Page 113 of Forbidden

JOY

I had expectations for Aldo’s sister’s wedding. Over the last several months, I’ve heard all about his huge family—his siblings in particular. I know Avena, the eldest, is already married with two kids, and in line to take over the empire one day. I also know she’s the one who organized the wedding. It’s Aldo’s second eldest sister, Abriana, getting married today. Yeah, they all have names beginning with ‘A’. He has a younger sister, Andrea and two younger brothers, Alessandro and Angelo. The Rossis are loud, loving, messy, and rich.

Even knowing all of this, I still find myself completely unprepared as we step out onto the rooftop.

With Aldo being part of the wedding party, Lane, Doug, and I arrive together, and my grip tightens on their arms as the elevator doors close behind us. The rooftop is enormous. One half is set up for the ceremony, with delicate white seats in rows, and an arch completely covered with red roses at the front. The other half is filled with tables, the centerpieces waterfalls of roses and petals. But the most overwhelming thing is the noise. There’s a band playing in a corner, but the laughter and talking all but covers it.

“Fuck me,” Doug mutters as a cluster of small children run at us, scattering at the last minute. “Is this hell? Were we in a car crash? Did we die on the way over here?”

I elbow him in the ribs, and he grins down at me. He looks dashingly handsome in his black suit. His white fitted shirt is open at the collar and his pants hug his thick thighs and pert ass perfectly. He even somehow managed to find time to get a haircut and have his beard trimmed, giving him a more polished look than the rough-and-ready grump I’m used to.

Lane looks effortlessly handsome on my other side, wearing a navy-blue suit the color of his eyes, the fitted jacket accentuating his broad swimmer’s shoulders.

I opted for a sheath dress in black, covered with large gray roses, that falls just above my knee. The cowl neck is subtle and classy across my cleavage, and the back is high, covering most of my ink. My hair is in loose waves, pinned on one side, which, when paired with my red lipstick, gives my look a sort of 1950s vibe that I’m loving.

No one under the age of eighty seems to have taken their seats yet, and I’m quite glad that our arrival appears to have gone unnoticed. Especially as the elevator opens behind us and another small group spill out onto the rooftop. It forces us further into the scattered crowd and we linger, unsure of where to go.

“You’re here!”

I turn at the sound of Aldo’s voice, and my heart skips a beat at the sight of him striding toward us. He looks beyond stunning in a dark red fitted suit, his hair styled back and a rose in the black lapel.

“Okay,” Doug mutters against my ear. “Maybe it’s heaven.”

I’m still grinning when Aldo stops in front of us, his eyes bright with happiness as he looks at the three of us. He only pauses for a beat before stepping forward and kissing me softly on the lips. Before I can wonder about the others, he kisses Lane, too. It’s only when he turns to Doug, he pauses. After all, Doug’s here as a ‘friend’. But Aldo just smiles and kisses him on the cheek.

“I’m so glad you came,” he says, stepping back. “You all look incredible.”

My skin heats at the compliment and Lane hugs me against his side, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. “McMann and I scrub up okay, but neither of us can compete with JoyJoy.”

Doug nudges me with his arm, and when I look up at him, he winks. “A rose between two thorns.”

I roll my eyes. “Where are we sitting? I take it we’re on the bride’s side if we’re your guests?”

Aldo nods and gestures for us to follow him toward the crowd. My heart thrums in my chest as people glance our way, looking us up and down before continuing their conversations. Immediately I think it’s because they know. They know that I’m here with three men. But that’s impossible. We’re not doing anything that would suggest we’re all together. As a woman gives Doug a very obvious up and down, I exhale. They’re just checking them out. That’s all it is. And I can’t blame them. My men lookfine.

My men.

My heart speeds all over again, and as Aldo stops and gestures to a half-empty row of seats, I’m grateful for the excuse to sit down.

“Are you okay?” Lane asks, lacing our fingers together.

His lips brush my shoulder as he speaks and I lean toward him, inhaling his scent and smiling as I catch a hint of cinnamon.

“Yeah,” I say. “It’s just . . . a lot.”

He nods. “Yeah. But did you see his face?”

I don’t need to ask who he’s talking about as his midnight blue eyes flit to where Aldo is walking away, laughing with others from the wedding party, looking the epitome of happiness. Just before he disappears through a door near the elevator, he turns, finding us looking at him, and his smile seems to brighten even further. I swear my heart could burst.

Without thinking, I reach for Doug’s hand, squeezing gently. “How are you doing? I can’t imagine this is your usual scene.”

Doug turns and grins at me. “What? Weddings? It’s not in a church, so I don’t need to worry about bursting into flames.”

I roll my eyes.

“I mean,” he continues, his eyes narrowed as he peruses the people taking their seats around us. “Weddings are a great place to find a hookup. Lots of single women feeling stressed and pressured to settle down.”

My mouth falls open, my insides twisting at his thoughtless admission, and my fingers feeling suddenly cold against his. Is Doug seriously going to be looking for someone else tonight? My eyes burn and I move to take my hand back, but he grips it tighter.

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