Page 71 of Assistant to the Mafia

Romeo lifted his flute of sparkling cider—the provided drink, because Dante refused to provide something his bride could not partake of—and loudly said, “To the future!”

“To the future!”

Grace pulled Romeo close again several minutes later, after taking her turn to give Iris a long hug, and whispered to him, “Think you’re up for working on our future tonight?”

Romeo grinned and pressed a kiss to her temple. “Why wait?” He leaned back enough to find her gaze, his hands sliding around her hips. “You don’t think I forgot this is our first Valentine’s Day, too, did you?”

For the life of her, the only thing Grace could think to ask was, “Lucy?”

His grin widened. “Everything’s arranged. Enrico will bring her over to Grandma’s, and since it’s Friday, she’ll get to stay up late. Since there was a party, Grandma will let her eat leftover cake for dessert. And since we’re all in good spirits, when we pick her up tomorrow morning, you and I will pretend we don’t know about the late-night sugar fest. Everyone wins.”

Grace laughed softly and leaned into him, winding her arms around his torso. “You really did plan ahead.” She pushed up onto her toes and kissed his cheek, lowering her voice to be sure none of their surrounding family could overhear her. “I have a little something for you, too.”

He arched a brow. “Should we go get it?”

She smiled sweetly. “We should definitely go. You don’t get it here.” Her fingertips traced over his back.

Romeo grunted and kissed her full on the lips. The kiss was hard and wet, but brief, and then he stepped back and pulled her hand into his once more. “Let’s go check in, then.”

Check in? “Did you rent us a room somewhere?” She almost didn’t whisper the question.

The grin he aimed at her was smoldering. “You say ‘a room’ like it won’t have everything we need for a night to remember.” He made his way up to Dante, not letting go of her hand, and cleared his throat. The action might have been rude in certain societal settings, but Grace was learning quickly. And though the man Dante had been speaking to was old enough to have more silver in his hair than brown, he bent his head and ducked away as if he’d been the one to cause an inconvenience.

That was what it was to be at the top in the mafia.

Dante’s lips lifted in the closest Grace had ever seen to a soft smile on his face. “Heading out?”

Romeo nodded. “Got our own plans for the holiday. But I really am happy for you, brother.” He and Dante clasped hands, and then Romeo led Grace from the room.

Mo fell in ahead of them somewhere along the way. “To the hotel, sir?”

“Oh, so everyone else knew?” Grace teased.

“Only the people who needed to know.”

“Your requested items have been delivered,” Mo said, “and my wife really appreciates you grabbing us that last reservation for tonight.”

Romeo clapped Mo on the shoulder as they stepped into the garage. “You’ve earned a night off. Get us to the hotel, let Mikey’s team be on standby, and I’ll call you sometime after breakfast.”

Once they were settled in the backseat and the Navigator was in motion, Grace looked over at her fiancé. “Are you excited to be an uncle?”

Romeo’s eyes warmed. “It’s a little strange to think about,” he said, “but also exciting. I won’t be the only one of us with a kid anymore, for one thing.” He chuckled briefly. “And with Dante having a boy, it feels like a good omen.” He reached across the middle seat and threaded his fingers with hers. “Our dad was an eldest son, too, like Dante is now. So now there’s a path to succession, I guess.”

Grace smiled. “The De Salvo dynasty,” she said, both teasing and dreaming. Romeo arched a brow at her, but she didn’t let him question her silly words. “We really need to pick a date.”

“The first of May,” Romeo said immediately.

She stared at him for a long second. “Of … this year?”

He nodded. “I want you to wake up on your birthday a married woman,” he said. A devious smirk teased his lips. “Rather, I want to wake my wife on her birthday with an orgasm—only the first of the day—every year, for the rest of my life.”

Heat coursed through her and Grace held tighter to his hand. Her birthday was on the third of May, which of course he knew. If she understood right, he was choosing the day to allow for travel time. Which also meant that in addition to planning a wedding in roughly two months, she needed to prepare to miss another chunk of work.

She ought to have been mortified at the notion, yet the only thing she felt was excitement. When she found her voice again, it was barely a whisper. “The first it is.”

Epilogue

Stronger, Prouder, Prettier

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