The green-eyed, sprite of a woman with dark, spiky hair grinned like she was pleased and proud. It really was funny and terrifying how easily and quickly Marcus could pull things together when he needed to. It helped to be rich. It also didn’t hurt to have a last name like his that demanded attention and respect when he signed it to a check.
“Good to know people get it right when they talk about me,” Marilyn replied.
Marcus laughed, saying, “They sure do. Are you ready to meet my fiancée? This is going to be a bit of a surprise for her.”
“Oh?”
“Don’t worry. She’s in a good mood today. I made sure of that.”
• • •
“Marcus?” Cella’s entire face brightened when he walked into her Rochester office with Marilyn, the wedding planner, close behind on his heels. “I thought you were heading back to Toronto today?”
“I can afford one more day here.”
Surely.
Cella rounded her desk with questions in her eyes as her attention drifted between him and the woman behind him. Marcus took his time to properly greet his fiancée before introducing the two women, however. Kissing Cella to her cheek and resting his arm along her lower back to hold her close, he always wanted her to know she was the most important thing in his world.
Or the room.
Whatever.
“Surprise,” he murmured against the top of Cella’s head. “I hope you didn’t have any plans for lunch. I know Tiff is having a play date with her friend—I’ll pick her up, so it’s one less thing you have to worry about today. I thought maybe you would be trying to catch up on stuff, so this would be the best time to—”
“Bring a friend,” Cella interjected.
Marcus’s chuckles rocked them both. “A planner, actually. A wedding planner. Cella, this is—”
“Marilyn Cooper,” the woman said before Marcus could, her bubbly personality showing through even more when she darted forward to offer her hand to Cella with a bright, wide smile. “I have heard so much about the infamous Cella Marcello and your interior designs. I can’t believe I’m going to be planning your wedding. This is crazy town.”
Cella gaped.
Marcus just laughed.
“Need a minute to catch up, babe?” he asked Cella.
She nodded. “Just one or two, yeah.” Peering up at him, she asked lower, “Really? A planner?”
“It’ll be easy. No stress at all. A three-month deadline is pretty typical for my clients, if not less. You won’t have to do much more than pick a dress, agree to a color scheme and theme, and show up on time, Cella. I promise.”
Cella clearly heard everything the woman said, but she only looked Marcus’s way when she asked, “You picked a date, then? Three months?”
“That’s before the babies,” he returned. “Which is what you wanted. And you did say yes to me making things happen if it didn’t interfere with anything else, right?”
“I did say that ... now I’m wondering what else you’re just waiting to pull out of your hat.”
She was quick.
He wasn’t done yet.
Marilyn tittered on the spot, her excitement becoming a voracious ball of energy in the office. “Is that a yes, then? Am I officially planning a wedding?”
Cella let out a soft laugh when Marcus grinned her way. “I guess yeah ... that’s a yes.”
As long as she kept saying yes, then he would keep making things happen.
Fair was fair.
41.
Cella
KNOWING Marcus planned to pick Tiffany up from her playdate with a friend, Cella wasn’t at all surprised to walk into her kitchen after work and find the two of them laughing together. It was the rows of printed images that they had spread over the massive countertop space that made her pause in the doorway.
Even from her spot, she could see the images made up a larger picture. Of what looked to be rooms, spaces, crown molding, flooring, a garage, and so much more.
“What are you two doing?”
Tiffany didn’t even look up from the photo she held. “Shopping, Ma.”
“What?”
Marcus’s dark laughter hit her square in the gut as he crossed the room to greet her first before anything else. He always did that; she had started to notice it, and she liked it. She loved the feeling that he made sure that she knew she was the first thing on his mind even when all she had done was walk into a room where he was too.
How did she get so lucky?
Her second chance at forever was proving to be everything she could ever want and more. Then again, she figured Marcus should take the credit for that. He certainly put in the effort to make it work with them. Every day.
Tipping her head back in his palms, he dotted sweet kisses across her pouty smile. “How was the rest of your day?”
“Good.”
“The planner—the plans?”
Cella grinned. “We made some headway on things over lunch. I think she knows where to go from here with different things I like, and I’ll be seeing her again in a couple of weeks to go over more details.”
“No stress, right?”
“Marcus.”
“Hmm?” he asked, smiling in that knowing way of his.
“You’re amazing.”
“I’m only trying a little, sweetheart.”
Really?
Only a little?
She wondered what this might look like if he put one-hundred percent of his effort into it. Actually, that might be a little terrifying.
Marcus pressed closer to her, molding their chests together as his warm palms slid down her body until he had her tiny waist in his hands, and his thumbs could stroke the sides of her stomach. Where his babies grew, she knew. He was careful about never intruding on her space and body but when it was just them and things were quiet, his hands always found her stomach. A very small curve was just starting to grow there. Soon, she knew it would be huge. He still seemed to love what she had for now.
“I try to keep my word, that’s all,” Marcus said, showing his white teeth as he winked. “Are you happy? Is it working?”
She didn’t think people knew the truth about Marcus ... something in his personality that barely anyone but perhaps those closest to him could see. For those he loved, he felt such a strong need to please them. Especially her. And he wanted to know he was doing it and doing it well. That’s when he was most happy.
“It’s working,” she promised.
“Good.”
“And you didn’t answer my question,” she added, leaning to the side to peer around him at the photos still spread out across her kitchen. Tiffany had crawled up on the island to grab a photo further down the counter. “What is all this?”
Marcus stepped back, waving an arm wide. “Take a peek for yourself. Let me know what you think.”
He kept talking as she headed for the closest countertop filled with pictures. Setting her bag aside, she reached for one that showcased the front entrance of a rather large home. The circular driveway crossed under marble pillars that supported a roof that jutted out from the front of the house. Massive double doors stained in a rich color waited just above marble stairs. The next picture was of a guesthouse. Another showcased a winding staircase.