Liberating Mr. Gable

by Tuesday Embers

  “I promise. I want to grow old with you and do married couple kind of things.”

  “Oo, say ‘married couples’.”

  “Married couples,” she murmured between kisses.

  “That’s it. That’s how I like it, baby. Say something else married people say.”

  Etta dragged her nails over his abdomen as she whispered in his ear using the sexiest voice she could muster. “Put down the toilet seat.”

  Anson had watched her blossom and bloom under the glow of his love, and as she sunk into his embrace, he knew he could never bear to leave her side. Anson had finally found his home.

  Baby Duck

  “Lay back down. I’ll get her.” Anson fumbled through the dark to press a kiss to his wife’s temple.

  “Are you sure? I don’t mind.” Etta was being kind. She was exhausted, but Anson had been doing so much lately; she felt guilty asking him for more.

  “The doctor said you’re supposed to be resting. You just had a baby.”

  Etta wanted to protest, but her puffy lips did not cooperate. She rolled onto her side and closed her eyes, knowing the futility of falling back to sleep, but unable to avoid being lulled into the trap.

  A few minutes later, Anson came in with their infant snuggled to his chest. He exercised the most care when handling his daughter, taking into consideration her every momentary need. He laid their baby gently down on the bed in the crook of Etta’s arm, watching with fascination as she latched onto the most perfect breast he had ever seen.

  Three weeks, and Anson was unsure his heart was capable of growing any larger without bursting with happiness all over the French Connection. He stroked the tiny bit of dark hair his daughter had on her round head and did his best not to kiss Etta while she was nursing the baby. The hallway’s light let in a sliver of illumination that fell on the two loves of his life. “You’re so beautiful,” he breathed, unable to take his gaze off her.

  “Isn’t she?” Etta’s tired eyes were mesmerized as she cradled her daughter.

  “I meant you.” He leaned forward and kissed his wife, chuckling when she unsurprisingly pulled back.

  “You can’t do that when I’m doing this!”

  “But why? It’s just a kiss.”

  “Because it’s weird! Knock it off, Gable.”

  “Stop being so sexy, Gable,” he countered with a smirk.

  Etta covered her daughter’s tiny ear. “Don’t listen, Lily. Your daddy just needs another cold shower.”

  “You seriously can’t have sex for six weeks? It’s such a tease! Your breasts are huge, you’re all curvy, but I can’t get near you for another three weeks?”

  “Counting the days, are you?” Etta teased, running her toes up her husband’s leg.

  “You’re playing with fire, little duck. You know that, right?”

  Several minutes of teasing later, Etta handed Lily back to Anson, who took her back to her crib. Her brilliant engagement ring sparkled, even in the lamplight. The wedding band Papa Henri had hidden in the floorboards for Vera years ago was dull in comparison, but every bit as treasured by the young couple.

  “I love you so much, baby duck.” Anson stared in adoration at Lily as he set her down carefully in her crib, wondering how he ever got so lucky to get to take care of someone so perfect.

  When he made his way back to the bedroom, he found Etta fast asleep. Gently, he wrapped his arms around his wife, kissing her face tenderly and whispering oaths of love into the night that came from the outpouring of his heart.

  For the rest of his life, Anson knew they would always be there to protect each other, to love each other, and to hold each other through whatever life had in store for them.

  The End.

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  Exploding

  Book One in the O’Keefe Family Collection

  Enjoy a free preview of my book, Exploding

  Ladles and Labels

  Fallyn O’Keefe cast around the industrial kitchen that had seemed much bigger before she’d moved all her culinary gear in. She hadn’t started cooking in the space yet, and already there was a hint of the impending whirlwind Fallyn usually brought with her. Boxes were halfway unpacked, and though she hadn’t started baking anything, there were puffs of flour sprinkled on the counter already.

  The space was the perfect size for the bakery she’d always wanted to put her stamp on. She walked through her kitchen and ran her hand along the stainless steel countertop, humming a pleasant tune to herself. She tossed her auburn waves over her shoulder as she indulged in a smile that her dream was finally coming true.

  An unwelcome but familiar voice interrupted her quiet moment of contentment. “Well, whataya know. It’s an O’Keefe brat opening a business in neutral territory. Come on, now. You know your kind belongs on the east side.” Joey D’Amato was standing in the doorway that led to the alley, sizing up the contents of the kitchen as if looking for valuables to steal.

  “Hi, Joey.”

  “Hey, Cupcake. You glad to see me? It’s been a while.” His short, black hair had too much product in it, and his smile contained too much of a threat. He shifted his silver belt buckle on his black pants that was in the shape of a map of Italy.

  Joey winked at Fallyn, who went back to unpacking boxes and putting things on the shelves, pretending there was no tension in hopes of making it so. “Of course. I could use someone to help me unpack,” Fallyn suggested, wishing she wasn’t barefoot. Her pink high heels were stowed in her office, and usually gave her the extra couple inches that made her feel almost on even footing with her family’s enemy. “Or you can leave right now. Your choice.”

  Joey held up his hands that were stained with engine grease. “I just dropped in to wish our favorite girl good luck with her new business. What else would I be doing here? I wouldn’t want to be accused of stirring up trouble.” Joey picked up a glass mixing bowl from the counter, getting his stained fingerprints all over it as he turned it over in his hands.

  Fallyn’s tone turned sharp at the hint of a threat in the air. “Put that down and go on home. Vince gave me permission to open up a business here. You remember Vince, right? Vince D’Amato? Your big brother? Runs the west side – west side, as in, not neutral territory?”

  “Vince is going soft. Let in one O’Keefe, and the whole family takes over.”

  Fallyn tried to remain composed through the intrusion she hadn’t been expecting so soon. Her brothers were on their way with the moving truck that held the rest of her supplies, so she tried not to let Joey know she was rattled. “We’re not open for business yet, but stop by when we’re up and running, and I’ll give you a cookie.”

  Joey leaned on the doorjamb, leering at Fallyn not to solicit a blush, but to intimidate her. “You just go around giving your cookies to strange men who show up trying to get in your backdoor? My, my. This is the best bakery in town. Bet I’m not the only one offering to lick your sweet cookie all night long.”

  Fallyn could endure a lot, but her Irish temper got the better of her. She yanked a knife from the butcher block, snarling as she took a few steps forward. “Say that again.”

  Joey responded by throwing the glass mixing bowl to the floor, a wide smile spreading across his face when he took in her bare feet. “Come and get me, Princess.” His hand landed on a stack of glass pie plates, and one by one, they were thrown like Frisbees around her, crashing into the cupboards and shattering to close her in.

  “Stop it! I have every right to be here! My family’s not doing any east end business here. It’s just a bakery.”

  Joey’s playful façade gave way to his anger. He cracked a pie plate on the edge of the stainless steel counter and aimed the jagged shard in his hand at her like a weapon. “I know it’s a front! I know you’re taking advantage of Vince’s new peace agreement. Thinks he can make things like how they used to be between our families, but this is too far! O’Keefes are supposed to keep their businesses in the east end, and us D’A
matos get the west end. Neutral territory’s supposed to be off-limits!”

  “Then take it up with your fearless leader. Vince runs your family, and Killian runs ours now. They both agreed I could open up my shop here. All we want is peace.”

  “You don’t know the first thing about what we want.”

  Fallyn was incredulous, her hands flying out as her pitch rose. “I want to stop burying people I love! Don’t you want that?”

  “I want you out of here!”

  The sound of the truck pulling into the alleyway froze the two with petrified looks of children getting caught in the middle of a mess. There was a small part of Fallyn that wished she could unleash her brothers on Joey, but that would break the fragile peace between the feuding families beyond repair.

  Neither of them budged as they heard the back of the truck open and the chatter of two voices they both knew. Joey stiffened and Fallyn bit her lip when one of them called to her. “Which do you want first, the box marked ‘Kitchen Crap’ or the one marked ‘Other Kitchen Crap’?”

  “Carrigan?” Fallyn called, trying to keep her voice light. “Who’s with you?”

  “It’s your favorite brother,” answered Danny with a grin in his voice.

  Carrigan scoffed. “Since when? We all know I’m the favorite.” He strolled in with a box that he almost dropped when he took in the D’Amato who didn’t belong there and his sister, who insisted that her business did. Carrigan set down the box and reached for the gun he always kept when he was off-duty. “Okay, kids. What’d I miss?” He called to his brother in the alley, “Danny, phone Killian and tell him Joey’s trashed Fallyn’s bakery.”

  “I did this,” Fallyn insisted, her pitch rising further as her anxiety peaked. “I dropped a bunch of stuff, and Joey was helping me sweep it up.”

  “Is that so?” Everyone in the O’Keefe family had wavy auburn hair, a smattering of freckles across their tanned noses and shoulders, a determined gait and a penchant for mischief.

  “Yes. Joey’s not starting anything, because then we’ll retaliate. Then they’ll retaliate, and we’re back to the mess. Our families have gone through enough. Time to bury it and be cool. It was our parents’ vendetta anyway. No need to keep that nonsense going.” She motioned to the broom that was near the backdoor. “How sweet of you to offer to lend me a hand, Joey. It’s almost like you don’t want my brothers to shoot you where you stand. I’ll make sure Vince hears about you extending a little hospitality.” Her voice turned sharp when Carrigan’s gun moved to aim at Joey’s kneecap. “Put your guns down! I know you’re out there, Danny. No guns will be fired in my bakery! Not today, and not ever.”

  Joey was flummoxed. “I didn’t stop by to work for you.”

  Fallyn kissed her finger and flicked the sweetness at Joey with a delicate smile. “Yes, you did. You want good things for your family, so make peace with mine, Cupcake.” When Joey scoffed, Fallyn narrowed her eyes at him. “I could always call the rest of my brothers to come on over to your auto shop to pay you a visit like you’re paying me. I mean, Seamus hasn’t killed anyone in a really long time. I think he’s starting to miss the thrill of it.” Her soft tone turned sharp. “You’re helping me now, or I’ll send word to the rest of my brothers and yours that you’re harassing me, stirring up trouble in neutral territory. Carrigan, what did Vince do to Big Hal when he tried messing with one of Declan’s fitness centers?”

  Carrigan looked up toward the ceiling as if in thought. “You know, funny thing. I haven’t seen Big Hal since that day. Weird.”

  “And Big Hal worked for your family, Joey. Rules are rules. You’re either helping me or harassing me. Which is it? Unpack a box, or get fitted for cement shoes.”

  Joey’s phone rang and he answered on the second ring, as was their usual standard when family called. “Yeah, Vince. I can be there in ten.” He cast Fallyn a guilty look. “I’m at Fallyn’s new store, checking out the joint.”

  Fallyn heard yelling on the other end, and Joey hung up, his tail between his legs. “I’ve gotta go. Vince says congratulations on your new business.”

  “Thank you,” she said quietly, knowing there was more to the phone call than that. “And thanks for helping out, Jo-Jo.”

  Joey paused at the use of his childhood nickname. Softening his bravado, he glanced over his shoulder at her. “Knock it off, Little Keefer. You don’t fight fair.” Jo-Jo was the name only his family used. In her youth, Fallyn had taken to calling him by the nickname when she had played with him at school. That was before their parents had their big falling out, and the children were conditioned to hate each other.

  “That’s the thing about not fighting at all.” She waved goodbye as Joey exited, gusting out her relief that nothing irreparable had happened to ruin her big adventure. “I’m proud of you guys,” she said to quiet Danny, who looked positively choked with rage when he entered the kitchen as Joey exited. “Not a single shot fired. That’s good.”

  Danny was in no mood to soften. “You opening a business here’s just going to cause drama. You’ve been away six years, Fally. You don’t know how bad it got for a while there. You didn’t see Vince and his cousin Angelo shoot out a guy’s kneecaps for being short on the take.”

  Fallyn scoffed, straightening her long waves and holding her chin up so her brothers couldn’t see her internal trembling. “Hello, I’ve seen Seamus do that exact same thing. You too, in fact. Daddy killed a man in the backroom of the Loan and Trust on my twelfth birthday!”

  Danny threw out his arms. “Vince wasted a guy just last month for not cooperating!”

  “You mean he shot a cocaine dealer for not closing up shop and leaving town? Gotta say, you’re only making me feel better about this whole thing.”

  “Vince is dangerous, Fal. With you all the way in the center of the city, we can’t protect you as well. He threatened Killian, you know. Your oldest brother? Tall guy? Matching freckles? Ring any bells?”

  Fallyn leaned her head back, exasperated. “Killian threatened him, too! That was years ago, and you said yourself that Vince is running the business now, and he’s trying to make a change. Killian believes Vince is trying to turn things around, so let’s use that to our advantage, yeah?”

  “You’re making a mistake!”

  “I’m not trying to hear that, Danny.”

  “If Dad didn’t have dementia, Killian wouldn’t be in charge, and we wouldn’t all have to hold hands and make peace with the enemy. It’s because of them Keenan’s locked up. It’s because of them…”

  Carrigan raised his hands after he tucked his pistol to the small of his back. “Keenan’s in jail because it was his third B and E. No one made him do that.”

  Danny cast his older brother a petulant look. “They turned him in for the second one.”

  “We’re always going to find reasons to hate each other, and I’m over it. All of it.” Fallyn was resolute, with as serene a smile as she could muster plastered on her face.

  Danny wasn’t ready to give up his side of the back-and-forth. “You know, Dad left Killian a mess when he handed down the loan sharking business, but Killian turned things around.”

  “Somehow I don’t think running crackheads out of town is as simple as charging more reasonable interest rates and backing off on the number of storefronts you bust up,” Fallyn simpered, blinking up at her brother. Each of her seven older brothers were far taller than her, but she usually had her high heels to make up for her slight stature. Being barefoot and surrounded by glass did her confidence no good. Her voice quieted as she cast her blue eyes to Danny to plead with him for understanding. “Don’t you see what I’m trying to do here?”

  Carrigan wore a grim expression as he motioned to the broom. “Danny, start sweeping up this mess. Fally, where are your shoes?”

  Her voice turned mousy. “In my office. I might be a little stuck here.”

  Carrigan toed a few larger pieces of glass out of the way so he could make a path to his sister. In one sharp
yank, he hefted Fallyn up onto his back and carried her to her office. “There you go. Just like when you were five.”

  “Add twenty years to that, and you’re spot on. Thanks, Carrigan.”

  “Thank me by telling us who your favorite brother really is.” He set her down so she could slip on her shoes.

  Fallyn slid on her pink high heels, smiling up at him, despite the drama of the morning. “You know you’re my best friend.”

  “That wasn’t nearly loud enough,” he joked, tweaking her upturned slender nose with a smile that calmed them both.

  Her office was a small room off to the side of the kitchen that provided a space for the pleasant clutter to be concealed. There were pictures of pin-up girls with kitchen utensils she’d hung on the wall there, and though they hadn’t opened more than a few boxes yet, she somehow had managed to smear flour on the thick black frames outlining the sultry girls.

  Carrigan walked out from her office and stood in the middle of the kitchen, eyebrows pushed together in confusion. “You two done fighting yet, or should I make some popcorn?”

  “We’re done,” Fallyn ruled, rejoining her brothers. “Danny has absolutely nothing new to say on the subject.”

  Danny shoved ladles into the drawer. “I don’t know how you can be so calm about it all. I’m three seconds away from ripping Joey’s head off every time I see his smug little face.”

  Fallyn put away a stack of order papers, praying her brothers didn’t notice how badly her hand was shaking.

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  Books by Tuesday Embers

  Liberating Mr. Gable

  Unraveling Molly

  The O’Keefe Family Collection

  Exploding

  Escaping

  Exhaling