Tossed Into Love
Page 40

 Aurora Rose Reynolds

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“Since my mom texted this morning before the sun was even up, I’d say not long.”
“Didn’t think so.”
I smile as I feel his fingers trail lightly down my spine.
“We can elope,” he suggests.
I pull away to look down at him and frown. “No way.”
“So Vegas is out of the question?”
“Vegas isn’t even an option. I want a dress—a big, puffy dress. And a church. I want my dad to walk me down the aisle, and I want to see you waiting for me at the end of that aisle. Where you tell me I’m the most beautiful person you have ever seen. Where we promise to love each other in front of our families.”
“Whatever you want, Princess.” He grins, wrapping his hand around the back of my neck and pulling me forward for another kiss.
When I lean back and look into his eyes, I can tell that he will always do whatever he can to make me happy. We both might have been tossed around a few times, but in the end, we caught each other. That’s all that matters.
Epilogue
ANTONIO
One year later
Watching my wife from across the room, smiling at something Palo is saying to her, my chest fills with pride, love, and possessiveness. Six months after I asked her to marry me, we had a small ceremony at a church in the city. The event was elegant and classy, and I surprised Libby that day with a horse-and-carriage ride to the church to give her a little more of her fairy tale. I’ve learned over the last year and a half that my wife might like nice things, but she doesn’t do over the top unless over the top can be done on a budget. She’s perfect for me in every way. I couldn’t be luckier.
“Two minutes till midnight!” someone yells.
Libby’s eyes find mine across the space.
I close the distance between us while grabbing a beer for myself and picking up a glass of champagne for her off the table.
“Have I told you how beautiful you look?” I ask when her front is tucked against mine and she smiles up at me.
“You might have mentioned it a time or two.” She takes the glass of champagne I hand her and holds it down at her side.
“I really love this dress.” My eyes roam over the tight red dress that hugs every beautiful inch of her frame while my hand slides around her hip to her back, pulling her closer to me.
“You mentioned that as well.” Her fingers dig into my sides as she grabs hold of my shirt.
“One minute!” Hector calls out into the roomful of people.
It’s our friends and family—a group of people that has seemed to grow over the last year.
“As much as I love it, I really can’t wait to take you home and get you out of it,” I whisper against her ear, feeling her shiver.
“Ten!” people start to count around us.
“Five . . . ,” I say as I lower my mouth to hers.
“One . . . Happy New Year!” everyone shouts while I kiss my wife.
She pulls her mouth from mine, and I watch her eyes as they open.
“Happy New Year, Daddy.”
Those four words spoken against my lips cause my lungs to tighten—along with my grasp on her.
“You’re pregnant?” I search her gaze as I stare down at her in disbelief.
“Yes.” She smiles as she nods.
Picking her up off the ground, I spin her around in a circle and listen to her laugh. “We’re pregnant?”
“Yes.” I watch her nod again as tears fill her beautiful eyes. “Are you happy?”
“God, yes.” I gather her against me and feel my throat close. I never would have guessed that the woman in my arms would give me everything I ever needed and then some. That she would show me what love is, show me that it’s okay to trust another person, show me that it’s okay to go after my own dreams.
“Love you, baby,” I whisper.
“I love you, too,” she whispers back, looking into my eyes.
She does love me. How or why, I don’t know. But I’m one lucky guy.
Seven years later
ANTONIO
“Like this, Daddy?”
I look down at my beautiful daughter, Esmeralda, and smile.
“Yeah, baby. Just like that,” I encourage as she presses out a ball of dough onto the flat metal surface. Her hair—the same color as her mom’s—is tied back in a ponytail. Her tongue is sticking out of her mouth.
“Are you going to teach me how to toss it in the air?” she asks hopefully.
I laugh.
“Do you want me to teach you how to toss it in the air?”
“Yeah! That’s the funniest part.”
“All right.” I pick up a pizza dough that I have already pressed out and toss it into the air, showing her how to do it. Then I watch her try with an amused smile on my face.
“Mommy, look,” Esmeralda says. I turn my eyes to my wife and watch her walk toward us. Seeing the look in her eyes, I find it almost hard to breathe. Dropping my eyes to our daughter, I watch her toss the ball of dough into the air and twirl it around.
“If you get any better at that, honey, I’m going to put you to work.” Libby smiles at our girl before resting her hand against my arm. Looking down into her eyes, I smile. Then I drop my mouth to hers for a quick kiss.
“I thought you were supposed to be taking the day off . . . ,” I say.
She rolls her eyes.
“I slept in. I’m okay now,” she says.
I move my eyes to her stomach. She’s nine months pregnant, and this pregnancy has been harder on her than the last.
“You need to be home, Princess. You need to rest.”
“I want to be here, spending time with my family,” she counters.
I sigh, knowing I’m fighting a losing battle. She loves the pizzeria. It’s her baby, too, and dragging her away from it is like pulling teeth.
“We will all go home together as soon as our pizzas are done.”
“I have some stuff to take care of in the office.”
“Don’t make me talk to Hector,” I whisper.
She narrows her eyes. The week after she found out she was pregnant with Esmeralda, she offered Hector and Marco part of Princess Pizza. Even though it was her baby, she knew they would love and care for it just as much as she did. So they worked it out where the three of them would each work a couple of days a week and hire extra people to help take over. Now my wife only works two days a week and does most of the paperwork.
“Fine. We’ll all go home when the pizzas are done,” she gives in.
I fight back a smile, knowing she won’t like that much.
“Don’t pout, Princess. I’m just worried about you and our boy.”
“I know,” she agrees quietly, rubbing her belly, my son no doubt kicking up a storm.
Placing another soft kiss on her lips, we turn our attention to our daughter. We watch her toss her pizza dough into the air and spin it around before she puts her toppings on it and I place it in the oven.
“Oh god!” Libby cries, tucking her face against my chest.
I pull my eyes from the TV and frown. She’s never scared when we’re watching scary movies.
“It’s happening.”
“What?” I pull her face away from my chest and look into her wide eyes.
“I . . .” She stops and clutches her hands to her stomach.
I feel my eyes widen. “Shit.” I get off the couch and lean down over her. “Breathe, baby.”
“I’m breathing.” Her mouth pinches, and her eyes fill with worry. “I feel . . . he’s coming.”
“I’m going to get Esmeralda up and grab the bag. Just stay here and breathe,” I order.
She nods.
“Be right back.” I place a quick kiss on the top of her head, then run for Esmeralda’s room. I turn on the light so I don’t kill myself by tripping over one of the toys scattered across her bedroom floor.
“Daddy . . .”
“You need to get up and get dressed, baby. Mommy’s going to be having your brother soon,” I tell her.
A beautiful smile lights up her face before she bounds from her bed and starts to rush around her room.
Knowing she’s getting ready, I head for the master suite and grab Libby’s hospital bag from the closet. I toss it on the bed before I grab a pair of jeans and put them on, then grab a shirt and put that on, too. Dressed, I grab some clothes for Libby and head back out to the living room.