We beam at everyone as the applause grows before we head back down the aisle, followed by the rest of our wedding party. Spencer clutches my hand in his, our fingers interlocked, and I’m laughing. This is just the best day.
And the party is only just beginning.
“Let’s get you positioned for photos!” the wedding planner demands, but Spencer ignores her.
“Give me a few minutes of privacy with my bride,” he says, escorting me back into the lower level of the house.
He pulls me into a small room, shutting the door behind us, and I want to laugh at how much room my dress takes up. There is red silk everywhere, bunched all around me, covered in red tulle, and when Spencer wraps his arms around my waist and tugs me closer, I go to him willingly.
“You’re stunning,” he murmurs before he kisses me.
I break the kiss seconds later, already breathless. “So are you.”
“I love you.” He kisses me again, even deeper this time, and when he groans, I definitely break away first.
“We have photos to take,” I remind him.
He exhales, nuzzling my cheek with his. “Do we have to?”
“Yes.” I press my hand against his shoulder, stopping him. “You can maul me later.”
“I plan on it.” He cups my cheek, tilting my face toward his. “I just wanted a moment alone with you.”
“I like our stolen moments alone. I always have.” I smile just before he kisses me again, savoring the sensation of his lush mouth on mine.
“I like them too,” he admits when he pulls away. “We’ll have plenty more, Mrs. Donato. Uninterrupted ones for once.”
“I hope so. As long as Squirrel isn’t around.”
He laughs. Roland and the cat arrived days after my mother’s funeral, and it became my mission to tame the cat and make her mine. With a lot of patience—and tolerating a lot of scratches and yowling in protest—Squirrel has become my cat.
She follows me everywhere, scratching at my ankles and feet. Sitting in my lap. Sleeping between us on the bed at night. She’s the sweetest thing.
“Feisty but lovable,” Spencer said to me one night when she was curled up behind his legs and purring loudly. “Much like you.”
Maybe that’s why Squirrel and I are such kindred spirits.
There’s a heavy knock on the door, followed by a familiar voice.
“The wedding planner is going to stroke out if you two don’t come out here right now,” Whit calls.
A sigh leaves me and I stand up straighter, glancing over at Spencer. “Are you ready?”
He smiles. “As I’ll ever be. Let’s go, Mrs. Donato.”
Well, I could definitely get used to that.
I love the sound of my new name.
THIRTY-NINE
SPENCER
We decidedto honeymoon in Italy, on the coast.
We’re staying at a hotel in Capri, the interior white and clean, a view from every room. Sylvie booked the biggest suite they had, of course, with the best views of the ocean. The weather is still warm, and she’s currently out on the balcony of our suite, tanned from the sun and clad in a white bikini.
Topless.