Soaring (62 page)

“I’m not surprised she didn’t open up upon me sharing an interest in her makeup usage and bare her soul to me. It’ll take time. It’s just a bummer I started my work right when she was going back to her mom.”

“Maybe Rhiannon’ll get in there.”

“Maybe she will.”

And I hoped she would. If Rhiannon was pulling herself together, three adults who loved Aisling and were looking after her were far better than one, that one being a father who loved her but he was also a guy who was uncertain what he was doing.

“Got somethin’ to talk to you about,” Mickey announced.

I stared out at the day, which didn’t know whether to be gray or sunny so it treated us to both at thirty to forty-five minute intervals (at that moment, it was gray).

He sounded serious. Relaxed but serious.

And I didn’t know what could come from Mickey Donovan when he was relaxed but serious.

Realizing I hadn’t said anything, I invited, “Go for it.”

“Last week, Mom and Dad called,” he told me.

This was not a huge revelation. He spoke of his parents often. They had a great relationship. They doted on their grandchildren. Even from far away, they liked to be in the know about their son and his kids, but they weren’t intrusive. However, they did contact Mickey regularly, always when he had his kids and in the evenings so they had a chance to talk to everyone.

“Okay,” I prompted, wondering if he’d told them about me and hoping he had, he’d shared it was serious and going somewhere and now they wanted to come up and meet me.

Then I didn’t hope that because that meant me meeting them and Mickey was so close to them, I’d need to make a good impression. And even if they were also rolling in it, I worried that the heiress next door might not go over too great.

“Told Dad about my plans,” Mickey said into my thoughts.

“Your plans?” I asked.

“Quittin’ Ralph, goin’ into business for myself.”

“Oh,” I mumbled.

“He’s excited about it.”

I smiled at the view. “He would be. It’s exciting.”

“He wants to invest.”

I twisted my neck to look up at him and Mickey adjusted so he could look down at me.

“Really?” I asked.

“Yep,” he answered.

“I…that…” I shook my head slightly. “What do you think of that?”

“Dad lived here near on his whole life too, that bein’ ‘near on’ only because he moved to Florida. Still knows practically the whole town. Him and Mom are friendly, they come back, see people, while they’re gone, they stay in touch. They know Ralph’s reputation and not just from me bitchin’ about workin’ for him for the last fifteen years.”

“Okay,” I said when he stopped talking.

“What I’m sayin’ is, he’s heard folks complaining about Ralph too. He thinks, if I go into business, I’ll hit faster than I thought I would.”

“That’s great,” I remarked.

“He’s also still a member of the Club. He knows he can get them to entertain a bid from me but he thinks he could even get them to consider me as the contractor for that whole project. Their golf course development.”

I felt elated.

Then I deflated.

“I hesitate to mention this, but Boston Stone is also a member of that Club,” I reminded him.

“Yeah, babe, but that Club is about a lot of things and legacy is a big one. They might be racist and Stone’s family may have been in Magdalene awhile, but the Donovans have lived in this town for six generations.”

“That didn’t stop him from getting whatever he presented to the town council signed,” I noted.

“I seriously doubt he shared that whatever-that-was was about him losin’ out against me for you. If he did, they would have laughed in his face.”

This was likely correct.

Mickey kept going, “Not sure I could start out by takin’ on a huge project like that. But I figure I could do some sub-contracting. Roofs on those houses at least. Maybe other shit. You know it wouldn’t be hard for me to put together a crew. If I quit Ralph sooner rather than later, get a few jobs, start to establish a reputation, that could happen.”

I began to get excited again.

“That would be wonderful,” I shared quietly and he grinned.

“Yeah, it would.”

“Are you…okay with taking your dad’s money?” I asked carefully.

“As an investor, yeah,” he replied. “He started by sayin’ he’d give me the rest of my inheritance early, cash flat out that he says is mine. Said he wouldn’t mind seein’ me do something with it, enjoy it while he was still alive. To me, it felt like a handout so I refused. An investment, he has a stake in the company, we arrange it so I can buy him out when I can afford it, that might work.”

I twisted so I was facing him more fully. “What does this mean?”

“Means I got the cake in the bank to quit and get going. You filed the papers. And thank you for that, baby,” he finished softly, giving me a sweet, easy grin.

“You’re welcome, Mickey.” I gave him what I hoped was a sweet, easy grin back, knowing he didn’t have to thank me. I’d go to the end of the earth for him.

His arms squeezed before he continued, “We got the insurance stuff mostly sorted. Just need the company officially founded, decide on which insurance we’re going with. Get letterhead. Business cards. Payroll software. Employee handbook. Get the word out for hires. Line up jobs. Pull together my crew. It’s a lot of work but if I can quit and see to it with cake in the bank to cover my family, that shit’d go a lot faster.”

“And I can help, anything you need,” I offered.

“That’d be awesome, Amy,” he whispered.

“This is really wonderful,” I told him.

He drew me nearer. “Yeah. Rhiannon seems to be getting her head out of her ass. We’ll be hirin’ a full-timer at the department soon, which puts me close to chief, which’ll be more income to cover me as I get the business off the ground.” His voice dipped low. “Got you.”

I melted into him.

He kept speaking, “’Cept whatever’s up with my little girl and every day havin’ to go to a job I hate, the rest of life is good.”

The rest of life was good.

We had to get Mickey out of that job and work on finding out what was troubling Aisling and fix it.

Then the
entirety
of life for Mickey would be good.

And that was the kind of life the kind of man that was Mickey should have in an everyday kind of way.

Life being good.

“I think you should do it,” I told him.

“Even with capital, it’s still a risk,” he told me.

“Yes. I’m sure. And there’ll be worries about that. But I believe in you. Your dad believes in you. Even not having a company set up yet, all those people who call you for patches believe in you. You have all the connections you need. You have an offer of the financial backing you need. Everything is pointing to you doing this, honey. I think you should listen to what the world is telling you and go for it.”

“It fails, nothin’ I can go back to, Amy,” he replied. “Ralph’s pretty much the only game in town and it isn’t lost on him that I’m doin’ those patches. He hasn’t said anything but that keeps goin’ and growin’, he’s gonna get pissed. I quit and compete, he’s not gonna like that. I go down, he won’t take me back.”

“Even if you do patch jobs by yourself and do the chief job, it’s better than you having to go to a job you hate every day for the next fifteen years.”

His eyes strayed to the view.

I slid a hand up his wet chest, his neck, to cup his jaw and regained his attention.

“And it won’t fail,” I told him firmly. “You won’t let it. This means something to you. And I’ve noticed something about you, Mickey Donovan. If something means something to you, you go all out. No fear.”

His eyes dropped to my mouth. “Go all out.”

I shifted against him and repeated, “Go all out.”

“No fear,” he muttered.

“No fear,” I reiterated, my own gaze moving to his mouth, hoping he’d kiss me.

He didn’t.

He shifted me so I was again leaning my back against him.

But then his hands moved.

His lips at my ear, he said, “My heiress needs to hone her organization skills. I got groundwork to lay before I put Ralph’s shit in my rearview and I could use your help.”

If I’d go to the ends of the earth, I’d find him payroll software.

I didn’t give him that information. I didn’t have the concentration (not that I thought we were at a place for me to share that information).

“Like I said,” my words were breathy because his hands were still moving but with intent, “whatever you need.”

“Whatever I need,” he murmured, one hand dipping low, one hand up and curving.

“Mickey,” I whimpered.

“Need my heiress to come in her kickass tub for me.”

“I think…I can…do that,” I stuttered, pressing my hips into his hand.

He rolled his finger on my clit then slid it down so it filled me.

My head dropped to his shoulder.

The fingers of his other hand pinched my nipple.

I gasped.

Mickey started finger fucking me.

Oh God.

So good.

“What about you?” I whispered.

“You’re gonna blow me in your bed after we get outta the tub.”

I absolutely was.

But first, it was my turn.

Mickey didn’t disappoint. He pinched and rolled and rubbed my nipple as he kept finger fucking me. Then he moved his hand to the other nipple and went back to my clit as his mouth started working at my neck.

I squirmed and ground and arched and whimpered, clutching at his thighs, the warm water swirling, the beautiful view forgotten.

“That…keep doing…
that
,” I begged as he added more pressure with some twitching and tugged at my nipple.

“Baby, wanna come in your mouth, stop dickin’ around,” he teased against my neck, but his words were growly and I could feel his hardness at my back.

The idea of that with all I was feeling drove me over the edge and with a gasped, “
Oh God
,” I was soaring.

I barely got my feet back to the ground before the water surged with Mickey pulling us both out of the tub. He did a half-assed towel down of me and the same with him before he tugged me into my room.

He wasted just enough time to light my fire before he pulled me to the bed and on it.

He lay on his back, head and shoulders to the headboard, knees again angled, his beautiful cock rigid, long and thick, lying on his flat belly and I felt a shudder that was like a mini-orgasm just looking at all his power and beauty laid out before me.

I let myself have that then I “dicked around” no further, curling up between his legs, wrapping my hand around his cock and shifting it to my lips.

My eyes went to his.

Heated.

Impatient.

Hungry.

That look in his beautiful eyes all for me.

I slid him deep and lost his eyes as he closed them. I watched his head push into my headboard, his jaw clench, the muscles in his neck tense, the veins bulge as I felt his legs tighten at my sides.

God, he was so beautiful.

He gave me what he gave me in the tub and he gave me that.

So I gave him more.

And I did not mind in the slightest when his hands that had swept up my hair at the sides so he could better watch me go down on him, cupped my head and pushed me down to taking him deep when I heard his groan and he shot down my throat.

When his hands relaxed, I stroked him with my mouth, licked him clean then released him, kissing my way up his chest until I was at his neck.

He wrapped his arms around me, rolled us and covered me with his body.

He lifted his head and looked into my eyes.

“Want lunch?” I asked.

“You still hungry after that?” he teased.

I grinned, lifted up and kissed him.

He kissed me back, it started sweet and got deep before he ended it and belatedly answered my question.

“Definitely could eat.”

“Finger foods,” I whispered.

“What?” he asked.

I looked beyond him to the alarm clock then back to him. “We have four hours until my kids get here, around the same until yours get back. Finger foods we eat in this bed. No muss. No fuss. No preparing. No cleaning. So we have more time, just you and me. It’s no hunting cabin,” I grinned, “but it’ll have to do.”

His eyes warmed on me. “Sounds perfect, baby.”

It absolutely did.

I lifted up to touch my mouth to his and when I was done, he took his cue, rolled off and grabbed my hand to help me out of bed.

He pulled on his jeans. I pulled on my robe. We went into the kitchen, raided it and took back crackers and cheese, chips and salsa, grapes, sodas and napkins. We undressed, got under the covers, munched, kissed, groped, sipped, talked then set aside the food and kept talking but did it with more groping and kissing until we were making love.

And after we finished making love, tangled up together, we started whispering.

Me and Mickey, in bed all day naked, nothing I wanted more.

And the way he did it with me, I had a feeling he felt the same.

A flash of happy for me that lasted an entire day.

Then again, with Mickey, I didn’t get flashes of happy.

He gave that to me regularly.

* * * * *

“Okay, this place is crazy scary but these burgers are freaking
amazing
,” Pippa declared.

It was the next Tuesday evening and Mickey and I were at Tink’s with my children.

It was Mickey’s idea. So when the kids got to my place Sunday night, I chanced telling them Mickey had invited us all out to dinner, taking them to a place his kids enjoyed.

Delightedly, they’d been all for it. Both of them had heard of Tink’s but had not yet been (not surprising, it was not Conrad’s kind of place, though Auden could have given it a go since he had a car, he just hadn’t gotten around to it yet).

So now we were at Tink’s.

The night had gone great. The kids were very welcoming of Mickey and seemed comfortable with him. He was Mickey so he was comfortable back. Conversation was not lacking mostly because Mickey was interested in everything they said and because Auden was more than interested in talking about the fire at the jetty (something I didn’t like discussing but I didn’t let on). Pippa was equally interested in that but mostly in wanting to know when Mickey thought the shops would reopen.