Rake: A Dark Boston Irish Mafia Romance (The Carneys Book 1) Page 19

  “It’s antique,” he says, standing up and kissing my hand, and then the scar on the back of my wrist.

  “It looks like a flower,” I murmur. The center diamond is square, and a halo of smaller diamonds encircle it, except for two raised stones at the edges of the metal band, which are a rich purple.

  He laughs. “Good eye. It’s a floral motif ring from the Edwardian period.” He traces my hand and points out the purple stones. “These are purple sapphires. I remember you told me your grandmother said you looked good in purple.”

  I start sobbing like a maniac, throwing myself at Finn. “Thank you,” I say. “I love you so much.” I press a thousand kisses to his face.

  “You were the one who said I was a genius,” he murmurs, finding my lips and kissing me deeply. “What kind of genius would I be if I didn’t seal the deal on the love of my life?”

  “Well, when you put it that way…” I kiss him again.

  “Now that the river is cleaner, we could probably get married right on the banks,” Finn says.

  “Oh God.” I give a little shudder.

  “No? Well, I’m sure we’ll come up with something good together.”

  Of that I couldn’t be more sure.

  Epilogue Two – Finn

  One year later

  “Swanky joint,” Rory says, adjusting his tie in the mirror of the office we’re getting ready in.

  “I know a guy.”

  It’s mine and Sasha’s wedding day, and we’re getting married in the Athenaeum. Once I got my doctorate, in record time, the director begged me to come on as a curator, historian and researcher.

  It’s a fun contrast to the work I do at the casino, though I’ve stayed with that work to keep me balanced and to keep an eye on my father. Our staff is loyal in a way that baffles him.

  Amazing how far just treating people equitably and with respect goes. He could learn something from that, but he won’t.

  I’m glad I’d let myself learn the lessons Sasha offered to teach me. I hope I’ve given back to her too in some small way.

  “Time to get to the front, fellas,” Patrick says, slapping me on the shoulder. “Unless you think this has been some long-term scam your lady is running?”

  “Jimbo probably bet something on that,” Callan says. He smiles knowingly at me. Our long-term scam would be coming to fruition soon enough.

  Sasha wouldn’t hurt me like that, but sometimes I still can’t believe this is real. That she and I are together, and that our lives have expanded so beautifully. I’d resigned myself to living in bitterness. What a revelation to move beyond that.

  I take my place at the front of the hall. It’s a small wedding—only forty or so people. I shift nervously in my tuxedo.

  What if she’s not here? a nasty part of my brain whispers. What if she finally decided you and your complications aren’t worth it?

  Thanks a lot, Patrick. Great best man work, there.

  He’s standing behind me, and it’s not helping.

  When the bridal march starts, I hold my breath.

  Benjamin walks his sister down the aisle. Their father died a few months after our engagement. It was unsurprising, but still difficult.

  Sasha’s gown’s lace bodice hugs her curves and waist, and the skirt is flowy, but not bulky. It’s perfect, she’s perfect.

  Jamilah helps her tuck her train behind her, and I lift the lace veil from her beautiful face.

  Dr. Smith had agreed to officiate for us. After Sasha had told me how firmly he’d advocated for her, he rose even more in my estimation. He’d been a different kind of father figure for me, and I think about the conversation Sasha and I’d had after we’d had sex that first night in the casino hotel.

  What would we have been like if we’d been born into different families? Someone like Dr. Smith would’ve shaped me into a better man early on, but then I wouldn’t have met Sasha.

  Life is full of unexpected pain, but also unimaginable gifts.

  And one of those unimaginable gifts stands in front of me, beaming angelically.

  I barely remember our vows. But I promise to live every minute of my life trying to be worthy of her, of her love.

  When Dr. Smith says the magic words, I kiss my beautiful bride. My beautiful wife. Everyone claps, and we’re supposed to start the recessional, but I can’t move, afraid of disrupting the magic of this moment.

  Sasha squeezes my hand. I look at the band on my hand that matches the smaller band on hers.

  I still feel like I’m getting away with something.

  She stands on her toes, and I bend down so she can whisper in my ear. “I’m wearing garters again.”

  Well, fuck.

  We manage to get through the reception without my ripping off that incredible dress of hers, but once we get to our honeymoon suite at the Four Seasons it’s all I can do to get through all those tiny buttons to see what she’s wearing underneath.

  It’s a white lacy corset that pushes up her gorgeous breasts, with garters on the end that hold up white silky stockings. Her panties hug her round ass, and I can’t wait to get her out of them.

  She’s just as eager, stripping off my clothes, and soon I have her underneath me. I plunge deep inside as she wraps her legs around my waist, meeting each of my thrusts with ardent fervor. She cries out my name as she comes, and I’m right behind her. We collapse together in a heap on the oversized king bed.

  I rest my head on her breasts, and she strokes my hair. “That was so good,” she purrs.

  “I was afraid you wouldn’t show up,” I blurt out. “Just for a second.”

  She massages my scalp, moving her fingers in slow circles, before gently rubbing my temples. My eyes drift shut.

  “I love you so much, Finn,” she says. “I don’t want a life without you in it. I promise you that.”

  “I know it wasn’t based in any kind of reality,” I murmur. “But every day with you has been so amazing that I keep worrying I’ll wake up one day and find out I’ve dreamed it and I’m back living on spite.”

  She draws her hands through my hair. “That won’t happen. You’re my family, Finn. You and Benjamin.”

  There’s a wistfulness to her voice that makes me open my eyes.

  “Are you okay?” I ask, rolling over to face her.

  “Yeah,” she says.

  But her tone hasn’t changed.

  “What’s wrong, love?” I ask.

  “Nothing, well not exactly. I know we haven’t talked about children. I mean other than the story you told me about your father and that girl...”

  “That was something very different,” I say.

  “I know,” she says. “I know. I just don’t ever want you to feel like I’m trying to trap you into anything.”

  “If we ever have children, they’ll be wanted, Sasha. And we’ll want them for who they are. Not for who we think they should be or what they can do for us.”

  She’s still quiet. I slide up the bed so I’m beside her now and tease a blonde curl out of her eyes.

  “Love,” I say, tipping her chin up. “Are you trying to tell me something?”

  “It must’ve been an accident,” she says. “We always use condoms. I don’t know what happened.”

  Does she not want a baby with me?

  “Finn, I was so excited when I found out, but then I was afraid. I don’t want to…”

  I interrupt her with a kiss. “Sasha,” I say, laughing. “I want this baby. I want our baby.”

  She throws her arms around me. We both have our insecurities, still. But that’s just a part of being human.

  “What if it’s twins?” I say. “Twins run in my family.”

  “Don’t say that,” she laughs. “What do you think Grandpa Jimbo would say?”

  I let out an ungentlemanly snort. “Grandpa Jimbo. Jesus.”

  “If we have a girl, can we name her Goldie, after my grandma?”

  “We’re having twins so you can name the girl and I’ll name the boy.
”

  “Finn!” she shouts, swatting at me. “We’re not having twins!”

  But I’m right. We do. Goldie and Nathaniel after her grandma and my favorite author. Sasha refuses to let me name our son Hawthorne. She’s probably right about that, just like I was right about the twins.

  They run in the family, and now we have a family all our own.

  And it couldn’t be more perfect.

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