“Aww, look at him in his little gown,” my sister coos as we step into the church. “He looks adorable.”
“He does,” I agree, smiling over at my little boy who, despite the centuries-old lace and questionable bonnet, looks like a tiny cherub. But I don’t miss the look Romeo and Dante exchange with each other.
“Is that lace?” Dante asks, wrinkling his nose as he points to the delicate trim along the hem. “And what the hell is he wearing on his head? He looks like one of those haunted antique dolls that stare at you while you sleep.”
“He does not,” I snap in my sweet little boy’s defence, even though his assumption holds some merit.
“It’s a bonnet,” Romeo growls, his jaw tight. “And yep, that’s lace. It also has tiny pearl buttons at the back.”
When Dante makes the sign of the cross like he’s just witnessed a holy abomination, I crack up.
“You two are ridiculous,” I say, shaking my head as I take my son from Romeo’s arms and hand him to Arabella. “It’s a Christening gown, not a cursed relic.”
Gabe lets out a grumble in protest when my sister fusses with his bonnet.
“I had my tailor make him a custom three-piece white suit, but apparently it wasn’t traditional enough,” Romeo grumbles, shoving his hands into the pockets of his trousers.
Dante snickers. “Poor bastard,” he says, grasping my husband’s shoulder in sympathy before turning to his wife. “Our son is not wearing a dress when he gets christened.”
My eyes flicker down to Arabella’s stomach, and when I spot the subtle swell beneath her dress, I gasp. “You’re expecting again?”
She shifts Gabe in one arm and slaps Dante’s abs with the other. “We agreed we wouldn’t tell them today.”
Dante lifts both hands in mock innocence. “I didn’t tell them shit.”
Arabella sighs, turning back to me with a grimace. “I was going to tell you tomorrow. I didn’t want to steal Gabe’s thunder by announcing it today.”
I press my lips together to hide my grin as her narrowed eyes cut back to her husband.
“Congratulations,” I shriek, leaning in to kiss her cheek before moving over to my brother-in-law.
“You’re going to be a big sister,” I say to Caterina as I take her out of her father’s arms and place my lips against her sweet cheek.
“Yeah, congrats,” Romeo says dryly, extending a hand to Dante. “I’ll be sure to tell myNonnahow much you love my son’s outfit, and that you want to borrow it for your kid when it’s born.”
Dante narrows his eyes as Arabella bursts out laughing. “Over my dead body,” he mutters.
“Careful,” I say, smirking. “She’ll hold you to it. That gown has survived three generations. It’s practically indestructible.”
“Fuc—udging hell,” Dante mumbles under his breath.
“Fudging,” Romeo retorts with a snort. “That comment has me wondering if you wore a dress when you were christened.”
“I seriously doubt my papa would’ve allowed that, but even if he did, I can guarantee I rocked it, and it didn’t contain lace, a stupid bonnet, or pearl buttons.”
We’ve now congregated in front of the altar while we wait for the last of our guests to arrive.
“Uncle Dante!” a little voice squeals, and when I turn, I see Luca and Giovanni sprinting down the aisle towards us.
Alexander—Dante’s brother—and his wife, Chloe, follow close behind, looking only mildly apologetic for the chaos.
They both kiss my cheek and congratulate me on the birth of my son before Alexander turns to Romeo and extends a hand. His eyes land on Gabe, who’s now nestled against his papa’s chest in all his lace-trimmed glory.
“I thought you had a little boy?” Alexander says as his eyebrows draw together.
“We did,” Romeo mumbles, shaking his hand.
When Alexander winces, I catch the silent question hanging between them. Romeo just shrugs with a clenched jaw.