She’s looking, really looking, only at me.
“I love you too, Jack.”
To be honest, she might have said something else, but that’s the gist and a cheer goes up while I’m kissing the girl of my dreams.
A sharp finger jams itself into my bare rib.
“If you’re done, Romeo, go put on some pants, and we can get the party started,” Molly says.
But she winks, before wrapping an arm around Alix.
“We’re going to the Kildare. Wait until you try the onion dip!”
An hour later, I follow Owen’s truck in my SUV into Kildare’s parking lot. One hand on the steering wheel, one proprietarily on Alix’s thigh. There’s no street parking or open space in the Kildare’s parking lot available in sight; thankfully, the family’s private parking area has spots.
“It’s Mrs. McCrery’s onion dip,” Owen says conspiratorially. “Brings them by the horde every year.”
Sure enough, some folks close to the bar have paper plates and what looks like onion dip and chips.
After the diet I’ve been on pre-fight, I’m ready to enjoy that.
My hand wraps around Alix’s, and I slow my pace, so it’s easy for her to keep up. Going to have to remember that I’ll be walking at a new pace now.
Not bad.
Great, in fact.
But different.
Going to take some intentional focus to get things right.
New beginnings, they take work.
But they’re worth it.
We come in through the back storeroom and emerge behind the bar, and the Kildare’s filled to the rafters. It’s close to midnight, and an Irish band is playing like bringing in the New Year depends on it.
I recognize Kieran Doyle at the guitar, and an ethereal woman with long red-gold hair plays the fiddle.
“She actually played over at the Pops and then rushed here to join him on stage,” says Molly.
Siobhan Carney, Kieran’s partner.
Owen’s brother Seamus is dressed like he’s going to a black-tie function, and he’s with a striking woman in a short dress who looks like she’s destined for a punk club. Her hair’s spiky, and she’s wearing a ton of makeup, and her full-sleeve tattoos are bright against pale skin.
Seamus hits Owen on the arm.
“Hey, baby brother!”
Owen looks annoyed but just grins.
“Jack, great to see you as always. Happy New Year. That was a hell of a fight.”
He indicates the woman next to him, who gives us a catlike smile but focuses on Alix.
“He was really anxious to get you. Haven’t seen a move like that since Owen and Molly.”
Molly starts to protest but the woman – who Seamus introduces as “Evelyn but please call her Evi” – snorts.
“We’ve all seen the tape.”
I grin.
I’ve seen the tape. It’s pretty great.
My body aches a bit, and I can still feel where Manfredo clipped my broken nose. But then I feel the hand in mine, and a wave of peace and joy washes over me. Tonight’s for celebrating. Pop a couple of aspirin and enjoy everything this day has to offer.
And this night.
Especially this night.
Time to gripe about aches and pains tomorrow.
Owen leads the way toward the familiar back booth where Murphy Doyle holds court. We pass Connor on the way, dancing with a well-dressed woman who’s got eyes only for him.
“That’s Ava, she’s great. She’s going to sue every corrupt fucker in this city that Ruby doesn’t arrest first,” yells Molly.
Ruby.
Right.
Owen said something about Ronan getting tangled up with a detective in the Boston P.D., which is fascinating.
Alix glances at me with wide eyes and I grin down at her. They’re great.
Murphy sits with some old-timers from the neighborhood, drinking whiskey and shooting the shit like he has for a hundred New Years before. I look at his graying complexion and the oxygen – set to 4/5 – and know that this is probably the last one he’ll spend with us.
It’s very Murphy to do it his way.
Again, I’d love to be half the man he is someday.
His oldest son Ronan slides out of the booth and stands, saying something to a waitress.
“Hell of a fight, Jack.”
Ronan’s eyes shift to Alix.
“I’m Ronan Doyle, and it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Something like a growl starts in my throat, but Ronan just barks a laugh.
“Easy big guy.”
Right.
“I was going to say, they cut to commercial, and Dad’s been dying to know if Jack would come to show you off or drown his sorrows. Glad it’s number one, Alix,” he laughs.
A lot of eyes are on my woman, and who the hell can blame them?
Hourglass figure, curves for days, and that damned dress I can’t wait to get off her.
But it’s making me a little crazy too.
In a way, that’s new.
Interesting.
A little exciting.
I slide a proprietary arm and pull Alix closer. I can’t seem to get her close enough, which is also new and exciting.
Murphy seems to have dismissed his crew because the old guys are grabbing glasses and staggering off.
It’s just Murphy, sitting next to a gorgeous brunette that I’d peg for law enforcement.
Ruby.
He gives me a smile.
“Told ya.”
Told ya about the fight.
Told ya about the girl.
Told ya about life.
Right, all of it.
I just wish we’d have more time.
Years of wisdom I could use there.
How to be a good father.
Maybe a husband again, if I’m lucky, and this time gets it right.
What to do when my time in the military comes to an end.
How to make sure I end up being the kind of man he is.
But wishing for time doesn’t make it so, and I can tell from the look on his face he’s reading my thoughts.
But we have tonight, so that’s what we’ll celebrate.
Isn’t that what he’d said?
Isn’t that what I’d learned?
A server drops off a round of drinks.
I introduce Alix to Murphy.
“Just as beautiful as he said you were, darling! Have a seat. You’ll have to forgive an old man for not getting up. Manners, always the first thing to go.”
Alix is completely charmed.
I sit in one of the chairs, and when Alix goes to sit next to me, I growl and pull her into my lap.
Mine.
Also new, exciting, and very damned fantastic.
Murphy looks at me.
“How long ‘til you retire, son?”
“Eleven months, sixteen days.”
I don’t even have to think.
That earns a laugh from the table.
“Remember what we talked about, back in my office.”
Twenty years ago. Does he forget anything?
“You think about it?”
I’ve thought about it a lot over the years.
I’ve got a lot of incentive to stay here.
But my boy is on the opposite coast. Alix and I are going to have to navigate that, but I’m not borrowing tomorrow’s troubles today.
“Ronan here’s going to need someone like you. Consider it.”
Ronan surprises me by giving me a nod. “Let’s talk about it, Jack. We’ve both got time, but I could use someone with your skills.”
I readily agree. No harm in talking and I like the idea of knowing my options.
A place with the Doyles would be a hell of a job to look forward to, something I could be proud of when my time in the Marines is done.
My ex has mentioned her husband might be coming back East for a teaching job. Maybe it’d all work out, one way or another.
Murphy
turns his attention back to the angel in my lap. “Do you mind if I give you both some advice?”
Never.
He looks at Alix. “You two have known each other for a long time?”
She nods.
“It’s easy to think you know everything there is to know. Don’t forget that half the fun is discovering you’re wrong and rediscovering how people change and grow over the years.
Alix looks a little startled, and I realize how right he is. I’m looking forward to some rediscovery, starting in a bed in about an hour.
He turns to me.
“Do the dishes. Every night. You teach your boy to do the same. Be the kind of man that never takes that for granted, Jack. Not that I think you would. That’ll get you much further than big gestures.”
The crowd has gone silent, and I see that it’s almost midnight.
The redhead, Siobhan, and Kieran step up to microphone. The ghostly notes of Auld Lange Syne begin, and a chill runs down my spine. She has one of the most haunting voices I’ve ever heard, and Kieran carries the low notes of the harmony perfectly.
Should old acquaintance be forgot…
My eyes and everyone else’s in the place are on Murph. He’s staring hard at the singers, although it looks to me like he’s looking through the years, seeing something else.
Another place.
Another time.
Another woman.
We twa hae paidl'd in the burn,
Frae morning sun till dine;
But seas between us braid hae roar'd
My throat closes, and I can’t seem to hold Alix close enough.
There’s a cheer when it winds down, though there’s not a dry eye in the fucking place, mine included. Mrs. McCrery calls midnight and another cheer goes up.
A new year.
A new life.
A new love.
My lips are on hers, and I can’t think of a better way to bring in the start of something amazing. Good things are possible. You can honor the past and life in the present, while holding hope for a better future. You can be a good person and still keep your commitments to others.
Together, all things are possible.
Here’s to new beginnings.
Happy New Year, beautiful.
Epilogue 2
Epilogue – Alix – New Year’s Eve, One Year Later
Gloucester, Massachusetts
I stand in the small bathroom beside the bridal suite, clutching the phone to my ear. My hands shake and I try not to get distracted by the flash of diamond earrings in the mirror.
They were beautiful gift from Jack before I’d left the farm for my parents’ house.
“Alix,” my doctor chirps in my ear.
“Congratulations! It’s definitely positive. But there’s something else, and I need you to come back in.”
Not today. Please, nothing terrible.
“The ultrasound tech didn’t say anything to you, but does your family have a history of multiples?”
It takes a second for my brain to reorient and focus on what that means.
Twins?
No.
Did Jack’s?
I’m not sure.
“Alix, I know you’re leaving for Hawaii on Tuesday, but first, I’d like you to come in for an exam and ultrasound. It looks like three heartbeats.”
Three?
Three.
I sit down abruptly on the edge of the tub, breathing hard as the world spins fast. My mother opens the door, her face melting from beatific to concern at the look at my face.
“Get Jack,” is all I can say.
I confirm a doctor’s appointment for 8 am and disconnect.
We’re supposed to start in ten minutes.
But I have to see him first.
He needs to know.
The sounds of Jack’s large body moving into the room fast slow my thundering heart, as his voice calming my mother and friends.
“Thank you so much, Evi. Ladies, could you give us the room for just a few minutes?”
The words flow smoothly as he escorts the women out, and I see the flicker of my mother’s sparkling copper dress as the door shuts quietly behind her.
Jack fills up the doorway of the bathroom.
For one improbable minute, given the news I just received, the tuxedo molded to every muscle and straining against those broad shoulders is all I can see.
That’s what got you here, I think wryly.
But I stand up, saying, “Wow, you look amazing.”
At the exact same moment that he looks almost stricken and wipes a hand across his face fast.
He takes my hand and leads me out of the little bathroom and into the suite. Much more appropriate for seeing your bride for the first time, I guess.
“There’s not a single day you don’t take my breath away, but you’re a walking angel today.” His voice is a bass grumble that holds the promise and threat of serious action. The amazing, enticing and unforgettable serious action that Jack loves to deliver.
Every night.
Most mornings.
My god, this man.
Then the look on his face changes, from wonder to all business.
“But Alexandra, your mother said you needed me. What is it, what’s wrong?”
I let him lead me to one of the wicker settees, where he settles me and tries to fluff down the poofs of this dress.
Of course, it explains why the dress that fit perfectly at my last fitting two weeks ago felt like I’d eaten an entire burrito this morning. It closed, but my mother had given me an “I told you to slow down on the carbs at the rehearsal dinner” eyebrow raise that hadn’t gone unnoticed.
And it also explained why a dress that was supposed to be modest barely contained the cleavage spilling out.
Jack considers the settee and settles for kneeling next to me. It’d never hold him.
“What is it, baby? What’s wrong?”
Dark blue eyes search my face, the lines of confidence going to concern and then setting themselves like steel.
“Alexandra, I love you, and you’re the most important thing in the world to me. Tell me what you need, baby, and I’ll do anything. Even if you’ve changed your mind. Anything. Whatever it is, we can deal with it together.”
His eyes beg me not to change my mind.
My throat tightens. I’d never change my mind.
But that’s Jack: always willing to do what’s right by those he loves. I just hope the news I’m about to give him brings joy.
In five minutes before we’re supposed to say “I do” in front of our family and friends.
“Jack, I’m pregnant.”
At the words, a light takes hold in his eyes, a joy that’s so real and palpable that I’d follow it to the ends of the Earth in that minute.
He grins wide, his eyes crinkling as the delight reaches his eyes.
We hadn’t really talked about kids; other than how we’d make sure JJ had everything he needed. It was one of those “it would happen if it was meant to” conversations.
I had some minor health challenges that might make things harder.
He had a very active libido that might make it easier.
We’d just see how it worked out.
He leans toward me, wrapping his arms around me like I might break, like I’m the most fragile and precious thing in the world.
“Baby, that’s amazing. I didn’t think this day could get better, but…”
His voice trails off.
I swallow hard.
“Jack, I wanted you to know now. I would never want you to feel like I’d withheld information or that you didn’t have a choice.”
Recognition dawns on his face, and relief floods me as his eyes go soft.
“Alexandra, the most beautiful woman in the world, telling me on her wedding day that we’re going to be starting a family? It’s the best news I’ve ever gotten.”
I clear my throat.
“There’s more.”
I raise an eyebrow.
“The doctor called…”
“Is everything alright?” he cuts in, protective instincts already flaring as his arms go tighter around me.
Us.
“She asked if anyone in our families has ever had…triplets.”
At that, the signature Mulvaney composure slides and he swallows hard.
Confusion flashes to a neutral face and then to something like panic, before going to quiet confidence again.
“Triplets?”
I start to laugh, to giggle at the fact that this man that’s faced down so much – battle, war, stalkers, fights – is contemplating three babies and looking a little weak-kneed. Then I get a little hysterical when I realize how much I’m going to have to do.
But not alone.
Never alone again.
He takes my hands and pulls me to my feet. When he bends down and puts his lips on mine, it’s the most tender kiss. My whole body responds, pulling up toward him.
“Time to make an honest man of me,” he finally growls in my ear, after his lips have trailed a line of kisses from my lips and up my neck. The temperature in this room just spiked.
“And you really do look like the most beautiful woman in the world in that dress.” His hands slide down my sides.
“And now I’m imagining you out of it.”
Typical Jack. Heart engages and the rest of the equipment follows.
“A little surprise, but I’ve got the bridal suite reserved for two tonight.” His voice dips even lower.
That’s when it comes, the awkward whine, and we both look over at the fat little spotted corgi in his bowtie. Cookie looks a bit anxious, like he has a very set schedule to deliver those rings.
“Apparently for three.”
Jack grins, grabs the lead, and kisses me one more time on the forehead.
“I’ll see you out there, gorgeous.”
For one long second, I turn back to the sliding glass doors and look out at the winter ocean sparkling beyond.
In just a few minutes, I’ll say yes to a future with Jack Mulvaney. I’ll spend the night ringing in the New Year in the arms of my husband, in a beautiful hotel on the shores of the Atlantic, in a place I love.
Tomorrow, I’d go to the doctor and confirm that our babies – plural, my heart flutters at the thought – are healthy.
Tuesday, Jack will officially retire from the Marine Corps.
And then Wednesday, we leave for Hawaii.
Ringer: A New Year's Romance: The Doyles, a Boston Irish Mafia Romance Page 16
