Step Bride: A Bad Boy Mob Roman(75)

I nodded, but inwardly I was glowing with pride. Richie wasn’t a weak kid, exactly, but it was about time he stood up for himself. He always had his nose in a videogame or a book, and I was worried that the son of one of Philly’s most notorious Mob bosses was going to grow up a target. He needed to learn to defend himself sooner rather than later.

“Of course not, Miss Boucher.”

“So you’ll talk to him?”

“Yeah, definitely. I’ll talk to him.”

She smiled. “Thanks, Liam.”

“Any time, Miss Boucher.”

She paused, looking me in the eye. “Call me Ellie.”

“Okay, Ellie.”

She glanced over at Richie and then back at me, a thoughtful look on her face.

“Can I ask you something else, Liam?”

I shrugged. “Go ahead.”

“I was told by the administrators that Richie’s home life is a little different, and that you’d be the one taking care of him, but I wasn’t told why.”

She looked at me, her face so earnest and sexy, and I almost wanted to tell her the whole truth. I wanted to tell her that my little brother’s mom was a pill-addicted whore who could barely take care of herself, left alone take care of Richie. I wanted to tell her that Richie’s dad was one of the most dangerous bosses in the whole Irish Mob, and that I was both older brother and protector. That I walked the path of the Right People, hoping Richie never would have to.

Instead, I settled for a partial truth.

“Richie’s dad passed two years ago, and his mom’s going through some stuff. So I’ve been helping out.”

She nodded. “That’s really good of you.”

“It’s what you do for family.”

“Well,” she said, smiling. I had the urge to grab her by the hips and find out how she tasted, but that might not be appropriate to do outside an elementary school. “I’ll let you get going, Liam.”

“Sure, and I’m sorry about the fight.”

“Just make sure you talk to him.”

I nodded. She smiled again and walked off, and I stared at her ass as she picked her way through the crowd, greeting parents and waving to kids. I shook my head softly, laughing to myself.

Of course Richie’s teacher would be a knockout.

I looked over at the kid and waved to him. He glanced up from his game, stood, and walked over. He fell into step with me as we headed down the block, walking back toward his mom’s house.

“Your teacher told me you got into a fight,” I said after a short silence.

“Yeah,” he said.

“What happened?”

“He called mom a whore, so I punched him.”

I stifled a laugh. “Kid, you can’t do that in class.”

He looked up at me. “You say I need to defend myself and my family.”

“Yeah, and you did the right thing. But don’t do it at school anymore.”

He shrugged and went back to playing his game. I looked out over the block, smiling to myself, imagining quiet Richie punching some asshole kid in the nose for insulting his pill-head mom.

Richie may have been a pain in the ass, but I was proud of the little shit.

I patted him on the back of the head, and he swatted at my hand, annoyed. I smiled, and we walked slowly together back toward his mom’s house.

The blood still felt like it was caked underneath my fingernails, but it wasn’t so bad. I could handle it. I would have to handle it, for my sake, for Richie’s sake, and even for his mom’s sake.

I had shit to take care of.





Chapter Two: Ellie


I was exhausted. I never thought I’d work with fourth graders, let alone fourth graders at an inner city public school. But there I was, day in and day out, and I couldn’t have been happier.

Life wasn’t perfect, but it was pretty close. I loved teaching, loved going to work every day, and loved my neighborhood. I had a great dog named Petey and a perfect best friend. No boyfriend, though. No real prospects, either. My job wasn’t exactly conducive to meeting new men, unless you considered the dads of my students.

There was one guy I was interested in, but it would never happen. He was the older brother of one of my students and was more or less the kid’s caretaker. He was gruff and sexy, all ripped muscles and cocky smiles, but it wouldn’t have been appropriate. Plus, there were rumors about him, rumors I didn’t want to get involved with.

Still, the way he looked at me. It was hard not to fantasize about him, at least a little bit. I had never met another guy remotely like him.

The day was warm, only a few weeks into the school year, and I felt good walking back to my apartment. That was another amazing perk: easy commute. I passed by Sarcone’s bakery, the smell of fresh bread overwhelming the sidewalk, and I breathed it deep. I moved south, away from the school, and turned right at the corner ahead.