Something Green

by London Miller

  She stepped into her dress, sliding her arms into the lace sleeves, watching as the bodice conformed to her chest as the ribbon was cinched in the back before the zipper was tugged up.

  All morning, she had avoided a full-length mirror, not wanting to see her reflection until it was all done.

  “Oh, you look stunning,” Ada gushed, fussing over her dress to make sure it fell just right. “Your seamstress works wonders.”

  Alex shrugged. “Considering the number of outfits she has to mend the night before and sometimes the night of a show, she’s used to it.”

  Everyone, in their own way, had contributed to making this day possible.

  Alex with her seamstress to tighten the bodice just a bit and add about an inch to the skirt. Winter had ordered a wedding cake from God knew where and paid God knew how much.

  Ada had helped with the bouquet selection, and though she’d had to leave to do something with the Kingmaker’s brother, she’d helped in her own way by organizing the flights for everyone.

  Even Iris had ultimately helped, finding someone to officiate who, apparently, owed her a favor for whatever reason.

  Now, the only thing she had to do was walk down the aisle.

  “Are we ready?” Winter asked, popping her head in, her silver hair seeming to shine brighter against the mint color of her dress.

  She’d been like a manic little pixie all morning—making sure everything was as perfect as she could make it.

  Amber didn’t know how she had possibly gotten any sleep last night.

  “Ready!” Lauren shouted, eyes darting over her.

  Not even a few seconds later, Winter shuffled in with a mirror that was taller than her.

  Blood rushed in her ears as Amber drew in a breath, watching the unveiling of herself as Winter straightened the mirror and she got her first look.

  A lace bodice over a chiffon skirt that trailed nearly a foot behind her—the dress of her dreams. She’d refused to even look at the price tag, knowing that if she did, she’d certainly talk herself out of it.

  But no matter the cost, she loved it.

  From the sweetheart neckline that displayed the simple diamond that rested at the hollow of her throat—something borrowed from her mother.

  To the crystal-encrusted heels she wore—something new.

  And even the baby’s breath twisted throughout her hair, nearly matching the pattern of the lace on her dress and nearly the same color as the lingerie she wore beneath the dress—something green.

  Sacha came toddling in, looking as adorable as could be in his little suit and tie, his dark hair that looked so much like his mother’s brushed into place.

  He gave her that toothy little grin of his before he reached up, clearly wanting to touch the flowers in her hair.

  She thought of yesterday—of being with Kyrnon and what he had said before he’d pulled her into bed. The thought brought happy tears to her eyes because this was it.

  Her happily ever after.

  Lauren smiled, noticing her expression. “I think it’s time to get married.”

  “How could we have beat them here?” Alex asked, looking around, appearing just as amazed as Amber felt.

  It was everything she could have possibly hoped for. Candles everywhere. Baby’s breath and tulips in vases. Vines crawling up the archway they would ultimately stand under.

  Rose petals even covered the white runner that went up the aisle.

  “Everything is so amazing,” she whispered to herself, but in the quiet of the room, her voice carried.

  “Oh no, don’t start crying,” Winter urged, waving at her own eyes. “Seeing people cry turns me into the worst crier you’ve ever seen.”

  “And we don’t want your makeup to run,” Lauren added, dabbing at the corners of her eyes with a napkin.

  The stampede of feet outside the door brought their attention back to it a moment before it was flung open and the boys all came stumbling in, their tuxes soaked with rain.

  “Jaysus bloody Christ, it’s pissing—”

  But Kyrnon’s words cut off as he came in last, shaking the rain from his hair as his gaze came to her.

  There were no words to describe the way his face changed as he gazed at her. Softened around the eyes even as a muscle clenched in his jaw.

  For as long as she lived, she didn’t think she would ever forget the way he looked at her—as if she were the light in a very dark room.

  And oh, did he made a lovely sight standing there in that kilt, looking every bit his moniker.

  It felt like they were the only two in the pub just then—as if nothing else in the world mattered.

  “Guess you’re the one getting walked down the aisle, Celtics,” Luka proclaimed as he pulled his phone from his pocket, and after a few presses of his finger, he had the wedding march playing.

  Alex slapped a hand over her mouth to smother her giggling as Luka looped an arm around Kyrnon’s waist and began slowly walking him forward, not pausing for a second even with the way he resisted.

  Amber couldn’t decide what was funnier—the promise of pain in Kyrnon’s eyes as he cursed him in Gaelic or the proud grin on Luka’s face as he finally got his moment.

  Syn looked at Red expectantly, already cocking out his elbow, but Niklaus merely looked from his arm before he reached a hand out for his wife. “Not on your life.”

  Nothing could possibly ruin this moment.

  And when he curled his calloused hands around hers, she knew this was only the beginning for them.

  “As I live and breathe,” he whispered, his gaze almost reverent, her cheeks warming under his praise.

  “I’m glad you like the dress.”

  “You, lovie. It’s always you.”

  “I do very much like the kilt,” she said.

  “Well, if you’re lucky,” he said with a casual wink, “I’ll let you—”

  “Ahem.” Luka cleared his throat, managing to look reproachful, a sight that was funny because it was him. “Language.”

  “I’ve not said anything yet.”

  “Forewarning.”

  “Why don’t you go sit?”

  “The Irish and those tempers.”

  A door opened toward the back of the pub, a man in white robes slipping out, not looking the least bit surprised to find them there. He took one look at Amber and Kyrnon standing at the arch and clapped his hands, looking genuinely excited.

  Amber couldn’t begin to think where Iris had found him.

  The officiator was a short, stocky man, who wore round glasses and had rather shifty eyes, but he smiled all the same as he came out of the back room.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” he said, his accent as thick as Kyrnon’s still was. “We’re gathered here today to celebrate the union of Kyrnon Murphy and Amber Lacey.”

  Her breath caught at those words, her bottom lip trembling.

  Nothing was really changing—they were just signing a piece of paper. It wasn’t as if they didn’t already live together, or even that they hadn’t been living together for the past few years.

  Yet she was still choked up despite it all.

  This moment made it all feel real.

  “Now, we’ll have the exchange of vows,” he said with a nod in Amber’s direction first.

  Public speaking had never been her strong suit, but she didn’t mind it so much now because she wanted him to hear everything she felt for him.

  “I think I loved you from the very beginning,” she said softly, forgetting all about the notes she’d written for herself in preparation for this. “And I certainly think it was meant to be when you pulled me on that train before the doors closed.”

  She still remembered that day like it was yesterday—that interest she’d felt then was still as strong now, and those impossibly green eyes were as warm as they had ever been.

  “You’ve given me everything I could have possibly wanted and even what I didn’t know I needed when you walked into my life.”

 
She was delirious enough with happiness that she could have mistaken the rosy hue to his cheeks, but as she blinked away the moisture in her eyes she didn’t bother trying to hide, she was sure there was pink there.

  “I want to be the moonlight on your darkest days,” she whispered, afraid of what her voice would do if she spoke any louder.

  He cupped her face, breaking with tradition.

  She committed that soft, loving smile of his to memory even as her breath caught at his words.

  “You complete me. I’m not me without you, and if I have to take on the world to keep you, lovie, I always will.” His gaze darted over her face, her every feeling reflected in his eyes. “I’ll bleed for you. I’ll spend a lifetime making you happy. If you’re hurt, I’ll find a way to mend it—no matter what. I love you now, and I’ll love you for the rest of my life.”

  Winter hiccuped in the back aisle, Tăcut leaning over to whisper comforting words in her ear.

  Amber understood the feeling well.

  “And now, for the rings,” the man said, managing to sound emotional himself even though he didn’t know them at all.

  As if he’d been waiting for this moment—and a soft reminder from his mom—Sacha slid off his chair and hurried forward, pulling the rings from his pocket and placing them in Kyrnon’s hand before he gave him another smile and raced back to his chair.

  They repeated the vows the officiator spoke as they placed the rings on each other—the newly placed silver band on his hand making her feel as incredibly proud as she did lucky.

  Very carefully, a silk scarf was wrapped around their hands and wrists until they were intertwined.

  The officiant smiled as he placed his hands over theirs. “May your hands be forever clasped in friendship, and your heart joined forever in love. I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now—”

  It took Kyrnon all of a second to lean in and kiss her, stealing her next breath.

  Distantly, she could hear the sounds of everyone cheering and even the whistles from Skorpion, she was pretty sure, but this moment was too perfect to focus on anything that wasn’t the two of them.

  And not even a second after the scarf was removed from the hands, he picked her up bodily and practically tossed her over his shoulder.

  “Jesus, Celt—”

  “What about the party?!” Winter called.

  “It’s the wedding night,” Kyrnon said easily, still marching toward the door.

  That managed to get a guffaw out of Luka while Syn cheered on.

  “It’s just past sunrise, asshole.”

  “Wedding. Night.”

  No one argued with him further.

  Instead, she was forced to watch their amused faces as she hung upside down before they disappeared behind the now closed doors of the pub.

  But as they reached the threshold of the cottage, he set her upright and opened the door, smiling back at her.

  “Sometimes I literally think you’re what dreams are made of.”

  This time, when he picked her up, he did it in that way all girls dreamed out, his hold gentle even as he carried her over the threshold.

  And as he carried her into their bedroom and all but tossed her on the bed before he followed her down, Amber was sure every misstep that had come before this moment had been worth it.

  He was worth it.

  “Luka got us a toaster,” she called with a laugh, reading the scrawl that was his name across the wrapping paper.

  Two hours after their ceremony, he still wasn’t letting her out of their bed unless it was to get food.

  Only after she’d waved the proverbial white flag had he finally relented and let her drag in a few of the wedding presents to open.

  Kyrnon shook his head as he came back into the room, those plaid pajama pants of his hanging low on his hips as he carried two mugs of his famous Irish drink—a mix of Bailey’s, Irish whiskey, and something else he refused to share.

  “The lad’s not all there.”

  She set the paper aside and had a peek inside the box, blinking twice when she found the neatly wrapped bundle of cash inside the toaster.

  Ada and Skorpion had given a rather generous gift card to Williams-Sonoma that she was really looking forward to spending.

  Even little Sacha and the babies had given them their own version of a gift—their green-colored handprints placed inside a gold frame. She already knew where she would hang it in the kitchen.

  “The last one is from Calavera and Kit—that’s his name, right? I feel weird calling him the facilitator.”

  Even as it felt completely natural to call his brother the Kingmaker.

  “One and the same,” he answered, stretching out beside her. “What’s it to be then?”

  Their envelope wasn’t like the others.

  It wasn’t a card like she had suspected, but a stack of papers stapled together. She was still reading when Kyrnon plucked them from her hands, his frown growing as he read further down.

  “Jaysus.”

  “What is it?” she asked, genuinely curious what would put that look on his face.

  He handed her the papers back, drinking down half his brew. “They bought us an island.”

  “Like an island, island.”

  He laughed. “You know another kind?”

  No.

  She just didn’t know anyone that could afford to gift someone an entire piece of land.

  “I thought you didn’t know him well?”

  “Let Calavera tell it, he has a tendency to clean up after his brother’s mistakes.”

  Then he was clearly trying to make up for a lot.

  “He won’t have much more to make up for, will he?” Amber asked, finally finding the courage to ask the question that had been on her mind for longer than she’d admitted to herself.

  He drew her over into his arms before he kissed her forehead. “One last job, lovie. Then I’m all yours.”

  She didn’t know the extent of the job he had to do, or why all of the mercenaries were in town to see the end of it, but however it went, it didn’t matter to her so long as at the end of it, he came home to her.

  And when he did, she would be waiting with open arms, ready to start the rest of forever.

  Prodigal

  A Look into the Future …

  Sixteen years later …

  “Kennedy!”

  It was nearly impossible to drown out the sound of her mom’s voice, but Kennedy Murphy refused to look away from the miniature safe tucked away in the back of her closet, her tongue between her teeth as she stared at the digital display that was still counting down.

  The ten-digit keypad taunted her, just begging for her to punch in the right code that would ultimately open it up and reveal what was hidden inside it.

  Two weeks she had been trying to crack the bastard thing, and in all that time, she still hadn’t managed to figure out what sort of sorcery her da had put on the damned thing that made it impossible to open.

  Some days, she relished the challenge it presented, enjoying the high she got from solving puzzles and riddles, but on other days… she was reminded that she wasn’t nearly as good at breaking into things as her da had been when he was her age.

  She couldn’t be sure, not when her parents liked to keep her sheltered away from such things, but she was pretty sure her da, Kyrnon, was still in that business in some capacity.

  Sure, he was home for supper every night—or ready to chase off the lone lad she brought around for a study session—but she also didn’t miss the way he snuck away every so often down into the secret office he thought she knew nothing about.

  The lone place in the loft that she hadn’t found a way to sneak into.

  Yet.

  Until she could, whatever secrets were tucked away down there would stay a mystery to her.

  “Kennedy, you’re going to miss the bus!”

  “Be right down, Ma!” she called back. Though she didn’t for a second take her eyes off the safe in fro
nt of her, she did feel the rush of anticipation as she recognized her time was running out.

  She had about forty-five seconds before her mom hit the stairs and another twenty before she made it down the hallway and to her bedroom door, and then the last seven point five seconds was how long it would take her to reach the closet where Kennedy was currently sitting and not getting ready for school.

  And if she found her like this, she’d be breaking her da’s number one rule.

  Never get caught.

  Blowing out a breath, she looked back at the keypad, cycling through another of her da’s infamous rules he’d crafted for himself back when he was the world’s premier thief.

  Rule #34: When you have a mark, the lot of ’em aren’t complicated. More than likely, a man’s password is something that means the most to ’im.

  A four-digit code then that meant something to her father, but also one he was sure she would know.

  A birthday with only the month and day, or just the year.

  It could be her own or her mom’s …

  So many options.

  So little time.

  She was turning seventeen this year—the year he’d promised to teach her a bit of what he knew if she managed to stay out of trouble—especially after the incident last year—and kept her grades up.

  That made the most sense.

  Before she could second-guess the decision, she pressed each number for this year rather than her birthday.

  A second …

  Two …

  A green light flashed before the safe clicked open. She threw her fists up in the air, hitting the bundle of coats hanging above her.

  She hadn’t known what she was expecting to find inside as she pushed the door open wider and shined her phone’s flashlight inside it.

  There were no jewels or money—she’d gotten lucky in the past—nor was there anything of particular monetary value.

  The only thing resting inside the safe was a single postcard with her da’s handwriting scribbled across the back.

  If you’ve not cracked this by the 15th of August, you’ll never get around to opening your birthday gift on time. Get a move on, little dove. —Da