Mariella waved an impatient hand. “It’s already organized.”
“But, Mom, I—”
“You can do both. Remember, we need this wedding to show the world that we are still a tight unit, a family,” Mariella stressed. “So forget all this nonsense about eloping and start mingling with your guests. This is your engagement party,” she reminded them and then smiled. “And you two are not going to deprive me of the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity of seeing my darling daughter get married. I won’t hear of it.” She moved between them, draping an arm around them both for a moment. “Okay?”
Elana nodded. “You’re right, Mom.”
Mariella stepped back, releasing them, looking very pleased with herself. Of course, she would be, Thom thought. She’d won the round, with her best trained attack dog at her side. He noticed that Gabe was still watching them with a kind of veiled skepticism.
Thom wrapped an arm around his fiancée’s slender waist and pulled her close. She smelled so good, like flowers and apples. Beneath the scent of the Creed tuberose fragrance she wore, her signature shampoo was as familiar to him as his own breath, and he inhaled deeply, feeling the comfort and warmth of her seep through to his bones like a tonic. To the world she was Harrison Marshall’s spoiled and indulged daughter, often considered a flake and ridiculed or referred to unkindly in the media. But to Thom, she was his Elana. His best freaking friend in the whole world.
He would marry her. And he’d be faithful. He’d make it work. For both of them. He had to.
He had no other choice.
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