Chapter Thirty Four
Mia
The first strains of At Last by Etta James play as Mateo sweeps me out onto the black and white dance floor. I consider it symbolism that the glimmering dance floor assembled in our back yard looks just like a chess board. I remember a time when I was certain I was his pawn, but now here we are, king and queen, sharing our first dance at our wedding reception.
“Is dancing always this sexy, or is it just you?” I ask, cocking my head to the side.
“It’s just me,” he assures me, solemnly.
I chuckle, hugging him close and leaning my head on his shoulder. “Probably. You make a lot of things sexy that shouldn’t be.”
“So do you,” he offers back. “You clearly made marriage sexy somehow, because here I am.”
I lean pull back to grin up at him. “Bet you never thought I’d be the one to drag you to the altar.”
“I was pretty sure we were going to drag you to the river; the altar was definitely not on the table.”
I roll my eyes, lightly pushing him in the chest. “You’re not supposed to bring up former plans to murder me on our wedding day. It’s not romantic.”
“Sure it is, you just have to present it the right way.”
He’s so crazy. I love him so much. I sigh and rest my head on his shoulder. The only problem with our wedding song is it’s so damn short. I want to stay out here on this dance floor with him forever.
It’s a gorgeous night and our backyard is aglow with white and gold. Tiny tea light lanterns hang from nearby trees, a wooden frame was built in the middle of the yard to hang strings and balls of white lights from. Beautifully dressed tables are set up around the dance floor, a band plays behind us. Ahead, the elegant cake Francesca made us—pink and gold, his favorite color and mine stacked on top of each other in five tiers—sits under a spotlight. Francesca surprised me with a smaller “bride’s” cake—a strawberry cassata cake shaped like a Christian Louboutin shoe box with a fondant shoe on top. It is awesome. Adrian was excited about the cassata cake, too. There’s so much food, an open bar, and lots of strangers I’m now related to by marriage strolling around.
It’s hard to believe this magical scene is ordinarily just a huge patch of grass.
“Everything is so perfect,” I murmur, pressing a tender kiss along Mateo’s neck.
His fingers lightly trail across my exposed shoulder, sending a thrill right through me before leaning in to own my ass with his neck kisses. “It sure is,” he murmurs.
“Thank you for stealing me.” I smile as he pauses in kissing me to meet my gaze.
“Best decision I ever made,” he states.
I sigh as the song ends and I’m forced to stop dancing. “We should’ve picked a longer song. Are there any six-hour long songs? We should’ve picked one of those.”
He shakes his head. “Had to be this one.”
The man on stage announces it’s time for the bridal party to join us for a dance. It mostly works out—Francesca and Sal, Elise and Adrian. Things get slightly stickier with the unpaired couples. Meg goes to dance with Dante and Mateo waves for her attention, shaking his head.
“What?” she asks, innocently.
“Nope.”
She gives him a “what the hell?” look, but she abandons Dante and goes to dance with Alec anyway.
“Why can’t she dance with Dante?”
“I don’t trust those two together,” he states. “Aw, damn.”
I turn to look and see why, and Bella is shooting Mateo a look of annoyance because now she has to dance with Dante.
“This is starting to feel offensive,” Dante states.
Sighing with regret that fills me with regret, Mateo asks, “Do you mind if I dance with Bella?”
“Oh, my god, you’re making me dance with Dante?”
“You can handle him,” he assures me, dropping a kiss on my lips before he goes to save Bella. I can’t even argue with that, so as uncomfortable as it is, I straighten my shoulders and approach my new brother-in-law with my politest smile. I’m so salty about it, though. I’d much rather dance with Adrian if I have to take a cast-off. Even Alec. Not Dante. He doesn’t like me.
“I guess it’s you and me,” I say, since he appears to be no more excited about this than I am.
With a deceptively even tone, he remarks, “Well, it seems I am the only man in the family who hasn’t had a turn.”
I can’t help rearing back a little, but the asshole is already yanking me in for this godforsaken dance. “Wow. Do you make a habit of calling women whores on their wedding day?”
“Nope. I made an exception for you.” He smiles, pearly whites gleaming. He resembles Mateo enough that it’s vaguely creepy—like what Mateo might have looked like if he’d ever actually wished me harm. A shadow of the darkest moments when I thought he might have.
“I’ve never seen you smile before,” I state.
“It doesn’t happen a lot,” he acknowledges.
“I don’t think I’ve done anything to earn your hatred. Maybe we should start fresh now that we’re family, hm?” I suggest.
“You lobotomized my brother,” he states.
I roll my eyes. “That’s insane.”
“You’re not one of us,” he states. “You may curl up next to him at night, you may call this your home, but you’re not like us and you never will be. It’s foundational with you. I just called you a whore to your face on your wedding day and your response was, ‘hey, we should start fresh.’ Not, ‘Fuck off, Dante.’ Not ‘Yeah? Let me tell Mateo you said that, asshole.’ Your response was ‘Hey, let’s be friends.’”
“I don’t need Mateo to fight my battles for me,” I tell him. “Where possible, I prefer to disarm people than to fight back. Fighting only leads to more destruction. Peace is how you resolve things.”
His eyes light up like I just proved his point. “Exactly. We are the attackers, Mia. We are the ones who start the fight. We are the ones who destroy the peace.”
I glance past Dante and see Mateo keeping an eye on us. I flash him a smile to let him know everything is fine. Glancing back at Dante, I meet his brown eyes and give a light shrug. “So? You think I don’t know that? I’m not a moron.”
“Good and bad can’t exist together like that. Sooner or later, one has to corrupt the other.”
Smiling faintly, I meet his gaze. “Good can’t corrupt evil, Dante. That’s not how that works.”
“Sure, it can,” he says, smoothly.
“Nope.” I stand firm, shaking my head. “Good heals. Only evil corrupts.”
His gaze turns calculating as he watches my face. I don’t know what he’s looking for, but it makes me uncomfortable. His hand tightens on my waist and he pulls me closer, startling me. He leans close and asks, “Have I underestimated you?”
I don’t want to be that close to this particular Morelli, so I try to put the space back between us. “I think people always underestimate me,” I tell him.
Adrian and Elise are suddenly right next to us, and Adrian shoots Dante a look before asking casually, “Everything okay over here?”
I shoot Elise a hopeful look. “I don’t suppose you want to switch?”
Elise shakes her head. “No chance.”
“We’re fine,” Dante tells Adrian, his hold on me letting up a little. “Just giving the bride my best wishes.”
“Sure, that sounds right,” Adrian replies dryly. “We’re just gonna dance here and keep you guys company, then. I’m sure you won’t mind.”
Suddenly we’re approached on our other side and Sal’s voice joins the fray. “What the hell, is there a private party over here? How come we weren’t invited? I’m about to be offended.”
“For the love of God,” Dante says, rolling his eyes.
“I don’t think my dear brother is enjoying the party, Sal. Maybe you should cut in,” Francesca suggests.
Sal lightly smacks himself in the head. “Why didn’t I think of that? See why I married her. Those Morelli smarts.”
Francesca grins, leaning in and giving him a kiss before breaking away. She winks at me as she grabs Dante’s arm and hauls him to a more remote corner of the dance floor.
“Bastard just can’t play nice, can he?” Sal remarks, putting a hand around my waist and taking the other one. Glancing at Adrian, who remains right where he is, Sal raises an eyebrow. “I think we got this under control now.”
“Yeah, too many white knights and only one princess,” Elise states, raising her eyebrows at Adrian.
He doesn’t look cowed, but he does drift away to his own spot on the dance floor.
“I couldn’t help noticing none of the knights riding to your rescue were your asshole husband,” Sal points out.
I grin, meeting the warm gray eyes of my nicer new brother-in-law. “I didn’t marry a white knight; I married the evil king.”
“That’s for damn sure,” Sal agrees.
“He would’ve saved me if I needed it,” I tell Sal, to reassure him. “I had things under control. Dante’s just threatened by the sides of me that intrigue Mateo. I’m glad he wasn’t boss back when I met the family. He definitely would’ve killed me. I’m sure he has his own issues that make him the way he is, though.”
Sal shakes his head. “You’re an odd girl, I’ll tell ya that.”
I flash him a teasing smile. “I’m not a girl, I’m a woman.”
“I’m married, not dead; I know you’re a woman.”
I laugh, glancing back over at Mateo and Bella. I expect him to be more relaxed now that I’m not dancing with Dante, but he’s openly scowling instead. “I think my husband is feeling threatened.”
“Damn right,” Sal says, puffing up. “I’m an intimidating motherfucker.”
I wink at Mateo, then turn my attention back to my dance partner. “How’s Mark? I haven’t seen him in forever.”
“He’s doing good.” Sal nods. “We seem to have cured him of his Head-Up-Ass Syndrome now that he’s not hanging around you anymore.”
I give him an exaggeratedly unapologetic shrug. “Only the mentally strong can hang with me. Sorry, Mark.”
“Apparently you melt the brain of any man who isn’t a straight sociopath,” Sal agrees, nodding.
Speaking of people whose brains I have melted, I ask, “Has anyone heard an update on Vince? For obvious reasons, I haven’t wanted to ask Mateo.”
His gaze automatically drops to my stomach.
“Eyes up here, buddy,” I state, darting a glance at Mateo. At least now he’s paying attention to Bella. I know the baby is still in my womb, but let’s not bring it up today.
“He’s still safely tucked away in Connecticut, last I heard.”
My eyebrows rise. “Connecticut? Is that where he is?”
“Goddammit. See, they need to give me better details if they want me to come in on this shit, like ‘hey, don’t tell Mia where Vince lives.’”
I smile faintly. “It’s not a secret, I just haven’t asked. I try not to bring him up to Mateo at all and he hasn’t been pressing the issue too hard lately, so I’m just avoiding the topic altogether in hopes he’ll forget. Every time it comes up, Mateo’s all, ‘hey, have you changed your mind about the value of Vince’s life? Can I murder him today without hurting you? No? Okay, I’ll ask again later.’”
Sal’s dark eyebrows rise and he shrugs. “For once, I can’t disagree with the guy. I’d have already killed the little asshole. You’re not even my girl, and he’s made my hit list.”
“I don’t want Vince to die, he just needs to let go of this idea he has of me and move on with his life. He can’t do that if he’s dead.”
Unmoved, Sal replies, “Should’ve thought of that before he hurt you.”
“Wounded people always hurt those who care about them, Sal. Look at Mateo. If he can find a way through it, surely Vince can.”
Sal snorts. “Mateo is not an example I’d hold up of someone who has moved past hurting people.”
I don’t bother arguing, I just let it go. It’s not like Mateo wouldn’t hurt anyone, but he’s certainly more careful than he was when I met him. The night Mateo and I talked in his library, the man was an island. He told me—and I still think he meant it—that he had no one. Adrian hated him; now here he is, best man in his wedding. Francesca wasn’t to be trusted any more than the sister who tried to kill him, and he married her off to his rival. His rival, currently dancing with me at our wedding, is no longer a rival.
The list could go on, but I don’t require evidence. I know there’s good in Mateo. He doesn’t always know how to harness it like normal people, but he does his personal best and that’s all I’d ever ask of him.
“I know,” Sal says, apparently misinterpreting my silence. “You love the asshole. I wish you loved healthier people, but I’m glad you’re happy. I hope he doesn’t burn you out.”
I roll his words around in my head, but ultimately reject them. “I wouldn’t want to love anyone else. Mateo and I are a perfect pair. I’ve never fantasized about Prince Charming, Sal. I like a man with an edge.”
“There’s edge and then there’s controlling, abusive asshole.”
I give Sal a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “Trust me, Sal. I like when he controls me.” I hold his gaze, then add a little more slyly, “I like it a lot.”
The last strains of the song have barely finished but Mateo apparently doesn’t like me dancing with Sal; he approaches before we even have a chance to separate.
“Salvatore,” he acknowledges, nodding. His arm moves around my waist and he tugs me close to his side.
Sal nods back, then immediately rats himself out. “I told her Vince lives in Connecticut. My bad.”
My jaw drops open. “Goddammit, Sal.”
Sal shakes his head. “I don’t fuck around with this guy and secrets. Better just to tell him. I thought she knew. Sorry.”
Mateo’s grip on my hip tightens at the mere mention of Vince’s name. I lean my head on his shoulder and wrap my arms around him to give him a sideways hug.
“Anyway, congratulations and all that shit,” Sal adds, before taking off to find Francesca.
Despite his firm grip, Mateo appears vaguely amused when he moves in front of me and pulls me close as the next song starts. “You’re trying to keep secrets from me now, huh?”
“No,” I say, one hand on his shoulder, the other playing with his lapel. I can’t look him in the eye as I say this—I’ve kept more secrets from him than I ever wanted to—so I keep my gaze on his broad chest. God, he is a sexy man. “You look so good in white. Like, I would not have expected you in a white tux today, but you sure pull it off.”
“Nice try,” he remarks, smirking down at me. “If you have questions about Vince, just ask me; don’t try to pry them out of other people. Especially Sal—he’s not even my man, for Christ’s sake. I would’ve expected you to ask Adrian.”
“Well, I might have, but Elise gave me a firm no on dancing with Adrian; Sal won by default.”
“Elise is smarter than I used to believe,” he tells me.
“She rivals me in possessiveness, and that’s saying something,” I agree. Frowning suddenly, I raise my gaze to his. “Speaking of things that make me get possessive, you never did explain the Gremlin ice cream situation.”
I watch his face attentively for any signs of shade, but come up empty. “There’s not much to explain. I was obviously struggling with what to do about your pregnancy. I already knew your side of things, so I wanted to be alone. Meg interrupted, as she’s wont to do. She offered to lend a friendly ear and I thought perhaps a new person to bounce thoughts off might be a good idea. I only had you and Adrian, and both of you were on your side of the debate.”
It vaguely irritates me hearing that. “But Meg was on yours?”
“Nope.” He shakes his head. “Turned out she was on yours, too. She’s less emotional than you and less judgmental than Adrian, so her points were more reassuring.”
“Oh.” That relaxes me. Ordinarily I would never expect the worst from Meg to begin with, but after what she told me about selling me down the river to Vince, my confidence in her was a bit shaken.
“So, that was the ice cream situation. The Gremlin situation is that you’re far too young, and apparently we need to have a movie night and educate you.”
“I’m game,” I tell him.
“Adrian liked the movie as a kid; he’ll probably come, too.”
Feigning disappointment, I say, “Oh, no, not Adrian. I hate him.”
Mateo rolls his eyes. “I’m sure Elise will tag along.”
“I need to make her like me.”
“Probably not flirting with her husband would be a good first step.”
I smile at how lightly he says it. No part of Mateo is threatened, which makes it that much funnier that he was annoyed by Sal dancing with me. “She doesn’t even know I flirt with him, and she disliked me long before that started anyway. She’s looked at me like I’m a weirdo ever since Meg came around.”
Rocking his head left, then right in consideration, Mateo says, “Well, you made a point of forcing Elise’s eyes open about me, then turned around and lied to Meg about the same thing. I don’t think she understood your motivations.”
I roll my eyes, shaking my head. “That’s dumb. If I hadn’t, she may have missed out on Adrian altogether to chase after you.”
“I’m not disagreeing with you, just offering a take on her perspective.”
I carry on with my scenario. “Then Adrian would be single and lonely.”
“So, your type,” he says, lightly.
“And then maybe he would’ve decided to save me from my own personal tormentor.”
Tugging me a little closer, he says, “You don’t want to pit me against Adrian, trust me.”
“It’s an alternate reality. Obviously in the real world, I love you both. Anyway, while I’m suffering from your delicious brand of Mateo torment—”
Before I can detail the rest of my fantasy, Mateo shuts me up in the loveliest way—by catching the back of my head in his big, strong hand and pulling me in for a tender kiss.