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“It was a sweet ride, too.” Sitting forward in her chair, she glances along the table to a relaxed Micah, then tipping her chin, she winks and sets the poor man up for punishment from the oldest. “Good with your hands, huh? And you haven’t attempted to control my clothing choices yet. I like that in a man.”
He clamps his lips shut and merely looks at Tim.
That’s it. That’s the whole conversation.
“No?” Aubs laughs. “Not even a ‘thank you for the compliment?’”
“You’ll get nothing from him,” Tim growls. “Nothing.”
“So it’s confirmed,” she sneers. “All Malones are rude?”
“Hey!” Cato protests. “I’m a lover ofallwomen. I’m never rude.”
“Sit down and shush,” Debbie chides. “Rejoin the conversation when you’re grown.”
“Dude!” Cato points at the woman, but his eyes go to Felix. “I never asked to be mothered. I didn’t agree to this!”
“I didn’t agree to be wrapped in cotton wool and shoved in the back of a Malone’s sock drawer either,” Aubs inserts. “It seems there are some people at this table who like to lord over others.”
“I don’t control anyone.” Smug, Archer lays his arm across my shoulders and revels in the fact his relationship is steady. “I just like to get married multiple times and piss people off.”
“And you’re so good at those things,” I tease.
“Thanks, babe.” He ducks in and plants a kiss in the middle of my lips. “It’s almost bedtime, and I’m kinda done hanging out with these people.” He leans his forehead against mine and grins. “Ready for bed?”
“Fantastic idea!” Aubree shoves up from her seat, snags a full bottle of wine from the table, and steps around her chair to push it back in. “It’s bad luck to spend the eve of your wedding in the same bed.”
“Wait,” Archer jolts back from me, his eyes wide with shock. “What?”
“It’s tradition.” She extends her hand and makes her way closer to Mia. “Let’s go, Moo. We have a girly sleepover to attend.”
“No, wait.” Archer explodes. “This wasn’t part of the deal.”
“Christabelle.” Aubree football-holds her wine bottle and kicks the leg of Debbie’s chair. “Fifi. We’ll take the main suite. You guys can have your sausage party elsewhere.”
“No one said anything about sausage parties!” Felix snarls. The second most powerful mafioso on the eastern seaboard growls as Aubree hitches Mia up onto her hip. “Doctor Emeri! I forbid you from?—”
“I don’t subscribe to Malone coercion any longer.” She flashes a smile for the killer whose body count far exceeds anything rational, then she comes around to me and picks Archer’s arm up off my shoulders. “Time to go.”
“Minka?” Archer twists his hand into my hair and keeps me where I am, his eyes firing with panic. His nostrils flaring, just a step or two down from enraged. “Don’t go.”
“Sorry.” I wipe the napkin over my lips and lean in to kiss him. Then pushing up to stand, his hand falling away, I reach out and take my half-full glass of wine. “Goodnight, gentlemen.”
Instantly, a collective roar from dissatisfied men plays out through the dining room. But Aubree has no fear and a point to make. And I’ve missed her, so my loyalties lie with her tonight.
Bringing my focus to Archer only, I pucker my lips and blow him a tiny, barely noticeable kiss. “I’ll see you on my wedding day.”
“I didn’t bring them here to get between us!”
“Probably shouldn’t have pushed me into the ocean today. Or lied to me about owning a boat.”
“This is a big boat, right?” Aubs starts away, her eyes swinging around the room from one wall to the next. “How much did this thing cost?”
With a tiny finger wave for my husband, I take my drink and fall into line beside Christabelle and Fifi.
“No, seriously,” Aubs presses. “Hypothetically, how much does something like this cost?”
“It’s worth one hundred thirty million dollars,” Christabelle answers. She’s one of New York City’s wealthy already, so she doesn’t ogle the finer trappings we regular members of society’s attempt to understand. “Felix turned down an offer recently.”
