“The choice is yours for the taking. Point at the map, and I’ll book four tickets.”
“But there are only three of us,” Brianna crooks a brow.
“Not after tonight, there won’t be.”
Brianna’s freckled cheeks turn a shade of crimson that gets the blood pumping faster in my veins.
Damn, I love this woman.
Extended Epilogue
Brianna
Like Mickey instructed, I pointed at a map, and we went on holiday. I settled on Ireland, to see where he grew up. With all the flashy titles he’d received from the country, I had to put a picture to the places I'd only imagined for all those years.
The thing is, we never went back to America. Mickey decided on that day, that he’d be hanging up his guns for a simpler life. Hearing Michael saydadawas a sobering moment for him. He’d spent time with us every night, but during the day he was off doing who knows what, to dangerous men who’d kill him in a heartbeat.
Mickey didn’t want to miss another milestone, and he never did again. He held my hand through our daughter’s birth, then our next, and five more after that, until our home was full of bright brimming faces.
“Are you ready, kids?” I scream through the house.
“Ready,” Mickey is the first to respond.
“I said, kids.”
“I’m the biggest man-child of the lot. You should probably take special care of me.” He slips out of the bedroom and into the kitchen, where I’m standing in front of nine fully packed bags. “But we can save that for tonight when the kids are sleeping and we have the hotel room to ourselves.”
“My dad might not give us a minute alone. He hasn’t seen us in years.”
The first children to arrive are our twins, Laura and Luna. Mickey walks over to Luna and wipes off a smudge of jam from this morning’s breakfast.
“How are you girls doing this fantastic morning?” He asks.
“We’re excited,” Laura says. Her missing-toothed grin stretches from ear to ear.
“Excited? For what?” Mickey asks. He puts a hand under his chin, staring at her with false contemplation.
“We’re going to see grandpa,” she yells giddily.
The last time they saw her, they were barely able to walk. It’s the thrill of meeting him, rather than actuallyseeinghim again that has them excited. Or maybe it’s just the thought of the beach in Spain. Lord knows that’s what I’m ready for.
“I think Ben needs a diaper change,” Michael’s the next to emerge from his cave. He’s holding our youngest in his arms, extending them outward for the smell.
Mickey turns to me with wide eyes.
“It’s your turn to change the baby,” we say in unison.
“How about we both do it?” Mickey suggests. “Let the kids round up the rest, so we can all be ready to leave together.”
He turns his stern gaze to Michael, Laura, and Luna.
Mickey might be getting softer in his old age, but he still runs this family with the same iron fist that built the Irish mafia. He’s never laid a finger on any of them, he’s never had to, they always knew that when daddy’s brow raises, and his tone shifts in that certain way, they better do as they’re told.
Laura and Luna are the first to run upstairs yelling for their siblings. “Robert, Ally, Simon, come on. You’re gonna get us in trouble. You gotta hurry up.”
Michael hands Ben to me and joins his sister to gather the rest of our children.
Mickey’s hand reaches down to my ass while we walk. He gives it a cheeky squeeze, leering sheepishly over his shoulder to see if we’re alone. That subtle touch and the playful smile on my husband's face has something stirring in me. I want to believe it’s the feeling of his hands on my body again, but it shifts my mood from excited to nervous in a heartbeat.