Page 68 of Poison and Wine
After smacking his arm, I huffed, “Don’t be blasphemous.” He didn’t need to know I’d envisioned a similar conversation in my head. Of course, I hadn’t planned on alluding to my body as the promised land.
Grinning, Callum replied, “All right, my little temptress. Once you’re ready, I’ll have Owen and Shane take you to whatever church you’d like.”
“You will?”
“Of course.”
I leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”
“Will you light a candle for me while you’re there?”
My breath hitched. “Would you like for me to?”
“Aye. I need all the prayers I can get to be able to be strong enough to keep my hands off of you.”
“You’re hopeless. Absolutely hopeless,” I huffed before throwing the covers back and leaving Callum alone in the bed.
Chapter Nineteen: Caterina
For the next couple of days, I fell into a somewhat predictable routine. In the mornings after breakfast, two bodyguards would be by my side as I attended mass. Once that was over, I spent two to three hours volunteering at St. Francis’s. Serving others helped to make my life not seem so upended.
In the afternoons, I began exploring Boston. I did all the corny tourist things like the hop on and off trolley tours and seeing the Boston Tea party ships at the shore. I planned on guilting Callum into taking me on a day trip to Salem in the next few weeks.
Then I would come home in time to help Lorna with dinner. She began teaching me how to make several of Callum’s favorite Irish dishes. Between six and seven, all of the Kavanaugh men would begin trickling in the house. We usually sat down for dinner at seven. Afterwards, Dare and Kellan would try to catch me up on some of the movies I’d missed in the last three years. The two were apparently quite the cinefiles.
After he’d finished with all his business, Callum would come and join us, usually when the movie was halfway over. He always scooted his brothers out of the way, so he could sit by me. Usually he pulled my legs onto his lap where he would then begin massaging my feet and calves. He never said anything about it–it was almost as if he was doing it unconsciously. I didn’t ever protest because I liked the nearness of him–the feel of his fingers on my skin as they worked my muscles.
When it came to the sleeping arrangements, Callum and I were sharing a bed. Although I started the night clinging to the far edge of the mattress, somehow by morning I found myself snuggled against him. Callum continued to be a gentleman by keeping his hands to himself. He must’ve been vying for sainthood since usually every morning I felt something digging into my hip or lower back. It remained an elephant in the room since Callum would just get out of bed and shower.
Saturday dawned bright and beautiful for our reception. Even though I was the bride, I hadn’t been consulted about anything. When I’d asked, Callum assured me that his mother and aunts were taking care of everything. A part of me resented not having a voice. I hadn’t had one in my wedding and now I wasn’t in on my reception either. Not that I would’ve had any idea how to plan an Irish wedding reception, but I could’ve learned.
I’d been surprised it would be held at the house on the expansive rooftop terrace. Caterers arrived at noon to begin setting up the food and drinks. At three, Callum had two bodyguards accompany me to a spa where I was given my facial and massage. It was the most decadent thing I’d ever had. I was seriously becoming spoiled in my new life as a mobster’s wife.
Once my pampering was finished, someone from the spa did my hair and makeup for the reception. I didn’t bother protesting why I needed someone to do it. Apparently, Callum wanted to put our best foot forward when it came to me meeting his relatives.
At a little before six, we arrived back home, and I went to the bedroom to get dressed. After the debacle at the airfield, my wedding dress had been professionally cleaned and repaired. I slipped into it just as Callum came into the bedroom in a suit with sexy suspenders. I couldn’t help doing a double-take. “Like what you see?” Callum teasingly asked.
I rolled my eyes. “You’re such an egomaniac.”
His arms encircled my waist, drawing me against him. “Aw, Kitten, can’t you give your husband one little compliment?”
“Fine. You look very handsome and distinguished.”
A sexy smirk curved on his lips. “Thank you, wife. As usual, you are stunning.”
“Thanks to you, too.” Jerking my head over my shoulder, I asked, “Will you button me up?”
“It would be an honor.”
As he began making quick work buttoning up my back, he said, “My mother should be here in a few minutes.”
Nibbling nervously on my lip, I replied, “Do you think she’ll like me?”
His fingers halted for a moment. “Since she lives in Belfast, why do you care?”
“Because she’s your mother. One day she’ll be the grandmother of my children.”
Callum kissed the top of my bare back, causing me to shiver. “Aye, she’ll like you. Especially when you start popping out babies.”