Savage Hearts (Queens & Monsters #3)(101)

The mattress dips with her weight. The covers slide down over my face, because she’s pulling at them.

“Good morning, Little Miss Sunshine.”

“Ew. Don’t smile like that. People will think you’re a cult leader.”

“Don’t be crabby. I need to tell you something, and I want you to be happy about it.”

“Wait, let me guess.” I inspect her disturbing megawatt smile. “There’s a huge sale at Bergdorf’s.”

Instead of answering, she lifts her left hand. On her ring finger sparkles a piece of ice that could double as a children’s skating rink.

I gasp, sitting up on my elbows. “It’s a ring!”

“It is!”

“You finally said yes!”

“I did!”

“You’re officially engaged!”

“I know! Isn’t it amazing?”

My voice choked and my eyes watering, I nod enthusiastically.

“Oh, shit,” she says, her eyes wide. “I’m such an idiot.”

“No, you’re not. I’m so h-happy for you!” Then I start to cry, because it’s my new default setting.

I’m blaming it on the hormones.

She grabs me and hugs me so hard, it leaves me breathless.

“God, my timing. I’ve always had terrible timing! You can punch me in the face if it will make you feel better.”

I consider it for a moment but toss the idea aside. I can’t be throwing swings at my kid’s auntie. Between all the warring mafia factions, we’ll have enough family strife.

“No, I’m glad you told me.” I pull away, wiping my eyes. “I’m very, very happy for you guys. Did you set a date yet?”

“The day after tomorrow.”

That makes me blink in surprise. “Oh. Wow. Carpe diem.”

“Exactly. While you were gone, I realized that life is short and full of random assholery. You have to seize the good while it’s there for the seizing.”

“Wait, you know carpe diem means seize the day right?”

“No, it’s seize the good. I know a guy who has it tattooed on his forearm. He explained it to me.”

“Uh-huh. And did this PhD have any idea he had a Latin phrase derived from Horace’s eleventh ode inked on his skin, or did he just think it was a cool Instagram meme?”

She sighs. “You could give a person a stroke.”

“No wonder people keep telling me we’re so much alike. Back to this wedding of yours. Where will it be happening?”

“The Old North Church. It’s Declan’s home parish.”

I find it interesting that the head of the Irish Mob goes to church, but I guess he probably has lots of confessing to do. “Is Dad coming?”

A cloud passes over her face. “I didn’t invite him. And before you ask why, there’s a story I need to tell you, but I’m in too good a mood to discuss it now.”

I know they haven’t been close since she was a teenager and that she and our stepmother never got along, but it sounds like things are worse than that.

Best to leave it alone until she feels like talking about it.

“Okay, next question. Nat?”

“She’ll be there.”

“With what’s-his-face?”

Sloane smiles. “As if he’d let her out of his sight.”

“I feel like I’m missing some behind-the-scenes logistics.”

“I told Declan I’m not getting married without my best friend in attendance. And Nat told Kage she would consider not castrating him for giving Mal information about Declan if he showed up to the wedding to apologize.”

She squeezes my hand. “Sorry, sweetie. I don’t mean to make it sound like Mal is the bad guy.”

I wave it off, too interested in the developing drama to care about that. “So Nat and Kage are coming to the wedding?”

“Yep.”

“And Declan is okay with Kage being there?”

She laughs. “Not even a little bit. But those are the rules the boys are working with. And it’s not like they’ve never been in a room together before.” She pauses to think. “Although, I’m pretty sure every time that’s happened, somebody’s gotten shot.”

“Wow. Should be a fun wedding.”

She seems unconcerned about the possibility of a massacre breaking out during her nuptials, saying airily, “There’ll be security up the yin-yang. Everybody will be searched and their weapons removed before going into the church. I’m sure they can manage to play nice for thirty minutes.”

I’m not sure about that at all, but I admire her confidence.

“What am I wearing? I can’t borrow another one of your outfits to wear to your wedding. That seems like it would be bad luck. The bride is supposed to wear something borrowed, not the guests.”

“I’ve got a dress ordered for you. The seamstress will be here to fit it tomorrow morning.”

That surprises me, but not too much, considering my gift from Pakhan. “It’s amazing how you mobster folk can just order up custom gowns on a moment’s notice.”

“I can’t have my maid of honor walking down the aisle in a pair of camouflage hunting pants, now can I?”