Page 42 of Poison and Wine
“You didn’t expect to get married in yoga pants in a t-shirt, did you?” I teasingly asked.
“Actually, I hadn’t given it much thought.”
“I’m sorry you couldn’t pick it out for yourself, but we couldn’t run the risk of you being seen.” When she remained staring at the bag, I said, “Here let me bring it inside for you.”
She stepped out of the way before watching wordlessly as I strode across the bedroom to the closet. After I had hung it from the door, I unzipped the bag. “Want a little peek?”
Caterina stared between me and the dress. I could only imagine the thoughts swirling in her head. I knew a part of her wanted to see the dress very much, but another railed against anything that was a symbol of what she was being forced into.
“Don’t tell me you’re not even slightly curious about what it looks like?”
“I think it’s more fear than curiosity driving my thoughts at the moment.” She then scooted me out of the way. After she worked the dress out of the bag, she gasped at the sight of yards of creamy white satin on display. “Oh, my,” she murmured.
“Does that mean you like it?”
“It’s exquisite.”
“Really?”
She nodded her head before staring at me in almost disbelief. “It’s exactly what I would've picked, and everything I would have wanted in a wedding dress.” She frowned. I knew she had to be angry with herself for admitting that. “I’ll make sure to write a thank you note for the sales lady who picked this out.”
“I didn’t have a saleslady pick it out.”
Her brows furrowed. “Then who?—”
“I picked it out.”
Caterina’s eyes grew comically wide while her perfect red lips formed an “o” of surprise. After a few moments of staring at me, she questioned, “You picked out a wedding dress?”
“Aye.” At her continued disbelief, I said, “What about me makes you think I would be incapable of picking a dress for my future wife?”
“I would think the part where you’re an Irish mobster.”
I barked out a laugh at her summation. “I suppose men like me don’t often patronize bridal shops.”
Caterina smiled. “I would’ve given anything to be a fly on the wall to see the expressions of the workers when you walked in.”
“I think they already knew I was a commanding presence considering I paid to close the shop just for me.”
Her jaw jutted stubbornly forward. “Did it ever escape your mind that perhaps I would’ve liked to pick out my own dress?”
“Sorry, love, but like I told you before, we couldn’t run the risk of you being seen in the village.”
“I could’ve worn a disguise,” she protested.
Planting my hands to my hips, I bellowed, “Maybe you should just be thankful I got you an arsing dress at all.”
Instead of cowering at my tone, Caterina merely rolled her eyes. “Don’t get your knickers in a twist.”
“Since when do you say knickers?”
Jerking her chin up defiantly, she countered, “Since I’m going to be an Irishman’s wife.”
With a smirk, I replied, “Perhaps I’ll have to teach you Irish.”
“Are you sure? Once you teach me, then I’ll know what you’re saying to your brothers about me.”
I snorted. “I’m sure.”