Page 97 of My Big Fat Italian Break-Up

‘Me neither. Boy, you must really be worth it.’

He grinned, white teeth against his Tuscan tan. ‘You know damn well I am.’

I play-slapped his rock-solid pecs. ‘I can’t believe you made me grovel like that when you knew you were going to take me back!’

He caressed the tip of my nose. ‘Let that be a lesson to you. From now on, no one kisses these lips except for me. Got it?’

‘Got it!’

He nuzzled my neck, tugging at the shoulder of my wedding dress. ‘Now, how about a little pre-conjugal visit before I finally make an honest woman out of you?’

My heart jumped and my body responded immediately. Oh, God. Finally. I was beginning to think I was going rusty down there.

‘You promise you’ll still respect me afterward?’ I quipped.

‘Uh-huh…’

*

‘You done in there yet!’ Paul called many moments later. ‘The priests are here and they’re at loggerheads!’

‘Go away,’ Julian called back lazily.

‘You go, girl!’ Judy chimed in.

‘Erica, don’t forget your veil!’ Marcy called.

‘You comin’ or what?’ My brother, Vince.

‘Oh, you’ve got that right!’ Judy cackled.

Jesus, were they all out there listening against the door?

‘Coming!’ I called, getting up, but Julian pulled me back down onto the rug.

‘Are you in a hurry, love?’ he asked huskily as his eyes traveled over my naked body.

‘What, are you already ready for round two?’ I chuckled.

He glanced down at himself and grinned. ‘It appears so.’

I crawled up his body and nibbled on his ear. ‘Round two it is, then…’

We had our entire lives ahead of us. So what was the rush to get out and get married in the next few minutes?

The rest of the story, you can imagine. If you look beyond the break-up, the flowers, the wedding party, the exchange of the rings and the usual wedding stuff, you’ll see Julian and me with all our faults and our one extraordinary Italian love.

Epilogue

Back home in Castellino, our garden twinkled in the sunset with white fairy lights, the crystalware and white linen tablecloths gleaming as the children’s voices rang happily.

Everyone was there for the Italian replica of our wedding dinner – my family, Julian’s parents Maggie and Tom, Renata, Marco and their kids, Sienna, Terry, Mr. Clean (I mean Gabriele), our friends and farmhands and even Eva Santos, whom Julian and I had invited as a surprise for Paul. And when she saw what he’d managed to pull off in a couple ofdays, she immediately signed him a check and booked him – and our newly landscaped property – for her own wedding. If he could organize this miracle at the drop of a hat, she marveled, then he was the wedding planner for her.

In the end, it all turned out well. Mom and Dad made up (as they always do). She continued to ignore her sisters (as she always did) and I was beating VIP guests away with a stick.

Yes, my little boutique hotel had been a great idea and a success. But I had learned one important lesson: priorities. Nothing, absolutely nothing, matters when you have the two most important things: health and family.

As far as I was concerned, success, a healthy body and all those things we crave were legitimate aspirations. But first came love, and self-love. I had finally learned that it was now and forever time to live, love and be happy.

The End