Page 60 of Soulmate of the Mafia King
I’d never been happier in my whole life. All the women from my bachelorette party fluttered around the room, fixing small stains or finding bobby pins or, in Joyce’s case, reattaching the heel to a shoe. Helping each other. Emma had made a girl-pop playlist that she’d presented to me shyly last night, and I’d thrown my arms around her and demanded we play it all morning, so bubbly synthetic guitar poured through the space.
“Done.” The makeup artist stepped back.
I blinked, rubbed my neck, and started to look at myself in the mirror.
“Not yet!” My mother pushed herself between me and the mirror before I could see everything. “Oh, Sera, you’re so beautiful.” She hugged me carefully, trying not to smudge anything.
“If I’m so beautiful, why the hell can’t I see?” I complained with a grin. She’d been around since I woke up, gushing over meand blotting away tears when she thought no one was looking. “The bride can see the bride, I’m pretty sure.”
She released me. “Trust me. You want to see the full picture.”
“Oh! That’s my cue!” Paige hopped up from where she was pinning the last of Lauren’s curls into place and lifted down a bulging garment bag.
Butterflies piled up in my stomach. My dress. For my wedding to the man of my dreams.
“You guys are going to have to help me,” I said wetly, “or I’m going to cry before it’s even on.”
Laughter bounced around the room, and every single person got up to help me. Different hands adjusted skirts, tied bows, tightened the corset. A swarm of love and happiness surrounded me in a blur that threatened to make me cry almost as much as seeing the dress had. But finally, they all stepped back.
“Oh, honey,” my mom said. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a prettier bride.”
Joyce pushed aside the changing screen blocking me from the mirror without a word, and I gasped.
The dress was everything I’d dreamed and more. Layer after layer of tulle frilled the full ballgown skirt that I would remove for the reception later. The top was my masterpiece, though. I’d tried on a dozen, a hundred gowns with floral lace, and none of them were quite right. Eventually, Killian waved his hand and told me to stop worrying about price, so I’d reached out to a custom lace-maker, and together, we’d designed a lace that flowed with the distinctive shapes of all my favorite flowers, all the ones I’d tended here in the gardens. That lace cupped the fitted top—with the plunging neckline I picked out specifically for Killian—and floated up onto my chest like it grew there. Tears pricked my eyes, and I struggled to hold them back.
Penny offered me a handkerchief. “I had the tailor put a pocket in my dress just for that. I’m going to cry like a baby.”
I beamed at her and blotted my eyes. “You’re a lifesaver. Does anyone have the veil?”
My mom carried it in and placed it over the complicated updo I’d spent the whole morning getting. “There’s a piece of lace from my dress in there.”
“And mine,” Joyce said.
“And mine.” Penny smiled sheepishly. “I know it’s a little different, but I figured I had the dress.”
“Everybody, hug me right now!” I demanded.
They laughed and crowded in on all sides. Then, the officiant knocked on the door and told us it was time. The bridesmaids separated from the guests, and everyone wished me luck as they hurried out. My mom and I went last, arm-in-arm. I’d decided a long time ago that I wanted her to give me away.
We waited at the open glass doors to the garden for our cue. One by one, my bridesmaids and Killian’s groomsmen walked out ahead of us. The smell of flowers drifted in on the breeze. When we were the last ones left, I shut my eyes. I didn’t want to see anything until I was out there.
“I’m so glad you’re marrying for love,” my mom whispered.
“I’m so glad you’re back,” I replied.
The band trilled our cue, and we marched out.
The garden was a vision. All the flowers were in bloom, and more matching ones adorned simple wood benches that blended into the garden. And Killian. My breath caught. He looked like the terrifyingly handsome mobster I’d been kidnapped by and the man underneath that I’d fallen in love with. The walk up the aisle disappeared, and suddenly, I was next to him. My mom put my hand in his. I couldn’t look away from his face.
“You’ve never looked more beautiful,mia cara,” he murmured.
“I love you,” I replied with a smile.
The officiant raised his hand for quiet, and the ceremony began. We’d chosen a simple one, with most of the emphasis on the vows. When the time came, the officiant looked at me to go first.
“Killian.” I smiled. “I’ve spent a lot of my life being scared. Terrified, really. And you met me at the scariest time of my life.” I laughed. “You were a terrifying part of the scariest time of my life. And then you weren’t. This life teaches you a lot of things about marriage and relationships”—I glanced at my mom—“and I’m happy to say you’re none of those. I love you, Killian Ricci. No matter how long it takes for you to say it back.”
Laughter rippled through the crowd. The officiant looked at Killian, and he pulled out a few index cards. I swallowed a laugh. The Hand of Death, nervous?
