The Slayer (Untamed Hearts #2) (55 page)

Alaine cupped her hand after he was done with his ring vows as more tears spilled down her cheeks. Then she turned to Katie, who handed her Chuito’s ring.

“Yours isn’t as fancy,” she whispered. “It’s not even a little fancy.”

“I hope not,” he said with a laugh.

And everyone laughed with him.

So they basically jacked up the ring part of the ceremony, but later, when Alaine would watch the video, she said that was her favorite part.

Chuito’s favorite part was when they were done performing for others, and he was able to grab Alaine and kiss her, showing her in a way far more powerful than words could ever be how much it meant to be with her in the Miami sunshine and finally be able to promise her eternity.

It was something he never thought was possible, but somehow Alaine had given that to him.

All the other bullshit seemed insignificant next to that.

* * * *

Afterward it was just another big party.

With food and drinks and a fire and music, this time by a professional, and Chuito had a really good time…without drinking.

Alaine threw her bouquet, and Miguel’s sister caught it, looking very pleased because the grab for it had been epic.

The garter was even more fun, because Alaine’s legs looked amazing, and she giggled the whole time, putting her hands over her face, and it was so endearing Chuito didn’t really give a shit who caught it.

He wasn’t shocked when he saw it was Tino. That motherfucker was very fast and extremely competitive. Tino had it for all of twenty seconds before Nova walked over with a glass of wine in his hand, because Nova had refused to participate on the off chance he actually caught it.

He yanked the blue garter away from Tino and handed it to Luis with the growl of, “That’s the last thing we need, Valentino.”

Tino just laughed and took it back from Luis the second his brother turned his back, stuffing it in his side pocket with a wink at Alaine. “It’s the only memento I’m gonna get.”

“That’s right,” Chuito agreed. “So enjoy it.”

“Oh, I will,” Tino assured both of them with one of those dazzling smiles of his that was able to somehow cover up a whole lifetime of sins.

This wasn’t a subdued wedding reception, because Italians knew how to party almost as well as Boricuas did. It was a good thing Chuito owned most of the houses on the block and all the residents were at this wedding, because the cops would’ve been called for sure, and they would’ve found a bunch of Italian hit men standing in the front yard.

Although Chuito was sure the cops weren’t an issue for Nova.

The Feds were another story.

But they hadn’t seemed to catch up with them in Miami, and Nova was in a really good mood because of it. Enough to drop down in a chair beside Chuito as he sat with Alaine, who was holding court. Women were looking at her ring, and Italians kept putting envelopes in the silk bag Tino had insisted she carry even though neither of them was even remotely Italian.

“I need one dance with your mother,” Nova said as if he expected Chuito to agree.

Chuito glared in response.

“Just for sentimental purposes.” Nova gave him a wide, devious smile that Chuito had learned was a warning more than an endearment. “I’m Italian. Weddings make me nostalgic.”

“Bullshit,” Chuito snapped at him.

“Okay, maybe not, but I need a dance. I won’t fuck her. I just want to touch her a little,” Nova amended with a groan. “Feel her against me one more time.”

“You said that out loud,” Chuito said with wide eyes. “How much have you had to drink?”

Nova laughed. “Too much. No Feds. It feels so good to just let my guard down here, and your mother—”

Chuito shook his head. “No.”

“Is easily the hottest woman at this party,” Nova went on as if Chuito hadn’t said anything, but then he leaned forward and gave Alaine the same wide, devious smile. “With the exception of the bride, of course. You know I think you’re gorgeous.” Nova’s gaze dipped to the low cut of her neckline. “That dress—”

“Go dance with my mother,” Chuito said dismissively. “One dance.”

“One,” Nova agreed as he leaped up, for once seeming more like Tino than a man who had the weight of the world on his shoulders. “Maybe two.”

“Nova—”

“Just two,” Nova promised as he walked away.

Alaine giggled next to him. “Your mother is very beautiful. Stunningly so.”

“Ay Dios mio, don’t tell her that.” Chuito groaned. “’Cause she knows it. Italians everywhere and she had to find the one who was in charge. Typical.”

“I like your mother,” Alaine said softly next to him. “Very much.”

“Yeah, I like her too,” Chuito said with a smile. “Even if she’s a magnet for trouble. Must be genetic.”

“Must be.” Alaine laughed as she leaned into him and whispered, “Dance with me.”

“Absolutely, Mrs. Garcia.” Chuito stood and held out his hand to her. “Let’s lose the bag.”

“I’m terrified to set it down,” Alaine said as Chuito pulled her to her feet. “There are a lot of envelopes in here.”

“We’ll get someone to hold it.”

They found Tino on the dance floor, and Chuito cut into the dance he was sharing with Junior’s sister to ask, “Will you hold the bag for Alaine?”

“Sure.” Tino stepped away from his dancing partner, pulling Chuito to the side as he lost some of the ready humor that came to him so easily when he needed it to. “You’re enjoying it, right? The wedding.”

“Yeah.” Chuito grinned. “Best day of my life.”

“Good,” Tino whispered as he looked down for a moment, his smile genuine. “That’s good. That makes me happy, Chu.”

Chuito squeezed his shoulder before he went back to Alaine, because Tino was still struggling with the guilt.

He pretended not to notice Tino slipping an envelope in the bag when he thought Chuito wasn’t paying attention. Then Chuito forgot about it completely when Alaine wrapped her arms around his neck and said, “I love dancing with you.”

Because he loved dancing with her too.

Chapter Forty-Eight

Alaine ditched her shoes early on in the dancing, because heels and lawn didn’t play well together. It felt so good to dance barefoot in the Florida sunshine with Chuito.

It made her feel wild and free, like for the moment nothing could touch them. She more than anyone knew that wasn’t true; two days ago her love story had nearly turned into a tragedy.

Now it felt more like a fairy tale, a loud and boisterous fairy tale where all the princes were packing heat, even at a wedding, or maybe especially because of the wedding. Even Chuito had a gun. She felt it under his tuxedo jacket, but she didn’t dwell on it.

Not when Chuito looked like he did, that expensive, tailored black tux making his chest look so broad and imposing. Alaine was almost ready to skip past the wedding party and get to the honeymoon, because dancing with him always made her hot.

It reminded her of years of teasing, and even though they had an audience, they danced like they were alone in their Garnet prison. She was soft in his arms, letting him lead and moving to the music that felt so much more appropriate here in Miami…like the final piece to the puzzle.

As strange as it was, Alaine felt like she’d found home.

The place she had been searching for when she’d packed up her stuff and moved into the little apartment above Jules’s office. At best, life was unpredictable right now. At worst it was terrifying, but she still felt like it was where she was supposed to be.

Because Chuito was here, and she would rather be in an uncertain life with him than in a stable one without him.

So she hung on for the ride, letting him lead and trusting that maybe there were happy endings for gangsters too.

“Look at that motherfucker.” Chuito turned Alaine around and pulled her against him so that her back was flush against his chest. “That’s his fourth dance.”

Alaine giggled as she spied Nova dancing with Sofia.

Nova actually wasn’t a bad dancer. Even more than a little drunk, he danced like he belonged there on the lawn in Miami.

“Why is everything so easy for him?” Alaine asked Chuito, because it seemed unfair someone that smart and that good-looking could dance too.

“’Cause we let it be,” Chuito said before he called out, “Hey, Casanova!” and for the first time, Alaine appreciated how ironically fitting his name was. When Nova looked over, Chuito held up four fingers against Alaine’s chest. “Go back to school, motherfucker. You can’t count.”

Alaine laughed again and turned around in his arms. “You’re no fun at all. Ruining his day after everything he did to put this wedding together.”

“That’s my mother,” Chuito said dismissively. “Let him find someone else to make his day better. A few more glasses of wine and he won’t notice the difference anyway.”

“Really expensive wine,” Alaine pointed out. “Did you notice that?”

“They’re Italian; everything’s really expensive with them. Spoiled.” Chuito pulled her closer to him and then wrapped an arm around her when Nova grabbed her hand. “No.”

“One dance with the bride. For tradition.” Nova gave Chuito another wide smile that made him look more like Tino than Alaine had noticed before. “Trust me, Garcia, having seen firsthand what happens to motherfuckers who mess with your woman,
she’s safe
.”

“One dance.” Chuito released her, as if he trusted that Nova knew not to go too far. “I’m serious this time.”

Alaine decided not to think about what exactly Nova saw to make Chuito so certain as she found herself swept into Nova’s arms. He was thick and muscular like Chuito and looked just as good in a suit. She twined her arms around his neck and grinned up at him.

“Why don’t you like love stories, Nova?” Alaine asked as Chuito started dancing with his mother, which she firmly believed was a good thing. She stared up at Nova, who was so handsome and charming it seemed a shame a perfectly good romance was wasted where he was concerned. “You’re not doing your name any justice.”

“I’m doing my name perfect justice,” Nova assured her. “There were no happy endings for Casanova, just a life of crime and pleasure.”

“Mmm,” Alaine hummed, because she was sure Nova knew the history better than her. “Then your mother did you a huge disservice?”

“More than you know, but we’re not gonna talk about me.” He looked down at her with an intense, contemplative expression. “Let’s talk about you instead. How are you, Alaine?”

“I’m good,” she promised as the two of them moved slower than the other dancers, which seemed okay, because if they got too into the music, Chuito might stop dancing with his mother, who looked so very happy. “Just living in the moment.”

Nova gave her a skeptical look. “Are you
really
considering a move to New York? Even knowing the risks?”

“Unless you have a complaint,” Alaine said and then asked, “Do you?”

“No, I like my associates to be happy. You make Chuito happy. So it makes me happy. I just—” He shook his head as if he was thinking about it. “I dunno. You’ve had a wild ride the past three days. I can’t see ever getting married and dragging someone like you down into this merda.”

“You told us we
had
to get married,” she reminded him.

“That was probably bullshit.” He shrugged as if bluffing was second nature to him. “I would’ve just written it off as one more thing to fucking stress about, but you’re in now, and I’ve been thinking about it. If you’ve got a perfectly good law degree, would you consider taking the New York bar?”

“Do you think I could find clients in New York?” Alaine hadn’t really thought that far ahead. “After everything’s done, you think I could set up a real practice there?”

“One client.” Nova gestured to himself. “But he pays well.”

“You want me to work for you exclusively?” she asked him in surprise. “Don’t you already have lawyers?”

“I sorta like the idea of having one I can train. One who’s in. You’re young. You’re not set in your ways. Plus, you’re someone I can really talk to. Sometimes Tino’s smarter than me. Most of the time, in all the ways that count, he’s smarter,” Nova went on as if he had been contemplating it for a while. “And you have a trustworthy face. What judge is gonna argue with a face like that? With that sweet little accent you got going on, they’ll let my boys off just ’cause you’re so nice to look at.”

“Your organization is very sexist. That statement alone proves it.” She pointed it out because she had noticed that about the underworld in general. “You think they’re gonna put up with a woman lawyer?”

“I told you I’m a progressive gangster,” he reminded her and then leaned down and whispered in her ear, “And I plan to own the organization, sweetheart.”

“You’re drunk,” she said with a laugh.

“No less true, though.” Nova gave another wide, Tino-like grin as Chuito walked up and pulled Alaine back to him. Nova didn’t complain; he just said, “Think about it.”

“I will,” she said as she wrapped her arms around Chuito’s neck.

“What was that about?” Chuito asked with a frown.

“Nova offered me a job.” She gave him a look of shock. “A real job. He wants me to be his lawyer after y’all take care of everything in New York.”

Chuito was quiet, as if considering it, but then his friend Luis walked up and asked with a smile, “Where’d you find a gringa who dances salsa like that, bro? I was watching you two earlier. Your chica can really move.”

“No,” Chuito said with a glare at his friend. “You’re not dancing with her.”

Luis arched an eyebrow at him. “You let her dance with the Italian.”

“I’ll dance with him,” Alaine said, because Luis had been there that day in the house. He’d come to their rescue without hesitating, and she appreciated it. “I’d love to dance with you, Luis.”

Chuito barely let her go, but he must’ve trusted it was just a dance.

Alaine danced two songs with Luis.

And because dancing with the bride had obviously turned into a thing, she danced one with Marcos, while Chuito danced with Katie.

Then she ended up with her arms wrapped around Tino’s neck as he leaned down and said in her ear, “You’ll tell me if he doesn’t treat you right. Promise me.”