Page 73 of Soulmate of the Mafia King
I froze, my free hand twitching toward the gun I’d hidden in my waistband. “What?”
“Not that.” She eased my wrist away from the weapon she knew I carried. “It’s silly.”
I kissed her softly. “Nothing’s silly to me.”
She laughed incredulously. “At the last place, you wanted to try on a dress so tiny and lacy I refused.”
“Guilty as charged.” I grinned down at her. “And I still think those ladies were stuck-up bitches for not letting me.”
She shook her head. “I just…okay, behind your shoulder is a wedding boutique.”
I started to turn, and she grabbed me.
“Why can’t I look?” I asked.
“Because there’s a dress in the window I really like?” She laughed at herself. “God, look at me. I got engaged yesterday, and I’m already dress shopping. I’m going to turn into Sera before the sun sets.”
I smiled. “If turning into Sera means enjoying planning a party celebrating our love, I don’t think that’s so bad.”
She smacked me. “Sap. I’m being ridiculous. I’m never going to get that dress, so you can look if you want to.”
The pieces clicked in my head. She saw a dress she liked so much she instantly got scared of ruling it out because I’d seen it. Because the groom couldn’t see the dress before the wedding. My heart skipped a beat in a silly way that reminded me of childhood crushes. Paige hadn’t agreed to marry me on a whim. She wasn’t having second thoughts. She was racing me to the altar. Every worry I’d had during Killian and Sera’s wedding suddenly seemed silly.
I took her face in my hands. “Go try it on.”
She frowned past me. “It’s?—”
“Nice enough that you won’t let me look.” I kissed her. “What’s the harm? We’re making dreams come true on this trip.”
She laughed. “And you dream was, what, nearly fucking me in a hotel elevator?”
“Skip the nearly.” I grinned. “But I’m serious. Go.”
She hesitated for another second, then agreed and whisked off. I stood on the other side of the street, my back towardwherever she’d gone despite my burning curiosity. For a moment, I imagined her coming out in the dress, offering me a tie, getting married in the nearest tiny, medieval church we came across. Our friends would kill us. It would be perfect.
My phone rang, and I answered it automatically.
“Tommaso,” Lyle said. “I, uh, have a lead on that thing in Chicago.”
I straightened instantly and nodded. I’d told my men not to call me unless something huge happened, and Lyle was the least likely to overstate something huge.
“When can we move?” I asked.
“If this lead pans, you know, two weeks at the latest,” he said. “They’re having an event and need more women urgently, so they’re not, um, doing their homework.”
I grinned. Chicago was just close enough to Philly that we’d concentrated our efforts there once bastards stopped using Philly itself. It was also a slightly easier nut to crack than New York. This would be our first big bust in the town, and I really thought we could make a difference.
“Tell them we believe in the personal touch and have to see their facilities. Usual story,” I said. “And get a sense of their size. If we need to pull in bodies, I want as much time for that as possible.”
“Roger.” Lyle hung up.
I slid my phone back into my pocket, feeling pleased. Two weeks was a nice amount of time to put something together. I sent emails, organizing the first few steps, until someone tapped on my shoulder, and I whirled.
Paige stood there with a huge bag and a grin.
“You got it?” I asked, my imagination springing back to life. We’d passed a little jeweler a few blocks back. We could get wedding bands.
“It was a perfect fit.” Her smile stretched even wider. “With all my muscles, I’m even a size bigger than I was before my kidnapping.”
