Page 16 of Summer Lovin'

ROMERO

I’m standing under a garden arch next to an old priest I recognize from my youth, with my baby brother, Santiago, on my left. Luckily, everyone in the family has at least one church suit, so dressing him up in a shirt and tie wasn’t difficult.

I, on the other hand, am wearing my Class-A uniform. Jules hasn’t seen me in military dress yet, and I’m wondering what she’ll think. Most women love a man in uniform, or so we’re led to believe, but all I care about is who Jules loves—which is me.

What a whirlwind this trip home has been. Two days ago, I was picking up chilies for my mother’spozole. Now I’m marrying the girl of my dreams—the only girl I’ve ever loved—in my best friend’s backyard.

While my mother and sister took Jules shopping, I went to the jewelry store and found my bride a better ring—albeit reminiscent of the crappy ring I wanted to give her all those years ago. This new ring is white gold with a heart-shaped diamond solitaire. It came with a jacket and a matching groom’s band, all of which I hope she loves.

My mother and sister walk out of the house and stand with Gloria, Aria, Frankie, and Jesus. Rosie, Jules’s cousin, stands with us near the priest, but her gaze is fixed on Frankie, who—true to his word—picked her up and brought her to his family’s home.

Paco opens the back door and escorts Jules out, who is breathtaking in a simple but beautiful white lace dress—her gold hair piled up on her head and adorned with flowers.

Her eyes instantly come to meet mine, and her sweet smile with the light blush hitting her cheeks makes me desperate to get her alone and underneath me again. Fuck, I can’t believe my luck.

I’m finally getting the girl.

Paco kisses her cheek and then gives me her hand, his smile wide as he pats my freshly shaved cheek. “Your father, my best friend, would be so proud of you right now,mijo.”

“Thank you, Paco.”

I lock eyes with Jules, bringing her hand up to my lips. “You look amazing.”

“You are so handsome in your uniform.” She smiles up at me.

“I’m glad you think so.”

“Are we ready to begin?” the priest interjects.

I nod and smile at the woman who, in ten minutes, will be my wife. “Yes, Father.”

Twelve minutes later, I’m kissing Mrs. Romero in front of our family.

Four hours later, we’re saying goodnight and driving to our hotel suite, this one with a kingsize bed and jacuzzi tub.

I lift Jules into my arms and carry her across the threshold.

“I love you, Johnny.” Jules nuzzles my neck, her breath softly caressing my skin.

“Johnny?” Kicking the door shut behind us, I carry her to the bedroom and sit down on the padded bench near the window with her on my lap.

She shrugs. “It feels weird to call you Romero when I’m now also a Romero.”

I nod, seeing her point. Even though I’ve gone by Romero since my father died—taking over the family name as the eldest son—I doubt I can convince anyone else, to include my military buddies, to stop using it. “Johnny and Jules. That sounds like a 50s Rockabilly movie title.”

While kicking off her shoes, she unbuttons my shirt—my tie and jacket discarded long ago. “Maybe someday I’ll get my Thunderbird back, and we can create a whole 50s brand. Johnny and Jules something, although what we would sell, I have no idea.”

“I’ll find and restore you a Thunderbird, if that’s what you want.” I slowly unfasten the buttons on the halter strap at the back of her neck, kissing each inch of exposed flesh as I peel back the fabric covering her breasts.

“You’d bring a classic Ford into your Chevy family?” She kisses the tip of my nose when I bring my head up.

My gaze swims in her aquamarine eyes, which are now vibrant versus last nights dullness. “For you? Yes.”

“Well, you know, I’ve always had a secret longing for a ‘58 Corvette.”

“I knew you were a Chevy girl.”

“I’ve denied who I am and what I want for too long. Never again, Johnny.” She lightly scratches her fingernails along my scalp, sending chills down my spine.

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