Page 91 of Newly Tied

“Great men are not born great, they grow great,” Lang told him.

“What?”

Instant scowl from him. “Are you kidding? I’m giving you sage advice and you don’t know what that’s from?”

“It’s from The Godfather,” someone said behind us, and when I turned, there was a beautiful woman there with long, glossy black hair and big dark-brown eyes. “Which is full of wonderful advice, it’s true, but really, we’re melting. Ring the bell.”

After he pressed the doorbell, I smiled at her. “Most people don’t remember the lesser-known lines,” I praised her.

“Well, this one,” she said, tipping her head toward the guy behind her, who looked a lot like Chris Hemsworth when he was playing Thor, “loves that movie. I’ve seen it too many times.”

“It can never be too many times,” Lang offered, looking at the thunder god.

“No argument,” the guy said, grinning back.

“Hey,” Ian said happily as he opened the door. “Two of my favorite people and some other guys are standing in front of my house.”

“No,” she corrected him. “That one has a great bottle of tequila, this one has pizza from Pistores, and this gorgeous man has my favorite chianti, so let us in.”

Ian put up his hands in defeat, and I realized I really liked her—not to mention, she’d noticed that my boyfriend was breathtaking. Not that her husband—the diamond ring on her finger was not small—was not a stunning specimen himself.

Inside it was packed, and Miro came to greet us, thanked us for the pizza, and took it from us to the kitchen.

“Hey,” Eli Kohn greeted me and Lang, not Pazzi, letting him walk by without even a begrudging hello. They were still not over the stapler incident. “You brought pizza.”

“People are always hungry.” Lang grinned as we were joined by Kohn’s fiancé, Celso Harrington, a ballet dancer who was a big deal at the CBC. I knew all that because of Talia, who worshipped him and had nearly passed out when I told her we worked with the man’s partner. She’d be thrilled he was there tonight, which I told him.

“Oh, I can’t wait to meet her,” he said, then bit his bottom lip.

“What’s wrong?” Lang asked him.

“I’m starving,” Celso disclosed. “And everything is⁠—”

“We brought two veggie pies,” I told him. “It’s there, go get it.”

“Thank you,” he said happily and bolted away.

“Thanks,” Kohn said. “Thought we’d need to run out and bring something back. Miro’s usually great about that, but Ian did all the ordering this time, forgetting that some of us can’t have bacon and others no meat at all.”

“Well, you should get some too,” Lang told him, “because I don’t know what it is, but those veggie pies smell amazing when you open the lid. People forget they’re eating artichoke hearts when the spices hit them.”

He left us, taking the chianti with him, and we were standing in a sea of people, all loud, all happy to see one another, and I realized I was somehow feeling quite vulnerable.

“Your face,” Lang said softly, leaning in close. “This is a little hard for you because of us, isn’t it?”

“Us?”

“Yeah. We’re a new thing, and you had to literally and figuratively strip down in front of me, and then, before you put your usual armor back on, we had to come over here.”

“Yeah, but it was also new this afternoon when we went to see your mother.”

“That’s different. You know the family, and more than that, you know her. She stays by your side…” His brows furrowed. “You know what, Talia’s right. My mother does like you best.”

I chuckled, and he slipped a hand around the side of my neck and pulled me close, his lips on mine for long moments before tucking me against him.

“Oh good,” Redeker said as he joined us, drinking an Old Fashioned. “I’m glad that got off the ground.”

“What?” I asked him.