Page 64 of Bossy Bride: Emma and Jesse

They laughed and talked to me in Italian like I could understand them. And I nodded and smiled and just generally kicked back in a huge leather chair.

Then we all went into the steam room. I’ve never been a guy who likes a steam, but I have to admit it was a very nice touch. My sore muscles certainly thanked me afterward. We just sat in there for a good twenty minutes and I listened to them all talk. They’re very animated, these Italian dudes. And they all kinda look alike, so I think they’re really family.

The first three weddings were pretty cheesy, but this one… An A-plus effort, Fingers, my man. A-fucking-plus.

After the steam I took a long, cool shower and when I got out, there was a barber there to give me a proper shave. I’m talking this dude oiled me up, wrapped a lemon-scented hot towel all the way round my head to relax me, and then worked that shaving cream into my jaw until I had a fluffy cloud on my face. He skimmed that straight-cut razor down my jaw like an expert, gave me a face-wash mask, hot-toweled me again, cleaned off the mask, and then massaged some post-shave balm and moisturizer into my baby’s-butt-smooth skin so thoroughly, I felt like a new man.

He even trimmed and styled my hair.

Then they showed me the tux.

I have to admit, I was a little worried it was going to be shiny and cheap, but Fingers pulled through for me with a charcoal-gray jacket with tails and matching slacks, light gray waistcoat, white shirt with light gray pinstripes, and a yellow tie. Not what I would’ve chosen for my wedding day. It’s a little bit contrast-y for my tastes and it came with a top hat. But that’s kind of the cool thing about letting other people make choices for you. You get what you get and even if it’s not really ‘you’, you can embrace it because it wasn’t your choice.

I decide I love the suit and when I see all my groomsmen lined up before we walk, I think we look damn good.

None of them speak English. Or so they say. But they come with names like Marco, and Giovanni, and Leonardo, and I actually start picturing myself with these dudes as my buddies. I could use a few buddies. I wonder if the Shotgun Wedding is their day job or if they have other careers? I start picturing Marco as a finance guy in the city. He’s a fast talker with a loud voice and lots of hand gestures. Leonardo is slim and blond and comes off as an artist, moody and quiet. I picture him agonizing over color choice in his paintings. And in my head, Giovanni is some kind of professor. Probably history. Probably weird history. Like… gladiators. Or Vikings. Or the Persian Wars.

Yeah. I like my new friends. I could see myself hanging out with these guys.

There’s even a little dude called Edwardo who is gonna carry our rings.

Haven’t seen the rings yet, but from the looks of this wedding so far, I’m fairly confident that they’ll be expensive and maybe even tasteful. Hell, we might even keep them. I’m sure Fingers will mark them up two hundred percent, but you can’t put a price on memories, right?

Well, you can. I know this because Joey, Huck, Wald, and Brooke bought a whole lifetime of memories when they were trying to get custody of Maisy. But that’s not the point. I think we’ll probably keep the rings. I think this wedding is gonna be something we’ll want to remember for the rest of our lives.

There’s some fussing at the chapel entrance as the bridesmaids begin their walk and then… there. There she is. My bride.

I start grinning like a madman. I can’t help it. I’m bobbing my head from side to side, trying to see past all the bridesmaids—and then… well, shit. Then I actually catch myself looking for Jack. Because he should be the one walking her down the aisle.

Now… now I feel bad about this wedding.

Jack should be here. Silvia should be sitting right up front where that middle-aged Italian mother-in-law stand-in is. And even though I kinda dig Marco, Giovanni, Leonardo, and Edwardo—it should be Joey and Johnny standing up here with me. Huck and Wald too. And fuckin’ Lonz. And Tony and Luke and…

Fuck. Fuck! My best man should be Zach!

But just as that regret begins to simmer in my head, the bridesmaids all make it to the altar and the wedding march begins. A little flower girl appears, tossing peach and yellow flower petals—and dammit, that flower girl should be Maisy.

But then…

“Holy shit,” I mutter. Because I see Emma. Emma. My bride. Not dressed up in jeans and t-shirt like she was for the rollercoaster wedding, not dressed up like a pirate princess like she was at Treasure Island, not dressed up in a jumpsuit at the skydiving wedding—but dressed up like a proper I’m-gonna-lose-my-shit she’s-the-most-beautiful-bride-ever kind of bride.

Her dress is… a little Cinderella. And I know she probably wouldn’t have chosen that style if we were in charge of this day, but it’s beautiful. And she looks gorgeous. All of the day’s catastrophes have been washed off and her face is bright with happiness.

Marco elbows me, muttering something in Italian I can only assume is probably along the lines of, Your woman is sexy hot and I bet the lingerie she’s wearing underneath is gonna blow your mind , but I can’t even shoot him a disapproving glare, because he’s right.

My bride is sexy hot.

And no, the man whose arm she’s holding onto as she walks isn’t her father. And none of these people here are our people—but in this moment I do not care.

Emma.

Emma is the only thing on my mind.

I want this woman by my side right now. I want her next to me for the rest of my life. I want her in sickness and in health. I’ll take all the bad with the good. I want to love and cherish her so hard, she will forget the thirteen years we spent apart and only think of the ones we spent together.

Her veil only covers her eyes. It’s a very tasteful, very understated veil. But the best thing about that veil is that as I watch her walk towards me—as I see her suddenly realize that this is it, we really are gonna make it all the way through this ceremony—I catch her checking me out. I catch her eyes wandering down my body, then back up to meet my gaze again.

She smiles and bites her lip.