Call Me Crazy (Bellamy Creek #3) - Melanie Harlow Page 0,39
now was kiss the little witch, but what choice did I have? Leaning forward at the waist, I planted my lips chastely on hers, and she placed a hand on my shoulder. A sigh echoed through the courtroom.
We parted, glaring at each other as the judge began to speak.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you Mr. and Mrs. Enzo Moretti.”
Our families and friends jumped to their feet, applauding, whistling, and shouting. I offered the witch my elbow and she slipped her hand through it as we made our way back down the aisle and exited the courtroom, followed by our guests.
Out in the hallway, we were swarmed by people wanting hugs and handshakes, so there was no time to give Bianca any shit for those stupid vows. My mother and sisters were crying. My father was bursting with pride. Mr. and Mrs. DeRossi both told me how happy they were—I was the answer to their prayers for their daughter. “Take good care of her, son,” Bianca’s dad said, clapping me on the shoulder.
“I will, sir.” I glanced over at my new wife, who was currently being embraced by all my sisters at once, and felt slammed with guilt. Was this man going to hate me in a few months? Was he going to think I was the sort of man that broke such a promise?
Then it got worse.
“Please. Call me Dad,” he said, thumping my shoulder several more times. “We’re family now.”
“Okay.” I swallowed hard. “Dad.”
This whole thing felt a little out of control.
A few minutes later, we all made our way downstairs and took photos in the lobby and on the courthouse steps, and I tried to smile. In one picture, I had to pick her up and cradle her like a baby, and through my teeth, I whispered, “I’m tempted to drop you.”
She whispered right back, “I’m tempted to kick you in the balls.”
Finally, it was time to head over to the Bulldog for the party. Telling everyone we’d see them there, I grabbed Bianca’s hand and tugged her down the street toward my car. When we reached it, I opened the passenger door for her, slammed it shut, and stomped around to the driver’s side.
As soon as I was behind the wheel, I turned on her.
“Egotistical and immature? What the hell was that all about?”
She put up a hand. “Please. It was not worse than having to say all that nonsense about how mean I was, or how good-looking and awesome at baseball you are. Or that it’s my dream come true to iron your shirts and attend your games.”
“Who the fuck is Edward Cullen?”
“He’s only the most romantic character ever written,” she said heatedly.
Rolling my eyes, I started the engine. “Let me guess—a teenage vampire.”
“Well, technically he’s over a hundred years old,” she retorted. “But yes, he appears to be a teenager. And Cheyenne and Blair thought it was very sweet that you quoted my favorite book during your vows.”
“You quoted your favorite book,” I muttered, pulling away from the curb.
“Will you relax? Everything went fine, Enzo. We pulled it off.”
“I guess.”
“We’re married, aren’t we? Boom—phase one complete.”
I drove in silence for a minute or so, rubbing a finger beneath my lower lip.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
I frowned. “Nothing.”
“Something is wrong. You’re doing the thing with your finger on your chin, and that vein is popping out on your forehead.”
I glanced over and saw she’d scrunched up her face in an exaggerated imitation of me, complete with finger beneath her pursed red lips. Smiling a little, I focused out the windshield again. “It was something your dad said.”
“What? That you couldn’t return me? I’m final sale?”
“No. He called me son and told me to take good care of you.”
“Oh,” she said soberly.
“I said I would. And then he said to call him Dad.” I shook my head, my stomach roiling.
“Well, that was nice.”
“Yeah, but it’s all bullshit, Bianca. I’m thinking like, in a year, this man is going to despise me. He’s going to think I’m not a man of my word. That bothers me.”
Bianca sighed in exasperation. “Good grief, Enzo. You need to relax. This isn’t 1955. I don’t need a man to take care of me. My dad’s just old-fashioned. And when we split up, I’ll make sure he understands that.”
“Still doesn’t feel right.”
She started laughing. “Well, it’s too late now. We’re married, Ricky.”
I frowned again, even though I knew that vein in my forehead was popping out.