Soaring(216)

“All I need is you,” I said softly.

His eyes moved down to me.

Do what I gotta do.

He’d found that letter when he’d spent the night the first time all our kids were together.

And he’d done what he had to do.

“First, I have the Bourne trust fund, Mickey,” I began gently. “Prior to me turning thirty, if I did something that the board or my parents petitioning the board meant they could withhold it from me, they could have withheld that money permanently. Once I receive it, there are no caveats. It’s irrevocable. And that has enough money in it to live on comfortably.”

A muscle ticked in his cheek.

“Second,” I went on, “it could all go up in a puff a smoke and I wouldn’t care. Yes, I might eventually want better countertop appliances when we moved in together, but even that wouldn’t matter and not because I have my own. Because I’d have you. I’d have you and Auden and Pippa and Ash and Cill. If I had all that, since that would be having it all, what else would I ever need?”

“I got here, you barely looked at me,” he returned.

“You’ve been pulling away,” I shared. “I thought you were going to end things with me.”

His face again went stormy. “Are you fuckin’ crazy?”

“Think about it,” I returned. “Our conversations have been perfunctory. And you didn’t say you loved me once since you were in Phoenix.”

“That is not fuckin’ true,” he growled.

“‘Same here’ is not ‘I love you,’ Mickey.”

“It fuckin’ is, Amy, especially when Chop’s around. We been best buds since we were five. He takes every opportunity to bust my ass about anything and he’s good at it ’cause he’s had a lot of practice. Makes the boys at the firehouse look like amateurs. Then again, he gives me shit because I give it back. It’s what we do. And with me, Ash and Cill yammerin’ on about you, he knows what you mean to me, he’s lookin’ forward to meetin’ you, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t take his opportunities, and he got a lot in. He made a point of hangin’ close when I’d call you just to get the chance to give me shit. I wasn’t gonna give him more openings. And it may sound fucked, but I’d never hear the end of it. And seein’ as that would be about me tellin’ the woman I love that I love her, it might piss me off. I didn’t take my kids to Phoenix to visit a man who’s like a brother to me and then spend that time bein’ pissed off. ”

So Josie was right.

Shit.

And they’d “yammered on” about me?

That felt great.

“Did you consider explaining that to me?” I asked hesitantly.

He threw both hands out in a gesture of frustration.

“Amy, I’ve been dealin’ with all this shit for you and the fact that once I tell my kids we’re loaded, Cill’s gonna want me to build him his own personal paintball arena. And hangin’ with your girl and you, suddenly my girl is into clothes and decorating. She’s linin’ up babysitting jobs to feed that need. She found some print online that she wants for her wall that she has to have in her room and that shit costs a hundred and fifty dollars. She knows I got cake, no tellin’ now what she’s gonna want.”

I found that funny and wonderful news. Mickey having a daughter who liked clothes and expensive pictures for her wall were much better problems than Mickey with a daughter who had to play mother to his son because her mother was a drunk at the same time she’s bullied at school.

I didn’t share that.

I asked, “So it was just that your mind was on other things?”

“Yeah,” he answered tersely. “All that and the conversation I’d have to have with my kids about leavin’ their home and the hit it would be about lettin’ that place go. Not to mention, me talkin’ you into lettin’ your kids hang with their dad so when I worked out my notice with Ralph and before my crew got started on their new jobs, I could give the kids to Rhiannon and take you to the Keys so I’d get a shot at you bein’ in a bikini when I asked you to marry me.”

I took a step back.

His scowl grew dark as it snapped to my feet.

It a flash, it snapped back to me.

“Now what?” he clipped.

“You’ve had a lot on your mind,” I noted.

“Uh…yeah,” he replied sarcastically.

“Why didn’t you share any of it with me?” I asked.

“Like you shared that with me?” He again threw out a hand to the paper from Hillingham.

“Mickey, as dire as it sounded, it didn’t mean anything.”