Epilogue
SCOTT
The Following December
“And she’s out!” Cricket threw his arms up in the air, pumping his fists hard and fast, but in his celebration, one of his feet landed on the pitch-length slippery wet tarp. “Fuck!” He did the splits and grabbed his crotch halfway down, rolling onto his back. “Motherfucker.”
I laughed from where I stood to the side of the tarp and wiped my forehead. I was shirtless and my entire body was covered in a sheen of sweat. The summer sun bore down on my skin like a blazing heat gun, but it was late in the afternoon, giving us some relief. Mozzies were already buzzing around us, looking for a feed of fresh blood, and there were cheers from a few houses down. Everyone was celebrating Christmas in some way or another. We’d been at Skippy’s home since seven this morning.
“Language,” Melanie, my sister-in-law, called toward Cricket as she set down a platter of nibblies on the outdoor table. Maureen, our cousin, was right behind her with the fly net to cover the food so no blowies could get to it while we were still playing Slip ’N Slide cricket. They were both dressed adequately in sundresses with no sleeves. Anyone wearing anything heavier were idiots. “There’s kids here.”
I held in a snort. Skippy’s daughters were hard-hitting little girls who probably knew more curse words than me. They had to be because while Skip liked to pretend he was an upstanding gentleman, he swore more than a sailor.
“That’s bullshit,” Luna shouted toward Cricket, throwing the bat down and crossing her arms. Considering she was standing on the tarp that had just claimed Cricket, she had the balance of a bloody ballerina. “It didn’t even nick the stumps.” She nodded at the three stumps behind her. Together, they formed the wicket, which had another two small pieces of wood on top that were officially called the bails. Some of the brown hair she’d shoved under her cap came loose, cascading over her shoulder. “No one saw it hit.”
“Language, Luna.” Melanie heaved a defeated sigh and wiped her forehead with the back of her wrist. The scent of the mud crabs she and Maureen were cooking drifted out to the backyard and my stomach grumbled, reminding me I hadn’t eaten since lunch. It was nearing on six, but the sun was still high in the sky.
Luna was eleven but had the attitude of a thirty-year-old woman, and she was incredibly smart, too. I’d talked to her numerous times over phone and video since I’d moved to America, but this was the first occasion since she was one that I’d seen her in person. It was the same for her sister, Dove, who was seven, though I’d never met her in person until this trip.
Getting here took a lot of planning and convincing, but it was Killough who pulled it all together. When Deer told his uncle that we wanted to have Christmas in Australia with my family and Brynlee, Killough put together an entourage of bodyguards and sent out a warning to the Aussie Italians through the American mafias—stay away or else . I had a feeling Valussi would listen, too. He didn’t want to piss off his friends in New York City, and he wouldn’t want to anger Killough, either. The Company had a lot more firepower than they did.
That didn’t mean I was completely at ease, though. It was difficult for me not to glance over my shoulder every so often, just to check there wasn’t an army of mafiosos stampeding into the yard with guns clutched in their hands.
Luna spun around toward Deer, who stood behind the wicket. Her feet slipped, and Deer reached out to grab her hands to stop her from falling. “Tell them. Tell them it didn’t hit the stumps.”
Backyard cricket was a lot easier than the real game. It came down to one person bowling a hard ball toward the stumps , three sticks shoved into the ground. The batter, who in this case was Luna, had to try to hit the ball and defend the stumps. If she hit it, she could run to the other end of the tarp, where another batter waited to run as well. The more runs you earned before the bowler hit the stumps, or a fielder like me caught the ball in midair, the better chance you had at winning. The most runs won.
Deer’s eyes widened and his mouth opened and closed. He shot me a pleading look, but I didn’t miss the grinning curl of his lips. He’d been having fun today, and I hadn’t heard him laugh so hard in the year we’d been together. Being relaxed suited him, and so did the deep blue footy shorts Skippy had given to him to borrow at lunch after he’d realized his clothes weren’t good for the heat. “I think it might have?”
Luna stepped off the slippery tarp and threw up her arms in defeat. “Ugh. Boo!”
“Sorry.” Deer rubbed his flushed chest, but I didn’t know if the action was because of the sun or the embarrassment that attention had been turned onto him.
“Come here, my sweet fawn,” I called to him, waving at him to head my way. “You need more sunscreen.”
“We’ll pause the game while you get a touch-up.” Skippy—one of the fielders—winked at Deer, who laughed and shook his head as he walked toward me. I wrapped an arm around his shoulders and guided him toward the patio.
Skip’s property was surrounded by Killough’s men. A few days ago when we’d arrived, they’d been dressed in suits, but as soon as they’d discovered how hot it was, they’d changed to more tropical clothing. I went and bought them each Hawaiian shirts and matching boardies, and I laughed like mad every time I peeked a look at them.
One of the head honchos, Tobias, had a particular favorite of mine that I’d bought for him specifically. It had multicolored squares on the material, with each section having a different cock—flaccid and hard alike. He’d stuffed it in his suitcase for later. He wasn’t wearing it now because of the kids, but he was a champ who’d promised me he would put it on if we ever went to an event that involved adults only. Today, his shirt was light blue and full of yellow rubber duckies. Luna loved it.
Tobias nodded at us from where he stood near the fence that turned the front yard into the back, and I grinned in return.
“Turn around.” I snatched the sunscreen from the table and faced Deer as he did as I’d instructed. I squeezed a good amount of cream onto his back, and he gasped at the sudden coldness against his skin. Chuckling, I laid a kiss on the top of his spine.
“It makes me feel really oily.” He pouted at me over his shoulder.
“Better oily than cooked like a mud crab. You should go have a look at them in the pot of boiling water. They’re really red.” I slathered up the expanse of his back and rubbed the cream in a decent amount until he was covered. Then, I grasped his arm and turned him around so his chest was facing me, and I did the same to his front. I danced my fingers over his soft belly, right above his waistband, and he wriggled, laughing.
“Stop it.” His cheeks flushed, and this time it definitely wasn’t from the sun. “Your family is here.”
I rolled my eyes. “They don’t care.”
Maureen plopped down in the chair near us. She had a floppy white hat on and a pair of huge black sunnies slotted over her eyes. With a margarita in her hand, she was a happy lady. Bryn was right behind her, taking a seat beside her. They’d been getting along well, and it was nice to see Deer’s best friend feel at home straight away. Bryn couldn’t stop smiling and she looked lovely in a yellow sundress.
Maureen waved a manicured finger at us. “It’s nothing we haven’t seen. And you make Gabby smile. First man he’s brought home, too.”
Bryn giggled and raised her mimosa to Maureen’s glass, and they clicked them together. “Deer’s never been happier. They make quite the pair.”
I rolled my eyes. “Are you done gossiping about us?”
Bryn lifted her mimosa, tipping it slightly toward me in acknowledgement. “We’re just getting started, Scotty. Maureen’s only up to your teen years. I have a lot more to learn.”
Deer laughed. “Make sure to fill me in.”
“Absolutely not. Come here.” I grasped Deer’s wrist and yanked him closer, then slapped a glob of sunscreen on his cheek.
“Ew.” He scrunched up his nose. How could one man be so bloody adorable? And he was mine. I couldn’t help but kiss the tip of his nose and it earned me a pout. “Why?”
“Because I can.” I dabbed some of the sunscreen where I’d kissed and wiped it across the expanse of his skin. Every inch needed to be covered. I didn’t want him in pain during any upcoming days in Australia because he was blistering. “You need a hat, too.”
“I don’t,” Deer protested, patting his dark hair. It’d grown longer in the last year and suited him. The length also meant I had more to grab when I wanted to kiss him.
I waved my arm toward my nieces. “Hey, Luna, Dove, what are the rules about being in the sun?”
It was Luna who answered. She jammed her hands on her hips and raised her chin. “Slip, slop, slap! Slip on a shirt, slop on sunscreen, and slap on a hat!”
“Here.” Maureen snatched one of the caps someone had thrown on the table and flung it toward me. I grabbed it with a smile of thanks and slotted it over the waterfall of Deer’s hair.
“There. My safe little fawn.” I laid a gentle kiss on his lips. “The sun here is dangerous, all right? Gotta stay healthy. My dad’s brother and his friends still get cancers cut out of their skin because of all the time they spent in the sun without protection. It’s not pleasant.”
He gave me a soft smile. “Yes, Gabby.”
I smacked him on the arse, and a laugh spilled from his lips, lighting up his entire face as he spun and raced back out to the cricket wickets. I shook my head and chased him, ignoring the wolf whistling that followed me from Bryn and Maureen. I didn’t miss the quirk of Tobias’s mouth, either. Traitor.
“Sure you don’t want to play, T-Man?” I threw the words over my shoulder at him as I headed back toward the game.
“No, sir. I’m too busy protecting your ass,” Tobias answered in his heavy Brooklyn accent, not holding back his grin anymore. “Maybe next time when someone isn’t trying to kill you.”
“That’s living a boring life.” I waved my hand at him.
It was Deer’s turn to bat and mine to bowl, so I took the ball off Cricket, who’d since pulled himself together.
“Get him, Gabby.” Cricket patted me on the shoulder as he walked past, heading out to take his post as a fielder farther away.
Beside me at the wicket on my end was Dove, but she wasn’t paying attention to the game. Her eyes were caught on a cat walking on top of the brick fence that divided Skippy’s yard from the next. Her blond curls were pulled up into a ponytail and she had a floppy pink hat on to protect her from the sun, as well as a T-shirt and a pair of shorts. It was much too hot for anything else.
I nudged her gently on the arm, and she startled, giggling when she glanced at me. “Sorry, Uncle Gabby. I saw Jinx.”
I looked back at the black-and-white cat where it was perched on the brick, watching us with an inquisitive stare. “That’s Jinx, I presume.”
She nodded eagerly, curls bouncing under her hat. She pushed to tiptoe, and I grasped her wrist before she could slip on the tarp. “I’m trying to get Daddy to adopt a cat.”
“No,” Skippy called from where he stood on the other side of the line of tarp, his arms crossed. “No cats.”
I snorted and leaned down to whisper. “Keep nagging him, sweetheart. He’ll give in.”
She giggled harder and gave me another enthusiastic nod before she turned toward the pitch again, ready to run if Deer hit the ball.
I took steps back until I was at an adequate distance to run and bowl the ball. “You ready, sweet fawn?” I called out to him.
His bare feet slid on the tarp as he tried to keep himself on them. He managed to get into position, raising the bat high over his shoulder. This wasn’t baseball and cricketers didn’t hold the bat the way he was, but I didn’t lecture him. This was a game for fun.
“Lower your bat, Uncle Deer,” Luna yelled, her hands cupped around her mouth. “You’ll never hit it like that. This isn’t baseball.”
Deer froze, eyes widening, but in his surprise, he stepped wrong and with no grip under his feet, nothing was saving him. He fell backward and hit the wicket, knocking the three stumps and the bails down. He landed on his back on the grass.
Laughing, I dropped the ball and ran toward him. “You’re out ,” I teased as I fell to my knees beside him. “Did she give you a fright with the whole Uncle Deer thing?”
Deer sat up on his elbows, his hat halfway knocked off his head as he stared up at me. “She did call me that, didn’t she? I heard it.” He glanced toward Luna, who was giggling manically while her father tickled her sides. Then, Deer smiled and his attention slid back to me. “She considers me her uncle.”
“She does.” I plopped a kiss on his mouth, chasing his taste just long enough for Cricket to yell in protest about icky romance. “Because you are my partner, Fawn, and my forever. My family is yours.”
His expression softened, and my stomach fluttered. “And mine is yours. Well, Fionn and Sloan and Conall and Bell, too. You can call Sloan uncle, too, if you want.” His grin warped into something wicked.
“How about no?” I drawled, and it sent Deer into a bout of laughter. He fell back against the grass, and I petted his forehead, my love for him expanding my heart until I thought it’d explode. I never wanted anything else in my life because I had him. He was all I’d ever need.
“I love you,” I whispered, nuzzling his cheek. “So very much.”
His chuckling died and softness overtook his features again. The skin around his beautiful brown eyes crinkled as he smiled. “I love you, too.” He hooked his hand over my head and dragged me down for another kiss.
Cricket gagged loudly. “Come on, lover boys! We want to play! It’ll be New Year’s Eve by the time you’re done.”
I snorted. “We better give them what they want.”
“Yeah, let’s go play cricket with our family.”