Amanda starts clutching at her pearls.
And Saint shoots me a scowl.
Okay, maybe I wasn’t supposed to share that detail, but it just slipped out.
And then I can’t help myself as I proceed to recount the entire incident at the grocery store and Saint’s part in it as he continues to stare at me with an open mouth. I mean, he does steal cereal—and money and lives—so I’m hoping these sessions are going to be just as beneficial for him as they are for me.
“Oh my,” Amanda gasps, clapping a hand to her chest. “You really do need help, don’t you, Saint? But don’t worry, dear, we’re all in this journey with you, and we’ll be with you every step of the way.”
Saint starts to talk a bit about how his parents died when he was young and how he does a ‘few illegal things’ from time to time, and a couple of the others comment how their childhood also caused some of their issues. And I can see Saint really listening to them and taking in what they’re saying. Even though he’ll never say out loud the really bad things he does, I get the feeling that this group is the sort of non-judgmental place he needs to unload a few of his demons.
Later, when we leave the meeting, Saint turns to me. “About your little stunt in there?—”
I interrupt him. “You’ve known all along that I’m a terrible liar. I had to answer Amanda when she asked that question. Because, you know, I couldn’t lie by omission.”
“I know me attending with you makes you feel more comfortable coming to these meetings, so I’ll support you in any way I can—even if it means that people will be thinking that I like to steal from kids.”
I send a glowing smile his way. “And that’s why I love you so much, Saint. Because you accept me just the way I am and because you always want to support me.”
He smiles back at me before giving me a long, deep kiss.
I sigh. “You know, Saint, there’s nothing sexier than a man who’ll go to a therapy group with me.” And as we slip into his car, I tell him to break the speed limit to get us home because I already have the rest of our night all planned out.
* * *
The following week, we’re having dinner when Saint slides a ring box across the table to me.
I frown. “What’s this?”
“Your engagement ring. I thought I’d get it cleaned for you before the wedding.” We’ve decided to finally tie the knot, but this wedding is going to be very different to the first one.
“So, that’s why I couldn’t find it this morning.” I take it out of the box and slip it onto my ring finger.
“By the way, I do know that this is a lab-created diamond worth only aminusculefraction of what you charged on my Amex. And that the ring money and the poker money ended up in the pockets of a charity.”
I open my mouth and snap it shut.Oh shit, I’m sooo bad at lying. I should have known I’d get found out.
And he starts laughing—which is totally not the reaction I’m expecting, especially from a man like him. “You’re something else, you know that, Emerald Fiorelli? People might call you a gold digger, but I reckon the only shiny thing about you is your heart of gold.”
I raise an eyebrow. “I hardly have a heart of gold. I’ve got a history of stealing from other people, remember?”
“Okay, you have issues, but you also have a heart of goldwhen it really counts—like looking after your siblings when they need you and helping other people too whenever the opportunity arises. And that’s why I love you so very much…”
* * *
It’s warmer here than I expected for this time of year, and it lends itself well to the blush off-the-shoulder dress I’m wearing. Some might say it’s a pale gold color, but the tag definitely described it asBronzed Blush.
It’s nowhere near as traditional as the last wedding dress, but I’ve never been more thankful. That dress wasn’t me. It was some version of me I thought I needed to be. But this dress? This one is all me. The sparkles, the short skirt, and the sassy bow. Although it’s definitely not stolen—because Saint might just kill me if it was.
A small smile tugs at my lips. It’s unorthodox, and I can already hear the gossipmongers back home talking up a storm about this—about me in my gold dress marrying Saint in an Elvis-themed Vegas chapel. But this is Saint and me. We’re not the traditional kind of couple by any stretch of the imagination. It just felt right to have our wedding like this.
Heading inside the chapel in the heart of the Strip, we find Christian is already there with Jaspar. Christian’s younger sister, Anni, has also come to Vegas for the wedding, and she has her big white fluffy cat tucked under her arm. Her husband, Lorenzo Marchiano, is nowhere to be seen. “Do you think Lorenzo has had enough of Anni’s cat-crazy ways and decided to divorce her?” Jacquetta says to me with a giggle, and I can’t help but grin.
“Not thinking of disappearing?” Saint asks me.
I look up at him as his arm circles around me, his hand resting on the slight mound of my stomach. “Well, now that you mention it, I heard someone say there was an all-you-can-eat nachos place nearby, and I think that sounds like a better use of my time…” I start giggling, and he laughs too.
This, right here. This feeling that’s fizzing inside me is the sole reason I know this is going to work. This weird and messed up love story between this man and me is going to be just fine. “You’re sure you’re okay with this, Saint?”