Hail Mary (The Mavericks Series)

by Julianna Marley

  “Uncle Shay, Ma says I can’t shoot soda cans off the tailgate with my pop’s new gun.”

  Chuckling, Shay ruffled the boy’s hair putting him down on his feet. “Probably not a good idea. They’ll call the guards on us.”

  “That’s what Ma said too,” the boy grumbled.

  Guards? Swaying Quinn gently, she looked between Shay and his miniature.

  “Police,” Shay said, picking up on her confusion. “Nicky, this is Whitney,” he said nodding towards her. “And Quinn.”

  Looking up at her, Nicky took his time inspecting both of them. She wanted to laugh. He really was the carbon copy of his uncle. Focused and intense. Confident and charming. “You’re really pretty, lady,” he finally spoke, stepping backwards. “But I already have a girlfriend in the second grade and it’s kind of serious.”

  Blinking back at him, she looked up at Shay who couldn’t control his laughter. Great. Just what the world needed. Another Shay Cunningham.

  “Hey you.” A tall, thin woman with piercing green eyes stopped in front of them tapping Shay lightly on the arm.

  Smiling, Shay wrapped the woman into a hug. “Happy Thanksgiving.”

  Looking between both of them, she looked confused and she had a feeling that it was going to be a very popular reaction this evening.

  “Erin this is my friend, Whitney,” he said introducing them, the woman’s eyes still inspecting her. “Whitney, my sister-in-law, Erin.”

  Fidgeting with Quinn, she smiled. She probably looked like an absolute mess. Oh, this was a horrible mistake. She shouldn’t be here. She shouldn’t have come. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  “It’s nice to meet you too, Whitney.” Looking between them again, Erin’s mouth lifted up on the one side. “And who is this?”

  “Quinn,” Whitney answered quickly, adjusting Quinn’s head wrap, trying to mask her accent.

  “Ah, just what this house needs, another baby,” she smirked, looking between them again quietly. “She’s adorable. And all that hair,” she grinned, smoothing out Quinn’s dark hair. A crash coming from the other room, Erin yelled behind her, “Kieran, if I come in there and find Cassidy tied up again, you’re getting a butt whooping.”

  Turning back to them again she looked like a woman who not only spent her days yelling at young children, but one whom was also very well versed in giving a butt whooping.

  “Well welcome,” she sighed, “to the zoo.”

  Stuffing his hands inside his pockets, Shay grinned. “She hasn’t been properly prepped.”

  Raising a brow, Erin shook her head. “Bottom line. Eight kids under eight years old.”

  “And they are such gluttons for punishment,” Shay smiled nodding down at her small belly under her black t-shirt, “that they just keep going.”

  Agreeing, humor filled Erin’s fierce green eyes. “It’s true. By the way,” she said, looking up at Shay. “Meet your niece, Ruby, she’ll be here before Valentine’s Day,” she pointed to her belly. “Nicky,” Erin yelled suddenly, making Whitney jump. “Excuse me.” She rolled her eyes strolling off towards the back of the house threatening more red butts and toys in a dumpster.

  Taking a deep breath, she glanced up at Shay, an uncertainty she had never seen before settling across his face. “And how many siblings did you say you have?”

  His eyes flashed with slight humor before looking at Quinn and quickly back to her. “Just try and keep up, Sunshine.”

  Placing his hand on the small of her back, she stiffened under his innocent touch. Although, nothing about Shay was innocent. Everything he did was sinful. Deliberate. Hating how good it felt, she walked beside him taking in the magnificence of the house. Despite the sheer size, it was quite cozy. Charming traditional decorations that looked as though they had been displayed for decades filled the tables, large red candles burning steadily. Walking through the long hallway, the loud laughs inched closer mixed with holiday music and she glanced at the row of black and white photographs on the wall. She adored old photographs. Ones that were rich with both history and family. She stopped to look at one of a man dressed in a suit, a woman in a bridal gown sitting in a chair beside him and she smiled. The one beside it of a woman sitting on a curb, four small children crowded around her. And lastly a beautiful photograph of a woman holding a laundry basket on her hip. She looked tired, as if she had been working all day, but happy. A very familiar smile across her tiny face.

  “Is that your-” she asked before he walked them around the corner, a huge great room opening before her.

  Dark wood vaulted ceilings with rafters and a cast iron circular chandelier stood above them, as the loud laughing came to a noticeable break. Floor to ceiling windows lining the wall, she wasn’t sure where to look first. The breathtaking view of the mountains that stared back at her through the windows or at one of the several people now staring at her. She felt like she had just stepped into a ski resort. Or maybe a lion’s den, she wasn’t quite sure, as the sound of more children screaming in pure delight circled around the room. A small boy jumped off the couch in the middle of the room as Quinn squealed in her arms. Shay’s fingers gripped into the small of her back and she could feel him turn her closer into his side. A gesture so small that if it had been anybody else, she didn’t think she would have caught it. It was protective and instinctive. And peeking up at him, she didn’t think he had even noticed.

  “Baby boy is home!” a man’s voice boomed over the room, his accent both thick and rich as his arms lifted over his head. The rest of the room laughed while the man cut through the crowd, placing a shot glass down on a table. Grabbing Shay from the back of the neck, he cupped his arm before bringing him in for a strong hug. “Ma boy.”

  “Hi, Pops,” Shay said quietly, hugging his papa back hard. Both of them were the same height, but the similarities seemed to stop there.

  “Glad to have you home, boy.”

  Clearing his throat, Shay swiped his mouth with his thumb. “Pops, this is Whitney.”

  Grey hair running against both sides of his head, a stark difference from his jet black hair, his forehead wrinkled, drawing more attention to the fine lines on his skin. He looked like a man who had worked his entire life. And one who had worked hard. “Well hello, sweets. Pretty little thing aren’t ya?” he smiled, looking down at Quinn in her arms and back up to Shay.

  “No,” they both spewed at the same time. Awkward silence fell between them and her breathing halted. She hadn’t even considered what his family must have thought. Bringing home a lady with a baby on her hip? No. The title of Mrs. Cunningham who bared small, blonde children with an inherent ability to charm the skin off a snake was reserved for somebody else.

  “Alright then,” his father shrugged wrapping his arm around her. “Welcome to the zoo, love.”

  Why does everybody keep sayin’ that?

  “Yo, brother.” Another man reached out smacking Shay’s hand before pulling him in for a one-armed hug. He was smaller than Shay, and shorter too. His dark hair matching their father’s, thin scattered facial hair covered his face and neck. His narrow nose matched Shay’s, but not much else. “Been too damn long, mate.”

  “It has,” Shay agreed, brushing his mouth again. “Ah, Whitney, this is my brother, Finn,” Shay said, moving her into him closer. He needed to stop doing that. Stop the touching. Thoughts of what his parents and brother must have thought began swirling inside her head. She had all day and over four hundred miles to think about what to say to his family. But she hadn’t. Instead she had spent every single mile questioning her sanity, stealing glances at Shay when he wasn’t looking and contemplating just how he was going to murder her off the highway.

  “Hello, it’s nice to meet you.” Extending her hand, Finn ignored it, enveloping her into a large hug. She hadn’t expected that, but it was nice. Really nice and welcoming. And she couldn’t remember the last time someone had given her such a sincere gesture. Smiling, she adjusted Quinn’s dress as Finn rubbed h
er cheeks, earning him a giggle. “She looks like you.”

  Well that was nice to hear. She had always thought Quinn favored Adam and his family. Adam. The thought of him spiking her already accelerated heartrate. Working her lip, she tightened her grip around Quinn. She needed to relax. She was fine. Quinn was fine. And if nothing else, they were both hundreds of miles from Charleston and away from any chance of Adam popping up again.

  “Hi!” A petite woman appeared at Finn’s side, a young girl in her arms. She was small and cute and looked harmless. And tired. Really, really tired.

  “Whitney, this is my wife, Holly.” Finn beamed taking the young girl from his wife’s arms. A small barrette in her thin, bright blonde hair, the little girl looked like a baby doll. “And this is Caitlin.”

  “Hi Caitlin,” Whitney cooed, tickling the girl’s hands as they reached out for Quinn’s tiny toes.

  “Wasn’t she just born like a month ago?” Shay asked, rubbing her small head.

  “It’s been awhile, mate.” Finn looked up at Shay and she didn’t miss the heavy exchange.

  “Yo, Superstar,” the tallest man in the room chuckled, bringing Shay in for a hard hug. “Where the hell ya been?”

  “We drove,” Shay said, accepting a beer from whom she imagined was another brother.

  “Whitney, this is my brother, Cian,” he introduced her and she wondered if she needed to grab a pen and paper to write all these names down.

  “Hello Whitney, it’s nice to meet you,” Cian grinned, his voice almost as loud as their father’s. Rubbing Quinn’s hair like Shay had done all day, he was tall like Shay and shared similar eyes and tapered face. “And who’s this cutie?”

  “Quinn,” she smiled as baby girl gnawed on her fist. She knew she only had a few minutes until the wailing began.

  “Well, welcome ladies. Maeve will be glad she has another baby to help take care of.”

  “Bro,” Shay swallowed a gulp of beer, hitching his thumb over his shoulder. “Just saw Erin. You’re like the Batman of procreating.”

  Smirking, something she was beginning to believe was a Cunningham quirk, linking each of them together, Cian shook his head looking past them at Erin on the far side of the kitchen. “What can I say, she can’t control herself around me.”

  “Oh please!” Erin snickered, washing off another little girl’s hands.

  “Well, cheers to number five,” Shay shook his head clicking bottles with Cian.

  Five!

  “I’m going to start putting numbers on them when we’re all home like this, man,” Cian laughed taking a sip of his beer.

  “And how many kids are there again?” Whitney asked. Erin had mentioned the number but her head was already spinning and they seemed to be crawling out of the walls.

  “Eight,” Cian grinned. “Nine, if you count princess here.”

  “Nicky, who tried to sack us earlier,” Shay snickered before pointing to the little blonde girl with Erin, “Cassidy over there and Maeve over there with Pops.”

  A door slammed again as more kids came stomping up the stairs.

  “Caleb, Kieran, and Kellan,” he ran off as three boys near the same age rushed past them behind the sofa.

  “No fair,” a dark-haired girl in a baseball cap yelled, charging towards the boys.

  “Lena,” he chuckled. “And Caitlin over there with Holly.”

  Nicky raced past them with another Nerf gun and she heard a woman’s voice coming in from the sliding doors off the kitchen. “Dear Lord, please tell me the heavens have opened up and I’m hearing my baby boy’s voice.”

  Turning around, the smallest woman she had ever seen brushed her hair out of her face, a small apron wrapped around her tiny waist. Her face lighting up, she waved Shay over, meeting him in the middle of the kitchen. Leaning down, Shay hugged who she could only assume was his mama. Identical blonde hair and the same profile giving her away. Shaking his head as his mama spoke softly into his ear, he looked so big beside her. It was the most sincere she had ever seen Shay. And it was endearing. She never grew up with brothers, but had always heard of the special bond between a mother and a son. And it was nice to watch. Pulling back, his mama lovingly smoothed her hand over his cheek and she noticed everyone around her biting back laughter. Hearing a smack, her eyes went wide.

  “Ahhhh, shit, Ma!” Shay yelled, holding his cheek.

  “Don’t you ever stay away from this house for that long again,” she pointed up at him, her eyes narrowed on him. “Do you understand me?”

  Cian and Finn laughed out loud behind her as Erin shook her head grabbing another child off the kitchen counter. Where were all these kids coming from?

  Choosing that moment to introduce both of them, Quinn squealed, no doubt getting a kick out of Mister Superior getting served up by his own mama. Looking at her, his mama’s attention fell on them. Swallowing the lump lodged inside her throat, she remembered that this poor woman had no idea that they were coming to impose on their holiday. Resisting the urge to close the distance and give Shay a red mark on the other side of his face to match, her mouth twisted in a small smile. This was a bad idea. A really bad idea. Gosh, why did she suddenly stink at life and decision making?

  Looking back up at Shay holding the side of his face, he tipped his beer towards her. “Ma, this is Whitney. Whitney, this is Ma,” he groaned, cringing against his cheek. Her eyes darting between them, she gasped. “My friend, Whitney,” Shay corrected and his mother ignored the correction.

  “Oh my,” the woman’s thick accent filled the kitchen. Wiping her hands on her apron she made her way towards them. “Whitney,” she continued and she seemed frazzled. “Hello dear, I wasn’t aware baby bo-” she stopped herself. “Shay,” she corrected, “was bringing company.”

  Her smile straining, she prayed for a reason, any reason, to duck inside a room, bathroom, storage shed, anything. As far as awkward moments in life went, this was up there. How could he not have mentioned that he was bringing a lady and her baby home for the holidays? Was he crazy? “I am so sorry we intruded-”

  “-No,” his mama shook her head quickly, “no intrusions,” she fussed, pulling her arm deeper inside the kitchen, as more kids sped across the floor and under the kitchen table. ‘Welcome.”

  “Thank you ma’am, really.”

  “Call me Ma,” she ordered, shaking her head.

  Ma.

  That was nice.

  “And who is this precious angel,” she asked, her accent twice her size.

  “Oh,” Whitney straightened, taken aback by her warmness. Warmness from the same woman she had just watched smack her grown son across the face. “This is Quinn.”

  His mother’s eyes going round, her hands cusped over her mouth as she looked at Shay. Mumbling, he pushed the beer bottle to the side of his face. “Long fucking story.”

  Shooting him a look at his choice of words, he waved her off, retracting to the great room where she presumed he was going to lick his wounds. On top of going completely brain dead and not telling his entire family that she was coming, he also conveniently chose to forget her requests about his cussin’. She considered herself a patient person, but Shay was wearing on her and something told her that for as desperate as she had been to get out of Charleston and avoid being home alone in case Adam resurfaced again, Shay needed a distraction coming home as well.

  And that distraction was her.

  “You think The Irish are gonna pull it together in time, baby boy?”

  Looking over at his pops resting into the large chair near the fireplace, Shay kept up with him and Nicky’s Minecraft sword battle. The kid had some fast reflexes, which didn’t surprise him. The kid was his spawn. He had heard once that kids can sometimes take after their extended families more than their parents, but he hadn’t believed that. Not until Nicky was thrown into his lap seven years ago and he was dubbed a Godfather. Of course, he was the last person to teach the kid anything godly.

  “Nah,” he said swiping Nicky�
�s legs before getting nicked on the side of the head. “Clemson’s too hungry this year, but ‘Bama will ultimately come out on top.”

  “Shit’s team,” Cian mumbled under his breath, bouncing Maeve on his knee. The Cunninghams functioned on two things. Football. And Notre Dame Football. When his parents had migrated from Ireland to the states for more opportunities, they promised all four of them that they would do whatever needed to be done in order for their children to attend Notre Dame. And they had. Of course the pact that he and his brothers had made, swearing with blood and brotherhood in their backyard treehouse that they would all secure full-ride scholarships had helped as well. Cian accepted his full ride playing fullback for the Irish, before Finn surprised nobody by earning an academic scholarship. The smallest of the four of them, he had spent his first three years on the bench under some prodigy running back. Months before high school graduation, him and his brother Rory had laid out every single college acceptance offer from nearly every university across the United States, taking them as far as Hawaii and back up to Boston. Without hesitation they had both chosen Dame.

  “And what about my second favorite team?” his pops asked, shoveling a fistful of peanuts into his mouth. “Can we expect to be in Charleston for the playoffs?”

  Fuck yeah. The Mavericks were on fire and all they had to do was keep doing exactly what they were doing. Zero distractions and exiling the media out of their heads. The winning streak wasn’t a coincidence and they had a hell of a running game set up again for Sunday.

  “I’ll get your room ready, Pops,” he grinned, a pang of guilt hitting him. As much as he wanted his parents at every one of his games, years and years of industrial railroad iron work had taken a toll on his pops. His bad back making it difficult to travel. Of course the prideful man that he was, he didn’t see that. And he often found himself downplaying the glory of the game so his pops wouldn’t feel like he was missing too much. Keeping one eye on the kitchen, he watched his mother fuss over Whitney and Quinn. Pieces of conversations about his grandmother and how he used to be forced to help his mother hang laundry when he had been too young to run about town with his brothers sifted through the great room. Eating it up, Whitney laughed and smiled as if she gave a shit about the family history.