Soaring (Magdalene #2)

“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.”

“Well, you’re fuckin’ tidy,” he shot back strangely. “Had shit to put away in your bathroom and so it wouldn’t crawl up your ass I fucked that up, I opened a drawer, saw that, figured you were hidin’ it from a variety of people, one of them me. And it bein’ worthy of hidin’, I couldn’t know it didn’t mean anything.”

“Well it doesn’t, but you could have shared you found it before you went off and took your inheritance,” I returned. “And in so doing, got stuck in your head about a lot of stuff that was clearly weighing on you that you didn’t share with me.”

“Fucks with the grand announcement I wanted to lay on you when I got it sorted and to a place I could tell you I could take care of you.”

That was sweet but I felt it necessary to reiterate, “You were already taking care of me.”

“In the way you’re used to, Amy,” he returned heatedly.

“Yes, to repeat, you’re already taking care of me in the way I’m used to, Mickey. The only way I need it to be.”

“Right, so that shit happens,” again with flipping his hand to the letter, “and you got a wild hair to buy a Rover and you gotta wait to save for it, if you can get it at all, rather than headin’ out and buyin’ it with cash, that’s not gonna bother you?”

God, why was he not getting this?

“Mickey, I love you!” I was now yelling.

“And I love you,” he ground out. “Since that’s the case, I want you to have it all.”

I threw up my hands. “I have all I need.”

“I want you to have,” he planted his hands on his hips and leaned toward me ominously, “it all.”

“Why?” I asked shrilly. “When I have everything I need.”

“Because you’re worth it.”

I snapped my mouth shut.

Do what I gotta do.

Oh my God.

Because you’re worth it.

Oh. My. God.

“No comeback?” he taunted.

“I love you,” I whispered.

“I know that,” he returned. “That all you got?”

“No,” I replied. “That’s it. Just I love you.”

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