by Sam Mariano
I move the booties off my belly and roll onto my side, curling up close to him on the bed. “I’m sorry your mom died when you were so young. I wish I could’ve met the woman responsible for making you. I hope she would’ve liked me.”
“She was soft like you, I’m sure she would’ve.”
I absently caress his abdomen with my thumb. “Do you remember anything about her?”
“Not a lot. I remember she used to sing. To herself, to me. She was musical and soft and loving. God knows how I would’ve turned out if she’d lived. Certainly not like this.”
I hug him, a wave of fierce protectiveness rolling over me. “You’re perfect.”
“You’re brainwashed,” he says lightly.
I poke him in the side. “I am not. You be nice. I happen to love you, and I won’t abide anyone talking poorly about my future husband.”
“You should probably bring earplugs to the wedding then,” he advises.
I smile faintly. “They wouldn’t dare.”
He sighs, and not with pleasure. “There will be quite an assortment of Morellis at the wedding, not just ones who like me.”
“I don’t want to meet any more of them,” I tell him. “Can’t we just hang out with Adrian the whole time?”
“Morelli weddings are long, too. So long. We should’ve eloped to the beach.”
“It’s not too late,” I tell him.
He smiles, shaking his head. “I can’t.”
“I know.” Absently caressing his side, I say, “It’s okay. We’ll make the rounds and meet all your relatives. It won’t matter as long as we’re together.”
“If anything ever happens to me and he’s still unattached, you should reach out to Rafe.”
I roll my eyes. “What is with you logic-monsters willing your partners?”
He quirks an eyebrow, uncharacteristically confused.
“When Meg was in the hospital after she got shot she told me if anything ever happened to her, basically she wanted me to have you. Now here you are telling me if anything happens to you, I should hit up your Vegas cousin. You’re all crazy. If anything ever happens to me, you should love my ghost. I’ll be right here in this bed, and I’ll haunt the vagina of any bitch who dares roll around in it with you.”
Mateo laughs, wrapping his arm around me tightly and tugging me into his side. “I love you.”
I grin up at him. “And I love you. But I’ve earned my spot and I’m not willing your ass to anyone. You’re all mine, for the rest of time.”
“I’m sorry if my practicality offends you,” he teases. “I just want to make sure you’re taken care of. I would’ve willed you to Adrian, but Elise actually worked out, so…”
Nodding, I say, “See, I could’ve accepted that.”
“Maybe I’ll hire Colin to kill Elise if I ever die. Instructions in my will just for him.”
I grin, poking him in the chest. “Don’t you dare; Adrian adores her the way I adore you. That would break his heart. Let’s not even think about this. Nothing is ever going to happen to you. And if anything does, maybe I’ll surprise all of you and go all Kill Bill and avenge you.”
Mateo snorts. “Yeah, okay.”
“How rude.”
“You and Meg are both afraid of guns. Neither of you can do much avenging.”
“Maybe I’m more of a sword girl. You don’t know. Or poison. Or archery. There are lots of ways to kill people. Don’t be so small-minded. Additionally, Adrian said he’s going to teach me some things, so I’m probably going to be a machine of total lethality here soon.”
He is not appropriately intimidated. “This from the woman who’s made a legitimate hobby of keeping people safe from my wrath.”
I push myself up on the bed, eyeing him up.
Mateo raises an eyebrow in question, then I decide to showcase the badassery I’m convinced I possess, climbing on top of him and pinning his arms down the way he likes to pin mine.
“I can handle myself,” I tell him haughtily.
He does nothing to fight back, but he does roll his eyes. “Please. I could take you while drinking a full cup of coffee.”
I shake my head even as he finally exerts the slightest effort, pushing against me. I’m using all my strength here, and he’s clearly not, but he easily frees his own arms.
“I’m happy to overpower you, if that’s what you’re looking for,” he informs me easily, holding onto my wrists, as if to see what I’ll do next.
“No, I’m gonna show you what a badass I am.”
“But you’re not.”
I go to dive at him again, but he keeps his hold on my arms, finally getting up. He rolls me over on my stomach and easily pins me down, crossing both hands behind my back, securing them with one of his. I try to pull them free, giving him a dirty look over my shoulder. “I watched YouTube videos! This isn’t how that was supposed to go.”
He rolls his eyes, effortlessly restraining my hands. “Adrian’s a good trainer, but he’s not a magician. Just find a new protector if I die. Please.”
“Our son can be my protector. I’m sure he’ll grow up to be a badass. It seems to be the Morelli way.”
“I’m still hoping this is a girl,” he informs me, releasing my hands and reclaiming his more comfortable position beside me on the bed. “I don’t like Cherie, but I’d take her over Vince any day.”
I roll out of my belly-down position and snuggle back up against his side. “Our babies will be their own people, not their genes. Rosalie isn’t a little Meg.”
Smirking, he says, “Yes, she is. She’s got Meg’s attitude.”
“Well, she’s three.”
“I want you to bond with Meg’s son, too. With me and Meg providing his genes, there may be a little too much calculation in him, and he’s my heir. Make sure he loves you.”
Recalling Meg’s bathroom confession, I nod soberly. “That’s a good point, actually. God, your family is so weird.”
“Our family,” he corrects me, dropping a kiss on the crown of my head. “And yes. Yes, they are.”
Chapter Thirty
Mia
Bella can’t stop grinning.
I had to go to the bridal shop to put a rush on all of our dresses. Since it’s a Saturday (and she’s a junior bridesmaid) Bella wanted to come with me.
After the dress shop I thought we’d grab some lunch. Well, my morning sickness decided to strike. When I emerged from the bathroom, wondering why I’ve always wanted to be pregnant when vomiting is so horrible, Bella stood there grinning.
We haven’t told the kids I’m pregnant yet. I don’t know what we’re waiting for—and in my more paranoid moments, I feel like I’d be more comfortable if we did tell them. Just for further verification that Mateo isn’t tricking me. I know he doesn’t want to make me stop loving him, but I also know he doesn’t want to risk me having a son by Vince. Normally in these circumstances, he finds an alternate path to getting his way. Not telling the girls (who would understandably get excited) about my pregnancy just gives more credibility to my paranoid fears.
Absurd, since I’ve spent my whole day adjusting wedding plans. I’m still going to marry the maniac, even half-expecting he’s plotting against me.
“I think you’re pregnant.”
I attempt a severe look. “I’m not at liberty to discuss this.”
“Is it a girl or a boy?”
“We don’t kno—oh, jeeze.”
Bella flashes me a look of victory, ripping her remaining breadstick in half. “Ha!”
“Your dad hasn’t given me the okay to announce this yet. No telling anyone else.”
“That’s why you moved up the wedding, huh?” she asks, smugly. “Dad doesn’t want anyone to know you’re pregnant before you got married.”
That is the logical reason—the reason people likely will assume. Of course he already has children with women he never married, but since I’m the one he’s obviously serious about, his more traditional relatives will probably thin
k that’s why we’re rushing the wedding. Instead of a six month engagement, we are getting married in one month. It’s the only way my dress is still going to fit, and the only way I won’t be showing on the off chance Vince sees any of our wedding photos.
I didn’t think we’d be able to pull together a nice wedding in one month, but wouldn’t you know, all of our vendors are being incredibly cooperative. Mateo was still able to negotiate the theater he wanted for the ceremony, but since it’ll be a summer wedding now, he decided to just set up the reception in our own enormous back yard. I can’t imagine he’s happy about all those people coming to the house to set up, but I like the idea. I’m comfortable at home. It’s where every bit of our history has unfolded—what better place to marry him?
“No, we moved up the wedding because we really, really want to get married,” I inform her.
“My dress is going to be so pretty. You’re going to look like a princess in yours,” she informs me.
“We still need to get you shoes,” I tell her.
She nods, but her focus is not diverted. “I hope the baby’s a boy. We have enough girls. I want a brother.”
Grimacing, I say, “We’re actually hoping this one’s a girl. Meg’s having a boy, so you have a little brother on the way already.”
She picks off another piece of her breadstick and pops it into her mouth. “Tommy thinks it’s really weird that Meg’s having Dad’s son and you’re the one he’s marrying.”
“Who’s Tommy? Is this the same kid from before?”
Nodding, she says, “Meg went to talk to his mom since you weren’t here. We’re friends now, kinda, but I think his mom’s just afraid of Meg.”
I can’t help smirking a little. “Makes sense. Meg’s a little scary.”
“But they think it’s really weird.”
“Our family is a little weird,” I concede, since that’s not exactly a secret I can keep. “But we’re all happy, so that’s okay.”
“Dad slept in your room when you were gone,” she states, almost conversationally. “I think he really missed you.”
I hate to think of him sad, but it makes me feel good anyway. “I missed both of you so, so much.”
Bella nods, taking a drink of her lemonade and eyeing me up. “You didn’t really go to an internship, did you?” She pauses long enough for me to answer, but when I don’t, she goes on, “Dad said you did, but that doesn’t make sense. Why wouldn’t you tell me goodbye if you knew you were leaving?”
“Honey, it’s complicated to explain. I would not have left without saying goodbye if I had a choice, no. I wouldn’t have left at all, because I love you and your dad, and there’s nowhere else I’d rather be than with you.”
“Tommy said you probably got kidnapped by one of Dad’s business associates.”
I really don’t like this Tommy kid. “Tommy doesn’t know anything,” I inform her, opening the little black folder the waitress dropped off a few minutes ago. I reach into my purse and dig out some cash. “Are you ready to get going?”
“Lemme finish my lemonade,” she says, clutching the cup in her hands and sucking it down.
I assume the topic is dropped as we head back out to the car and climb in. Adrian closes the door behind us and climbs in the driver’s seat, but before we even get out of the parking lot, Bella goes on.
“And Tommy does too know stuff. He knows lots of stuff. His uncle’s a cop, so they talk about Dad sometimes. People know who he is, even if they haven’t met him.”
“A cop, huh?” I murmur, glancing in the rearview mirror at Adrian. “What’s his name?”
“Uncle Brian is all I know.”
“What kind of cop is he?” I ask.
“I don’t know,” she says, shrugging unhelpfully.
Well, she’s not a very good junior spy. I’ll have to get with Meg and find out what the mom’s last name was and get a more detailed report about that meeting. We never discussed it since she “handled” it, but if this little pipsqueak has cop relatives, we should probably look into it.
Adrian catches my eye in the mirror, nodding briefly to let me know he’s got it under control.
This is also not my favorite part of life with Mateo. Ordinarily I don’t think much about the fact that Mateo is actually a criminal, but I definitely feel some anxiety when things like this crop up, subtly reminding me. The good guys feel like the bad guys, but that’s because we’re the bad guys. Childrearing in this environment is going to be a little more difficult. And I’ve only experienced the early, mild anxieties of raising the girls.
What’s it going to be like raising sons in this family? What fresh hell will it be to raise the next generation of criminals to quietly reign over this city the way Mateo does? I’m a little relieved it’s Meg’s son that will take his place; I don’t want mine to be in that kind of danger. Maybe I’ll only have daughters. Mateo probably wouldn’t be very pleased, but I’d sleep a lot better at night.
---
“I was curious as to why I had to bring a bathing suit to a bridal shower. I guess this explains it.”
As we all lounge by the pool, I look over at the relative newcomer. I wanted to have some kind of get-together since a bachelorette party was out of the question. We’re basically all pregnant; no one can drink.
Well, some can; Meg is mixing drinks at her poolside bar for those lucky ladies.
The newcomer is Willow Wilde, Elise’s friend and the wife of some guy who does PI work for Mateo. I’ve met him a few times, but they don’t come around the mansion much so I haven’t made friends with her yet. I’m more surprised Meg hasn’t. Meg is all about making friends.
Meg brings over a mimosa and offers it to Willow. Meg looks adorable in a black and white one-piece striped bathing suit, her baby bump popping. Willow is about our age, so she fits right in.
“Oh, none for me, thanks.”
Meg glances at Willow’s flat abdomen.
Willow puts an answering hand across her tummy and nods. “We just found out.”
“Seriously?” Francesca demands, throwing her hands up in the air. “Am I the only woman here who isn’t knocked up?”
“If my mom ever shows up, hopefully she’ll join the not-knocked-up club. This will be super weird otherwise.”
“Like Father of the Bride,” Meg says cheerfully. “We should watch that after we finish at the pool. We’ll take over the media room.” Pointing at me, she says, “Pick a wedding-centric rom-com to follow it up with. Bride Wars? That 27 Dresses movie? You do like James Marsden.”
“Don’t say that too loudly, Mateo will send someone to have a talk with him,” Francesca says, smirking.
I grin, taking a sip of my pink lemonade. “Bride Wars. It’s kind of us, if I had a hot brother to give you.”
“And if you were allowed to have a career,” she says, winking.
“Shh,” I say, shooing her. “Go away.”
“I could totally see you as a nice little school teacher set to marry an intolerant jerkface. Obviously I’m the boss bitch lawyer who gets the good guy.”
“I got an awesome guy, thank you very much.”
“My guy’s like, ‘I’ll be the wind beneath your wings,’ and your guy’s like, ‘bitch, stop having feelings, that’s so annoying.’”
“Mateo would never call me a bitch,” I inform her, raising my eyebrows.
“He would also never let you leave him for my imaginary hot brother. Maybe we can’t relate to rom-coms after all.”
I nod my agreement. “Anne Hathaway probably didn’t have a death necklace.”
“Well, if you ever want out, I figured out the way, it just takes a while. We’ll find him a new model and slowly ease you out once he’s all wrapped up in her.”
“I will stab anyone in the face who even tries it,” I inform her.
“That was my initial plan, but he overruled me,” she says lightly.
“You could never stab me in the face; you love me.”
“No, n
ot the face. I would’ve grabbed a big fistful of hair and plunged the knife right into your chest like a warrior. I would’ve got myself murdered though, so it wasn’t a good idea.”
Willow is staring at us, wide-eyed, trying to figure out if we’re joking or not.
“Anyway.” Meg hands Francesca the mimosa she brought over. “This is your bridal shower and we shouldn’t scare the noob,” she adds, nodding to Willow.
“So, wait…” Willow looks at Meg’s belly, then over at me, a frown of contemplation on her face.
Elise reaches over and pats Willow’s arm, shaking her head. “Don’t try to understand.”
“But—”
“You’ll regret it,” Elise warns her.
“I’m having Mateo’s baby. She’s marrying him,” Meg summarizes.
Willow blinks, glancing between us again. “And you’re friends?”
“Good friends. I am a lover of all women, even the one who is marrying my ex-fiancé. She did me a favor, really. I got the better long-term deal. My babies are adorable and set for life. My baby daddy is Mateo Morelli, so no slimy asshole’s gonna think I’m some poor single mom he can dick around. Mateo gave me my own business, so I can start amassing a fortune of my own. I get all the Morelli mob wife perks and none of the stress that comes with the mob husband. In a couple years, I’ll be shopping for my own trophy spouse.” Indicating me, she says, “She only gets to be a trophy spouse.”
I look out at the sparkling pool in the back yard of the mansion I live in with the sexiest man alive. “Works for me.”
Meg nods, smiling brightly. “We all win.”
Willow still looks a bit skeptical. Elise nods knowingly and leans in to murmur, “I told you they were nuts.”
Finally, Willow shrugs. “Well, whatever works, I suppose. If you and your trophy spouse need any art work, come see me.”
We lounge and chat for a little bit longer before Meg waves toward the arch that leads from the driveway to the side yard where the pool is located. “Hi! You must be Mia’s mom.”
Picking up my lemonade, I sit up and push my legs over the side of my lounger. This is the first time my mom has ever been at the mansion. Mateo isn’t all about visitors, and he’s not all about my mom; consequently, she has never been invited here.
