The Marcelli Bride

“I do.”

“Because the navy is so wonderful? What happens when you get old, eh? They won’t want you anymore. But here, we will always want you.”

“That’s bullshit,” Joe yelled, matching Lorenzo’s rising voice. “You don’t want me. You want some stud service to continue the family name because you have an outdated concept of a woman’s place in the world. Brenna’s doing this a whole lot better than I ever could.”

“Wow.”

Joe turned and saw Darcy standing in the barrel room. She looked more amused than shocked by all the shouting.

“What do you want?” he demanded.

She folded her arms over her chest and leaned against the wall. “If anyone was curious about the two of you being related, this moment would satisfy them. You even yell the same. Anyway, Mia and Ian are packed up and leaving. I thought the two of you might want to say good-bye.”

Lorenzo shook his head. “That girl,” he said as he limped out of the room.

Darcy stayed where she was, watching Joe.

“I wouldn’t have pegged you for a screamer,” she said. “But you were matching him, decibel for decibel. It kinda kills my image of the cool, collected SEAL.”

“He pisses me off.”

“I guess.” Her mouth curved into a smile. “Who would have thought Grandpa Lorenzo could take on the big, bad military guy and win.”

He moved close and stared down at her. “I know forty-seven ways to kill you with my bare hands.”

“Uh-huh.” The smile widened. “And I can bring you to your knees with a single sentence.”

No way, he told himself, liking how she wasn’t intimidated by him or the argument.

“Prove it.”

She rested one hand on his chest, drew in a deep breath, and then sighed. “Joe, I think we should talk about our feelings.”

11

“I don’t think my stitches are even,” Darcy said as she stared at the ten-inch square of fabric in her hands. “Aren’t they supposed to be even?”

Paige leaned over and studied Darcy’s work, then glanced at her own. “Hey, you’re doing better than me. At this rate, the most they’ll let me do is collect leftover scraps and throw them in the trash.”

Darcy tugged at the thread, but it wouldn’t pull through all the way, which left a little bit sticking up that didn’t exactly match the rest of the pattern.

“This is for a good cause,” she muttered. “Tell me it is, because I’m so not getting it.”

“We’re becoming better seamstresses so that when the next Marcelli bride gets her dress made we can help. Not that we’ll be here, but it beats weeding the vineyards, right?”

Darcy smiled. “I don’t think they’d make us do that.”

So far the Marcellis hadn’t asked her to do much of anything except show up for meals and be friendly. Grammy M had stopped by with the squares of fabric and had taught them a couple of basic quilting stitches, with the understanding that in time they would put their newfound skills to good use on a wedding gown.

While Darcy loved the idea of a family of women sewing each bride’s dress, she had a feeling she wasn’t going to be here long enough to see it happen. Although maybe they would invite her back when Mia got married.

“Have you talked to Lauren?” Paige asked, before she tugged too hard, broke her thread, and swore. “I’m not domestic. It’s as simple as that.”

“You and me both,” Darcy said with a laugh. She tossed her square onto the coffee table in front of the sofa. “Yeah, I’ve talked to Lauren. I feel really guilty. I’m here and she’s stuck in some farmhouse in the Midwest. Lately she seems to know way too much about growing corn, which is a little scary. I don’t think she has anything else to do with her day but watch it grow and ripen.”

Paige grinned. “She’s fine. I promise.”

“Hope so.” Darcy glanced at the agent. “You know, Mia’s convinced there’s something going on between you and Alex.”

Paige paused in the act of threading her needle. She blinked twice. “Really?”

The innocence was too studied, too forced. “Is there?”

“Special Agent Vanmeter and I are working on your security team,” Paige said primly.

“And sharing a house. By the way, Mia told the entire family and wants us to help get you together.”

Paige sagged against the sofa. “Tell me you’re kidding.”

“Not even a little. Of course now everyone is distracted by the news Joe was married before, if that helps.”

“It doesn’t.”

Darcy was stunned. “There is something going on.”

“No, there’s not. But…” She hesitated. “There was. A lot of years ago. Alex and I met during our initial training and we developed a thing for each other. But when training was over, we both decided our careers were more important than any relationship and we went our separate ways.”

Darcy hadn’t had a clue. She supposed no one did, except Mia, and that was the point. “And now?” she asked.

“Now we’re protecting you.”

Darcy didn’t think she believed that was the end of it. “Nothing else. No lingering sparks?”

Paige smiled. “Spark is too strong. There might be some heavy smoldering, but it doesn’t mean anything.”

“Because Alex is such a tight-ass?”

The smile turned into a grin. “You’ve noticed.”

“Hard not to. The guy practically invented the word. He needs to lighten up.”

“He wants to keep you safe.”

It was a philosophy Darcy could get behind. Except, over the past couple of days, she’d found herself being less afraid. Less wary of every noise and person she met.

“Are you going to pursue it?” Darcy asked.

“Not a clue,” Paige admitted. “What about you? Lieutenant Commander Larson looks very hunky.”

Darcy leaned forward and grabbed her fabric square. At the mention of Joe her insides got all tight and her face felt hot.

“He’s okay,” she said quietly.

Paige laughed. “Honey, we all know he kissed you out in the vineyard. You were observed by an agent.”

Darcy looked at her. “You’re kidding.”

“Sorry. No.”

Great. One of the many joys of being related to the president. At least they didn’t know about the kiss in the exercise room.

“He’s cute and all,” she admitted, “but I don’t really have great luck with guys.” The ones she’d met wanted her either for her sister or for her family connections.

“Are you worried he’s only interested because you could help him with his career?” Paige asked.

Darcy hadn’t considered that. “Could I?”

Paige looked at her. “Honey, with a couple of phone calls, you could practically get him his own ship. I doubt he’d be interested. Not in any command he didn’t earn. He shares that with Alex.”

Darcy chuckled. “Are you saying Joe’s a tight-ass, too.”

“Pretty much.”

Darcy hadn’t touched that particular body part, but she’d leaned against a lot of him, and he was rock solid everywhere. A quality she’d never considered in a man before but now found very desirable.