Chosen By A Sinner (Sinners 4)
“I hate leaving you, but I need to check in with my men,” he says against my lips, then holds me tightly.
I don’t like that he’s feeling bad because he has to go to work, and try to reassure him, “My mom’s here. I’ll be fine.”
“Still.” He presses more kisses to my neck, then takes a deep breath of me. “I love your perfume.”
“You better. It’s expensive,” I chuckle.
I drag my fingers through the dark stubble on his jaw, savoring one last sweet kiss.
“Text me a heart emoji every thirty minutes, so I know you’re okay,” he orders.
“Yes, Sir,” I tease him.
His eyes darken on me. “Don’t make me hard. Your mother is here.”
“Oops.”
I watch as Luca walks to the elevator and keep eye contact with him until the doors shut between us.
“Is the AC working because it just got hot in here?” Mom teases me from the kitchen where she’s making coffee.
She carries the cups to the living room and hands me one before taking a seat on the other couch. “Spill the beans.”
The happiness Luca has made me feel since he declared his love to me is clear in my voice. “There won’t be an annulment.”
A smile curves Mom’s lips.
“Luca wants me to plan a wedding so we can renew our vows.”
Mom’s eyebrows dart up. “That’s a lovely idea.”
“So we have a lot of planning to do.”
She drinks some of her coffee, then asks, “When will the wedding be?”
“As soon as I can walk down the aisle,” I mutter. “Definitely after the cast comes off.”
“That gives us three months, give or take a week.” Mom pulls her phone out of her bag. “That’s not a whole lot of time. We better start planning.”
She stands up and comes to sit behind me, letting me lie back against her chest so we can both look at her phone.
“I want a black wedding dress.”
We search through hundreds of dresses until I shriek, “That one!”
Mom enlarges the photo, then reads the description, “The epitome of softness and drama with a plunging neckline, the lace detail accentuates the body.” I feel her take a breath. “That’s one hell of a plunging neckline.”
“It’s just a little cleavage.” I point to the skirt of the dress. “I love the gold shimmering through the black lace.”
“Is this the one you want?”
“Yes.” I tilt my head back to give her my cute face she can never say no to.
Mom chuckles at me. “What my baby wants, my baby gets.”
“Thank you, Mami.”
“What colors do you want for the décor?”
“Black and rose gold.”
She searches for weddings with the same color scheme, and we repeat the process of searching through endless images for ideas.
The new phone Luca got for me, seeing as I lost my old one in the accident, starts to ring where it’s squashed between the couch and me. I pull it out then whisper, “Oops.” I quickly answer, “Sorry, babe. I got swept up in planning our wedding.”
“My heart,” he breathes.
“You worry too much. I’m safely at home with my mom, and there’s half an army situated in and around the building.”
“There’s no such thing as too much when it comes to you.”
My heart melts.
The elevators open and Dad walks in. “My dad’s here. Now you can really relax. No one will get past him.”
“Thank God,” Luca mutters. “How do you feel? What level is the pain?”
“I feel fine, and it’s at four. Totally manageable.”
“Call me if you need me.”
“I will.”
“Love you, amore mio.”
“Love you too.”
I end the call then smile at Dad as he leans down to kiss my forehead before pressing one to Mom’s lips.
“What are my women up to?” he asks as he takes a seat.
“We’re planning a wedding,” Mom informs him.
Dad’s eyebrow pops up. “Is that so?”
“Yes.” I give him my sweetest smile. “We’re renewing our vows.”
“Hmm…” Dad pretends to give me a stern look, then asks, “Are you sure you want to spend the rest of your life with Luca?”
There’s zero hesitation in my voice. “With all my heart.”
Dad nods, then says, “As long as you’re happy, printsessa, you can have anything you want.”
“Show Dad the dress, Mami.”
Mom retrieves the image she saved, then hands the phone to Dad.
He stares at it for a while before muttering, “That’s a fuck-ton of cleavage.”
“That’s what I said,” Mom adds.
“Fine, I won’t have the V neckline plunging so low.”
Dad hands the device back to Mom. “You better not. I’ll wrap you up in my jacket if you try to pull that one on me.”
“So overprotective,” I playfully grumble.
“Of course.” Dad gets up, then asks, “Is there food in this place?”
“Luca made Alfredo last night. The leftovers are in the fridge.”
“Let me see if his cooking is good enough for my daughter.”
While Mom and I continue to browse ideas for the wedding, Dad wolfs down all the leftovers, then walks through the apartment.