Page 77 of Mafia Captor

I can’t wait to feel the cold paint on my naked skin. “Of course, we are. I already know where I’m going to hang it. Over our bed.”

Tess comes up, tugging Rockland behind her. “Oh my God, Ashely! Body painting art? Seriously? You’re a genius!”

Rockland rubs a hand along his forehead in relief. “Thank God you two finally hooked up. You have no idea how much of a living hell this woman has been making my life. Pacing the floors day and night every day you were locked up here, telling me how she’s never, ever gotten a single match wrong.”

Tess flashes a brilliant smile. “And I haven’t! My track record still proves perfect. Now come on, honey, the line is going to get long. I want to feel that paint on my skin.”

I have to laugh as I watch her guide him to the giant canvases. Only that feisty redhead could get Rockland to cover his naked body in paint and roll around in it.

We go into the tent, the scent of all our favorite foods wafting over to us. I want our guests full and content. For dessert, there’s a decorate your own tiny vanilla cake station, thirty shades of pastel icing ready for your use. We each make a plate, standing at a bar top table as we eat, chatting with our guests as they mingle about the tent. I’m all about casual. We exchanged our vows at the Bachman family-only ceremony, so the formal part is out of the way. There is no cutting the cake or toasts or programmed dances. This reception is a celebration of love.

Just grab your partner and have the night of your lives. As we dine, Boston shares the plans he has for the dog training facility we’re going to be building on site. I’ve already officially said farewell to G, thank goodness, with all the dogs we’re going to have here at the new facility. It was terrible, horrible, devastating. For me, anyway. You know what G did when I was saying my gut-wrenching goodbye? He hopped into Talia’s lap and purred. I was part brokenhearted, part relieved.

Talia cried happy tears when I told her he was officially hers.

Boston is taking Booker on as his assistant. There’s a light in his eyes that brings me joy. I’m so happy he’ll have a job he loves, and Booker will be staying on in the guesthouse. Booker’s been coming to me more and more for advice about girls, clothes, his hair. My heart goes all warm and fuzzy every time I get a text from him, or he pops his head into my office, saying, “Hey, Ashe, you got a minute?”

Now, Booker comes up to me, a hand on my shoulder. He plants a shy kiss on my cheek. “Welcome to the family, Ashe.”

“Thanks, sweetheart.” I pat his hand. “You look so handsome. I love that gray on you.”

“You picked it.” He scratches the back of his head, looking around the room. Probably for girls. The boy is obsessed.

I hide a laugh.

After we eat, there’s one more thing I need to show Boston. It’s been nearly impossible to keep my secret. “Come with me.”

We leave the tent, walking out to the driveway behind the garden. Under the blue-tinged light of the moon, his car is parked. His dad’s silver 1964 Aston Martin DB5.

I had his mom sign over the title to him this morning.

I walk down the side of the car, running my fingers over the smooth lines of the hood. “It’s beautiful. I can see why you wanted it so badly.”

He slips his hands in his pockets, staring at the car. “It’s not that. I mean, it is a beautiful car but…” His words choke off as he shakes his head. He can’t hide the emotion from his voice, though he tries.

He’s clearly overwhelmed.

His mother steps out of the shadows, joining us. “Boston?”

“Ma.” He turns to embrace her. The look they share, I don’t understand, but I can see the love and the pain in their eyes.

I catch her choked, whispered words. “I just miss him so much.”

“Me too. This car…”

“I know,” she says. “I wanted you to have it, but when the time was right.” She pulls away from their embrace to offer me a sweet smile. “And Ashely made it the right time. Now, you’ll have a family to share it with.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes, like he’s holding back tears. He wraps an arm around his mother’s shoulders, his other around me. “It’s the memories.”

“Tell me more.” I put my hand on his lower back. I’ve never seen him like this.

He leans his head back, opening his eyes, staring at the empty sky above him. He’s totally trying not to cry. “My dad and I, we didn’t get much time together, but every once in a while, he’d grab me on my own and take me for a ride. We’d listen to music, and he’d sing. As I got older, we’d have these long talks about life. But every ride ended the same. He’d tell me he loved me, and he couldn’t have asked for a better oldest son.” His eyes finally meet mine with a smile. “And that’s why I wanted the car.”

His mom stands on tiptoe, kissing his cheek. “I never knew where you two went when you got into that car, but I knew when you got back, you were happy.”

She steps back, wiping the tears from her eyes. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll let you two have a minute. There’s a man who’s asked me to save him a dance, and you know what, Ashely? I took a page out of your book. I’m going to take a risk and say yes.”

Boston asks, “Who is it?” There’s a protective edge to his tone.

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