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988 Words
Maybe she’ll never love him. And maybe he’ll be moody or irritating or a slob, but now I believe he won’t hurt her beyond the petty ways husbands and wives can hurt one another, those small moments of unkindness, words spoken thoughtlessly or small deeds of neglect.
Quinn killed four men today. Protecting me—us, our family—he took four lives.
He would’ve taken on an army by himself if he had to.
Which convinced me, more than anything he could say, that she’ll be safe with him. It might not be a love match, but a man who will protect a woman with his own life is a rare thing.
So rare, I’ve never seen it before.
So although I might have wanted someone different for Lili, this Irishman will do.
“Buona sera, Reyna.”
I look up from the stove to see Leo entering the kitchen. He’s the same age as Gianni, and looks about the same, too. Slicked-back dark hair, custom suit, pinky rings. With their close height, build, and coloring, they could be brothers.
“Buona sera, Leo. Thank you for coming.”
He waves that off. “You look well. Not a scratch, eh?”
“Not a one.”
He chuckles, shaking his head. “I suppose you can’t scratch titanium.”
As is the way with all Gianni’s friends, he never looks right at me. He addresses me directly, but his gaze lands anywhere but on my face. I used to think it was respect, but now I think it’s fear.
Men don’t like unpredictable things they can’t control. Which is why they prefer dogs over cats. “How’s your mother?”
“The same ray of sunshine as ever. And yours?”
“Her arthritis is worse.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Please send her my regards.”
“I will.”
Gianni walks in, nodding at me and clapping a hand on Leo’s shoulder. “Smells delicious, sorellina.”
“I made enough for an army, so Leo’s men can come in and eat in shifts during the night.”
Leo looks surprised. “Thank you. They’ll appreciate that.”
“Soldiers can’t focus when their stomachs are growling.”
Gianni says proudly, “She would’ve made a good general in the army, eh?”
I know by the compliment that he’s getting ready to ask me to do him a favor. Otherwise, he’d be taking credit for teaching me everything I know about cooking.
He taught me nothing, of course. The man doesn’t even know how to boil water. Between Mamma, his late wife, and now me, he’s never made a meal in his life.
Quinn enters the kitchen, instantly making the room feel crowded. I have no idea how his presence takes up so much space, but it’s a gift. He pulls up a chair and sits at the table.
He doesn’t look at me, but I sense a huge change in him from when we last spoke. He’s glowering and agitated, drumming his fingers restlessly on the tabletop, a thundercloud of temper settled over his features.
Honestly, the man should see a doctor about his mood changes. A girl could get a broken neck trying to keep up.
Gianni glances at him as if waiting for permission to speak. When it doesn’t come, he says abruptly, “We’ve decided to move up the wedding date. For Lili’s own safety and—”
“I agree,” I interrupt, calmly stirring an enormous pot of carbonara sauce.
Quinn’s sharp gaze snaps in my direction. My body temperature rises several degrees. No one says anything for several moments, then Gianni clears his throat.
“Well…good. She needs a gown. And she’ll have to be all packed and ready to go to Boston. Her clothes and belongings, whatever she needs.” “Of course. I’ll take care of everything. How much time do I have?” “A week.”
My stirring falters for only the briefest of seconds before I start up again. “I see. The venue?”
Quinn says gruffly, “The Old North Church in Boston.”
Shocked, I glance up at him, meeting his penetrating gaze. “A church? Is that safe? Somewhere so public?”
“It’s our home parish. If the head of the Mob can be safely married there, so can his men.”
When I look at Gianni, he nods. I suspect they’ve had in-depth discussions about the exact safety precautions that will be put in place for the ceremony. Discussions I won’t be privy to, so I’ll just have to trust they know what they’re doing.
I don’t, but I’ll have to try.
“What about the rehearsal dinner? Where will that be held?”
Looking stumped, Gianni glances at Quinn. “Do we need a rehearsal dinner?”
Quinn examines my face for several seconds. “What do you think, Reyna?”
I almost drop the spoon in surprise, but manage to compose myself in time. “We definitely need a formal meeting between the two families before the wedding.”
Gianni says, “I’m making the trip to Boston tomorrow to meet Mr.
O’Donnell.”
“That’s fine, but you’ve got to get the women involved, too.”
Gianni looks irritated by that. “Why do we have to get the women involved?”
Leveling him with a stony stare, I say, “Because we’re joining our families, and it’s respectful to include us in something so important. Because it will help Lili adjust to her new life in Boston if she’s already met some of the women she’ll be spending time with. And because we’re the ones who decide if your home lives are heaven or hell, so you should accommodate us once in a while.”
Sighing, he says, “Fine. We’ll have a rehearsal dinner.”
- Writer
