Gangster Moll (Gun Moll #2)

“That good, huh?”


“Buttercream frosting is my absolute favorite.”

“Well eat up, doll. We’ve got eight layers to eat through.”

“No way. I’ll be as big as a house.”

Mac opened his mouth to say something, but before he could a loud chiming interrupted him.

“Excuse me. May I have your attention please?”

Mac’s best man, Bobby stood up in the middle of the ballroom floor, a glass in his hand.

“Thank you,” he continued once the room became quiet. “I almost can’t believe it. Mac finally found someone crazy enough to put up with his arrogant ass.”

The room erupted into laughter and Mac pointed a finger at Bobby, a mock scowl on his face.

“No, but seriously, I’ve known Mac since we were kids and he’s a good man. I’m glad that he’s finally found someone to share his life with. Melina, I hope you know what you’re getting yourself into. You’re in for a wild ride. Saluti.”

Bobby raised his glass and around them all the others did the same.

“All right. Now let’s party,” Bobby said.

He made a motion toward the DJ and the sounds of music filled the air.

“It’s time for us to wow the crowd, Melina.”

As Mac led her to the dance floor, Melina smiled as the song she picked for their dance began to play. Tears blurred in her eyes. Ribbon in the Sky by Stevie Wonder. It had been her parents’ wedding song.

Kissing her forehead, he pulled her close and they danced as Stevie sang. This was a glimpse of heaven. A promise of the happiness that had finally found its way to her.

“I love you,” she whispered near his ear.

“And I love you. Now and forever.”





Bobby slapped Mac hard on the back as he passed him a shot of whiskey with his other hand.

“You know I don’t like to drink,” Mac said, although he took the shot from his friend.

Bobby shrugged, and tossed his own shot back. “Maybe so, but this is a night to be celebrated. The least you could do is do so with a drink or two.”

Mac passed Bobby a look. “Or enough to get me hammered?”

“Or that.”

Knowing he wouldn’t get anywhere arguing with his friend, Mac tipped back the shot and let the burning liquor slide down his throat. As soon as a server walked past their spot, Mac got rid of the empty shot glass as to discourage Bobby from demanding Mac have another round.

He had plans for the evening.

Plans for Melina.

Those plans did not include having whiskey dick.

Leaning back against the fountain, Mac found his girl out on the floor, dancing with guests. She radiated happiness—pure joy.

His wife.

That word felt almost surreal.

Almost.

Except it wasn’t, because Mac had been waiting for this day from the very moment he knew that he loved Melina. There was no one else for him—just her.

“You know,” Bobby started to say, grinning in that sly way of his, “what I said earlier was true.”

“What’s that?”

“Never thought I would see the day Mac Maccari settled down and married a woman.”

Mac laughed. “It just took the right woman, man.”

Bobby nodded, his gaze roaming over the crowd of guests, but he didn’t reply. Mac didn’t really need him to, as his longtime, childhood friend was not of the same mentality Mac was where women were concerned. Bobby enjoyed the game of women—he liked females that could play him as well or better than he played them.

It was all about the chase.

And once Bobby caught a girl?

His fun was over—he moved on.

Mac didn’t begrudge his friend’s ways, as far as that went. Bobby never strung a woman along; he was upfront with his motives. A man had to respect that—Mac did, simple as that.

“You’ll be good for the next week, yeah?” Mac asked.

Bobby was reaching for a glass of wine off a server’s tray as she passed. “I’ll handle your crew while you’re gone on your honeymoon.”

“Good.”

Because as much as Luca assured that another Capo could handle Mac’s men for the week, he didn’t trust a fucking soul. As it were, Mac had to work twice as hard because of his age and newness to the family just to get any sort of goddamn respect from the other Capos.

Especially ones like Anthony Corelli.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear …

The Capo in question was making a beeline for Mac from across the room, the man’s dark eyes looking like there was something on his mind.

Mac knew he should probably chat with the man.

It was never good to leave bad blood to sour.

God knew he and Anthony didn’t see eye to eye on a lot of things.

“It’s my wedding,” Mac said more to himself than to Bobby.

Bobby was listening, of course. He was a good friend in that way.

“Yeah,” his friend said. “It’s your day, man.”

“No business on my day, right?”

Bobby finally caught sight of the approaching Capo, and sighed. “He’s a fucking asshole.”

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