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She pats my chest and smiles at Samantha as she walks by the table.
“You look stunning, Gabriella,” Samantha says, not even daring to look in my direction.
“Thank you,” my bride accepts the compliment like the queen she is.
Aunt Greta rushes toward us and says, “It’s time to open the dance floor.”
“Dance floor?” I mutter. “No one said anything about dancing.”
“Do it for me,” Gabriella whispers before standing up.
Unable to refuse her anything, I climb to my feet and follow her to the middle of the floor.
A song starts to play, and as I take Gabriella into my arms, I ask, “Which song did you pick?”
“Anyone by Tommee Profitt and Fluerie.” She wraps her arms around my neck, her fingers playing with my hair as she smiles up at me. “It says everything I feel.”
Not giving a fuck what everyone else thinks, I stand on one spot and sway from side to side as I listen to the words.
The lyrics make emotions trickle into my chest, and I tighten my arms around her.
Christ, I love Gabriella with everything I am.
My eyes lock with my wife’s, and seeing how happy she is, I pull her hands away from my neck. Wrapping an arm around her back, I tug her flush with my body while I hold her right hand in mine.
When I start to move her across the floor, her lips part.
“You made it sound like you couldn’t dance,” she chastises me.
“No. I said I don’t like it,” I correct her. “But for you, I’ll do it.”
When the song speeds up, I twirl Gabriella away from me before bringing her back to my arms.
Laughter explodes from her, and it makes the corners of my mouth lift.
I do it again just so I can hear her laugh, and when she looks up at me with the green flecks shining brightly in her light brown eyes, I know I’ll never love another as much as I love her.
I’m so fucking thankful I kept her for myself.
I notice Emilio leading Mamma to the floor, and when he dances with her, I give him a thankful nod.
Carlo grabs Aunt Greta, who hasn’t stopped running around for one second, and drags her protesting ass to the dance floor.
I glance at everyone having fun and needing to be alone with my wife, I take Gabriella’s hand and order, “Come.”
I drag her out of the room and head for the elevator.
“What about the guests?” she asks.
“Let them enjoy the night,” I mutter.
I pull her into the elevator and growl at the fucking fabric of her dress when we struggle to get it all into the small space.
“You’re so impatient,” she chuckles.
“You have no fucking idea.”
I lift my hands to her face and keep her in place as I claim her mouth.
