One year later
The wedding had been perfect.
Outdoors. Wildflowers. Sunshine. Friends. Family. Good Italian food. Great music. Everything his Gracie had wanted.
Rocco got what he wanted, too. Grace was his. Forever.
Tom had walked Grace down the aisle. A fully-recovered Mike had been Rocco’s best man. He had a scar across his throat that had turned him into a chick magnet. Every time Rocco saw him he had a woman on his arm and a smile that went from ear to ear.
Squeezed into a tux, Rocco had almost lost his shit when he saw Grace in her curve-hugging white dress with some kind of beaded corset on top and a long layered skirt made of that easy-to-shred material he liked. She had a crown of flowers in her hair, and when she walked down the aisle she looked so goddamm beautiful he’d choked up and Mike had to thump him on the back so he could recite the words the priest asked him to say. Grace had written some beautiful vows, but when it came time for him to make his pledge, he had only three words to say. Three words from the heart. Three words he’d known from the first day they’d met.
Apparently, they were sufficient, because ten minutes later she was wearing his ring and they were walking down the aisle and his heart was full to bursting because the girl he had loved since she was ten years old had become his wife.
Then the party started.
That had also been perfect. When the Toscani crime family was involved, nothing went wrong from the tent to the food, or from the entertainers to the booze. Grace had coordinated everything and he had been happy to cede control to see the smile on her face. Security, however, had been his domain.
Weapons had been checked at the gate of the estate the Toscanis had recently acquired from a man who had come up three hundred grand short on the loan he had been given to keep his used-car business afloat. Rocco had been in a good mood after a night of sexing up his bride-to-be so he’d given the dude a choice of broken legs or giving up the three acres of prime real estate near the glistening waters of Lake Mead. Although he no longer worked as an enforcer, old habits died hard, and sometimes messages were more effective when bones were involved. He didn’t share his occasional forays back into enforcement work with Grace, but even if he did, she wouldn’t ask him to change. It was part of the job and she accepted him for who he was.
And right now, he was a man on a mission.
He spotted Grace talking with Father Seamus near the stage where Stormy Blu was getting ready for their next set.
“When do I get my wedding present?” He smoothed a suggestive hand over her ass, out of view of the priest, his mouth watering in anticipation of the gift he’d been waiting for all year. He had kept his end of the bargain, but she’d held firm on her promise despite his frequent attempts to change her mind. He wanted to own every inch of her beautiful body and tonight she would be his in every way.
“Rocco. Not okay.” Grace slapped his hand away. “Father Seamus was just telling me the adoption papers will be ready to sign next week. He says Matthew is so excited about coming to live with us, he’s already got his bag packed and waiting at the door.”
Rocco’s throat tightened at the thought of the boy they had decided to adopt. Matthew was around the same age he had been when Cesare had taken him from the orphanage, but the life he planned to give Matthew would be nothing like what he had endured. He wanted to give a child the one thing he had so desperately wanted all those cold, lonely years he’d spent in Cesare’s house—the gift Grace had given him—love.
He glanced over at the wedding tent where Matthew was running around the dance floor with the other Toscani crime family kids. He’d been the ring bearer in the wedding party, but his little suit jacket and tie had long since been discarded. Rocco didn’t blame him. Unused to ties of any form, he felt like he was choking to death. All the more reason to get Grace alone so they could take off their clothes and get down to the giving and receiving of presents.
“Father Seamus wants to know about the house.” Grace gave him a gentle nudge, pulling him back to the present. “Olivia told him you had some friends help with the renovations.”
Rocco bit back a laugh. Grace knew exactly what kind of “friends” had helped fix up their new ranch house in Henderson—men who owed him favors and were happy to help him out instead of losing a few fingers.
“The house is all ready,” Rocco said. “I did the final inspection last night.” They had bought a house with a big back yard for the rescue dogs they planned to adopt as soon as Matthew had settled in, and for the children they would have starting nine months from today after he got Grace out of that dress.
Father Seamus smiled. “I have good news for you, Rocco. I won’t share it today because I think you have enough to celebrate, and there are a few documents you’ll need to check over at my office first.”
“You found my family.” A statement. Not question.
“I did, but we’ll talk tomorrow.” Father Seamus clapped a hand on his shoulder. “I think you’ll be very happy with what we’ve uncovered.”
“We’re going to have a proud Italian name, bella.” He puffed out his chest as Father Seamus walked away. “An honorable name.”
“Or we might become the Smith family,” Grace said dryly.
He slid his hand down her back and squeezed her ass. “When do I get my present, Mrs. Smith?”
“When the party’s over, Mr. Smith. Now go and enjoy yourself.” She wiggled against him and he bit back a growl. He was seriously close to firing a gun in the air and shutting the whole thing down. Although he enjoyed having his friends and around, he wanted to be alone with his wife, hold her in his arms, and lose himself in the miracle of a dream come true.
But more than that he wanted her to be happy. So he waited. They danced. He drank. He put Matthew to sleep in the back of Father Seamus’s SUV. He talked business with the boys, ate too much good Italian food, and watched Olivia and Tom sneak off into the night. He had waited for her since she was ten years old. He would wait for her forever.
Fortunately, forever came at 1:15am.
“Ready to go?” Grace walked into his arms and leaned up to press a kiss to his cheek, her lips curled into a smile.
“Was it everything you imagined, bella?”
“It was perfect.”
His wife in his arms. His friends around him. A boy he could love. She was right. It was perfect.
And so was the present he got later that night.