Page 96 of No Promises, No Lies

Rory pales, looking a little like she’s going to be sick. “An…hour?” She swallows hard, her eyes darting to mine. I try my best to give her a reassuring smile.It’s all moving so fast.

“Can’t afford to waste any time. Let’s get you two married and everyone out of the city while we plot out our next move. Before the Russians and Italians make theirs.” Koen’s face is grave. “I suggest everyone start packing.”

“I think I have a dress you can wear,” Reagan offers, moving to sweep Rory up. “It’s not much, but it’s better than Aidan’s stinky boxers.” She sticks her tongue out at me as she pulls Rory away with her, and I return it with a face of my own.

“You sure you’re ready to be one of us?” Koen asks, watching the three of us. His question directed at little Kostalova, an unexpected softness in his hard eyes.

If Rory’s startled by his sudden question and the fact he stands only a few feet from her, she doesn’t show it. Instead, the corner of her lips tilt up in the slightest hint of a smile. “I think there are worse things.”

56

LOVE, LOYALTY, FRIENDSHIP

RORY

“Idon’t have any white dresses, I’m sorry!” Reagan tears through her closet once more. Articles of clothing fall to the floor the more fiercely she looks through them.

“It’s okay,” I reassure her, but she won’t be diverted from her task. “I can wear this.”

Reagan freezes, turning slowly, with a slow perusal of my body from the bottom up.I cringe when her eyes finally lift to mine. I’m completely aware that I’m still in Aidan’s boxers and faded Breakers sweatshirt.

“We may be under the wire, but we’re not desperate, Rory,” she huffs, turning back to her closet and pouting at it.

A knock comes at the door and I can’t help but jump, the tension in my body coiled tight.

“Not to rush you ladies, but Father Lucent is waiting.”I recognize the sound of Liam’s voice through the door.

Reagan swears, diving back into the growing chaos that is piles of expensive fabrics. “Okay, we’ll be just a minute.”

“Reagan…” Liam warns, his tone skeptical.

“Like ten more minutes tops!” she shouts. Lifting a shimmery silver fabric high into the air with a broad grin on her face, she adds, “Maybe less!”

After what seems like well over an hour, I’m squeezed into Reagan’s dress, a glittering silver tea-length cocktail dress with thin straps and a sweetheart neckline. My hair is curled, the front pieces braided away from my face.

Picking at the leaves on the single white rose Liam gave me to hold, I pace the small room I’m to wait in that looks very much like a study.

But unlike Papa’s or Matteo’s, this study isn’t dark or imposing; it’s cozy, filled with warm light from the setting sun. The loft’s floor to ceiling windows see to that. The books lining the oak shelves aren’t fancy or leather bound. Instead, they’re beat up, with crinkled spines and some even missing covers. Well-read and well-loved.

A handful of couches and wide arm chairs are scattered about the space nonsensically, as if frequently pushed around and moved. I eye the thick blanket draped over the back of one of the couches, resisting the urge to wrap myself up in it and hide for the rest of my life.

I still at the sound of a knock at the door, and am momentarily relieved at the familiar sight of Alexei’s head poking through.

“Ready Ro?”

I swallow hard, a lump forming in my throat. Dipping my chin, I clutch the rose stem as I walk forward, relieved when my former bodyguard links his arm through mine. I lean on him for support as he escorts me to the courtyard garden where thewedding will take place. Nervously chewing my lip. Thankful for the clear bit of gloss Regan brushed over them.

The late afternoon sun casts a golden hue over the private garden, the string lights making up for the fading light glowing softly overhead like little stars.

I freeze under the attention of so many people. I knew Koen had put a call out to the Irish underbosses, needing witnesses for the ceremony, but I never expected so many to come with such short notice.

Muscle-bound tattooed bikers, dressed in various cuts of leather, line the ivy covered brick walls of the garden. There are a few disgruntled glares, but most of the men look on curiously. Forcing my gaze past them, I follow the cobblestone path to find Aidan at the end.

When his green eyes find mine, I forget everything else. My trembling hands steady for a moment under his gaze, something unspoken passing between us.

Alexei nudges me forward and I take my first step down the make-shift aisle, noticing Aidan’s brothers standing stoically by his side, all of them dressed to impress. My heart does a flip at the sight of Aidan in his tailored suit. The rough-cut Irish Devil certainly cleans up nicely.

When I reach the end, Reagan reaches forward from my side, plucking the rose out of my hand before it’s replaced by Aidan’s hands, pulling me in closer to him. I inhale sharply, my eyes wide as they stare up at him. Alexei joins his brothers, taking up his place next to Liam.

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