Chapter 42

Golden light spillsdown the hallway, making the freshly sanded and stained wood floors gleam. Harp strings pluck softly from somewhere in the house. I glance to my left, where a wall used to be. In its place is an archway framed in brick leading into the kitchen. I pause, my mouth hanging open as I quickly take in the remodeled kitchen. I knew the house was being worked on, but Lorenzo wanted it to be a surprise.

"Oh my God, do you see this?" I wander into the new kitchen. I'm in complete awe, it's gorgeous in here. "It's a Viking stove!"

"Come on, Summer, you're going to get me in trouble," Damien whispers.

"But it's all brand new! Did you see the marble counters? Stunning."

"Focus, Summer. You're about to get married."

"Right, sorry. I'm a little nervous and excited."

He steers me down the hall. Two large glass lanterns with candles and flowers flank the entrance to the open living room. We pause and everyone seated turns in our direction. All the furniture is gone, except for the gold wedding chairs for the guests. We only wanted immediate family and close friends, so it's a small affair. Everyone else will greet us afterward at the reception at Fiore's café.

Airy cream linen curtains float in the breeze of the open French doors. There are so many candles in cream and gold that the room looks incandescent. White gardenias, roses, and peonies flank the chairs. Cara steps forward with tears in her eyes and hands me my bouquet with matching flowers. She kisses my cheek, before she and Damien send me on my way down the aisle toward Lorenzo. He looks heart-achingly sexy in his midnight-black tuxedo that fits him like a glove.

"This is a surprise," I whisper as he takes my hand.

"I wanted to marry you in the place where we first met. Where you fell madly in love with me."

I throw my head back and laugh. "Perfetto."

We turn to the priest, hand in hand, as he begins the ceremony.

Thunder rumbles overhead and lightning flashes. A brown animal streaks through the open doors. I close my eyes, praying its Razzo. Signor Rossi quietly closes the French doors as the raindrops bead on the windows. I glance at Lorenzo, but his attention is on the priest, who starts the vows in Italian and then repeats them in English. "Lorenzo." The priest nods. Lorenzo turns toward me.

"Io, Lorenzo Raffaelo Rossi, prendo te, Summer Elizabeth Andrews, come mia sposa e prometto di esserti sempre fedele, nella gioia e nel dolore, nella salute e nella malattia, e di amarti e onorarti tutti i giorni della mia vita." He slips the diamond band on my left ring finger.

"I, Summer Elizabeth Andrews, take you, Lorenzo Raffaelo Rossi, as my husband and promise to be faithful to you always, in joy and in pain, in health and in sickness, and to love you, honor you, every day for the rest of my life."

I slip the platinum band on his finger. Something sizzles behind me. Lorenzo's gaze wanders over my shoulder, his brow furrowing. His attention returns to me, and he smiles as the priest says a blessing in Italian.

The steady beat of rain against the windows continues as we stare into each other's eyes, grinning like we just won the lottery.

"Con il potere conferitomi, dalla Chiesa e dalla Repubblica Italiana, vi dichiaro ora marito e moglie. Puoi baciare la sposa. You are now husband and wife."

Everyone cheers as Lorenzo dips me back and kisses me. He pauses and eases me up before he looks up at the ceiling. Candles not in lanterns flicker before they completely snuff out. I stare up at the ceiling as a drop of water splashes on my forehead.

"I take it you never got a new roof put on?"

"No, not yet. I had some interference…"

Several guests look up as drops hit them as well.

"Sposa bagnata, sposa fortunate!" Nonna shouts, grinning with delight. "A wet bride is good luck! Un segno!"

I turn to Lorenzo and laugh. "Nonna and her damn segnos."

He cradles my face in his hands. "You make me so happy, Signora Rossi. I love you." He softly kisses my lips while everyone whoops and hollers. Drops of water splash all around us. "Now let's get out of here before the whole roof caves in. Oh, and prepare yourself, tesoro. You're about to be bombarded with flying pasta."

It may not be the water pouring out of the faucet in Under the Tuscan Sun, but it's pretty damn close.

"On the countof three."

"Uno, due, tre!" people holler behind me. Blindfolded, I stumble through the crowd as people cheer and shout, gently pushing me in different directions. It's disorientating, and I can't help but giggle. It was my idea, after all. Instead of doing the traditional bouquet toss, which I've always despised, the first person—woman or man—that I stop in front of and hand my bouquet to will be the next to marry.

An internal voice tells me to stop, and everyone cheers. I pull off the blindfold and stand in front of a blushing Fiore. I laugh and smash my bouquet into her arms as we hug. She takes the flowers and kisses my cheek. "Grazie, Summer."

"I can't wait to meet the lucky lady," I whisper before Fiore is pulled away by Fredo.

Lorenzo gathers me into his arms as we dance under the star-laden sky. I try to straighten his bow tie, but it has chunks of material cut from it. Another Italian tradition I had never heard of where the groomsmen cut the groom's tie and sell pieces of it at the ceremony. "How much money did Emilio, Fredo, and Gio get for your bowtie?"

"A couple hundred, I'm sure."

"Oh good, we could use a new roof."

Lorenzo laughs and swings me around. "Sí, I'm sorry about that, tesoro. Fiore and Nonna insisted the kitchen should be done first since it's the heart of the home. Bad luck and all that stuff. You know how pushy those two can be. Obviously, the roof will be next." He smiles tenderly, caressing my cheek with his thumb. "Have I told you lately how much I love you?"

"Yes, but you can say it again."

He touches his nose to mine and closes his eyes, breathing me in like the first time he smelled my perfume. "I love you, Summer Rossi."

"I think I might love you just a little more, Lorenzo Rossi."

"Impossibile."

Twinkling lights and candles sparkle against the tables as guests drink and dine on Fiore and Fredo's fabulous cooking. The rain stopped soon after we left the house and thank goodness our wedding coordinator insisted on tents. Angelo sits sullenly at a table next to Nina. The honeymoon phase ended quickly after Nina found out she was pregnant three months ago and Angelo had to trade in his yellow Ferrari for a non-descript gray SUV. Despite Nina's sour disposition in the beginning, she's matured since my return, and I now enjoy her company at work.

Nonna sits with her best friend Elena and some other women, gossiping and drinking grappa. I've never seen her so animated and happy. I'm glad we brought her such joy today, and she didn't have to curse anyone or go pazza to get it.

I scan the crowd for Barbara and see her on the dance floor behind us. Cara has been monitoring her tonight. I've been anxious that the flowing alcohol this weekend might cause her to relapse, but she's been okay, checking in with her sponsor every day. She said this day was too important to miss because of alcohol, which made me cry. I shake my head and chuckle, catching her eye. She winks at me as she dances way too close to Gio. I groan, burying my face in Ren's neck.

"Are you okay, tesoro?"

"Barbara just squeezed Gio's butt out on the dance floor. He's half her age."

His chest rumbles with laughter. "Gio likes the attention."

"So does Barbara."

"Then they suit each other perfectly." He tilts my chin up and we sway as one. "You look so beautiful tonight, amore. I've been dreaming about this day since San Lorenzo. That was my wish, you know. I can tell you now that it came true. I wished on that night you would become my wife."

"Funny, because I wished you would be mine forever."

He gently kisses my lips, and I sigh. He smiles down at me and holds me tighter. "I've been thinking about Casa Rossi. It would be a shame to fix it all up and let other people stay in it."

"I saw a glimpse of the kitchen. It's beautiful."

"Sí. It will take a while with some major overhauling, but I thought we could move in when it's done. Make the master bedroom larger with a door that won't cave in. Perhaps I could convert a room into an art studio. Would you want that?"

"Does Razzo come with it?"

"I'd be too scared I'd lose my arm if I tried to remove him."

"Then yes, I want it." I smile tenderly, curling my fingers up into his hair and luxuriating in this moment that he is mine, and this is real. "Wait, can we put in a pool?"

Lorenzo snorts and looks into my eyes. "Sí, Summer, if that will make you happy, we can put in a pool."

"Ren?"

"Summer?"

"Are you laughing last?"

He arches an eyebrow in confusion.

"When we first met, you said, Ride bene chi ride ultimo. He who laughs last, laughs best."

He shakes his head, grinning. "No, tesoro, I think you got the last laugh. You own me—heart, body, and soul."

"You should know, I never like to lose a challenge."

He dips me and smiles against my lips. "I never doubted you for a second."

Nonna was wrong. My adventure doesn't end here. It's just begun.