“Friends! Family! Enemies who haven’t been whacked yet!” Nona Jo starts, and there’s a ripple of nervous laughter in response. “We are gathered here tonight to witness the beginning of a new chapter for our families.”
Cooper’s hand finds mine, his grip tight enough to suggest he’s preparing for battle. I can’t blame him. The last time our families were in the same room for a “celebration,” someone ended up with a fork in their thigh—and that was considered a successful gathering. And that was just a few weeks back at Thanksgiving.
“Eufrasia and Cupertino”—Nona Jo corrects herself, using our formal names that nobody ever uses unless we’re in trouble or about to be—“have shown us that love can bridge the gap between our warring families. They have demonstrated that what matters most isn’t which crime family you belong to, but the love that fills your heart.”
I blink rapidly. Is Nona Jo getting sentimental?
Has the invasion of the body snatchers finally found its first victim?
And why is this suddenly about us and not Loretta Snickerdoodle and The Ancient One?
“Dinner will be served after the lucky couple is joined as one,” she continues, “and while we dine, they’ll be off in the honeymoon suite I rented upstairs. Once they’ve consummated the marriage, they’ll come down and we’ll all have some cake.”
“What?”both Cooper and I say at once. We’re already practically unified at something.
“The minister will be here momentarily.” Nona Jo plows ahead, her smile widening to slightly maniacal proportions. “Butuntil then, dance and make merry because the lucky couple getting hitched tonight is none other than Cupertino Lazzari and Eufrasia Canelli!”
My jaw roots to the floor, as does Cooper’s.
The room erupts into booming applause as soon as Nona Jo shouts out our formal monikers. The music kicks back in at raucous decibels—some Italian dance number that sounds like a tarantella on steroids—and half the crowd swarms the dance floor while the other half rushes for the open bar.
Nona Jo, who just so happens to look suspiciously pleased with herself, trots off to join a group of elderly women who are undoubtedly her cronies from the senior center, leaving Cooper and me standing in stunned silence.
Watson looks up at the two of us and whines with a look that says,Don’t look at me. I didn’t plan this.
“What should we do?” I whisper to Coop as my brain struggles to process the fact that my grandmother has apparently arranged a surprise wedding.
For us.
Tonight.
Without asking.
Without hope for refuting the offer, too.
There are far too many guns in the room for me to ever consider it.
Cooper gives me a sly smile that sends my heart ricocheting around my ribcage.
“Maybe we should dance?” He picks up my hand and kisses the back of it. “I have a feeling we’ll have to figure this out as we go.”
I’m about to say something when Nona Jo belts out one of her ear-piercing whistles once again.
“And another thing,” she shouts. “I want lots and lots of Italian babies from the two of you,” she calls out from acrossthe room, causing another round of hoots and lewd suggestions from the less than dignified crowd—which is a majority of it.
“She does realize we need to actually agree to get married first, right?” I mutter as Cooper guides me toward the dance floor with his hand warm against the small of my back.
“I think in Nona Jo’s world, the agreement is more of a formality than a requirement,” Cooper says as he dots a quick kiss to my cheek.
We’re halfway to the dance floor when Cooper suddenly veers off course, his body tensing beside me. I follow his gaze and spot the reason for his detour.
Not more than six feet away Loretta is pressed against the wall near the bar with her legs once again wrapped around Enzo’s waist as if she’s afraid he might escape. He has her hands pinned above her head while he kisses her senseless, oblivious to the spectators they’ve attracted.
It’s clear the man has a death wish—or a serious bout of dementia.
A small crowd quickly gathers—mostly Carlotta, Aunt Cat, Suze, Lily, and Lottie, all who seem to be admiring the heat they’re giving off. And I’ll admit, it is pretty steamy, in aNational Geographicdocumentary about mating rituals of the desperate and elderly kind of way.
“You have got to be kidding me,” Cooper growls, stalking over and physically separating Enzo from his sister with the kind of move that belongs in a WWE ring.
