Patrick: A Mafia Love Story by Saxton R.E. & Tunstall Kit

Author:Saxton, R.E. & Tunstall, Kit [Saxton, R.E.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Amourisa Press
Published: 2015-09-26T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

They had chosen to have a moderate-sized wedding, since he had people that must be invited. The invitations had gone out, and the ceremony was in four weeks. He had wanted desperately to accidentally forget to send Peretti an invitation, but it was a slight that wouldn’t be easily forgiven. Especially since Alexei Varnakov would be in attendance, having already RSVPed to attend in his father’s place.

Patrick was reluctant to have the other man at his wedding, not just because he loathed Peretti, but also because he wanted to keep Lauren as far away from the Perettis as possible. He was sweating bullets that the other man might recognize her maiden name. At least he had managed to have the invitations altered at the last minute to remove her father’s name. She had insisted on the invitations reading “daughter of Howard Welsh,” and he’d pretended to go along with it, but there was no way in hell he was going to have that man’s name on the invitations for the Perettis to see.

She had been understandably upset and disappointed with the final product, when the invitations had arrived without her father’s name on them. Lauren had seemed to accept easily that it was just a mistake on the printer’s part, and when she had suggested they delay the wedding by a week to allow time for reprinting, he had pointed out their deposit was nonrefundable, and most of the invitations had already been sent by his efficient assistant. He’d kissed away her disappointment, hating to cause her pain, but having good reason to shield her connection to Howard Welsh.

Assuming the matter settled, it was disconcerting to have her come bouncing happily into his study just a few days later, a new box of invitations in her hand. “What’s that?”

“Mementos for the wedding.” She passed him one. “They’ll double as placemats.”

He exhaled softly, relieved to find out they weren’t new invitations with her father’s name. The relief lasted until he opened the one she handed him, finding a collage of photos inside. At first glance, it was simply the two of them, but as he peered closer, his stomach dipped with dread to see pictures of his mother and father and himself as a younger man, his younger brothers and his two sisters, and of course, pictures scattered throughout of her with her father too.

They were small images, and he only prayed Peretti or one of his people wouldn’t pay much attention to the souvenir. After all, he could think of no good reason not to leave these at the place settings for their guests. It was a beautiful idea, a way to bring family that was gone into the wedding too, and he couldn’t destroy the pleasure in her eyes by insisting she not go ahead with the plan.

As he drew her onto his lap, his hand sliding under her skirt automatically to stroke her thigh, he consoled himself with the knowledge that Peretti wouldn’t find out about the connection, but if he did, it wouldn’t be until she was already a Murphy.

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