Soaring (Magdalene #2)(57)
Author: Kristen Ashley

This made me happy.

And as I opened the door, I hoped by all that was holy what lay behind it would make me happy too.

I looked up to Mickey’s face, caught his expression and froze, the happiness leaking right out of me.

He said nothing, just moved inside in a way I was forced to move back. Once he got in, he stopped and so did I.

He closed the door and turned back to me.

“Hey,” he said softly.

“Hey, Mickey,” I replied in the same tone.

“Gotta get back to my kids,” he told me.

But, he’d just arrived.

“I—”

“Rhiannon didn’t show.”

I stared in shock.

His ex was supposed to be at dinner?

This knowledge forced a variety of thoughts to tumble through my head, including the fact he’d kissed me at the restaurant and one of his options after our kiss had included joining them—joining them for a dinner that would be consumed with his kids and ex-wife.

I also thought of something I hadn’t noticed. That they were at a four-top and they’d had their menus when Bradley and I arrived.

They’d also had them when we’d left.

But the priority thought that pushed all others aside was that Cillian’s mother didn’t come to his birthday dinner.

“Oh no,” I breathed, getting closer and lifting a hand to place it on his chest. “She was coming?”

“We have an agreement,” he said shortly, looking strange, speaking strange, like he was controlling something but only barely. “So the kids wouldn’t feel all the loss her bullshit could make them feel, we’d do what we could to give them their family on days that were special. Not goin’ all out, shit like her sleepin’ over Christmas Eve, which could give them ideas. But at the very least birthday dinners, Christmas dinner, Thanksgiving, we’d have them together. If one of us found someone, that’d be part of the deal and whoever that was would have to get that. We’ve been divorced a year and a half, separated a year more than that, and this has worked. She’s never bailed on our kids.”

“So,” I started cautiously, “did she call? Explain—”

“Oh yeah, the bitch called,” Mickey interrupted me to growl viciously.

His tone frightened me but I forced myself to stay in his space and keep my hand light on his chest, even though he wasn’t touching me and he was holding himself in that strange way he’d been speaking.

“That doesn’t sound good,” I noted quietly.

“It wasn’t,” he confirmed. “You haven’t seen it, but when she gets Cill, she fucks ’im up. He gets wound up, acts out, comes to me. Takes a day or two, but I give him what he needs, he settles in. He goes to her for her week, she unravels that, so when I get him back, he’s gone again. Vicious cycle. So tonight, the longer it took for her to show, he knew, they knew.”

“They knew what?” I asked carefully when he said no more.

“That she goes on benders.”

I swallowed a gasp as Mickey kept talking.

“When we were together, I covered her ass. Told myself the kids didn’t get it. That was a lie. They see everything. Worse, they feel it. Didn’t happen a lot but it happened too fuckin’ much for me. After the one I decided would be her last, she came home, I had her bags packed. Told her to kick the booze or get the fuck out. She told me she didn’t have a problem even though she was so hungover, she looked about eighty. I told her if she didn’t get her disappearing from our family home without warning for three days so she could get hammered was a problem, she needed to get her shit and get out. Then she grabbed her shit and walked right out.”

I got closer and whispered, “Mickey.”

“After I got shot of her, she pulled it together, never did it when she had the kids. Never left our kids to fend for themselves. Never missed a special meal. But we were at the restaurant twenty minutes before you got there, Amy, she was supposed to meet us there, and she hadn’t showed. Fifteen minutes after you left, after the fourth text I couldn’t hide sending the bitch to find out where the fuck she was, Cill started losing it. Then he lost it and threw a tantrum. Took him outside to calm him down, got him to do that, but he wanted to leave. We left, went to get fuckin’ burgers for my boy’s birthday, ’cause that was all he was up for. Got home, started to do cake and presents, the bitch called. She called Ash’s phone. Cill knew it was her, grabbed it before my girl could save him that shit, and he got a birthday call from a mother who was totally shitfaced.”

I felt tears fill my eyes.

Oh, Cillian.

“Honey,” I whispered, getting even closer, my hand now pressing.

“He was good with her, my boy’s good with his mom, but he got off the phone, went wild. Threw the cake Ash made for him against the wall and slammed into his room. We had words, he’s still not calmed down, but I’m givin’ him time. I gotta get back to him because I gotta shape him up and sort out Rhiannon’s mess. Again.”

“Okay, then go,” I invited.

“We gotta talk.”

That didn’t sound promising.

But right then, not one thing was about me.

“I’m not going anywhere,” I told him.

“Best kiss I ever had,” he told me.

I drew in a sharp breath, those five words thrilling down my throat, to my belly, straight to the tips of my toes.

“Want more,” he went on. “You with me?”

I nodded and just stopped myself from doing it humiliatingly enthusiastically.

“Good,” he stated curtly. “We talked. I sort out my boy, we’ll talk more.”

“Okay, Mickey.”

He bent abruptly and touched his mouth to mine.

His lips were firm at the same time soft and he wore no cologne, but he smelled heavenly.

He lifted his head but he did it also lifting his hand, and finally, he touched me.

He did this cupping my jaw and sweeping his thumb along my cheek.

He said nothing, just touched me sweetly and stared into my eyes.

I said nothing back, just stood close and let him.

Then he said, “Call you, baby.”

“Okay, Mickey,” I repeated.

His lips tipped up in a preoccupied grin that was still amazing before he let me go, turned to the door and disappeared through it.

Chapter Twelve

Everything I’d Ever Need

When I got home from Dove House the next day, I went back out and grabbed my mail.