Soaring (9781311625663)

by Ashley, Kristen

  So Josie was right.

  Shit.

  And they’d “yammered on” about me?

  That felt great.

  “Did you consider explaining that to me?” I asked hesitantly.

  He threw both hands out in a gesture of frustration.

  “Amy, I’ve been dealin’ with all this shit for you and the fact that once I tell my kids we’re loaded, Cill’s gonna want me to build him his own personal paintball arena. And hangin’ with your girl and you, suddenly my girl is into clothes and decorating. She’s linin’ up babysitting jobs to feed that need. She found some print online that she wants for her wall that she has to have in her room and that shit costs a hundred and fifty dollars. She knows I got cake, no tellin’ now what she’s gonna want.”

  I found that funny and wonderful news. Mickey having a daughter who liked clothes and expensive pictures for her wall were much better problems than Mickey with a daughter who had to play mother to his son because her mother was a drunk at the same time she’s bullied at school.

  I didn’t share that.

  I asked, “So it was just that your mind was on other things?”

  “Yeah,” he answered tersely. “All that and the conversation I’d have to have with my kids about leavin’ their home and the hit it would be about lettin’ that place go. Not to mention, me talkin’ you into lettin’ your kids hang with their dad so when I worked out my notice with Ralph and before my crew got started on their new jobs, I could give the kids to Rhiannon and take you to the Keys so I’d get a shot at you bein’ in a bikini when I asked you to marry me.”

  I took a step back.

  His scowl grew dark as it snapped to my feet.

  It a flash, it snapped back to me.

  “Now what?” he clipped.

  “You’ve had a lot on your mind,” I noted.

  “Uh…yeah,” he replied sarcastically.

  “Why didn’t you share any of it with me?” I asked.

  “Like you shared that with me?” He again threw out a hand to the paper from Hillingham.

  “Mickey, as dire as it sounded, it didn’t mean anything.”

  “Well, you’re fuckin’ tidy,” he shot back strangely. “Had shit to put away in your bathroom and so it wouldn’t crawl up your ass I fucked that up, I opened a drawer, saw that, figured you were hidin’ it from a variety of people, one of them me. And it bein’ worthy of hidin’, I couldn’t know it didn’t mean anything.”

  “Well it doesn’t, but you could have shared you found it before you went off and took your inheritance,” I returned. “And in so doing, got stuck in your head about a lot of stuff that was clearly weighing on you that you didn’t share with me.”

  “Fucks with the grand announcement I wanted to lay on you when I got it sorted and to a place I could tell you I could take care of you.”

  That was sweet but I felt it necessary to reiterate, “You were already taking care of me.”

  “In the way you’re used to, Amy,” he returned heatedly.

  “Yes, to repeat, you’re already taking care of me in the way I’m used to, Mickey. The only way I need it to be.”

  “Right, so that shit happens,” again with flipping his hand to the letter, “and you got a wild hair to buy a Rover and you gotta wait to save for it, if you can get it at all, rather than headin’ out and buyin’ it with cash, that’s not gonna bother you?”

  God, why was he not getting this?

  “Mickey, I love you!” I was now yelling.

  “And I love you,” he ground out. “Since that’s the case, I want you to have it all.”

  I threw up my hands. “I have all I need.”

  “I want you to have,” he planted his hands on his hips and leaned toward me ominously, “it all.”

  “Why?” I asked shrilly. “When I have everything I need.”

  “Because you’re worth it.”

  I snapped my mouth shut.

  Do what I gotta do.

  Oh my God.

  Because you’re worth it.

  Oh. My. God.

  “No comeback?” he taunted.

  “I love you,” I whispered.

  “I know that,” he returned. “That all you got?”

  “No,” I replied. “That’s it. Just I love you.”

  Mickey shut his mouth.

  I stared at him and it was a surprise when I felt the tear slide down my cheek.

  “All my life,” I whispered, “I was the girl who everyone thought had everything or could get it. But the only thing I ever wanted was a man like you. You’re the best man I’ve ever met, Mickey Donovan.” I felt another tear and the words trembled when I finished, “And you’re mine.”

  “Get the fuck over here, Amy.”

  I didn’t hesitate an instant.

  I ran into his arms.

  I held him tight and burrowed in, pressing my cheek to his chest as I felt more tears trailing down my face.

  He moved to cup a hand on the side of my head and whispered, “Baby, think I made it clear I want a kiss and not sure that’s gonna work with you tryin’ to fuse your face to my chest.”

  Immediately, I tipped my head back, got up on my toes and moved my own hands so I could clamp them on either side of his head and pull him down to me.

  Our mouths met and we kissed, at first hard and heated, but since it went on for a long time, it shifted to soft and sweet.

  When Mickey finally broke the kiss, I slowly opened my eyes and looked into his beautiful ones, seeing at the surface, and all the way down deep, the love he had for me.

  It went on forever.

  “So now that you’re loaded, this means I get to go whole hog on birthdays too,” I declared.

  I watched Mickey blink those beautiful eyes.

  This was right before his arms convulsed around me and he burst out laughing.

  He kept his arms tight and continued to laugh even as he said, “Now that stupid shit is done, if you can get over any concern you might have at the starving nations of the world needing tea, you can toss that crap, get your shit and get your ass over to my house. The kids miss you.”

  Stupid shit?

  Starving nations needing tea?

  I swallowed the quick retort that was on the tip of my tongue.

  Not because he didn’t deserve it.

  But because he loved me. He wasn’t breaking up with me. He took his inheritance for me.

  And his kids missed me.

  So I rolled up on my toes again, touched my mouth to his and broke free of his arms so I could toss the tea and get my shit.

  This, I did.

  Then we went over to Mickey’s.

  Epilogue

  Buckle Up, Baby

  “I’m going.”

  “No, I’m going.”

  “Oh for goodness sakes, I’m going.”

  Mickey and I were bickering about who was going to pick Ash up from her date with Kellan.

  Rhiannon had come around for the aftermath girlie discussion, which was also why Pippa was there with me.

  Auden and Cillian were virtually attempting to kill unknown kids somewhere else on the planet on some online game they were playing on the Xbox in Mickey’s family room. And from their shouts, they were succeeding.

  Mickey wanted to pick his daughter up in order to give her date the evil eye.

  I was not about to subject Aisling to that.

  Rhiannon, who already had her coat and was at the door, agreed with me.

  “I’ll be back in twenty minutes,” she declared and before Mickey could reply, she walked out.

  “I hope he kisses her,” Pippa said dreamily.

  I felt a wall of flame come from Mickey.

  “Pip!” I snapped, looking to her to see she was gazing as dreamily as her voice at the door, which was when I felt Mickey’s pain for Pippa was going to be next.

  She looked to me. “What?”

  “Gross! Kissing Ash!” Cillian shouted, showing that clearly the loud explosions co
ming from the TV weren’t drowning out our conversation.

  Or he was listening.

  “Not gross, dude. She’s cute,” Auden replied.

  Mickey turned menacing eyes to me.

  “Auden doesn’t lie, honey,” I said gently.

  He stormed off and not long after he disappeared down the hall I heard the fridge open and close then the sliding glass door open and close.

  He was drinking beer and brooding about his daughter becoming a woman.

  I grinned.

  “He’s hot when he’s all dad-who-doesn’t-want-his-daughter-dating,” Pippa observed and I looked to her to see her gaze aimed at the hall.

  She was right.

  She looked to me and grinned. “He’s a total score, Mom. All the girls at school say it. They even get in heated debates about who’s the hottest dad. Amber Spear’s or Aisling Donovan’s.”

  “Obviously, it’s Aisling Donovan,” I stated haughtily.

  “Totally,” she agreed, still grinning.

  My eyes drifted back to the hall as I mumbled, “Maybe I should go to him.”

  “Maybe you should let him get used to it,” Pippa advised, shifting up to sit on her knees on Mickey’s couch in his front living room. “He’s gonna have to. Kellan is into Ash big time. They’re both movie freaks. She knows all about boxing. They watch the same TV shows. For high school, all that is serious. They sit with us at lunch but they’re totally into each other and never stop talking.”

  The idea of Ash never stopping talking was one I couldn’t wrap my head around.

  But I loved that she found a boy she could open up to.

  “Anyway, I want some ice cream. Do you think Mickey would mind if I had some ice cream?” she asked.

  “No, kiddo. Just ask to see if the boys want some too.”

  “Okay, Mom,” she replied, got up and bumped into me playfully as she passed me.

  I watched her disappear in the hall and heard her talking to the boys about ice cream and even heard her opening the sliding glass door to make her request for ice cream officially of Mickey. When it was granted, I also heard her asking him if he wanted some too.

  When I heard the door close again, I wandered into the hall but stopped at the baby picture of my guy.

  I stared at it wondering if his parents knew what a remarkable man he would become.

  I moved away from it knowing from experience with Auden and Pippa that they absolutely did.

  Five minutes later, the sliding glass door opened and I looked from helping Pip scoop ice cream to the door.

  Mickey was about to step in when, eyes never leaving the TV, Cill called, “Get this, Dad! If Ash marries Kellan we’ll have a Kellan and Cillian in the family. Isn’t that hilarious?”

  Mickey didn’t answer. He swung right back out the door and slid it shut.

  I would have made it if I hadn’t heard Pippa snort.

  Since she snorted, I didn’t make it.

  So I had to dash to the dining room so Mickey wouldn’t hear me burst out laughing.

  * * * * *

  “Hey, Amy?”

  I was wandering down the hall to Mickey’s room where he had moved his brooding after the aftermath girlie discussion took epic proportions and lasted hours (and may have diverted onto other paths, like online shopping on Ash’s tablet).

  Auden and Cillian were still attempting to kill people in the family room.

  Rhiannon was gone.

  As far as I knew, Pippa was still ensconced in Ash’s bedroom, carrying on the aftermath girlie discussion the two moms couldn’t hear.

  Now, just Aisling’s head was out her door and she was looking at me.

  “Yeah, blossom?”

  “Dogfight,” she whispered then grinned a small, sweet grin. “I win.”

  After delivering that, she closed the door.

  Needless to say, the date went great.

  Mickey was in his bedroom brooding.

  I was headed that way smiling.

  * * * * *

  I winced even as Auden flipped his opponent to his back.

  “Good, bud! Stay at him!” Mickey, sitting beside me, shouted.

  “Don’t let up!” Cillian, sitting beside Mickey, yelled.

  “Ash and me are gonna go get some sodas,” Pippa, sitting next to me, announced.

  She and Ash got up from the bleachers as I looked to them then, with a mother’s sense, turned my head the other way and looked across to the end of the bleachers in the gymnasium.

  Kellan was loitering there, eyes to Aisling.

  Pippa was Ash’s cover.

  They moved in front of us, but Ash abruptly stopped when Mickey’s hand darted out and caught her wrist.

  I looked to him to see his head tipped back, eyes on his girl.

  “Go to your boy but I don’t lose sight of you, hear me?”

  “All right, Dad,” she huffed resignedly and irritably.

  He let her go.

  Pip aimed an amused grin at me.

  I returned it.

  The girls took off.

  I jumped when Mickey shouted, “That’s it! You got it!” and the rest of our side started clapping.

  I looked to my son on the mat just as the referee slapped his hand down and yelled, “Pin!”

  Auden took his feet to more applause and Cillian jumping up and down on our bleacher, yelling “Right on! Auden rules!”

  At this moment of victory for my son, I felt the hairs stand on end at the back of my neck. I turned my head just in time to catch Conrad looking away from me.

  He was alone. No Martine. No Tammy.

  A good choice.

  It was sad but it was his lonely bleacher he’d made for himself.

  I turned to Mickey who was grinning at the mat and clapping.

  “You do know you’re going to have to back off this Ash and Kellan thing,” I advised.

  He stopped clapping and grinning and looked to me.

  “She’s fifteen, she gets more freedom. She’s fourteen, she does not.”

  “She’s fifteen next month,” I told him something he knew better than me.

  “Then she doesn’t have long to wait,” he retorted and looked away, toward the boys in their clutch patting Auden on the back.

  He took it then his eyes went to his dad. After that, they came to me.

  I gave him a thumb’s up and some silent clapping.

  He shook his head and rolled his eyes but did it grinning.

  Then he started pulling on his track suit.

  “Look at those mooks,” Cillian stated disgustedly, staring at the two boys now wrestling on the mat. “Auden is the best…ever.”

  Mickey slid an arm along my waist and kept it there.

  I endured the bone-crushing boredom of watching another bunch of boys—these I didn’t know and love—wrestle, doing this fortified by Mickey’s arm around me.

  Then, thankfully, it was over and we all went home.

  * * * * *

  I knocked on the door to the locker room.

  It flew open and I found myself flying in because Mickey’s hand latched onto my wrist and he pulled me in.

  He looked out the door he had his other hand on.

  “Kids in their seats?” he asked the hallway.

  “Yes, Mickey,” I breathed.

  He slammed the door, locked it and shoved me against the cinderblock wall.

  Then, in his boxing trunks and shoes, upper body bare and still slicked with sweat, he dropped to his knees in front of me.

  “Mickey,” I panted.

  His hands taped from the fight he just lost to Jake, he pushed up my pencil skirt.

  “Are you okay?” I asked, noting (in what I had to admit was a distracted way) the red welling on his cheek.

  He didn’t answer.

  He ripped down my panties.

  I sucked in a breath.

  He tipped his head back, sliding a hand up the side of my high-heeled Jimmy Choo boot.

  “Like these boot
s, baby,” he whispered.

  “I…good,” I mumbled.

  He slid his hand back down, grasped my ankle, tossed it over his sweat-glistened shoulder and dove right in.

  My head hit cinderblock and I buried my hands in his hair.

  He ate me, hungry, voracious, no mercy until I came in his mouth (and again I had to admit, this didn’t take long).

  Still soaring, he was up, I was up, and he was fucking me against cinderblock.

  I came again while he was kissing me, moaning into his mouth, tasting me and Mickey.

  He followed me while I was kissing him, groaning into my mouth, tasting only me.

  When he was done, he stayed buried inside me, shoved his face in my neck and held me against the wall.

  I stroked his hair and his back and stared unseeing at the locker room.

  “I love fight night,” I whispered.

  Mickey pulled his face out of my neck and looked at me.

  Grinning.

  * * * * *

  “Babe.”

  “This is not happening.”

  “Amy.”

  “No,” I snapped, pacing my bedroom and sliding my hand on the display of my phone.

  I found what I wanted, tapped it and put the phone to my ear.

  “Amy, this is not a good idea,” Mickey growled. “Shit like this, you don’t get involved.”

  I glared at him just as Lawrie said in my ear, “Hey, MeeMee.”

  “You’re dating someone who isn’t Robin?” I snapped.

  He didn’t reply for a loaded moment before he asked, “How did you find out?”

  “We have mutual friends, Lawrie, and I’ll add one of them is Robin.”

  “She heard about Tara?” he asked, sounding concerned.

  “Tara?’ I asked. “Tara?” I demanded peevishly.

  “Did Robin hear about it?” he clipped.

  “No.” I tossed a hand to the laptop on my nightstand that he couldn’t see. “I just read an email from Melly.”

  Perhaps it was my fevered mind but I could swear I heard a sigh of relief before he told me, “Sweetheart, I can’t date your best friend.”