Chapter 21
chapter twenty-one
Mateo
It was going about as good as I'd expected it would. My brother was laid up on the couch beside me with an ice pack on the back of his head from his smack on the pavement. I wouldn't have wanted to be tackled by Echo if it won me a million dollars. There was a reason he was who he was to us in Delta.
An honest misunderstanding, though. Natalia's sisters were dramatic, but it wasn't entirely unlikely a schmuck would have seen a trio of women walk out of an airport with a train of designer bags and not identified them as an easy target.
We moved past it. The beer in my hand kept being replaced by another, the music was loud, and the mood lifted substantially. What I couldn’t shake was the conversation that had been interrupted between Tally and me. Had I known she was so unhappy with the way the wedding planning was playing out, I would have done something sooner, stepped in somehow. It felt like yet another thing I was falling short at.
Ophelia bounced out of the kitchen with a tray of snack foods and dips, setting them on the large coffee table in front of everyone in the living room. "I was joking to Nat over Christmastime about throwing a joint bachelorette for her wedding one day, and now here we are."
"I remember you specifically saying how awkward it would be to do it alongside Frankie after you fucked him, though," Tally recalled.
"So awkward." Frankie swooped in holding a tray of champagne glasses and kissed Ophelia’s cheek.
"Look at you now," I said, gesturing around the room at the decorations Frankie had helped set up for the weekend. "Martha fucking Stewart."
Ophelia put a hand on her hip. "He's a man of many, many talents, Mateo. You should know this."
Frankie plopped onto the couch beside me and whispered smugly, "And I know only one of us is getting laid right now."
"Cheap shot," I scoffed.
"Dish 'em and take 'em."
Tally sat on the large sofa, our wedding party between us, and my mind floated to what else had happened in the bedroom earlier. What hadn't happened at the height of it, the feeling of her thighs in my hands, the tiny shiver of her torso as I ran my lips down her neck. It was chewing at my nerves not to have her now, and I knew exactly how I wanted her. I had plans for us, and those big plans had me hiding a hard-on behind a throw pillow like a teenager.
I stared directly at her, through the murmurs of our friends and the room fell away like I was willing her bright brown eyes to catch mine. Her hair had grown so long it billowed like curtains over her shoulders and her soft tan legs folded under her body.
Look at me, Tal. Be vulnerable with me. Feed this possession.
Her throat bobbed, hand pausing with some sort of flattened pretzel halfway to her mouth as if she'd heard my plea, and through long eyelashes, her attention flitted across to me. The tension between us simmered like something lost begging to be found. Need you , I mouthed.
Natalia’s skin turned a bright shade of pink and her teeth sunk into the plush pillow of her bottom lip. The visual went straight to my gut and I was halfway to taking her back upstairs with me to finish what we’d started when Ophelia addressed the room and Tally’s gaze darted away.
"Let's go around the room and tell our favorite memory of the bride and groom," the maid-of-honor suggested.
"I've got something." Wink’s blue eyes brightened, and he swung a tattooed arm across the back of the couch behind his older brother. "Oh Captain, my captain."
"Fucking spare me," I scoffed out with a laugh. The boys all replied in hoots, while Angelo looked on curiously and with reverence, like he couldn't wait to hear it. Unfortunately the call sign stemmed from something totally unheroic.
"I think it's time we disclosed how you got that nickname." Wink smiled brightly.
"It’s because I'm always in charge," I explained.
"That's a lie," Tally said pointedly. "Don't get me started."
I stuck my tongue in my cheek. She was bold with an audience, but I loved that about her. "I'll deal with you later, princess."
"Sam, continue." Ophelia held out an invisible microphone for him.
"Captain Morgan," Wink elaborated. "Mateo loves boats, did you know that?"
"I like pirates." I looked down, into my lap at the beer I was holding. "Pirates are fucking cool, boats are their houses, and we spent a lot of time on the ocean in Delta."
"Cap got so tossed up on rum one night he thought he was a pirate, and we were stationed in a bay on our day off where there were plenty of boats. He carried his handle of Captain Morgan straight onto a charter and tried to take over the ship."
Echo snickered, reliving a night I couldn't even remember after the fact. All I knew was I woke up with the worst hangover of my life, stinking like salt water with my ID missing.
"He didn't take the boat, by the way. The poor guy on board barely spoke any English, and with a flick sent him over the bow. Luckily nothing too crazy. We pulled him out and shook him off. He did lose the handle though."
"Swimming with the fishes." I owned up to it, taking a long swig of my beer.
"I didn't know you wanted to be a pirate, babe," Natalia cooed. "I'm sure we could make that happen."
Frankie popped open the bottle of champagne and a stream of foam tilted from the lip and splashed the floor. "A toast to Captain Duran and his lovely first mate, Tally. May all your seas remain calm, all your ships sound, and all your rum barrel-aged."
"I'll drink to that." I smiled, watching my future wife raise her glass across the couch.
Sam lit a fire in the standing pit on the deck after dinner. The girls were below in the pool, playing a game of tipsy chicken atop each other's shoulders. I was glad to see Tally seemingly back to normal with her sisters again. They always found a way to gravitate back into one another’s good graces. I didn’t hold the prenup against Bella, either. It was the way she was raised, and for all I knew her father put it in her head to begin with and she was simply following demands. At their core, her sisters were good girls. Definitely spoiled, but also insanely intelligent. It made me think Natalia might be able to tell them one day about what we did for a living and find support there.
I sat next to my brother on a bean bag and tousled his wavy brown hair. He batted my hand away, annoyed, and it sent me straight back to high school for a glimmer of a moment.
Angelo looked good—healthy, bright-eyed, strong. We were more similar now than ever before in our lives, and when I really looked at him I saw Dad, too. In the shallow smile lines around his eyes, the cleft on his chin. Aging was a mind fuck. Maybe I looked away for too long, but suddenly the image I had in my head of my parents, my brother, and even myself had softened and browned at the edges.
I put my feet up on the rail of the fire pit and felt the heat burning the soles of my shoes. “I’ve missed you, man. Catch me up on life in the Bronx. What’s new?”
“Nothing at all.” He blew out a breath and dug into his shorts pocket for a pack of cigarettes. “It’s the same as the day you left. A few more gas stations. Settino retired so Mom had to find a new butcher. Pamela got married last fall, actually.”
“Settino’s daughter? That Pamela? The one with the toe thumbs?”
“That’s the one,” he said. “I was just as shocked as you.”
“No shit.” I chewed on my thumb. “What about you, though? How’s it been with the house to yourself?”
Angelo sparked a lighter to life in front of his face. “Actually pretty lonely. I miss the constant yelling down the basement stairs to flip the laundry into the dryer. Don’t get me started on the footsteps on the ceiling when I’m hungover at eight a.m.”
I hummed out a laugh. “Now you understand. I don’t get why you don’t just move out, bro. Find a place. I know you have the money saved. It’s a game changer.”
“Soon, I won’t have a choice,” he said, reaching down to snuff out the ash from his cigarette on the stone floor. A habit he picked up working long construction hours with Dad. Our father had since quit smoking after his doctor scared him straight, but Angelo had yet to drop it.
"How's work been?" I asked.
"Slowing down," Angelo said. "Finally."
"Lucky you."
His eyebrows threaded together. "Owning a business is not all it's cracked up to be?"
"You should know. I've been spreading myself thin trying to stay upright since Pike left."
Angelo blew a plume of smoke toward the sky and turned in my direction. "Why are you doing it alone?"
"It’s complicated." I bristled, glancing over the railing to the group of women by the pool none the wiser. Pop music bumped from the speaker and they were singing together. “I’ve been putting off hiring because I want it to be someone I know, and trust. Turns out my circle is a little too small for that, so it’s been a long six months doing it all on my own.”
"I'm glad I don't have to worry about fucking up anymore." Angelo sighed in relief. "Duran when I checked something off, three more things materialized at the bottom. Our sticky note wall of clients, TechOp’s installations, my parents, my anxiety attacks, my relationship with my future wife that needed tending to.
There were so many things that needed my attention, but only one that I could actually focus on while we were in Vegas, and it was long past due.
Natalia was sprawled out on a lounger, her crown high on top of her head, a plastic cup tilted to her lips against a small smile. She watched on as the boys jumped in the water and took a turn playing chicken. Ophelia was on Pike’s shoulders wrestling with Sam mid-air while Sam was off-balance on his brother's, towering over her.
Tally's sisters bopped along in the small wake of the pool water, yelping and laughing. Everyone was perfectly distracted.
"Why don’t you get down there and join the action?" I gestured with a nod toward the backyard. “Meet you there.”
Angelo clapped his hand over my shoulder, shaking it empathetically, then slipped down the stairs to the poolside. I slid my phone out of the pocket of my shorts, keeping my eyes on Tally the entire time as I sent her a message.
Me
Go upstairs to our bedroom, and be naked when I get there.