Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 108926 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 545(@200wpm)___ 436(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108926 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 545(@200wpm)___ 436(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
The doorbell rang again, and Reagan glanced at it with a bit of panic before wiping the anger from her face and replacing it with the same look she used when she was little to get Brandon to sneak her extra dessert.
Her eyes welled with tears, and a big, fat droplet ran down her cheek. I rolled my eyes and suppressed another chuckle, especially when I saw the inevitable crumbling of Brandon's defenses. He’d been a killer enforcer and my right-hand man while I'd ruled the Irish mob in New York City. Then he'd taken over when I decided to focus on being a wife and a mom—though I wasn't out of the business completely. But this badass motherfucker was brought to his knees when one of our daughters cried.
“Please, Daddy?”
Brandon sighed and nodded, then put the safety on his Glock before shoving it into the back of his pants. He stepped back and gestured to the door. “Fine. It's not like he doesn't know I'm armed.”
Reagan's tears had cleared up the second Brandon gave in, and she rolled her eyes as she hurried to the front door and swung it open.
Tommy’s son, Dante, stood on the front porch, and when he spotted Reagan, his face lit up with a giant smile. “Hey, baby,” he greeted her sweetly. She stepped close and threw her arms around him, but before she could go in for a kiss, Brandon's threatening growl had them breaking apart.
Dante bravely kept his arm around Reagan and faced Brandon with a determined expression. The only giveaway that he was nervous was the way his Adam's apple moved as he swallowed hard. “Sir.” His voice was a little raspy, as though his mouth had suddenly gone dry. He swallowed again and cleared his throat. “I'd like to speak with you privately.” He turned his head to smile warmly at me. “Hello, Aunt Carly. You're welcome to join us, but Reagan tells me she already spoke with you.”
Tommy’s family was as close to us as Nic and Anna’s. We’d always been Aunt Carly and Uncle Brandon to them. I returned Dante’s smile and walked over to hug him. “She did. I'd say, 'welcome to the family,' but we're already family. That will never change.”
“We'll see,” Brandon growled.
Dante's determination returned, and he kissed Reagan's cheek before letting her go. Brandon spun on his heel and headed back to his office, expecting Dante to follow. I winked at him and whispered, “He's more bark than bite.”
Both Brandon and Dante snorted, and I shrugged. Okay, so maybe that was a bit of an exaggeration. I'd been hoping to put Dante at ease, but he'd wasn't stupid, and he'd known Brandon his whole life.
Dante squared his shoulders and marched after Brandon, leaving Reagan to cuddle up to me for strength. “He wouldn't really hurt him, right?”
“Nah, you know your Dad, honey. You'd never forgive him, and he wouldn't take that risk.”
She sighed and relaxed a little as I led her to the kitchen for the comfort of ice cream.
Brandon
“Uncle Brandon, I'm sure you know why I'm here.”
I yanked my gun from my pants and set in on the desk, in plain sight, before dropping into my brown leather chair. “I should never have let her date,” I grumbled.
Dante cocked his head to the side and studied me. He hesitated, mulling over his next words for a moment. Then he sat in the seat across from me and locked our gazes. “With all due respect, Sir. Even if Reagan and I had never been on a single date, this would still be happening. I love her more than anything and want to spend my life with her.”
I grunted in response. I wasn't happy with the idea of my baby girl leaving home and giving someone else the responsibility of her care and safety. In my eyes, she was still that four-year-old little girl with pigtails and a scraped knee who came running to me for healing kisses. But I had to face reality. Reagan was twenty-one, and the truth was, I was incredibly proud of the woman she'd grown into.
This day had been looming in my future since the moment Dante and Reagan’s cousin, Niccolo, had punched another kindergartner for trying to steal a kiss from Reagan. Now that it was here, I wasn't ready. Then again, I'd probably never be ready.
“I want to marry Reagan, and I'd like your blessing, Uncle Brandon.” His face hardened, and I was impressed with the courage he was showing. “Reagan would have a hard time if you don't approve of our union, but make no mistake, she will be my wife, with or without your consent.”
Damn. He reminded me so much of his Dad and myself that I almost smiled. When we'd found the loves of our lives, there had been nothing and no one who could have kept us apart. I knew Dante had been raised to respect women, and he'd spent his whole life watching his father worship the ground his mother walked on. He would be a great husband and father—