My Irish Mafia King

Chapter 15

Fifteen

LUCY

A surreal feeling grips me as we sit on the private balcony of the restaurant, overlooking the main floor, our eyeline meeting the chandelier. Soft Celtic-style music plays, and banners with nature colors hang from the walls. The restaurant is the sort of place without prices on the menus.

Killian is completely at ease here, smiling over at me… but still with that hungry look glimmering in his eyes. Two big shopping bags rest on a chair close to the table. I got a dress, a new coat, two new pairs of pants and a skirt, as well as the necklace. I tried to tell Killian it was too much… but that just resulted in more spanking.

Is it bad I’m liking it?

“Shall we start with some champagne?” he says.

“Sure,” I reply, “but order some water, too. I don’t want to get drunk.”

“Me neither,” he says. “I need my wits and instincts sharp.”

“But a little bubbly won’t hurt.”

He smiles. “Exactly.”

He orders the drinks, then the waiter tells us to indicate when we’re ready to order our meals.

“What are you thinking?” he asks, as I look around the restaurant, down at the men and women in their fancy suits and dresses.

“Just that fate is a funny thing,” I murmur. “We were the only two people on that part of the mountain. Mom was with the rangers, looking for me, and I thought I was going to be alone out there forever… and then you emerged from the fog. I didn’t even think you were real at first.”

“I was clearing my head, thinking about the future, my place in the Family. It was like fate sent you into my path to prove I could do some good.”

“And now we’re here. We didn’t keep in touch. I bet you never thought about me again.”

“From time to time,” he says. “I hoped you were okay. I hoped that you and your mom were doing well. But I won’t lie, rarely. When I walked into the Crust, it was one hell of a shock.”

“I guess it was different for us…”

I pause when the waiter brings two glasses of champagne and a jug of water. Killian raises the glass. “To tonight… may it last forever.”

I laugh. “To tonight.”

I might laugh, but there’s a bitter edge tinging the toast. Tonight is all we have, all that’s guaranteed. Once the war starts, or even after the war… he won’t want me anymore. He doesn’t think I can handle the mafia life. Can I?

“You were saying it was different for you?” Killian says, taking a sip of champagne.

I swallow down some bubbles of my own. “Yeah. The day I got lost, the day you found me and helped me reunite with Mom, that was when everything changed. She thought Dad had taken me. It turns out he was getting shitfaced at a bar. But for those few hours, she thought she’d lost me. That was when she plucked up the courage to leave him for good. He stayed in Ireland, turning the holiday into his permanent home. We never saw him again. She spoke fondly of you toward the end.”

“I wish I could’ve met her again,” Killian says. “I remember her as a loving, determined woman who was doing her best.” He picks up his napkin and reaches over, dabbing my cheek as a tear fell.

“Sorry,” I murmur.

“Don’t apologize for being human,” he says. “You must miss her a lot. She would’ve been proud of you, Lucy. If she saw what you’ve done with the bakery, working so hard, running the business alone, all while dealing with that Shane crap. If you need to cry, cry. I can’t imagine losing my mother.”

“Thank you,” I say. “Are you close with your parents?”

“I was close with my father before the car crash,” he says. “And yeah, I’m close with my mom. She’s an amazing woman. Kind, caring, supportive.”

I raise my glass. “To our mothers.”

I almost tell him I hope I get to meet his, but that would mean crossing a line better left uncrossed.

“What are you thinking of ordering?” I ask.

“What I want isn’t on the menu,” he says.

“Do lines like that work on all your girlfriends?” I tease, raising my hand to flash the turned-inward Claddagh ring.

“I don’t have girlfriends,” he says.

“Not even women who are already involved in the mob? That’s why you don’t want me, becau?—”

“I never said I didn’t want you,” he says sternly. “Whenever I reference this having an expiration date, don’t think, even for a goddamn second, it’s what I want. But it’s what has to happen.”

“Are you dodging the question?” I say. “Surely, you date.”

“Do you?”

“I’m busy with the bakery… and I’ve never found the right person. Now, your turn.”

“I’ve been on dates,” he says. “But I don’t date per se. The women from that life… they all have something to prove. They look at me, they see the Callahan prince. They see a man with power, even if I’ve chosen not to wield it. That was why I enjoyed our morning ritual so much. To you, I was just another man.”

“You were never just anything,” I murmur. Then quickly add, “They do sharing boards for two. Boxty bites, Dublin coddle skewers, all with an Irish theme. What’d you think?”

“Delicious,” he says, setting a skewer down, then looking at me like he thinks I’d be even tastier. “When this is over, what are you going to do?”

“Run the bakery.”

“But in the future. A woman as determined as you, you must have big plans. Where do you see yourself in five years?”

I laugh. “Why has this suddenly turned into a job interview?”

“I can’t help being interested.”

“I’d like to open more bakeries, franchise the Crust, or maybe work some more on my designs. I currently sell the clovers and the leprechauns, but I’ve been playing with trying to make a rainbow which isn’t absolutely loaded with sugar and which, you know, looks like a rainbow.”

He smiles, gazing at me, seeming genuinely interested. “And what about a family?”

I look down at the table. “Now you sound like my mom.”

“She asked if you were going to have kids?”

“It was her main concern before she passed. She didn’t want my childhood to scar me, to force me to be alone.”

“What did you tell her?”

“Killian…”

“What?”

I lay my fork down with a clatter. "Why are you asking me about the future when you seem determined you can't be in it?"

"I want you to be okay. I want to know if you have plans. I just want..."

Maybe that's what this comes down to. We both just want... but he's trying to be the mature one, trying to make me see sense, without even asking if I think I can tolerate life in his mafia world.

"Mom didn't need to work so hard to persuade me," I tell him. "I've always wanted kids. For as long as I can remember, I've wanted a family. When Dad was hurting Mom, when I was really little, I remember thinking that when I had kids, their dad would never act like that."

"How many do you want?"

I laugh, but it sounds more like a sob. Does he know what he's doing? Whenever I've thought about this future for the past six months, it's been with Killian. Sure, they were crazy daydreams, but that was before we kissed, before we touched and bonded.

"I've always wanted a big family," I tell him. "What about you?"

"The same," he replies. "Though I've always assumed it'll never happen. If I have kids, they'll be born into the Family, with a capital F."

"Maybe if there was a king who could make that a not-so-bad thing..."

"There was. My grandad, my dad..."

"Killian, what is it?" I ask when he gets a faraway look in his eyes.

"Nothing," he says.

I reach across the table, taking his hand. "Don't lie to me."

"It's about the mob, Lucy."

"And you think I can't handle it? I survived my dad, my mom's passing, and months of Shane extorting and threatening me. I think I can survive a freaking conversation."

He nods. "Fair enough. Sorry, a stór. I was thinking of my grandad, the day he had a heart attack. Before he couldn't speak anymore, he kept saying, 'Owen, Owen...' Owen's my uncle's second-in-command. At the time, I thought my grandad wanted to see his friend, maybe speak to him about something concerning the business. But—I don't know..."

I squeeze his hand. "You can talk to me."

"I'm thinking I've been played," he says. "Because now that I think about it, my grandad sounded scared. Maybe he wasn't asking to see his friend; maybe he was warning us. But I can't start a war based on feelings... and there's nothing to be done about it tonight. You don't need to worry about this."

I remove my hand. "You might not be able to protect me forever, Killian."

"That's where you're wrong," he says huskily. "Even if I have to let you go, I'll never stop protecting you."

Hello, mixed signals. It's nice to see you again. Not...