My tears fall with those words, and I press a chaste kiss to my husband’s lips and then settle in against his chest. Whatever else transpired tonight, whatever Arturo said, doesn’t matter. I have everything I’ve ever wanted right here, and I’d be a fool to long for anything more.
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
Lo
Gabe fumbled his way into our bedroom at some ungodly hour. I knew he was trying to be quiet, but drunk people are never quiet. That was an hour ago, and since then I’ve tossed and turned and grown so overtired that I can’t sleep. I climb out of bed and slide my feet into my slippers, then I throw on the white silk robe Clem gifted me with for my wedding night. Not that this evening had gone to plan at all.
Te protegeré de la tormenta. Nunca te haré daño, mi corazón.
What the hell was he thinking? What right did he have to unburden himself and tell me this at my fucking wedding?
I open the door and stalk out into the living room, heading for the kitchen to soothe my worried mind with a cup of chamomile tea, but I almost trip over the bodies in the middle of my floor and then I want to curse Gabe, the boys, and Art all over again.Fuck! Why are all of the men in my life trying to ruin my wedding night?
I stalk through the doors and into the backyard, which is littered with paper cups, ruined flowers and twinkle lights that are still burning.Fuck Arturo.
I open the gate and pull my robe tightly around me. I’m too furious to go back inside and change, and I need answers now. Why would he tell me that the day I married the love of my life?
It’s after three a.m., and the streets of Venice are empty at this time of night, save for the occasional bum or the couple who’re drunk and stumbling home.
I bang on the restaurant windows with the flat of my palm and scream Arturo’s name, but he doesn’t answer. After a minute of growing more and more frustrated, I stalk through theside alley and around the back to the garden gate that he usually keeps locked. It’s a long shot, but since the apartment is upstairs at the back of the restaurant, I figure I have a better chance of him hearing me.
I bang with my fists this time on the wooden door, but it rattles loud enough to wake the entire neighborhood, so I stick my hand through the slot and unlatch the gate. “Arturo!”
A light flicks on inside the apartment, and then the twinkle lights spark to life in the beer garden and Art pulls back the door with a worried look on his face.
“Mi amor? Is everything okay?” He hurries down the stairs and places his hands on my shoulders, smoothing the silk robe with his thumbs. Arturo stands before me in a pair of silk gray pajama pants, no shirt, and his hair mussed from sleep. His gaze dips, and catalogs me in my silk robe and slippers the same way I did him.
“No,” I cry. “Nothing is okay.”
“What’s the matter?”
“You’re the fucking matter! You’re the reason I couldn’t stop crying at my own goddamn wedding.”
His mouth opens and closes again, and then a long beat of silence ensues. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have.”
“No, you shouldn’t. Jesus, Art. I’ve worked for you for years. I was single for years, and you never once let on.”
“Bullshit.”
“What?”
“That is bullshit, Lo, and you know it.”
I shake my head, but he levels me with those dark eyes and the words are stolen from my mouth.
“You must have known, pequeña azul. I don’t look at you the way I look at my other staff.”
“So? You’re a flirt. Plenty of men are.”
“Why are you here, Lo?”
“Because I’m fucking furious at you!” I take a deep breath and lower my voice. “You ruined my wedding to the love of my life.”
A smirk twists his beautiful face and I want to hurt him and kiss him all at once. “If he is truly the love of your life then why are you on my doorstep?”
“I told you already—”
“To yell at me? Hmm? To tell me how much you hate me? You despise me for ruining the happiest day of your life? Stop lying to yourself and tell us both why this couldn’t wait until the honeymoon is over.” His tone is liquid heat and ice cold, but worse still, he’s right.