11
“You’re sure this is the dress you want me to wear?” she asked, plucking at the dark green fabric clinging to her hips. I nodded.
“Trust me. You look perfect,” I assured her. She had before, as well. That wrap dress had been stunning, and I loved the way it had caressed her curves as though it didn’t want me to forget about them. But she looked like a teacher. Hell, for all I knew, she actually had been a teacher at some point—she had talked about studying at the university, and she could have covered classes as part of that. My family, though, would want something a little more impressive. And it was easier to sculpt her into the vision of what my family would want from my wife than to argue with Amaya, so I picked out the dress from the boutique, and she gamely changed into it in the back room. I tried not to linger on the thought of her stripping down in there, forcing the image out of my brain, but as soon as she reemerged it was replaced.
She looked good. She had looked amazing before, but now she looked more like she did on the night of the gala when we’d first met, like some luxuriating socialite, the fabric outlining her curves in a way that would have made any man proud to have her on his arm. I tried not to stare at her as she twisted this way and that in the dress, checking herself out.
“It’s all right?” she asked, and I nodded.
“It’s perfect,” I replied, and I paid the man behind the counter quickly so we could start the journey down to my family’s place. Oh, and so I didn’t have to fight my urge to push my tongue into her mouth and run my hands all over her absurdly perfect body.
We took off in the car, and I glanced at her out of the corner of my eye. She looked the part now, more than she had before, like a socialite, someone my little sister might have headed out on the town with. I wasn’t sure why, but that thought unsettled me a little, and I pushed it to the back of my mind.
“So, what do I need to know?” She turned to me.
“I honestly don’t think there’s anything I can say to prepare you for this,” I admitted. “Just go with the flow and try not to get too stressed out if things don’t go entirely your way. They’re just going to be a little mad that they didn’t get to bless the union before we were married.”
“Bless the union?” she muttered to herself, shaking her head. “Kind of old-fashioned.”
“Oh, just you wait,” I replied, ominously. She shot me a look out of the corner of her eye.
“Care to elaborate?”
“Better to show than tell,” I replied, and the two of us made the rest of the drive there in relative silence. I still didn’t know what to say to this woman. I knew I should have been able to come up with something by now, but I was too nervous about the thought of her meeting my family. I was picking apart every little thing in my head I was sure they would go after, trying to come up with defenses, but I knew it was useless. We would just have to take it as it came.
We drew to a halt outside a house with enormous, ornate pillars outside that seemed to stretch up into the slightly cloudy gray sky for miles. I rolled my eyes as I did every time I laid eyes on them. They were ridiculous, but then Nonna had never been one for subtlety.
“Is this their place?” she gasped as she looked up at it. I nodded.
“Come on, they’re expecting us.” I hurried her out of the car. I wanted to rip this Band-Aid off already. She followed me, and I paused for a moment outside the door as I waited for her to catch up. I could do this. We could do this.
“This place is incredible.” She shook her head, mouth hanging open as she took it in. I would have called it over the top, but whatever floated her boat, I guessed.
“Do we have to do this now?” Amaya crossed her arms over her chest, and I had the doomed feeling she was about to run on me.
“If you do this now,” I leaned in close, “I’ll make it up to you later.”
And with that, I knocked on the door before I could stop myself, and a moment later, it sprang open.
“Kristo.” Leda, one of my cousins, answered the door. “You’re here!”
“Yup.” I hugged her quickly, and then glanced around at Amaya. She was hanging back a little, but Leda had already honed in on her.
“And who’s this?” she demanded, stepping forward and practically examining my new wife.
“This is Amaya,” I replied, and then closed my eyes like I was preparing for the impact. “My wife.”
“Your what?” Leda shrieked at the top of her lungs.
“What’s going on out there?” I heard Nonna Balaban’s voice float through from the kitchen, where she was no doubt holding court.
“Kristo’s married,” Leda yelled back, and I was sure I heard the entire house take a collective gasp of shock.
“Bring him in here,” my grandmother ordered, and I took Amaya’s hand and led her through to the kitchen. Lunch was nearly on the table, but the entire house virtually came to a halt at the news.
“Uh, hello.” Amaya waved, managing a smile. Nonna eyed her with an inscrutable expression.
“And this is your wife?” She turned to me, eyebrows lost in her carefully done gray hair.