Seduced by Sunday

She stood, dropped her purse, spilling its contents. You’re here?

Yes.

Meg scrambled to fill her purse, shoved the unused boarding pass into her pocket, and sprinted through the airport.

He stood in a suit, of course, jacket wrinkled, tie loose around his neck. His ruffled hair evidence of his fingers running through it. The scruff on his chin made her mouth water, the flowers in his hand made her sigh.

Their eyes caught and she slowed her pace as she walked closer.

There were no words, just a hungry embrace and an indecent kiss that lasted much too long for a busy airport.

When he let her up for air, she asked, “What are you doing here, Masini?”

“Claiming you, mi amore.”

“We almost passed in the air again.”

He nipped at her lips, kissed her again as if he couldn’t help it.

“I missed you,” he managed between kisses.

“I missed you too, damn it.”

His blistering smile lit the terminal.

Val pushed the flowers he held into her hands. “These are for you.”

They were battered, a little wilted, but the most precious flowers she’d ever seen. You’re a sap, Meg!

“Thank you.”

He lifted a finger, then patted his jacket pocket. “I have something else for you.”

The smile on her face froze as he removed a small box from his pocket and dropped to his knee.

Her heart kicked hard in her chest, her lungs squeezed.

Breathe!

Meg was vaguely aware that people around them stopped moving and started to stare. Was this really happening?

Val locked his eyes on hers. “I met you on a Monday, you enchanted me by Wednesday, and seduced me by Sunday. You’ve stolen my heart, Margaret. For that, I want to selfishly steal yours. But I know I can’t take what you won’t give me, so I’m going to ask for it. Ti amo, bella.” He paused. “Do you know what that means?”

She shook her head.

“It means I love you.”

Ti amo . . . an endearment that sounded beautiful, but held little meaning, now said so many things.

Happy drops of sunshine fell from her eyes.

“Marry me, cara. Give me your heart.” He opened the box. It held a vintage engagement ring, the round diamond sitting in a cluster of smaller stones that tapered down the side of the setting.

She moved her gaze from the box to Val’s eyes.

He held his breath, waiting.

She dropped her purse, heard change rattle across the floor of the airport, and held out her left hand.

Val smiled, removed the ring.

She clenched her fist at the last second, made him look at her. “Fair warning, Masini. That goes on, it doesn’t come off.”

He tossed the tiny black box over his shoulder and slid the ring home.

Meg fell to her knees, stared at her future. “I love you.”

The sound of clapping didn’t stop her from kissing him over and over again.

Epilogue

The simple silk dress for an island wedding proved perfect for the warm winter day. Sapore di Amore held only family and friends.

Meg’s parents flew in the day before and were all too happy to welcome a son-in-law to their family. However, in the words of her mother, “You don’t have to marry him to stay committed.”

That was when Meg learned that her parents, the throwbacks from the sixties flower children that they were, apparently never signed on the dotted line. Crazy how weddings and funerals brought out family secrets. Not that it mattered. Her parents adored each other.

Val and Meg spoke their vows overlooking the Caribbean, Judy stood beside her, and Lou stood beside Val.

A nondenominational minister performed the ceremony, because what else could it be and keep all sides of the family happy?

When he pronounced them husband and wife, Meg heard her grandmother say mazel tov, and Mrs. Masini say amen. When Val kissed her, she sang her own praises.

Hand in hand, Val led her into the reception, where the party was in full swing. The first to intercept them was Jim. He pulled her away from her husband and sighed. “I guess this means I have to look for a new woman,” he teased.

Meg flashed her ring and a smile. “’Fraid so. I’m taken.”

Then Jim kissed her. Full-on kiss on the lips.

“Hey!” Val said from the side.

“Just kissing the bride, Val.” Jim winked and walked away, his eyes already on wife number six.

Meg stopped Val from going after the man. “You have nothing to worry about, Masini.”

He removed two flute glasses filled with champagne from a passing waiter’s tray and moved to the mic, pulling her alongside him.

He tapped a spoon on the side of his glass, captured the attention of their guests.

“Thank you all for coming.”

Some of the guests mumbled, lifted their glasses in the air, and drank.

“I’ve heard it said that a man takes a wife . . . but those of you who know Margaret, know that it’s she who has taken me.”

A collective sigh went over the crowd.

“I built Sapore di Amore without realizing exactly why. Over the past few months, I figured it out. I built it for my family, yes, but I built it for you.” Val stared into Meg’s eyes, lowered his voice. “The short time we were apart, I knew Sapore di Amore meant nothing without you here.” He kissed her fingertips. “Thank you for saying yes, bella.”

“Thank you for asking.”

Val lifted his glass in a toast. “To my beautiful wife, Margaret Masini.”

She sipped from her glass and took his lips.

When cheers ensued, she pulled away and whispered, “I think you can call me Meg now.”