Love 'Em: A Bad Boy Romance (36 page)

Epilogue

We take the floor for our first dance as man and wife.
Mo fits in my arms perfectly. With my heart full and my love for her stronger
than ever, I lean in close and kiss her just below her ear.

She’s flushed and bright. “So, everyone who asks—I’ve been telling
them the
under the stars
proposal is the one I accepted.”

“Oops. I told Slade it was at the baseball game.”

She giggles. “Well, we need to get our stories straight.
There’s no way our children are going to find out how it really happened.”

I stop, pull her into my arms, and kiss her. She tastes of
strawberries and chocolate.

Applause erupts, and Slade calls out, “Hey, no one clinked
their glass with a spoon.”

I flip him the bird, tighten my hold on my girl, and slip my
tongue back into her mouth.

* * *

“Why do they make collars so fucking tight?” I hook a finger
in mine and pull.

Mom tightens her grip on my hand as we twirl around the
dance floor. “But you’re so handsome.”

I grin and return the squeeze to her hand. “You look pretty good
yourself.”

And she does, better than she’s looked in years it seems.

She gives me a one eyebrow quirk. “That’s what having your
dad behind bars and plenty of solid rest and rehab will do for you. I have some
really good reasons to keep it together. I think this time, it’ll stick. ”

Her gaze travels around the room, landing on Rachel and
darting back to me.

The music slows and I give Mom a hug and kiss her on the
cheek. I lean closer to her ear, so only she can hear. “Yes, and soon you’ll
have another reason.”

* * *

Later, I place my hand over Mo’s and we slice the cake.
Weird, all these traditions. But I told Mo whatever she wants.

She smiles up at me, eyes shining. I slide my hand around to
her belly, cupping the almost imperceptible swell there. Her body has changed
since I first touched her, but my desire for her hasn’t waned in the least.

We smile for the photographer.

I whisper, “I love you, Mrs. Jennings.”

She leans against me. “I love you, too.”

Rach stands on the sidelines, waving at us with my chubby
blonde’s tiny hand. Little Katrina’s dimples shine, and her one tooth glistens
while slobber rolls down her chin. Before long, my little green-eyed charmer
will be the big sister, not the baby.

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COMING 2016

* * *

The tumbler turns in the lock and I hold my breath,
waiting.

Two…Three…Four.

Nothing.

I step inside, careful to be quiet. My chest tightens and my
gut urges me to bail. If it weren’t for Sophie and Mom, I’d run.

Leaving my shoes in the entry, I creep into to the living
room. My ears strain for signs someone’s awake. The television is muted, but
its flickering light bounces off the walls, illuminating the figure sprawled on
the sofa.

My pent up breath seeps out. It’s just Mom, not
him
.
I spread a quilt over her, pull her Rosary from her fingers, arranging it on
the coffee table, and turn off the TV. Most nights she passes out on the couch.
It’s been like that since even before my baby sister Lola died.

Stopping at Sophie’s room down the hall, I push open the
door. I stumble over piles of toys to her bed. The nightlight casts long
shadows around me.

She rubs her knuckles over her eyes. “Mom took those pills
again for her somnia. Is she asleep?”

My heart cringes, as it does every time Sophie asks about
Mom. “It’s
in
somnia, Soph. And, yes, she’s sleeping. Seven-year-olds
should be too. That means you, kiddo.”

A door slams. Every muscle in my body grips the nearest
bone. Sophie takes a breath like she’s going to say something, but I cover her
mouth and shush her. We wait, eyes wide. I stare through the dimly lit room.
Was that movement in the crack of light around the door?

Sophie’s jaw clenches under my palm. A crash in the kitchen
is followed by shattering glass, banging cabinet doors, and cursing.

Minutes inch by on their hands and knees. Footsteps come
down the hall, but then they stop and retreat. I count to ten, and then
whisper, “Was he gone all evening?”

“Yeah. Mom said he had a dinner meeting.”

Relief floods my veins. The less he’s around, the better.
Maybe he’ll go straight to bed and leave us alone.

I move Sophie over and climb in next to her. With the tip of
my finger, I brush the hair off her forehead, pushing it behind her ear. Mom
always says how much Sophie looks like me, but other than matching olive
complexions, along with our dark hair and eyes, I can’t see it. Sophie’s
beautiful; I’ve never been anywhere close to beautiful.

Taking a deep breath, I say, “Okay, and this is how it goes:
I once had a penguin named Al.”

She puts her little hand on my cheek and snuggles close. “Al
is a real pal.”

We play our happy game of nonsense and whatever rhymes we
can think of, which generally devolves into gibberish and made-up words that
never existed. Sophie loves this game. It’s perfect for keeping her mind busy
when things get stressful.

Once again, I stay the night in Sophie’s room to guard
against the last person she should need protection from—our father.

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Dear Reader,

I hope you’ve enjoyed LOVE ‘EM.

If you liked this book, please share it with your friends.
The best compliment you can give me is to tell someone how much you like my
work. Please consider giving a review on Amazon, talk with a friend about LOVE
‘EM or one of my other books, or buy a copy. All of these are the highest of
praise to an author. I am forever in your debt should you choose to do so.

Thank you again.

Best regards,

Kelley Harvey