Other threats could pop up, though. Mateo does occasionally miss stuff. It doesn’t happen a lot, but the man is not infallible, regardless of what he believes. If he doesn’t know Meg’s a threat, he can’t effectively protect Mia. As much as I hate talking to him, I guess it’s good I’m the one telling him. It would likely hurt Mia to know someone she thought of as her friend was willing to hurt her like that.
Mateo needs to know, though.
I’ll tell him Monday, after the funeral. Drop the bomb and leave, that way I don’t have to witness the fallout.
Chapter Thirty
Vince
Like every Easter Sunday since Isabella was born, this one starts with the kids getting baskets. There are five baskets now and five excited little kids tearing into them. Meg helps Roman, who is a little more into it than Dom. Mia is on her own giving Dom his basket. Mateo’s here, but he’s just watching everyone. Dom keeps reaching for the grass and trying to eat it. Since I’m pretty sure that will kill him, I step up and help Mia give him all the little presents she picked out for him.
Last night when Mia and Adrian were coloring eggs with the kids, I came to understand why he’s been dubbed her second husband. Mateo’s around, but for the most part he hung back with Rafe and let Adrian do the heavy lifting with the kids and Mia. She seemed accustomed to it and not overly bothered, but this morning Adrian is doing Easter with his own kids, so she’s short a husband.
When Mateo realizes I’m filling the void he left, he reluctantly leaves his new best friend Rafe and comes over to replace me.
“I’ve got it from here,” he tells me.
“You sure?” I shoot back. “You can stay over in the bachelor section with your buddy Rafe and I’ll pull daddy duty. Doesn’t bother me—especially considering, you know, I am his daddy.”
“Don’t be bitter, Vince. It’s not becoming.”
“When did you and Rafe get so tight, anyway? Remember last year when you guys hated each other’s guts?”
“That’s a slight exaggeration,” Mateo replies. “We disliked each other’s guts.”
“Now he comes to Easter dinner?”
“He was coming for Ben’s funeral tomorrow anyway. We have business to discuss. It doesn’t concern you—like everything else that happens in this family.”
Mia shoots us both withering looks, then reaches into Dom’s basket, shaking off Easter grass and showing him a new book with a bunny finger puppet attached. She sticks her finger in and wiggles it. “Look at this. Isn’t that so cool?”
“Now you have business,” I say, nodding. “You just can’t stop, can you? I bring Mia to the one place you can’t come because everyone fucking hates you, now you have business there.”
Mateo’s lips curve up with mild amusement. “Well, you took my best diplomat into the lair of the beast. I wouldn’t have sent her myself, but since you did, why not rake in the benefits?”
“You’re an asshole.”
Mia looks over at us. “Can you two bicker somewhere else? We’re trying to enjoy Easter.”
Mateo and I exchange dirty looks, but I don’t want to fuck up Dom’s first Easter, so I retreat and head back to sit beside Carly and watch.
Carly takes my hand and I lean in to mutter, “I hate him so much.”
“Me too,” she agrees, vehemently. “He’s the worst.”
Laurel leans into our huddle, popping a jelly bean in her mouth. “I don’t. I love Mateo’s carefully selected claque. Staying at this house is like going on a cruise. There’s a show every hour, someone else cooks all my food, I’m living in luxury, and the bonus of a bronzed god in my bed does not hurt one bit.”
Carly cuts Laurel a look of disapproval. “It’s not a one night stand if it lasts two nights.”
“I’m sincerely hoping we go for three. What would that be?”
“A fling.”
Laurel nods. “A fling, then. An Easter fling. Is that a thing?”
“No, because people usually spend Easter with their families and family members generally do not have sex with one another,” Carly responds.
I nod my agreement. “They only have sex with one another’s spouses, apparently.”
Laurel shakes her head, sitting back. “I love it. I love your family. You’re all so crazy.”
“See?” Carly swats my arm. “They’re corrupting her.”
“They corrupt everybody,” I state.
Laurel sits forward, reaching over and poking me in the arm. “Who’s that?”
“Who’s who?” I look in the direction she nodded, but there are too many people, I’m not sure which one she’s referring to.
“The chick potentially trying to horn in on my Easter fling. Are they related?”
I glance across at Rafe and see him leaning back, smiling up at something Meg says.
“That’s Meg. Nope, she and Rafe are not related.”
Laurel narrows her eyes. “I have that man reserved for the night, bitch. Keep walking.”