Soaring (Magdalene #2)(78)
“You’re not the only one with a legacy, Amy,” he shot at me, patience definitely waning. “That fishing company my brothers run is Maine Fresh Maritime. The fillets and fish sticks you can find in the green, white and orange box in your local grocer’s freezer.”
My mouth dropped open.
“Yeah,” he grunted. “That’s why my dad could drop a shit ton on selling his house to me because that was part…part of my inheritance. I coulda been a part of that but I didn’t want a desk job. I wanted to fight fires. I wanted to stay in Magdalene. I wanted nothin’ but that and eventually a wife and kids sittin’ around a dinner table. I tried to work the boats, take my stake of that legacy in a way that worked for me. Found bein’ on a boat for weeks cut into my time chasin’ skirt while also lookin’ for a wife. So I quit and volunteered doin’ what I love to do and found a way to have a life, and when the time came, take care of my family.” His eyes moved to the nursing home then back to me, doing this to hammer his point home but he also did it verbally. “You get that, Amy?”
This heretofore unknown parallel of our lives was shocking.
And enthralling.
I obviously didn’t share I thought that with Mickey, but he didn’t give me a chance to because he wasn’t finished speaking.
“I could go to Bar Harbor and walk into Frank’s office, ask for a job, get it and make ten times more than I do right now just for bein’ his brother. That’s my choice not to do that. That’s my choice not to give my kids what they could get outta that. You made another choice that’s different, but it’s yours. Though, don’t think I know a single soul who might come close to getting me and my choices, except you.”
“This is true, Mickey, I get you. But that doesn’t mean one thing. That’s impressive. Maine Fresh Maritime, very impressive. But I have three trust funds that I’m not turning my back on because I like the way I live and I’m not going to be made to feel less because I do or be judged because I do or feel pressured to be anything but what I am.”
“That’s not my point, Amy.”
“I’m not sure I care to understand your point, Mickey.”
“Tough, ’cause you’re going to.”
I rolled my eyes to the heavens and asked the clouds, “Why is that not surprising?”
“Babe, my point is, you got that, you live the way you want, and still you got it right about the only thing you need to be happy. And it isn’t those trust funds.”
I rolled my eyes back to him and narrowed them. “Don’t you dare use my killshot of last night against me, Mickey Donovan,” I spat.
Clearly coming to the end of his patience, he leaned toward me and bit back, “I’m usin’ it to point out, last night your aim was true.”
I threw out my hands and looked back to the heavens, crying, “Well hallelujah! I can die happy.”
My gaze shot back to him when he asked irritably, “Why is it when you’re a smartass I wanna f*ck you more than I normally wanna f*ck you?”
“You wanna f*ck me?” I asked back, injecting these words with deep disbelief. “Shocker considering I’m…” I paused and leaned into him, “Attractive.”
His brows snapped together. “Wouldn’t wanna f*ck a woman who wasn’t, Amy.”
I glared at him. “Fascinating, since you didn’t want me until I got highlights.”
His brows stayed knit and his eyes got dark. “You got what?”
“Highlights,” I snapped, jerking a pointed finger to my hair.
He looked to my hair and muttered, “Fuck, thought something was different.”
I blinked.
He looked back to me. “Looks nice. Definitely like the bangs.”
I blinked again.
Then I took a step his way, got up on my toes and accused, “Do not stand there and tell me you didn’t notice my highlights or my new clothes.”
He looked down his nose at me. “Noticed the haircut, babe, like I said, it looks nice. Definitely noticed the clothes but didn’t think they were new. Thought the old shit was shit you were usin’ because you hadn’t unpacked all your stuff yet ’cause when you did, it was more you.”
“So you’re saying this newfound attraction to me isn’t about my highlights and clothes,” I scoffed.
“Babe, don’t hand me that crap,” he growled. “You’re old enough to know you got it. And you’re also old enough to know a man does not get in the face of another man and then offer to help around the house unless he’s into the woman he’s offerin’ that shit to.”
My heart jumped, my teeth clenched and Lawr was proved correct.
However, I could not let this get to me.
Instead, I found it was time to share something with him.
“I am aware that your preferences run to tall redheads with big breasts.”
Surprise washed over his features as he asked, “What?”
“I saw you,” I spat. “With that beautiful redhead at the movies.”
That was when his features turned smug.
I felt pressure build in my chest, throat, but especially in my head. “You like that I saw you?”
“May not say much for me, Amy, but after watchin’ you make a date with Stone right in front of me and make out with that douche, yeah. I like it that I gave you a little of that torture you handed me, seein’ me with Bridget.”