Soaring (30 page)

“You’re doing well?” he asked.

“I am, but I’m also on my way somewhere. I don’t want to be rude but I need to go.”

“Of course, I’ll call you with updates, Amelia.”

“Thank you, Preston.”

We disconnected and instantly I asked Mickey, “Can you step away from my car?”

“You’re fightin’ for your kids?” he asked back.

That was none of his business.

But after what he did to me last night, he thought he could ask?

I’d answer.

“My best friend in Cali just found out that my husband didn’t only fuck, and then fall in love with, and then put an engagement ring on the finger of a nurse in his hospital in San Diego, this all while still married to me,” I shared. “He fucked his way through his hospital in Boston, the one in Lexington, perhaps the one in San Diego too, and he’d had at least one sexual harassment claim against him. As this is new information and I’m tired of not seeing my children, should he not agree to a more equitable custody schedule, I’m afraid I’m going to have to fight dirty.”

“That’s not dirty, Amy, he’s dirty,” Mickey said quietly.

“Thank you for your opinion,” I returned tartly. “Now will you step away from my car?”

He straightened from it and turned to me.

But he didn’t step away.

“We gotta talk,” he told me, his voice gentle, his eyes not leaving me.

“No, you see, you’re wrong about that,” I replied. “We’ve done that and I’ve found it isn’t much fun for me.”

“I was outta line last night,” he stated.

“You were,” I agreed. “Is that your apology?”

“Yeah, Amy, that’s my apology.” His voice was still gentle.

It sounded amazing.

It didn’t work on me because just standing there looking at him, I was still bleeding.

“Apology accepted.
Now
will you step away from my car?”

He shook his head not taking his eyes from me. “I’m here askin’ you to give me a shot at explaining that fucked up shit I spewed last night.”

“I’m not an imbecile, Mickey,” I informed him instantly. “You explained it pretty clearly last night. You had a wife who you loved who did something you couldn’t control. It was a betrayal against you and your kids, as sure as if she’d gone out and slept with an entire army. Being a man’s man, a protective man, possibly a good man, it hurt you that you couldn’t give her what she needed. I suspect you could handle that, but she hurt your kids and keeps doing it. You’re now forced to tolerate that, even as it’s intolerable. And being a man’s man, you’re not about to put yourself or your kids in the same position with another woman. Do I have that right?”

“That about sums it up,” he confirmed.

“I do believe we decided that was where we stood last night so I have to admit to some confusion about why you’re here today,” I remarked.

“Because I fucked up last night,” he returned.

“You’re right. You did. And it’s done. I still don’t understand why we aren’t moving on…
separately
.”

He made as if to move to me but stopped when he saw my body lock.

His expression went as gentle as his voice, and with that look on his features,
that
was a sight to see.

It also didn’t work on me.

“I’d like a chance to fix it, baby,” he said softly.

“No,” I returned firmly. “You see, in three months, you’ve made me feel unattractive, undesirable, unwanted,
unneeded
and it took two
decades
for Conrad to make me feel all that.” I fought past his flinch, a flinch even as much as he hurt me I felt right to the heart of me, and concluded, “I’m not yearning for more, Mickey. So why don’t we just let what never was really anything be just that.”

“That’s not going to happen,” he declared.

“Why?” I asked.

“Because I can’t do that,” he answered.

“
Why?
” I snapped.

“Because we both want more.”

“We did,” I confirmed. “Now
I
don’t.”

“We got something, Amy,” he returned.

“Wrong,” I retorted. “We might have but then we didn’t.”

His jaw got hard as his patience started waning. “You know that’s bullshit. There’s something here. Something strong. Something I tried to fight but couldn’t. Something that draws us to each other. Something we’re both old enough and smart enough not to ignore. And there’s something you don’t even know that makes it more.”

Twenty-four hours ago I would have loved knowing he thought that.

Right then, I wouldn’t allow myself to.

“This might have been true but it no longer is, Mickey,” I replied. “And since you aren’t catching my hint, I’ll say it straight. I don’t wish to discuss any further what we might have had when in future we won’t be having
anything
.”

“You’re not the only one with a legacy, Amy,” he shot at me, patience definitely waning. “That fishing company my brothers run is Maine Fresh Maritime. The fillets and fish sticks you can find in the green, white and orange box in your local grocer’s freezer.”

My mouth dropped open.

“Yeah,” he grunted. “That’s why my dad could drop a shit ton on selling his house to me because that was part…
part
of my inheritance. I coulda been a part of that but I didn’t want a desk job. I wanted to fight fires. I wanted to stay in Magdalene. I wanted nothin’ but that and eventually a wife and kids sittin’ around a dinner table. I tried to work the boats, take my stake of that legacy in a way that worked for me. Found bein’ on a boat for weeks cut into my time chasin’ skirt while also lookin’ for a wife. So I quit and volunteered doin’ what I love to do and found a way to have a life, and when the time came, take care of my family.” His eyes moved to the nursing home then back to me, doing this to hammer his point home but he also did it verbally. “You get that, Amy?”

This heretofore unknown parallel of our lives was shocking.

And enthralling.

I obviously didn’t share I thought that with Mickey, but he didn’t give me a chance to because he wasn’t finished speaking.

“I could go to Bar Harbor and walk into Frank’s office, ask for a job, get it and make ten times more than I do right now just for bein’ his brother. That’s my choice not to do that. That’s my choice not to give my kids what they could get outta that. You made another choice that’s different, but it’s yours. Though, don’t think I know a single soul who might come close to getting me and my choices, except you.”

“This is true, Mickey, I get you. But that doesn’t mean one thing. That’s impressive. Maine Fresh Maritime, very impressive. But I have three trust funds that I’m
not
turning my back on because I
like
the way I live and I’m
not
going to be made to feel less because I do or be judged because I do or feel pressured to be anything but what I am.”

“That’s not my point, Amy.”

“I’m not sure I care to understand your point, Mickey.”

“Tough, ’cause you’re going to.”

I rolled my eyes to the heavens and asked the clouds, “Why is that not surprising?”

“Babe, my point is, you got that, you live the way you want, and still you got it right about the only thing you need to be happy. And it isn’t those trust funds.”

I rolled my eyes back to him and narrowed them. “Don’t you dare use my killshot of last night against me, Mickey Donovan,” I spat.

Clearly coming to the end of his patience, he leaned toward me and bit back, “I’m usin’ it to point out, last night your aim was true.”

I threw out my hands and looked back to the heavens, crying, “Well hallelujah! I can die happy.”

My gaze shot back to him when he asked irritably, “Why is it when you’re a smartass I wanna fuck you more than I normally wanna fuck you?”

“You wanna fuck me?” I asked back, injecting these words with deep disbelief. “Shocker considering I’m…” I paused and leaned into him, “
Attractive
.”

His brows snapped together. “Wouldn’t wanna fuck a woman who wasn’t, Amy.”

I glared at him. “Fascinating, since you didn’t want
me
until I got
highlights
.”

His brows stayed knit and his eyes got dark. “You got what?”

“
Highlights,
” I snapped, jerking a pointed finger to my hair.

He looked to my hair and muttered, “Fuck, thought something was different.”

I blinked.

He looked back to me. “Looks nice. Definitely like the bangs.”

I blinked again.

Then I took a step his way, got up on my toes and accused, “Do not stand there and tell me you didn’t notice my highlights or my new clothes.”

He looked down his nose at me. “Noticed the haircut, babe, like I said, it looks nice. Definitely noticed the clothes but didn’t think they were new. Thought the old shit was shit you were usin’ because you hadn’t unpacked all your stuff yet ’cause when you did, it was more you.”

“So you’re saying this newfound attraction to me isn’t about my highlights and clothes,” I scoffed.

“Babe, don’t hand me that crap,” he growled. “You’re old enough to know you got it. And you’re also old enough to know a man does not get in the face of another man and then offer to help around the house unless he’s into the woman he’s offerin’ that shit to.”

My heart jumped, my teeth clenched and Lawr was proved correct.

However, I could not let this get to me.

Instead, I found it was time to share something with him.

“I am aware that your preferences run to tall redheads with big breasts.”

Surprise washed over his features as he asked, “What?”

“I saw you,” I spat. “With that beautiful redhead at the movies.”

That was when his features turned smug.

I felt pressure build in my chest, throat, but especially in my head. “You
like
that I saw you?”

“May not say much for me, Amy, but after watchin’ you make a date with Stone right in front of me and make
out
with that douche, yeah. I like it that I gave you a little of that torture you handed me, seein’ me with Bridget.”

That torture you handed me.

That hurt him.

God, he was
into me
.

I couldn’t let that get to me and leaned deeper into him in order to remind him, “I kissed you and you pulled away.”

He bent his neck to get in my face and called sarcastically, “
Hello
, Amy. First, fightin’ your pull because I didn’t need to be fuckin’ the woman across the street, and if that shit went south, puttin’ myself in an awkward situation when I got my kids every other week…or puttin’ myself in that situation
at all
. Second, fightin’ your pull because you’re
you
and you’re
loaded
and I had my head up my ass about protectin’ me and my family. But last, not gonna fuck some cute brunette with great tits on my couch while my kids are in their beds.”

“I’m not cute,” I snapped waspishly.

“No, you’re not, you’re fuckin’ gorgeous. But when you wake up on my couch after playin’ Frisbee with my kids, you’re cute.”

I rocked back, staring up at him, lips parted, liking too much the way all of that made me feel.

“Now, are we done givin’ the residents their afternoon entertainment and you’re gonna let me take you out and make it up to you or are we gonna go a few more rounds?” he asked.

When he did, in horror, I turned to look over my shoulder to see all the windows had been opened and the seniors had their faces in them. Mrs. McMurphy even had a cheek pressed to one of the bars.

It was then I realized that quite some time early in our conversation, both our voices had started rising.

Mortification seeped through me.

I slowly looked back when Mickey kept on and he didn’t do it quietly.

“I’ll warn you, might make me crazy, might make me a dick, don’t give a shit, but I get off on goin’ head to head with you. So if you feel like keepin’ your gloves up, baby, bring it. ’Cause I know after doin’ it for a while and then gettin’ that kiss from you, you keep doin’ it, when I finally fuck you it’s gonna,” he leaned deep into me, “
wreck you
.”

I stared into his eyes and
that
got to me.

I wanted to be wrecked.

I wanted to be wrecked by Mickey.

Needed
it.

Thankfully, I didn’t say that because my lips wouldn’t move.

“Michael Patrick Donovan, I’ll be sharing your liberal use of profanities with your mother
and
Father Riley!” a female I was pretty sure was Mrs. Osborn, who wandered the home with her rosary beads daily, shouted.

Mickey ignored that and I watched his eyes change in a way that made me wish I could fall into them and swim in that blue forever.

“Have dinner with me,” he whispered.

Oh God, I wanted that too.

I felt his hand curl around the side of my neck and the feel of his strength, his heat through that simple touch made me want it more.

“Amy,” he prompted.

“I need to think,” I whispered and watched his eyes flash and they did this with victory.

It was fabulous.

Then his hand on me tightened and he murmured, “I’ll give you what you need.”

I didn’t lie. I needed to think.

I also needed to call Robin and discuss.

Thoroughly.

And, possibly, Lawrie.

Mickey lifted up and kissed my forehead in a way that was unbearably sweet.

Then he let me go and I felt bereft in a way that was intensely troubling.

In a haze caused by Mickey, I felt him move beyond me and whirled quickly.

“Mickey,” I called.

He turned to me.

I looked at his beauty and swallowed.

Then I said softly, for only him and no audience to hear, “
If
I decide to give this a shot, before I share that with you, you need to think too. You have to have your head straight. I know you’re still dealing with Rhiannon’s issues and I hate that for you and the kids. But they’re hers, not mine. And if you do anything like you did to me last night ever again, I’m sorry, it might not be fair, but I have to tell you, there won’t be any more second chances.”