world we created, paul lahote

Chapter 33

Months had flown by in a blink of an eye and it was already nearing the end of another wonderful year. It was bizarre how time sped on by when life was pleasant. Each day was as good as the last and Lucia could say she was glad for that. School had gone swimmingly, the young woman already having finished her first year of culinary school. One more year to go and she'd be finished with school entirely--which was a relief.

Paul had opened up his own mechanic garage during that time to earn a steady income. He couldn't take up odd jobs anymore as it wasn't just him anymore. I mean, he was about to make a vow to Lucia in a few days. He couldn't expect her to be the sole breadwinner in their home. It was out of the question.

Speaking of their wedding, it was safe to say the couple was beyond excited about it. Nervous, sure, as they were rather young to be wed but excited nonetheless. Lucia's family had flown in from Bologna to celebrate this time and meet the groom they'd heard so much about.

Paul had been in awe of how large her family truly was on her father's side. He'd expected it to be just as small as her mother's but he was wrong--not that he was upset about it. Knowing that he was about to be welcomed into a family of this size warmed him from his head to his toes. The idea of being a part of the Barone family was something he was beyond ready for. He'd always wanted a large family.

"Sai, non ci aspettavamo che tu trovassi un marito quando ti sei trasferita a Forks," Lucia's Nonna tutted, her hands holding her granddaughter's. Her eyes shifted to Paul who spoke with an animated Vincent who showed off his firstborn like a trophy. "Sei sicura di essere pronta a sposarti, tesoro?"

Lucia smiles warmly at her nonna, squeezing her hands as she looks at her fiancé. Vincent had handed his daughter to Paul, the young squishing his cheeks together and he couldn't help but grin at her. "Sono nervosa, sì. So di essere ancora giovane, ma sento di aver preso la decisione giusta. È perfetto, nonna. Lo amo."

"Questo è tutto ciò che potrei desiderare, mia cara." The older Barone patted Lucia's hand, a cheeky grin pulling at her older features. "È piuttosto affascinante anche lui. Hai scelto bene."

Lucia can't help but laugh, her cheeks flushing a bright shade of pink at her grandmother's words. The older woman rises to her feet and pats Lucia's hair, her green eyes dancing over the crowd as they land on Charlie who is at the drinks table, awkwardly glancing around the room. She pinches Lucia's cheeks and says, "Ora, andrò a parlare con Charlie. La mia bambina è diventata un po' troppo magra per i miei gusti e mi chiedo se l'abbia nutrita."

Lucia giggles at this, watching as her Nonna makes her way to Charlie. She then looks towards Paul, who catches her eyes, gesturing for her to come over, and she does. His attention is on her when she approaches, barely noticing how Vincent retrieves his daughter who scowls at him. He scowls back at her before blowing on her neck, drawing high-pitched laughs from her mouth.

"I was wondering when you were going to come over," Paul murmured, his hand sliding around her waist and drawing her into him. She willingly fit into his hold, the two slotting together like a perfect puzzle. "Was everything okay? You guys looked to be having a serious talk over there."

"She was just worried but all is well now," Lucia reassured him. Paul's smile deepens, clearly pleased to see her looking more relaxed than earlier when her grandmother initiated the talk.

"Well, don't forget I am here," Vincent teases, a cheeky smile directed at the couple. His eyes move to Lucia who leans into Paul's embrace. "I still can't believe you're getting married, Lucy. You beat Nonna by a year."

"The best things happen at an unexpected time, I suppose." Lucia glances at Paul as she says this and the shifter meets her gaze, his brown eyes sparkling. In a room filled with people, all she can stare at is him. His cheeks flush beneath her gaze and her heart flip-flops in her chest, the feeling that rushes through her indescribable.