Page 128 of Forging Caine

She looked at me, and the love in her eyes poured out. That and a touch of terror. “I really can’t believe we’re doing this.”

“It might not be how you imagined it, but—”

“But what about you? Aren’t you supposed to have a giant Roman Catholic service with all the trimmings? Shouldn’t I be in a train that’s twenty feet long?”

I pressed the button to put the top up and shook my head. “You’ve watched too many movies.”

“This might be true.” And she might be postponing the inevitable.

I got out and rounded to her side, where she allowed me to open her door without complaint.

“This is your last chance to get your head on straight and flee back to Michigan.”

“If I haven’t fled from you yet, do you really think I’m going to?” I half-walked, half-hauled her toward the chapel.

At the front door, she paused and drew in a deep breath. “This is perfect. Just the two of us.”

Perhaps. At least, it was perfect because there was none of the pressure and stress of planning and preparing the ridiculously elaborate event my family would have insisted on. I placed my hand on the doorknob. “Well, Ms. Caine? Are you ready?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

I’d been relatively calm all day, but the moment I turned that knob, my world changed forever. I was about to marry her. For real. “You say the most romantic things.”

We entered and spoke with the woman at the reception desk to handle the paperwork. My travel agent—my mother’s sister, in truth—had planned almost everything to the ultimate detail, so all Samantha and I had to do was get our marriage license and show up.

The older woman at the desk, with her dark hair and kind smile, said, “You’ve chosen our Star Chapel, where the evening sky will watch over your vows. It’s directly through those doors. Everyone is already—”

“Grazie,” I said before she could finish.

Samantha walked to the double-doors with me, eyes narrow. “What was that?”

I placed a hand on her back, ushering her forward. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She pulled open the door and froze in her tracks, mouth gaping wide.

Warmth and joy invaded my very soul.

Perfetto. This was exactly the surprise I wanted.

Her family, my family, our dearest friends, all smiled back at us.

Samantha covered her face as she laughed. “How did you do this?”

“I told you my travel agent’s the best in the world.”

The smile gracing her face was wider than any I’d ever seen on her before.

There were squeals of “Auntie Sammy!” from Emma, overly cool head nods from Sofia’s boys, more squeals from Lucy—who was standing in front of Lorenzo, with his hands on her waist, what was going on?—and Cassandra came to hug her.

“You didn’t think—” Cassandra suppressed a yawn. It was near midnight at home in Brenton, and given the night in the safe house, it was no surprise many of them were exhausted. “You didn’t think we’d let you get married without us, did you?”

Samantha looked all around, unable to focus on one person over another.

“Alright everyone,” I said, clapping my hands. “Save the stories for the reception. I need to marry this woman before she changes her mind.”

“If only she had something appropriate to wear.” Mario made his way to the front of the group, carrying a long white bag.

“Mario?” Samantha looked from him back to me. “How did he get here?”

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