Logan had been officially named the agent in charge of the task force, which might have been intended as a punishment, a career ender because the task force was standing on wobbly legs. Logan changed that. They were now actively chasing the rest of Sully’s henchmen, drug dealers, moneymen, and sources. Good times.
Dez rubbed a hand down Mick’s thick thigh, which had healed nicely. Her phone buzzed, and she yanked it from her purse—what the hell was the world coming to when she was wearing a dress and carrying a purse?
“Be still,” Aunt Peg hissed, jabbing an elbow in Dez’s rib. Next to her, Jerry laid an arm on the back of the pew and whispered for her to be nice.
Dez opened the text message.
How long does this last?
She smiled down the pew where Nate sat with his best friend Joey and Doctor Diane. The single mom had finally received news from the family court that she was awarded full custody of Nate. They seemed to gel as a family the way some people did. Diane had been a little cowed by Uncle Manny, who named himself their family protector. He sat on the other side of the boys, dressed like an undertaker, even for a wedding. Took all kinds.
Peg smacked Dez’s arm and motioned for her to keep her eyes up front where the bride and groom had finished their vows and moved down the aisle. The bride looked like royalty, her chestnut hair in an updo that would make a princess swoon with envy. Yeah, it took all kinds, even those who believed in happily ever after.
They drove to the reception with Aunt Peg and the sheriff, who weren’t any closer to making things permanent, much to the sheriff’s frustration. Aunt Peg had the man wrapped around her artistic little finger. At the reception, Mick split off to engage Nate and Joey while Diane motioned Dez to the bar.
“Buy you a shot, Detective?”
“Tequila?”
“Oh, you think you know me.” Diane laughed and handed Dez a shot glass. “To happy endings?”
“Not you, too,” Dez moaned, but she tossed back the shot, felt it burn down her throat to land like a flaming torch in her gut. “You find true love, Doc?”
“No, having Nate officially join my family is enough happy ending for me.”
“Hmm,” Dez wondered. The bride and the groom were doing the first dance deal, with Eli, Nate, and Joey tossing rose petals at the couple. Mick and Blake egged them on from the edge of the dance floor. “You let Uncle Manny babysit yet?”
“There’s not enough tequila in the world,” Diane said, laughing. “The man terrifies me.”
“He says he’s retired.”
“From what?”
Should she tell Diane what Manny did for a living? Nah. “From saving Vicki and Nate’s lives. He claims that was his mission in life, and now he can settle down.”
“Oh, well.” Diane frowned at her. “Don’t tell me you’re on his side?”
Dez shrugged but stopped herself when she recognized Mick’s trademark move. “I don’t think anyone would dare touch your boys if Manny babysat.”
“For that, you buy the next round.”
Nope, Diane did not fit the suburban mom image. At. All. But Dez did her duty and bought another shot for each of them. The burn turned to heat faster than the first shot, and Dez missed the end of the Bride and Groom dance.
“Here comes your man,” Diane said, gesturing over her shoulder.
Mick approached like a predator, big and scary. Man, but she loved that about him. “Dance with me,” he said, twirling her onto the dance floor.
“You’re supposed to ask.”
“If I ask, you can say no.”
“I’m onto you, Mick.”
He swept her into the dance, his large body shifting around hers with smooth moves she wouldn’t have expected from a man his size. He had all kinds of depth.
“I’m not wearing a monkey suit,” he said, sweeping her in close and whispering in her ear. Dez looked around, saw Blake in his tux dancing with Vicki. The engagement thing looked good on them.
“No one’s asking you to.”
“And I won’t pretend to be someone I’m not.”
“Okay.” Dez wondered if the two shots of tequila were slowing her brain cells. “Something eating at you, Mick?”
He shrugged, his muscles flexing under her fingers. “I figured we’d go for tattoos.”
Her heart softened. Poor guy looked as comfortable as a bear in a trap. “You want to get matching tattoos?”
“Yes. No.”
“Which is it?”
“When it’s our turn to tie the knot, I thought we’d go for tattoos.” He rubbed a circle around his ring finger. “Instead of rings.”
Dez’s pulse thumped so loudly she could barely hear the music. “What are you saying?”
“You know.”
“No, I don’t. A girl has a right to hear the words.”
He stretched his neck like the weight of the world sat on his shoulders. “Marry me.”
That’s about as close as she’d get to an actual proposal. Dez’s heart filled. “Tattoo rings, huh?”
“Is that a yes?”
“You know you can’t take that shit off. A tattoo is forever.”
“So are we.”
Dez smiled. “We can do forever.”
“Damn straight.” Mick pulled her close, nearly cutting off the flow of oxygen.
She turned her head to the side and rested it against Mick’s solid chest where his pulse beat against her cheek. He was her man. She couldn’t quite wrap her head around it. The dance floor filled with cops and mobsters, FBI agents, and hit men, Aunt Peg and the sheriff.
The Calvetti organization had a saying: no one leaves the family, except by way of a body bag. Sick bastards. This right here, dancing and drinking and loving, that was family. No doubt this was the weirdest dynamic on the planet, but there was no denying the people in this room were her family, and it meant everything.
“I love you, Mick Donovan, and I’d marry you any day of the week.”
“Name the time and the place.”
“This weekend. Vegas.”
His large head dropped back as he laughed loud enough to draw the attention of half the dance floor. “Trying to scare me?” With a flourish unexpected in a man of Mick’s temperament, he gave her a spin and dropped her back for a low dip that had her hair skimming the dance floor. Her heart raced. His easy strength still did it for her. “Bring it, sweetheart.”
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Acknowledgments
Many thanks to retired police officer David Knowles for providing me with stories, answers, and even more questions about the life of a police office. Any errors in police procedure or fictional alterations for the benefit of the plot are my own.
This book owes its success to many fabulous people in my life. To the talented Awnna Marie Evans, thank you for being such a wonderful editor and advocate. To my writing friends Jennie Marts and Beth Rhodes, thank you for writing sprints, encouragement, and support. To my friend Kimberly Cisneros, many thanks for the use of your name as my DB. May our friendship last longer than your character did.
Finally, to Brianna and Noah: you are my everything. Love you always.
About the Author
Cindy Skaggs grew up on stories of mob bosses, horse thieves, cold-blooded killers, and the last honest man. Those mostly true stories gave her a lifelong love of storytelling and heroes. Her search for story took her around the world with the Air Force before returning to Colorado.
As a single mom, she’s turning her lifelong love of storytelling into the one thing she can’t live without: writing. She has an MA in Creative Writing, three jobs, two kids, and more pets than she can possibly handle. Find her on Facebook as Cindy Skaggs, Writer, @CLSkaggs on Twitter, or www.CSkaggs.com to sign up for her newsletter.
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