Page 1 of Enzo's Vow
Chapter 1
Gemma
Harper gazed at the location in open-mouthed wonder. “This place is gorgeous.”
Gorgeous indeed. The sunset painted the cloud-streaked sky with strokes of vibrant yellow and deep orange. An aroma of garlic and herbs drifted from the kitchen and straight to my rumbling stomach. Beyond us, the fountain di Orione poured forth clear water, offering the perfect view of Piazza Duomo.
Willow bellowed over the classical Italian music. “Did you girls see that sign on the building down the street?Ladies’ night.” She shot me a wink. “How about a little fun for our bride-to-be?”
Harper elbowed Willow’s rib, her fresh copper hairdo gleaming under the soft fairy lights outlining our white gazebo. “Seriously? Gem’s dad is at the bar.”
“You know that’s not my scene, Lolo.” I snapped, keeping my tone playful. “And what would Matthew say?”
Willow raised her hands in defense. “The offer’s always there… and what Matthew doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”
Ladies night?Thanks, but no thanks. Besides, I wasn’t about to send my father away… I hadn’t seen the man in over a year. Speaking of Papa, I peered past other diners, leaning back in my seat for a better view of the bar. He waited there as the bartender filled our tray with snap-worthy cocktails. More silver threaded through his hair, and those lines around his mouth… had they always been so deep? Hollowness suffused my chest. Had hechanged this much in just a year? If only Nonno and Nonna were stronger… maybe, Papa wouldn’t have had to return to Italy to care for them.
A wave of laughter erupted from a table near the bar, drowning out the soft Italian music. One man neither laughed nor joked with his buddies. Instead, his gaze met mine across the room. Sudden heat rose in my chest at those vivid green eyes. Not admiration, but assessment—calculating, as if sizing up a chess piece for his next move.Did I have food on my face?Wiping my chin, I found no remnants of thebruschettawe devoured. His gaze held a strange intensity, a lure tugging at my curiosity, overshadowing the urge to look away. Shifting in my chair, I gave into the latter. Why should I be the one to squirm? He’d stared first.
“I guess I shouldn’t complain since you originally wanted to have your bachelorette party at the church’s Friday night youth meeting.” Willow rolled her eyes, a visible shudder running through her.
“What?” A laugh bubbled to the surface. Oh, how the idea must have sounded weird to her. “I wanted to involve them. Matthew thought it was a lovely suggestion.” He adored it when I included his youth group. They’d even helped us make our wedding invitations. Matthew was great with those kids. His easy smile, his ability to connect—the way he made even the most anxious teenager laugh and feel instantly at ease—that’s what drew people to him, and made my decision to marry him sooner all the more certain.
“Okay, fine…” She pouted. “No ladies night.”
Poor Willow, I’d crushed her bridesmaid dreams.
She then rotated her finger, her dramatized way of calling all eyes on her. “But just humor us with this one thing.” A mischievous grin appeared as she extracted a bag from under the table and presented a gift.
Inside sat a “Bride-to-be” veil, where tiny lightbulbs, mimicking gems, decorated the tiara. “Oh, Willow. Are you serious?”
She pointed a strict finger my way. “Youhaveto wear it. C’mon, Gem.”
“Don’t push her, Lolo,” Harper warned, her tone half-hearted. “You should have seen her at the range last week—bullseye after bullseye. Annoy her too much, and you might find your picture on her target.”
Oh, please, target shooting was just a bit of fun, a great way to focus and release tension. I’d never aim a weapon at an actual person, even if I wasn’t so keen to wear this tawdry hairpiece. Not one to dampen her eager mood, I fixed the comb to my hair and prayed I didn’t mimic a clown.
Willow all but squealed at the accessory. Unlike the wild hen party my dear friend envisioned, our cozy night in beautiful Messina topped my ideal celebration.
“There’s a little treat at the bottom for your honeymoon.” Willow winked and shimmied her shoulders.
Stomach twisted in knots, I dug into the bag and withdrew a black French-lace teddy, scandalous enough to muster a whistle from Harper. “Willow!” I crammed the bodysuit deep inside the bag and hid the gift under the table, wishing I could hide the warmth in my cheeks. “Lingerie! With my father here!”
“Relax.” She grinned, drawing out the word. “He’s at the bar.”
Thank God my father paid no heed to the flimsy piece.
One person noticed—the same man in the corner. His mouth twitched, and a twinkle lit his eyes.
I had to look, didn’t I?My gaze snapped his way without a thought. Forget warmth. Flames ignited my cheeks. I averted my gaze again.
Not even my honeymoon luggage included such items. What if Matthew found the teddy too bold? I peered at the bag at myfeet. Shouldn’t wearing sexy lingerie for my husband excite me rather than stress me out? Once we exchanged rings, I’d give myself to this man in ways I’d never given to anyone.
“Three Averna Limonatas.” My father planted the tray on our table.
I bounced out of the chair and ran to his side. “Don’t let these girls talk you into buying rounds all night. Remember, they’re Aussies. They can handle their liquor.”
He chuckled and nudged my arm. “Stop worrying, Gemma. Have some fun.”
