Page 57 of Married to the Mafia

Grace sipped at her tea. “I suppose the real question, then, is whether or not you think you can be happy?”

Brandi pushed out a breath and reached again for her fork. “No one said anything about heavy conversations over breakfast. I thought this was supposed to be a cheerful day.” She aimed a grin at the women seated around her, just in case her sarcasm missed.

Laughter and acquiescence greeted her, but she doubted anyone failed to notice how she dodged the question. It wasn’t like she didn’t kind of already know the answer. She just wasn’t sure she was ready to put it into words.

“Having second thoughts yet?” Romeo asked as he walked up. He was dressed sharply, of course, and had steady hold of the bouncing seven-year-old at his side who couldn’t seem to decide where she wanted to look most.

Mikey leveled a reflexive glare on his brother but stood from the chair he’d been waiting in. “Only about telling you the actual appointment time.”

Lucia spun forward, fixing an urgent stare on him. “Are you really getting married here, Uncle Mikey?”

“I am.” He had no idea what to make of his niece’s visible concern, or the way her brows pulled together as if his answer made the feeling worse.

She opened her mouth, found she still couldn’t tug free of her father’s hold, and pouted. “But … it’s so small! Where will all the people go? And where are all the fancy decorations? Where will you and my new aunt take pictures? There’s always lots of pictures, I remember!”

From his expression, it was amazing Romeo wasn’t laughing out loud.

Mikey dropped to a crouch and tapped her under the chin gently. “You don’t need to worry, Lucy. Brandi and I aren’t having a big, fancy party like the others did, that’s all.”

Confusion overtook her expression. “Does that mean there won’t be any dancing? Or food? You won’t be smashing cake into each other’s faces like Daddy and Mommy did?”

Mikey grinned, partially at the memory and partially at her words. It was amazing how quickly she’d come around, considering how intensely she’d objected to the idea of her father getting married just a few short months earlier. “Not this time,” he said. “There’s no rule that says we can’t have a party just for the heck of it later and do all those things.”

Quiet footsteps preceded Iris’s warm voice as she called out to them, saying, “Can I throw in my vote for postponing the party, like, five months? At least.”

Mikey stood as Romeo and Lucia adjusted to make room, since they’d stopped at the end of the walkway.

“Aunt Iris!” Lucia bolted from her father to throw her arms around Iris and press her face into the side of Iris’s belly. “How’s Vitto today?”

Mikey honestly couldn’t tell which of his brothers chuckled at the question, but they all watched as Iris laid a hand on Lucia’s excessively curled hair and another on the swell of her stomach.

“Vittorio’s been lively this morning,” she said. “I think he enjoyed breakfast as much as I did.”

Lucia’s giggles turned into full-blown laughter and the family moved to claim the available seating as they waited.

Mikey glanced around, unsurprised by the missing wives but curious about the other expected guest who hadn’t shown yet. “Cris running late?”

“He’s waiting outside for the women,” Dante said.

“It starts soon, right?” Lucia asked, bouncing in place on her father’s lap.

Mikey pulled out his phone, glancing at the time before sliding open the tracking app to double-check that Brandi’s temporary phone hadn’t gone for another joyride. Undeniable relief lit through him when he recognized her marker nearly on top of his own, meaning they couldn’t be further than the parking lot. He tucked the phone away again. “It starts in about ten minutes,” he said, answering Lucia’s question.

Romeo leaned back, head tilted to aim a teasing smirk Mikey’s way. “If I didn’t know you better, little brother, I’d think you had more invested in this than you tried selling us the other day.”

Mikey turned a glare in Romeo’s direction.

“You might question what you knew,” Dante said, a smug tone to his voice, “if you’d been with us at the guesthouse this weekend.”

This time Romeo did laugh, the sound barking out of him and shaking his shoulders.

Mikey twisted around, too stunned to properly glare and barely keeping himself from shouting something defensively crude. He did try not to talk that way in front of his niece.

Dante’s expression perfectly matched the tone he’d spoken in, daring him to argue. He sat back in his seat, his arm around Iris’s shoulders and one leg crossed at the knee. He was as sure about his statement as he was about every other thing he ever said.

Mikey grunted and let his head fall back to stare up at the ceiling. “You’re both impossible.” He wasn’t marrying for the same reason they had. He’d never planned to. Hell, he’d never planned to marry, period.

“Oh, good, we’re not late,” Eleonora declared as clicking heels rounded the corner.

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