Page 140 of The Don's Secret Heir

I sniffle, close to losing it, and that’s when the priest rattles off our names and asks if we want to be married.

“I do.”

“I do,” Dario says, the words thick with emotion.

“You may now kiss the bride.”

Dario crushes his lips to mine, arching my back in a dip, and I smile against his lips.

We run out of the backyard, being pelted by birdseed, and laugh as we head to the back of the house where the reception is set up.

Food is being served and I look down at my dress.

“I want to change out of this dress but I also want you to rip it off me,” I whisper to Dario.

“Shit,” he mutters. “Decisions, decisions.”

I giggle. “I think I’ll keep it on, just don’t get mad if it gets stained.”

“Baby, you can burn it for all I care. I don’t mind you naked.”

I smile and lean my head against his shoulder when we sit down to eat. I’m starving, and I eat so much and drink so much champagne I feel bloated after, but I’m also tipsy and full and having a blast.

I glance over to see what Dario’s doing. He’s out on the dance floor with Sonny on his shoulders, dancing. I giggle wildly at them, taking videos with my phone.

“You’d better not post those,” Dario warns as he walks back, putting Sonny down in a nearby chair.

“But why, Daddy?” Sonny asks with a pout. “We were having fun.”

“Post them immediately.” Dario changes his tune instantly.

“It’s time for a certain little boy to go home,” I say, looking at my watch. It’s nearly eight in the evening and his bedtime is in thirty minutes.

“Aw, Mama, let me stay.”

“We’re going on a trip all together soon,” I tell him. Dario wasn’t able to bear being away from Sonny long enough for a two-week honeymoon, so Marie will be traveling with us.

He pouts. “Okay, Mama.”

Dario ruffles his hair. “Be good for Marie.”

“I will. I love you, Daddy.”

Dario’s happy expression cracks, tears in his eyes. “I love you too, buddy.”

He’s still sniffling as Marie takes Sonny away.

“We should have let him stay.”

I laugh. “You’re going to have to let go of him a little if you ever want to have sex again.”

“You’re right. That is very important.” He kisses my temple. “When are we getting out of here, anyway?”

I smack his shoulder. “We still have the garter and bouquet toss, and pictures.”

He groans. “Pictures, pictures! Why can’t we just use our eyes!”

“Because memories don’t last forever,” I point out.