Those words send him overboard. He can’t control the spasms twitching his incredible, muscular physique. He sputters and moans, and without much warning, I feel that all too familiar sensation of his seed spilling inside me.
Mickey crumbles to his elbows on top of me. He places a single soft kiss against my forehead before he struggles to find his breath to speak.
“You’re going to make the perfect mother,” he says.
I want to bring him in for another kiss, but Mickey rolls off of me and across the bed. I miss the warmth of his body against mine as soon as he’s gone.
He rummages through one of the drawers on the nightstand until he finds what he’s looking for.
“You know, it’s funny,” he says. Whatever he’s holding is concealed within his massive fist. “I bought this the first day I saw you. Threw it in my drawer, thinking I’d give you some time to get used to me. See if you really wanted this. But I don’t want to wait anymore, Brianna.”
“What is it?” I inspect his hand quizzically.
He twists his wrist and extends his long fingers, exposing a little black box in the center of his palm.
“I didn’t think a man like me would ever find love. I still don’t believe I deserve it. But you’ve tainted women for me, Brianna. You haven’t left my head since the moment I met you, and if you say yes, you’ll be the only thing on it for the rest of my life.”
Mickey sniffs.
“Will you make me the happiest man this world has ever seen?” He lifts the top of the velveteen box, exposing an enormous diamond on a thin ring of gold. “Will you marry me?”
I’m crying before I even realize there were tears to shed.
“Yes, Mickey, a thousand times yes,” I fling myself forward and latch onto him so tight, our bodies practically merge as one.
He strokes my back, and in a low, meaningful whisper, Mickey says. “I love you.”
“And I love you.”
Epilogue
Mickey
Eighteen Months Later
“Another round?” I ask, cracking open a beer.
“Not for me, no,” Artie Declan waves a hand and shakes his head. “It’s getting on, and I’ve still got to drive home.”
“Good man.”
“What are you boys getting up to?” My wife asks from the sliding door leading onto my balcony.
She’s wearing a light blue summer dress that billows in the wind. The color matches her eyes and makes her fiery red hair pop. She’s cradling a bundle of blankets housing my son, against her chest.
The lucky bastard gets to cuddle up to those breasts all day. I’m right jealous of him.
“Flipping burgers and talking shit, you know, the usual,” I say. “How’s our little man doing?”
“Michael’s getting ready for his afternoon nap,” Brianna says.
“Speaking of which, I should probably do the same,” Artie chuckles.
Michael’s arms extend towards Artie the second he hears his Pop-pop’s voice. He’s been fond of him since the first day they met. Back when I still wasn’t sure Artie really became achanged man, as he so eagerly stated.
“Ah, come on, we haven’t even dug into our grub yet,” I turn to him. But if I’m honest, I’m happy he’s heading out. Brianna’s dress is starting to look awfully loose, and it’s time I fix that problem.
“I’ve got work in the morning, and I can’t play like I used to.” Artie opens his arms and accepts Michael.