My Big Fat Fake Honeymoon - Lauren Landish Page 0,133

to deal and knock on the door when they come over like I do.

“I don’t have a ring. I thought I’d have time to get my grandmother’s from Italy for you. But after talking with your dad, I couldn’t wait. I had to ask you tonight.”

One of my brows lifts. “You talked to my dad about asking me to marry you?” Warning bells are going off in my head and through my whole assembled party.

“You might not like it, but he’s a little traditional, dear. It was sweet.” Dad comes to Lorenzo’s defense. I can see Dad shaking his head at Lorenzo out of the corner of my eye, miming zipping his lip.

“So, you’d thought about it enough that you talked to my dad, had plans to get your grandmother’s ring, but then decided on a whim to just go for it and ask me tonight?” I clarify.

I can see Lorenzo teasing through the words, mentally translating them to Italian and looking for any errors. My family is utterly still and quiet, not even breathing. Well, besides Carly, who’s babbling away, happily oblivious.

“Yes,” Lorenzo says finally.

I jump up on him, my legs going astride his waist, and he catches me easily. “That’s so sweet! You were all ‘gonna do this right’ but got carried away because of me?”

I feel his smile against my lips as I pepper him with kisses.

“I do tend to do that with you, mia rosa.”

I wrap my arms around his neck and lay my head on his shoulder, squeezing him tightly. God, I love this man who’s somehow as rooted and as wild as I am.

“We can get rings later. But you’re totally getting a tattoo wedding band from Reno tonight. I’m leaving my mark on you,” I tell Lorenzo, leaving no room for argument.

His smile is soft as he lets me slide down his body until my feet hit the floor. His hands release my hips to cup my face gently. “You already have.”

“Okay, I think I get it now,” Vi says. It’s like she didn’t even know that her cousin was the best thing since Betty White or sliced bread.

“Are we really doing this?” Courtney whispers to Mom.

Mom turns to me. “Abi, are you really doing this?” She looks worried. I think any mother would be, so I understand, but yeah, I am.

“I can do the whole white dress situation later at a celebration reception, okay?” I know how important those moments are to my mom, but this is my wedding and I want it like . . . this.

Dad’s always got my back, though, and truly has only ever wanted his children’s happiness to surpass his own. “Works for me. A party is cheaper than a ceremony and reception.” He wraps his arm around Mom’s waist, squeezing her hip, and she sighs.

Her nod means everything.

Vi hands me the flowers. “You are crazy as f-u-c-k,” she says, spelling out the curse word so Carly doesn’t learn bad language. Newsflash, she’s my niece and Ross’s daughter, so it’s fairly written in stone that her first words are not going to be scrapbook-worthy.

“Yep,” I agree. “Good thing I found a man who likes me like that.”

On cue, Reno walks out from the back with a guy in a leather vest. “What the hell do y’all want?” Reno barks. He definitely wasn’t expecting to find a dinner party’s worth of fancy people in his lobby.

I raise my hand to wave. “Hey, Reno!”

His gruff demeanor melts. “Well, hey there, Abi. Who you got with you tonight?”

“My family. Remember when you were distracting me and told me how you do weddings for your friends?” I bat my lashes, knowing this might take a little finesse. Maybe even more than it took to get my mom on board.

“Yeah.”

“Can you marry Lorenzo and me? Like now? And tattoo our wedding rings?”

“Uh . . .” He looks to Lorenzo, his bushy brows asking if he’s okay with that. I think if Lorenzo blinked twice in rapid succession, Reno and his buddy would probably grab Lorenzo and run out the back door with him, hostage rescue style.

Lorenzo takes my hand and nods. A smile teases at his lips. “Please. I need to . . . what’s the expression?” He searches his mind and says with a bigger smile, “Lock her down before she learns what a degenerate I am.”

Reno laughs at that.

But he’s no dummy, either. He sees my dad—hell, probably all of us—and knows money when it’s standing right in front of