“It’s a little backwards, I know. The date should come first.”
“Settimo…”
“You don’t have to answer me right away.” He steps away from me and puts his hands back in his pockets. I can’t tell what he’s thinking by his expression, but I wonder if he thinks I’m going to say no. As if I’m even capable of ever saying no to Settimo Gruco. Hasn’t he learned that?
I pick up the box and open it. My heart squeezes as I take in the giant, sparkling rock. It’s a ring fit for a queen. Or a don’s wife.
I take Paolo’s engagement ring off and set it on the counter.
I slide the new ring onto my finger and hold it up to look at it, rotating my hand to watch it sparkle.
“Do you like it?” he asks, his voice several octaves higher than usual.
I move my gaze to him and smile, and the look in his eyes makes all of this worth it. Every second. He deflates like he’s been holding in all the tension in the world and is finally free of it.
“I love it.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes.”
“So does that mean…? Or do you need time to—”
I push myself off the counter and bump into his chest, pressing a hand to his mouth.
“It’s my turn to ask the questions.”
I take my hand off his mouth and brush my hair back from my face. “If,hypothetically, we were to get married, when would that be?”
“Whenever you want,” he says immediately. “We can take our time… Or not. Hell, we can get married today, if you want. I mean, we’re here.”
“No.” I shake my head. “I would want to plan it.” I turn my head toward the gown hanging on the hook. “And I’d want to burn that dress.”
“Oh, thank fuck.”
I whip my head back to him, and he smiles. “I don’t know who your wedding planner was, but it’s stale as shit out there. Daisies? Really? What, are you on a shoestring budget?”
I laugh and Settimo smiles.
“Plus, my ma hasn’t met you yet. She’ll kill me if she doesn’t have the chance to at leasttryto scare you off.”
“That bad, hm?”
“Very nosy. She will know everything about you within an hour. Before, if I give her your name ahead of time.”
“Hypothetically.”
“Yes,” he agrees, although I’m just teasing him. “Hypothetically.”
I look down at my ring and sigh. “What kind of wedding would we have? Church?”
“Again, whatever you want. Just no daisies. I don’t like simple.”
“Me either,” I say, looking him up and down. “Obviously.”
“How about, hypothetically, we wait until things calm down? We could announce your pregnancy and our engagement then. It’s safer if we keep it quiet for now.”
“You’re not worried about people knowing you got a girl pregnant out of wedlock?”