Page 20 of Forbidden Vows

“Someone talking about me? My ears are burning.” A waft of her familiar perfume reaches me. She wears a cream-colored suit tailored to her figure, and her highlighted hair is styled to perfection. She looks good.

“Hey, Ma.” I lean over and kiss her cheek.

She’s positively glowing. I eye Cleo. Surely, she sees how happy she is.

Ma offers me another smile. “Your brother couldn’t make it?”

It’s okay. I’m getting pretty good at not being offended for not being Haze. “Only one of us could leave work.”

“I thought you ‘made’ men make your own rules,” she sniffs.

“Not always.” I attempt to cover a very real concern about what’s going down in the Bachman world with a joke: “And we all know I’m your favorite, so I got to come.”

Falcon joins Ma. Cleo’s dad is a big man with a thick neck and salt-and-pepper hair that curls just above his ears. The deep lines etched into his suntanned face light up with a warm smile as he strides down the aisle in his beloved worn leather Ariat boots. He welcomes his daughter with a big bear hug; the soft creases of his well-loved brown leather blazer crinkle as he envelops her in a warm embrace.

“Sweetheart! You’re as pretty as a peach. Man, I’ve missed you.” He gently kisses her cheek.

“Dad!” She rises on the balls of her feet, smiling for him as she reciprocates the kiss. “I know. With the move, I haven’t been able to see you much. How’s Arizona?”

“Hot as balls!” Falcon gives a giant belly laugh.

Ma smiles, linking her arm with his. “Just another reason he’ll be moving back to New York with me after this wedding.”

He runs a big hand over his graying beard, his grin twinkling in his eyes. “Surprise! I’ll be moving back in with Sharon.”

“Two big surprises in one day.” Cleo tries to smile, but it’s clear she does not like surprises.

“Shall we?” Falcon puts a hand on my shoulder. “The four of us will be at the altar. Bride, groom, and my lovely daughter Cleopatra and my son Blaze as our two witnesses.”

“Let’s go.” I glance at the priest, hoping he’s not going to ask the whole ‘if anyone should know a reason these two should not be wed’ question.

There’s a small crowd of guests in the pews. The four of us head to the altar for the brief ceremony. Cleo quickly moves beside her father, as far from me as possible. Fine. I was gonna stand by Ma anyway.

Afterward, Falcon and Ma kiss, but this time, there seems to be a deeper connection behind their embrace. Years ago, it was a lustful smooch too X-rated for church. Today, they gaze into one another’s eyes for a long time before they come together for a serene kiss.

I’m touched. Cleo’s face creases with worry. The priest looks at his watch.

Our five minutes are up.

Cleo says nothing, her eyes raising to Christ on the cross, probably praying for all of our already lost souls. Ma and Falcon go to a small table in the corner to fill out paperwork. It shouldn’t take too long since they’ve done this once. They should know where to sign.

Abandoned at the altar, Cleo and I stand awkwardly in silence. The few people Ma invited sit in the pew behindus, chatting quietly. Cleo’s phone goes off, interrupting the quiet.

“Whoops, forgot to silence it. Didn’t know I’d be at a wedding.” She slips the phone from the pocket of her dress—one glance at the screen and her brow knits, pain displayed on her face.

It’s got to be Keith.

“Don’t answer it,” I command.

She looks up at me, pensive. She silences the call. The phone goes back in her pocket.

He’s the only serious boyfriend she’s had. I could see a situation where she gets back with that asshole because it’s comfortable. My stomach twists in knots just thinking about her being back with that gremlin. He doesn’t deserve to live after what he did to her, much less get even one second of her attention.

The thought of being a world away in Italy, with no control over him and no way to convince her otherwise, makes me physically ill. I blurt the words out before I think them. “You’re coming to stay with me for the summer.”

“No. I’ll stay with Seraphina. I’ll be fine.” But she’s pulled her phone back out of her pocket. She’s glancing down at the screen, her fingertip itching to dial.

I take her phone from her, slipping it into the inside pocket of my suit jacket.

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