‘Deadly nightshade?’
‘Dad!’ Sophy whirled around.
‘You look beautiful.’ He walked towards her, looking super-establishment in his grey suit. But he was smiling that wonderful, proud smile. ‘Would you like me to walk up the aisle with you, Sophy?’
‘Oh, Dad.’ She took the two paces and he folded her into his arms. ‘Just the one way.’
He laughed. ‘Yes, you have the exit covered already.’
‘How did this happen?’ She couldn’t believe it.
‘Lorenzo’s spent the last three days organising it.’
‘But is it legal?’
‘I’m a judge, honey. Of course it is.’
‘But how?’
‘He’s a good man. And he knows how to get things done.’
Sophy nodded. ‘He’s very strong. He’s wonderful to me.’
‘I can see that. It’s obvious how much he cares for you. A person who loves you like that, we’ll always welcome.’
Sophy bit her lip. Did Lorenzo love her? In his own way she knew he must—he’d never be doing this otherwise. And maybe one day he’d even be able to tell her.
Her mother came to the door. ‘Hurry up, the poor boy is out there looking paler than a ghost.’
The poor boy? Sophy choked back the laughing sob and gave her mother a hug.
‘No tears, you two,’ her father said gruffly. ‘You’ll both ruin your make-up.’
‘Hold it together, Renz. She won’t be a minute.’
‘I won’t be happy until it’s done.’ Until she was his. He breathed out a long breath—trying to control the racing pulse, the nerves slowly killing him. ‘Thanks for being here.’
‘I wouldn’t have missed this for the world. Dani is beside herself with excitement. You should have heard her on the flight—“I can’t believe it, I can’t believe it” over and over.’
‘I’m sure you figured out a way to shut her up.’ Lorenzo flicked a quick glance to where his friend’s wife sat sandwiched between Kat and Cara, who had her new baby cuddled to her breast. They were out of the neo-natal unit and thriving. Her husband looked like a doting fool. Lorenzo went even more tense—could barely dare hope that he’d be like that one day. His attention swerved straight back to the door at the back of the church. Where was she? Had this all been a huge mistake? Was she working out a way of backing out of it without embarrassing him?
‘Relax.’
Easy for Alex to say. But Sophy was his one hope of salvation. The link to the vulnerable humanity he knew he’d hidden away a long time ago. But with her he had the courage—and the desire—to open up and be everything. To do everything. To embrace all that life had to offer.
He cleared his throat. Okay, so maybe the courage bit was fading. He needed to see her. Had he done the right thing? Her whole family was here. All thirty thousand of them. There was music all of a sudden and an expectant hush descended. The whole congregation stood for her.
Lorenzo couldn’t remember the last time he’d cried. Decades ago probably, as a kid getting a hiding. But the lump in his throat now was like a burning ball of metal—only instead of melting it was getting harder and harder and bigger.
He staved off the tears by sheer will—based in the raw desire to see her clearly at this moment. No stupid salty water blurring the vision of her walking to meet him. Man, she was beautiful. The dress was white and slim fitting and frothed to the floor. Her blue eyes, almost painfully bright, looked nowhere but right into him.
She smiled. And his heart burst open.
He followed the minister’s instructions—repeated the words, listened to her cool, clear voice say them back to him.
So he could kiss her now. But there was something he needed to do first—here and now and in front of a hundred witnesses.
He cleared his throat, took a deep breath as he turned to face her, gazing right into her beautiful blue eyes.
And finally he said it—the thing he’d never said to anyone before. Had never dreamed he’d ever be capable of saying, let alone actually feeling.
‘I love you.’ Suddenly he was freed from the terrible tension he’d felt for ever. ‘I love you.’ He said it again with a smile—louder that time as he recognised it as the beginning of a whole new meaning to his life.
She crumpled and he caught her to him, tasting her tears as he kissed her.
He did. He really did love her—the power of it was beyond anyone’s control. Certainly his. But that was okay. That was better than okay.
Sophy heard him whispering it again as he held her in a bear hug so tight she couldn’t breathe. But she wasn’t letting him get away with just one kiss. Not after that. She put her palms on his face, blinking through the tears, feeling her soul sing as she touched her lips to his. She was tight in his arms again, literally swept off her feet as they kissed.
There was cheering and clapping and, for her, utter reluctance as they drew apart. Sophy turned, faced the sea of smiles and sparkling outfits for only a second. Then she turned back to him and was centred again. He was her anchor. And she his. Together they’d form a foundation from which they could do anything.
He kissed her again, the way she needed to be kissed—with love and heat and fierce intensity.
‘I love you, Lorenzo.’
He smiled, that rare, shining, carefree smile that she hoped would now be much more common.
She’d known there were people. As she’d walked up the aisle she’d seen them in her peripheral vision. But all her attention had been on the man waiting for her at the altar. Stock-still, pale, looking at her as if she were an illusion—as if fearful she’d disappear in a wisp of smoke if he so much as blinked.
Now, as they walked back down the aisle together, her arm tightly clamped to his side, she saw them all properly—her parents, her brother and sister, aunts, a few cousins, Rosanna’s boys, several other friends. And she recognised the Wilsons, Vance, Kat, Cara, some others who she guessed were vineyard workers. All were here to celebrate with them.
From somewhere—who knew where?—a couple of large buses had appeared out the front of the church. They all climbed aboard and were taken to the reception in a marquee in the middle of the Wilsons’ vineyard. They dined and danced and laughed. It seemed Lorenzo really had impressed her father. The two of them bonded over fine wine and possible investments. Her mother was just floored by him. Sophy understood that all too well. Sophy gazed round at the gleaming silverware, the white and silver decorations making the room sparkle.
It was the grandest gesture anyone had ever done for her. She who’d organised this and that—the surprise parties here, the celebrations there. The biggest day of her life had been arranged by all who loved her. In an old church in the middle of nowhere the man she loved had given himself to her—unreservedly.
‘I can’t believe you did this for me.’ She gazed up at him as they danced together on the specially constructed wooden floor.
‘I wanted to do something nice for you.’ He smiled faintly.
‘You’ve done a lot of nice things already, Lorenzo—you gave me workshop space, you gave me time in Hanmer, you did those designs for me.’
‘But it was all with conditions. There are no conditions on this.’
‘Other than that I promise to be your wife and to love you always.’
‘Just that little thing, yeah.’
‘Unconditionally