Massimo hums in his throat as he pours Gunner, Nick, Holden, and me another glass of bourbon. Gunner looks around the twenties-themed speakeasy and sighs. “I took Sophie here once.”
“Not on subject.” Mass nudges him. “But I want to hear all about that later.”
Gunner winks and shoots Massimo a set of finger guns which makes me roll my eyes. Nick looks at the list we have. “Okay, So Sophie is handing everything we’ve decided on over to her mother and Valerie to follow through on. The big thing right now is the cake and the flowers.”
“You know, if any of the vendors give you trouble, you should sic Danny on them.” Massimo gets that loving look in his eyes. “Even since we had the baby, she’s a hellcat.”
“Too much information,” I murmur in Italian.
“She could make someone obedient with her stern voice and that coach-level glare. You know she can bring men twice her size to heel, right? She’s a goddess.” He continues anyway.
“How did you plan everything and get it done in time?” Nick asks him.
“We had a year. Shockingly, my Tesoro was a battle to get to the alter. The baby-making part was easier.” Massimo chuckles. “It’s good you guys are doing it in the right order. Grandma gave me hell for having a bastard, her words.” He takes a long drink.
I roll my eyes, but grandma is currently my biggest worry. Mom knows that I’ve always been unconventional and I think she’s just relieved I’m getting married instead of living the bachelor life forever. Every year she’s made sure that I don’t have a child of my own running around without a father.
“Roman.” Gunner nudges me. “Sophie is worked up today. Let’s get as much done as we can, okay?”
“The cake tasting tomorrow will help,” I assure him. “Sweets seem to help with stress.”
Holden smirks slightly and I see Nick do the same. As much stress as we’ve been under, we’ve found the best way to deal with it. Sex is an incentive, a way to relax, and most importantly, in those moments right after I finish, everything is clear.
It’s so easy to get lost in the details, in every little thing that we have to make sure doesn’t go wrong, to focus on the chairs or the plates instead of the reason this is happening. We love Sophie. Love cuddling her, touching her, kissing her, and completely losing ourselves in her is a reminder we desperately need considering the mad dash we’re making to the alter.
“Dress shopping?” Massimo guesses, replying to me when no one else does.
We all nod and he hisses. “The hardest part for the bride.”
“Not Sophie.” Nick seems sure of that as he finishes his drink. “With her Mom and Valerie there, I bet they’re close to done if not already out doing something completely different.”
“Did you guys decide if kids are allowed or not?”
“Of course they are.” Holden looks around the table like he can’t believe anything else would be an option.
“I’m just saying, some people have a no-kids wedding. I don’t get it, but it’s kind of important considering the baby.” Mass shrugs.
“Cigars are necessary. We never properly celebrated that.” Nick decides, getting up.
Holden goes with him so they can keep talking about how they’re dealing with the hotel and booking rooms in a block so our guests can be together and we can be sure to only cover people for the wedding.
I rub my forehead. There’s so much to do. The cake tasting should be the last big thing other than getting over there, but Sophie will lose it if we don’t have a photographer. I drink to calm my stomach. How is it possible to get through all this?
“I still can’t believe you got her father’s permission. Four men? For marriages?” Mass shakes his head. “Must be a rare breed. Especially since he’s your friend.”
“There’s a deal in place,” I murmur. “If we get into even one fight that threatens the marriage, his support is gone.”
“Ouch.”
“It can’t be that hard.” Gunner shrugs, refilling his glass. “We’re managing it right now. Sex, choices, more sex, firm decisions, work, food, and sex. It’s working.”
“Get back to me at the two-week mark. That’s when shit starts to hit the fan. Danny and I fought before, but nothing like that.” Massimo murmurs, but before he drinks he pauses as his brow furrows. “It could have been the pregnancy hormones too.”
“We’re taking care of as much as possible,” I say. “We’re spreading responsibilities and making sure that Sophie has everything she needs.”
“Stress is stress.” Massimo shrugs. “You know that, Roman.”
Despite getting plenty done, I know he’s right. When we get home, Nick reminds us Sophie might not be in the best mood. “Her mom was insistent they wouldn’t leave until she found a dress.”