I cast my gaze to Marcus, who cleaned up well. The kid wore a gray suit and tie and had brought along a date—a dancer named Cassidy, who worked for Shannon’s Shay Productions. Marcus was heading back to Florida where he was going to school, so this date might be a one-time thing, but judging from the way he looked at her, held her hand, and listened when she talked, maybe it would be more.
After all, sometimes long-distance relationships had a way of working out. When Cassidy pointed to the ladies’ room and excused herself, Marcus scanned the tables until his eyes locked with mine, then he headed in my direction.
Funny, how he’d only been in our lives for a short while, but he was definitely part of the family.
And that meant he was mine now to look out for.
94
Marcus
My oldest brother clapped me on the back. “Hey there. Seems like you’re having a good time.”
“I am. First wedding I’ve ever been to,” I said, still drinking in the opulence of the Mandalay Bay. This had never been my life. Opulent wasn’t how my father had lived.
More like average, though his bank accounts had been opulent. The trips he’d taken when I was younger were too. He’d used the money he’d claimed was an inheritance from his mother, who’d died years ago. Turned out, he was the one who’d funneled all that money to her from his illegal operations.
I’d seen him a few weeks ago in what was becoming a far too familiar pattern for me—visiting a parent behind bars. He was in custody in a detention center, awaiting trial. I’d gone to see him. Because, well, it was the right thing to do.
Years of practice made it, sadly, a little easier.
Guilt, though, made it harder, since I’d played a part in putting him there.
But that was where he belonged.
Did he forgive me for the role I’d played?
He said as much, but honestly it didn’t matter if he did. If I didn’t go to the detective, someone else would have, I’m sure. My father had made his choices long ago, and they were going to unravel on him sooner or later. That was inevitable.
I did what I had to do.
I did the right thing.
And now I was moving forward with my life.
Michael nodded toward Colin and Elle, who had moved to the dance floor. “Probably won’t be your last wedding.”
“I have a feeling there will be lots of Sloans tying the knot,” I said.
He laughed. “Count on that, my man. Count on that.”
My man.
I loved the sound of that. Loved the feel of it too. The sense of belonging in the right place with the right people.
He dropped a hand on my shoulder, his expression shifting to that of the sheepdog watching his herd. “You doing okay?” Michael asked, concern in his tone.
“As much as I can be okay,” I said softly. “You know what it’s like.”
“That I do. But you have lots of people who love you,” he said, squeezing my shoulder and bringing me in for a hug.
Briefly, I choked up, and Michael did too.
But then we separated, cleared our throats, and straightened our shoulders as we regarded the scene. All this happiness. All this love. All this moving on.
Moments like this were part of what made my strange life easier. Things like my new family. Like my stepmom, Angie, who’d had no knowledge of what my father had done those years they were together. I tried to see Angie when I could, to spend time with my little sisters, and to take care of them, knowing how hard their lives were going to be now.
School was another anchor for me.
And maybe Cassidy would be too. We’d gone out a few times, and
her life was the opposite of mine—two happily married parents. And somehow she had an excess of happiness to give.
I was lucky that she gave it to me.
“But everything else in life is good,” I said, fixing on a smile, because I wanted Michael to know I was going to be fine. “And I am kicking ass in school.”
“You get that from me,” he said, deadpan.
I scowled. “I thought Colin was the whiz kid.”
He laughed. “Yeah, just pretend it’s me though. You gotta humor me. I took a bullet to the chest.”
“You’re still milking that?”
Michael nodded. “And I will for a long, long time.”
I nodded, considering that. “Fair enough. You deserve it, man.”
We knocked fists, as Cassidy returned, sliding up next to me, lifting her chin and smiling.
I dropped a kiss to her lips. Yes, everything was going to be all right.
95
Mindy
Ah, weddings.
They were wonderful. And they were . . . complicated. Especially when Ella Fitzgerald crooned “Let’s Fall in Love.”
I watched as Sophie and Ryan moved to the dance floor, swaying, so happily in love. John inched his chair closer to mine. His bow tie was undone. He looked like a million dollars in his tux—the same one he’d worn the night he apprehended Kenny Nelson. Sophie had purchased it for him right before he’d made the arrest, he’d told me later.
But tonight wasn’t about arrests.
It was about black tie and music and relaxing with friends and family.
John was relaxed tonight. So was I. This sort of gathering is what we’d all worked hard to have—celebrations of love, of the future.
“Ten bucks says she’s making me an uncle in nine months,” he whispered.
My jaw dropped. “Did you actually just bet on your sister getting pregnant?”
His eyebrows wiggled, and he seemed to noodle on this. Then he nodded. “Indeed, I just did.”
Laughing, I scolded him. “You are terrible.”
The man who’d become my friend shrugged, then shot me a lazy, charming smile. One I’d seen more and more from him lately, since we’d spent more time together on the investigation.
I had my resources on the street, and just as I’d worked with Michael and Morris to help crack the case, I’d worked with John too, ferrying information, sharing tips, offering leads where I could.
We had the same mission, a similar drive, and every now and then, I’d had the sense that maybe we’d had the same desires.
But nothing had happened.
Perhaps that would change tonight.
After all . . . weddings.
“Well, if you are correct in your prediction, I wouldn’t be surprised,” I said, answering him. “Your sister is immensely happy, and she’ll be a terrific mother. And Ryan, well, we all know Ryan is an eager beaver.” I’d come to know Ryan well too, since we were in the same field of security. He’d changed since he met Sophie, and the doting new husband seemed primed to become a doting father.
John cast his gaze around the room. “The whole lot of them. It’s in the air.”
A flush crept across my shoulders at those words. And sparks shimmied down my spine. Did he sense what else was in the air between us, or was it a one-way street?
I’d like to know. I’d absolutely like to know.
He nodded to the dance floor. “Want to take a spin?”
My heart raced. Maybe I’d find out tonight if there really was something brewing between us.
96
Michael
Later, I joined Sanders and Becky, who were chatting with my dad’s old friends. “Retirement treating you well, old man?” I asked.
“Best thing I’ve ever done,” Sanders said.
“Glad you got to see your dream come true,” I said, and I meant it from the bottom of my heart. The man might have bent the rules, but his sins were small, and thoroughly forgivable, especially since they’d been instrumental in putting an end to so much pain and hurt in the city around us. I had learned in the last several months that the world was sometimes split into good and evil, black and white. But more often than not, people were shades of gray, like Sanders. He was still one of the good guys though. He’d genuinely loved my dad and been a good fr
iend to him, so Sanders was okay in my book.
“How is the cruise planning going?” I asked.
He beamed. “Bought the plane tickets. We’re flying to Miami in two weeks, and leaving port from there.”
“Got your sunscreen and Tommy Bahama shirts?”
“Of course. Packed ’em all already.”
Becky ruffled his hair. “We’ll be suntanned and full of daquiris when we return.”
“Excellent,” I said. “One thing though, Sanders?”
He arched a brow. “Yeah?”
“Obey the speed limit.”
“Always.” Then he nodded to Annalise. “Your dad would tell you to marry her.”
“My dad would be right.”
My attention wandered away from the two of them when a redhead in a slinky green dress and black heels winked at me from across the room. Her eyes seemed to sparkle, lighting up with mischief as she raised a finger to beckon me.
I excused myself, weaving through the crowds of friends and family, heeding the call of my woman.
“Bon soir,” she said in a sexy, low voice.
“Bon soir.”
“I missed you,” she said.
“But you’ve seen me all night.”
“True, I guess I like you a little.” She tapped her chin.
“Or maybe a lot.”
She rolled her eyes. “Fine, I love you madly, Michael Sloan.”
I smiled. I would never tire of that. “And I love you.”
She ran her hands along my chest and down to my scar. “Did you know this is one of my favorite parts of you?”
“Why is that?” I asked as I bent my head to her neck and kissed her throat, inhaling her scent.
She spread her fingers across the fabric of my shirt. “Because it says you’re alive.”
I smiled against her skin, kissing her more, soft and tender. “So alive,” I said.
She looped her arms tightly around my neck, and I kissed her fiercely.
“Mark me with your words,” she said in a breathy whisper. “Like you wanted to that night in New York.”
I’d held back then, keeping them inside. I no longer had to. I brought my lips to her throat and kissed her hard, murmuring, “I’m so in love with you.”
I traveled along her neck, kissing and nipping, each time giving voice to the words she wanted to hear, and the ones I wanted to say. They were one and the same.
“I’m so in love with you too,” she said, and soon we untangled and returned to the wedding.
She would be going back to Paris in a few days, and from there we’d schedule the next visit, because we were making our long-distance love work.
I had faith in us.
Enough faith to keep crossing an ocean for her, over and over again.
Because I believed in our love. Believed in it to the depths of my soul. And I knew, finally knew, that we were meant to be together now.
That this was our time.
This was our opportunity.
Not ten years ago.
But now.
Now is what made this great love possible.
And it was great with her. It was neither all nor nothing. It was, quite simply, everything.
Epilogue
Michael
A year or so later
With her arm linked around my elbow, I strolled with Annalise’s mother along the pathway by the fountains at the Bellagio. We stopped at the thick stone railing that surrounded the man-made lake, gazing at the placid waters and the crowds waiting for the aqua ballet.
“In about five minutes, the water show will begin,” I said to her in French.
Marie narrowed her eyes, shooting me a sharp stare. “English, young man.”
I laughed deeply, then repeated myself per her request.
“I cannot wait to see the water show,” she said slowly, answering me in English too.
“You’ll love it. It’s spectacular.”
Marie had insisted on a crash course in all things American, since she was now living here six months a year. I had bought her a condo in a nearby building, and I spent time with her a few days a week, helping her around the city and acclimating her to Las Vegas. Marie saw her daughter nearly every day, since that was the point of this arrangement. Marie’s health was improving, but she still needed assistance from her family, so I’d devised a solution.
I’d moved her to America six months a year, and Annalise stayed in my home—now ours—during those six months. We’d spend the next six months in Paris, and while there I worked remotely as much as I could, but mostly I enjoyed my days wandering around the city, eating the occasional coffee éclair and apricot tarte, and spending as much time as I could with my beautiful wife.
And in between? Sometimes we traveled together. Sometimes we traveled for work. Occasionally she’d be in Paris and I’d be in Vegas because of our busy schedules and cross-continental families. But we always came back together, and truth be told, the time apart made some things even hotter.
With the new schedule, my workload had lessened, and that was fine with everyone involved. I’d once thought I couldn’t give up work, but it turned out nearly dying changed my perspective. Work didn’t matter as much as family. I had two families now—my own and my wife’s—and I loved them both dearly. Besides, Sloan Protection Resources had Ryan at the helm, and my brother damn well knew what he was doing.
“How was your visit to Hawthorne?” Marie asked.
I didn’t answer right away. I inhaled deeply, lingering on the question. Seeing my mother was hard. It was tough. It challenged me like nothing else had. But I’d made the decision a year ago to let go of my all-or-nothing attitude toward her. I didn’t call it forgiveness. Though I understood more of why she’d made the choices she did, I could never abide by them.
I didn’t have to though. I could choose to be the man my father had raised. A man who lived a life full of love, compassion, and hope.
And that was why I’d decided to visit her, now and then. To honor the lessons my father had taught me—lessons in mercy, lessons in grace.
Today my mother had been chatty, talking about a new book she’d read, a fantasy novel about dragons and shifters. When she was through, I’d updated her on everyone, telling her about how cute Shannon’s little boy was and showing her pictures. Then I told her about Marcus. Turned out the kid was a chip off the old block. He’d kept up the long-distance relationship with the dancer, and that devotion had paid off. Cassidy had moved to Tampa recently, having landed a ballet gig there, near his college. He’d graduate with his business degree in a few years, and he was doing well.
On prior visits I had updated my mother on other news of the last year. Luke Carlton had been sentenced to life in prison for conspiracy to commit murder, as well as multiple counts of racketeering. Curtis Paul Wollinsky had received forty years on RICO charges, and TJ Nelson was likely in the big house for life too, joining Kenny, since both had been convicted on multiple counts of conspiracy to commit murder. There had been no rumblings, nor even any whispers, of Royal Sinners gang activity in a long time. And White Box had been shut down. As it should be. I’d eyed the shuttered property the other week, and had an idea for it. Something I’d need to run past my brothers and sister. I’d do that when I saw them tomorrow.
“It was a good visit,” I said to Marie, shooting her a smile as the sun dipped lower and the music began, signaling the start of the show. “It was good to have Annalise with me.”
A few minutes later, I felt Annalise’s breath on my neck, then a kiss from her lips. “Hi, handsome,” she said softly. She was freshly showered after the long drive back.
She gave her mother cheek kisses, and wedged herself between us, an arm around both of us. “My two favorite people,” she said, and then we watched the fountains at the Bellagio spray water high into the sunset sky.
“We finally made it to the Bellagio,” she leaned over and whispered to me.
“We finally made it.”
>
Later that night, after she showed me the latest pictures in the photographic book of kisses she was working on—one of her dreams she’d told me and it was coming true—we gazed out the floor-to-ceiling windows of our Las Vegas home, watching the lights of the city, one of our favorite pastimes. It was something we also loved to do from our home in Paris. Her flat had become my home as well, and was now full of pictures of the two of us.
She pressed a hand to my torso. “You’re still the sexiest guy I know, even if you don’t have a spleen.”
I laughed. “Amazing that I work without it.”
“You have all the parts that matter,” she said as she moved closer, cupping the side of my head then dropping her hand to the front of my jeans, squeezing me. She traveled up my chest and stopped at my heart. “But this one works best of all.”
“Yes. It works pretty damn well, if I do say so myself.” I set a hand on her heart. “So does yours, my love.”
And I felt in my heart, in my soul, that we were each other’s, now and always.
I felt something else too. Something I hadn’t felt for nearly two decades.
But since Annalise came back into my life, I knew peace.
In my family, in my home, in my soul.
Both outside our home and between these walls, there was peace and hope and so much love that I knew it would carry us far into happily ever after, and then some.
As we lived with love.
THE END
This series is dedicated to the memory of the innocent victims, to the children left behind, and to the hope that they find love and peace in their futures.
My Sinful Love (Sinful Men Book 4) Page 28
