Soaring (Magdalene #2)(129)

And that would eat at him.

It was then I understood why people like me partnered with people like me. Why my mother drilled it into my head at every opportunity just what kind of man I needed to find.

Conrad had fit that bill not only because he was a neurosurgeon who made an excellent salary, but because he came from money. His family was not as wealthy as mine but they were far from hurting. Like me, he’d lived a privileged life and had his own trust fund. He started his practice without crippling student loans to repay because his parents had paid for every penny of his education.

Before I made the decision to move on with Mickey, I needed to know down to my soul that I could give him what he needed and I could accept what he could give me.

It was then I thought of waking up in his bed in his masculine bedroom in his family house in a very nice neighborhood, doing it with Mickey making love to me.

Sure, his fireplace was not as stylish as mine and my daybed would not match his furniture.

But I’d go to sleep in Mickey’s bed with Mickey and wake up with Mickey. A Mickey I hoped was falling in love with me. A Mickey who would never cheat on me. A Mickey who teased me and annoyed me and got me deals on cars I didn’t need because I could afford to overpay. A Mickey who protected me, and even when we were fighting and the sex started rough and distant, it was fabulous and we ended up connected in more ways than just physically.

I had had the partner I was supposed to have and he nearly destroyed me.

And it shook me tremendously to understand that if the good I got from Mickey kept going, got better, I’d give up everything to keep it.

This shook me because the problem with all of that was convincing Mickey to believe it and getting him past any concerns he had about sacrifices I was willing to make to have a man at my side who truly cared, who looked out for me, who I enjoyed annoying me, who made me laugh, made me happy and who was phenomenal in bed.

“Amy,” he called when I didn’t speak.

“Do you understand that will always be just what I need?” I asked.

“I think that’s dawning on me.”

“If this works,” I whispered, “I get to go all out for Christmas. Birthdays, we keep it real. I don’t want to one-up you or make you feel anything but good about what we give the kids and I don’t want you competing with what we give each other. But Christmas, just Christmas, I get to go crazy and we can say it’s from Santa.”

“Crazy in the sense checkin’ off more than a few items on a wish list is a crazy where I can deal. Crazy in the sense you buy each kid a Porsche and take us all on a family cruise of the Caribbean on the staffed yacht you buy me, no.”

“Do you want a yacht?”

“Do you know how steep Magdalene Harbor slip fees are?”

“No.”

“Just sayin’, no, I don’t want a yacht or even a dingy, I gotta pay slip fees and it sits there with me not usin’ it because I’m busy working, with my kids or f*ckin’ my woman.”

I started giggling but stopped abruptly and called, “Mickey?”

He didn’t answer. He just tightened his arms around me.

So I kept going.

“I have a lot. I can have most anything I want. But there are only five things in the world that mean so much to me I’d do anything to keep. Auden. Olympia. Lawrie. Robin. And now…you.”

He moved then, sliding me off his cock and shifting to fall back at the same time turning me so when he was on his back in the bed, my weight was on him, chest to chest.

He slid his hands into my hair on either side to hold it away from my face.

“She didn’t,” he whispered.

“I’m sorry?” I asked.

“She didn’t do anything to keep me.”

I lifted a hand to his stubbly cheek and said softly, “Mickey.”

“Do not take from that I got feelings for her. I don’t. But she burned me, Amy. I heard you about it bein’ an illness but in her case, it’s her that had to find the strength to beat back the symptoms, even if she’ll never have a cure. Already told you I had a woman I couldn’t give what she needed, now you get how deep she scarred me. And I guess it’s eatin’ me I got one I like havin’ that needs nothing from me.”

I stiffened on top of him and said, “Mickey, I think I told you—”

“You did, baby,” he said gently. “But that shit has to sink through scar tissue that’s tough and runs deep. So you gotta keep gettin’ in my face, kickin’ my ass and makin’ that statement until it digs through.”

I glared at him, shifting my hand to his neck and declaring, “I think I’d rather kick her ass.”

“Please don’t do that, Amy. You do, she’ll think it’s part of my grand scheme.”

I said nothing even though I was happy to see Mickey was grinning.

Considering his mood seemed to have improved, I demanded, “Do I get Christmas?”

“You get Christmas,” he agreed.

“Thank you,” I snapped, though, I was not only glad he gave me Christmas, I was glad we both thought we’d be together at Christmas, that “we” including Mickey.

He kept grinning. “Told the guys. They’re pretty happy about the new shit that’s coming.”

“Of course they are,” I returned. “It’s a sixty inch TV. A woman is happy with six inches. For a man to get happy, it has to be sixty.”