Always Mickie (Cruz Brothers Book 3)

by Melanie Munton

  He’d be lucky to escape with his balls intact.

  Forty-five minutes later, I was at the house trying to finish packing my bag when I heard a commotion downstairs. I went down to find the kids being chased around by a goblin mask-toting…Kinley?

  “What’s going on?” I shouted over the screams.

  Kinley pulled off the mask with a triumphant grin while Gabby and Leo played tug-of-war with her arms.

  “Hey, Mickie,” she said. “We just stopped at the ninety-nine cent store and found some goodies.” She held up the mask. “Hours of entertainment for only a dollar, right here.”

  “And I got this awesome sling shot,” Leo proudly stated, showing off his new toy.

  “Kinley said I could have bubbles,” Gabby said, marking the occasion by blowing a stream of bubbles from a tiny plastic wand.

  I held my hands up. “Wait. I’m confused.”

  Kinley scrunched her eyebrows together. “Dawson didn’t tell you? I’m watching the kids this weekend while you guys are away.”

  How in the hell had he managed that?

  “You don’t have a photo shoot this weekend?” I asked.

  She was an in-demand nature photographer—pretty famous in the photography world. I didn’t want to think she was missing out on some awesome gig to watch her boyfriend’s niece and nephew.

  She waved me off. “No, I cleared my schedule for this weekend months ago.”

  Now, I was even more confused. “What do you mean?” I asked. “Dawson asked you to babysit months ago?”

  She bit her lip, looking afraid she’d revealed something she shouldn’t have. “Um, yeah? He had everything set up a while back.”

  Seriously? He’d actually made these plans that long ago? They hadn’t been some last-ditch effort to make up for us fighting? Admittedly, that made me phenomenally happy.

  She and I chatted and caught up while we waited for Dawson. And man, when he arrived, I swear it was like seeing him picking me up for our first date all over again. He was wearing similar black jeans like he’d worn all those years ago, a gray T-shirt, and black boots.

  The closed-off, sexy Dawson of my past, colliding with the stubborn, gorgeous man of my present.

  He kissed Kinley on the cheek after he walked through the door. “Thanks again for this,” he said. “We really owe you.”

  “Pleease stop thanking me,” she said, groaning. “You guys deserve some time to yourself. Besides, I believe I’m getting the better deal here.” She glanced over at the kids, who had started to build a fort in the living room. “I promised we’d play pirates, so don’t hurry back.” She winked before scuttling off to join their game.

  I finally looked Dawson in the eye, and was instantly pulled in by the dark magnetism emanating from his features.

  “I can’t believe you arranged all this,” I said, awestruck.

  He seemed uncomfortable by my praise. “If that’s true, then I must be really out of practice.” I started to explain, but he stopped me. “No, it’s okay. I’m making up for that starting now.”

  Well, I wasn’t going to argue with that.

  I was desperate to know where he was taking me. But I refrained from asking and kept to myself the whole car ride. Though, that didn’t stop me from keeping my nose pressed to the window, trying to figure out where we were going.

  “I don’t know if I’ve ever told you,” he said, finally breaking the silence, “but this look is my favorite on you.”

  I glanced down at myself, verifying I was still wearing what I thought I’d put on earlier. Sometimes I really couldn’t remember. Yep, still the same black yoga pants and hot pink tank top I had on earlier.

  Was I missing something?

  “This?” I clarified, pulling at my top. “You prefer me looking like this over anything else?”

  He flipped his turning signal on and slowed at a stoplight. “Mmhmm.” He eyed my outfit again, his gaze eventually landing on my makeup-less face. “You look comfortable just being you. It’s just…natural.”

  Huh. Men liked to say those things. But deep down, I’d always assumed they were just trying to be nice.

  “Not that you don’t look beautiful with makeup on,” he rushed to add. “And you know how gorgeous you look in dresses and heels. Or fishnets.” We sent each other sly grins at the reference. “But I see those looks as…bonuses. Because the real thing is tempting enough without all the extras.”

  I was unable to control the blush. After ten years of marriage, the man must have had magical powers to accomplish such a feat.

  “I have to admit that I’ve missed this look,” I told him, my voice soft, almost embarrassed.

  He laughed and rubbed his neck, looking embarrassed himself. “I thought you hated the black.”

  “No, I hated when you didn’t know any other colors existed but black,” I retorted.

  “Good point.”

  We were nearing the marina and my pulse spiked, my mind considering all the possibilities. He parked in a private area and after unloading our bags, he led us to one of the slips where a sparkling white houseboat was docked. He spread his arms out, gesturing to the boat.

  “Our weekend getaway,” he said.

  I stared in shock at the boat. It was an absolute beauty. “We’re taking that out? As in, we’re sleeping on it?”

  He dropped our bags on the deck and approached me. “Does that work for you?” he asked.

  Was he kidding?

  “Oh, my God,” I said on a gasp, hand covering my mouth. “This is incredible. Wait.” I wracked my brain. “Whose is this? And when did you get your boater’s license?”

  “Kyle’s rich grandfather left it to him in his will,” Dawson replied. “And I got my license online a few months back. It was actually pretty easy. Don’t worry, though. I’ve taken it out with Kyle several times, so I know what I’m doing.”

  He took my face in his hands, which I responded to with the cheesiest smile imaginable.

  “You have no idea how much it means to me that you did all this.”

  He covered my mouth in a kiss so pure and honest, I swear it was like inhaling heaven.

  He pressed our foreheads together. “Happy Anniversary, Mick.”

  If it was possible to fall in love with the same person twice in one lifetime, well…

  I had just done that with my husband.

  Chapter Forty-One

  Mickie

  “Did you think I’d forgotten?” Dawson asked.

  I was still gazing up at him in shock. “But…” I stammered. “Our anniversary’s not until Tuesday.”

  His thumb rubbed across my jawline. “We’re celebrating early. I know I haven’t given you a romantic anniversary gift for the past few years, and I’m sorry for that. But I want to show you how much you mean to me.”

  I kept falling deeper with every word he spoke. “You didn’t have to go through all this trouble, though.”

  His brow furrowed. He glanced at the boat then back to me. “Do you like it?”

  My eyes caught on the pristine white paint of the boat, the gleaming metal fixtures. The promise of tranquility. “I love it,” I whispered.

  He nodded once and took my hand. “Then it was worth it.” He stopped before he bent down to pick up our bags, peering up at me. “But let’s get something straight. I didn’t have to do anything. I wanted to. Spending time with you is never going to any trouble.” He grinned. “Granted, you are trouble, but that’s another story.”

  I laughed, smacking his arm. He helped me aboard the boat, holding me steady as he balanced us against the dock. Standing onboard, I realized it was even bigger than I thought. Plush white seats encircled the helm, with a small table in the corner. I walked through a door that led to the cabin below deck, where the kitchen, bathroom, and a small bedroom were located.

  The bed was larger than I would have imagined. We would both definitely fit comfortably on that.

  Patience, girl.

  “What do you think
?” he called from above deck.

  I climbed up the stairs, shielding my eyes from the bright sun. “It’s beautiful.”

  Same went for the smile he flashed at me. Beautiful.

  “Ready to shove off, then?” he asked.

  “Whenever you are, Captain.”

  His hands froze on the ropes he was untying from the dock. When he peeked over his shoulder, he looked like a predator about to devour his prey.

  “We can have some fun with that later,” he growled. “Since you’re so into role play and everything.”

  I scoffed. “Like you wouldn’t enjoy pretending you were a pirate and I was your prisoner.”

  He pinched my ass when he passed me to get to the other rope. “Only as long as you had to do whatever I said.”

  “As you wish, oh, Captain, my Captain.”

  His playful grin turned into a smoldering glare. “Now, you’re just toying with me.”

  I blew him an air kiss. “Because you’re so much fun to play with.”

  I had to stifle my laughter when I heard him mumble under his breath, “I’ll give you something to play with.”

  I watched with rapt attention as he stepped behind the helm and steered us out onto the water. I had never seen this side of him before. He commanded the vessel with such ease and self-assuredness, one would think he’d been boating his entire life.

  I couldn’t take my eyes off of him or the way his arm muscles flexed as they controlled the wheel. I even snuck a covert picture of him when the sun was shining down at just the right angle, reflecting off his aviator sunglasses.

  “I saw that,” he muttered.

  Or, maybe not so covert.

  I giggled. “So, where are you taking us?”

  He raised his arm, pointing straight ahead. “We’re going to head down the Patapsco River, and then I thought we could anchor near Stoney Beach. That okay with you?”

  I stretched my legs out across the seat cushions, soaking up the feeling of the sun warming my skin. “Whatever you say. You’re in charge.”

  The breeze whipped through my hair as he led us down the river and out into the larger body of water that would eventually lead into the Chesapeake Bay. I was content with staying in this spot all day, feeling the cool spray of the water splash against my face, listening to the waves as they crashed against the boat’s hull. I may have even drifted off to sleep at one point.

  Until Dawson’s voice jolted me awake. “You want to steer?” he asked.

  “Really?” Because that sounded fun.

  He positioned me to stand in front of him, and placed my hands on the wheel.

  “It’s easy,” he said. “You just keep your hands on the wheel, and make sure the compass keeps pointing straight.”

  It may not have been a joint, but taking that wheel sure gave me a good high. He stood next to me the whole time, though I could feel every time he glanced over, smiling as he watched me. Once the sun started to set, he took over and guided us to a shallower area near shore where we could anchor for the night.

  “Hungry?” he asked.

  I stood up, stretching my tired limbs. “Very.”

  He disappeared down into the cabin and returned less than a minute later with a pizza box in his hands. He set it down on the table and waited for my reaction.

  I looked at the label. “You actually managed to get dinner from The Pie Guys?”

  He waggled his eyebrows. “Don’t act like you’re not impressed.”

  We each grabbed a piece and chowed down. “I’d be more impressed if it was Fabrizio’s.”

  He dropped his head and groaned. “Not this again. After all these years and you’re still in denial?”

  I pointed my finger at him. “When The Pie Guys get their crust right, then we’ll talk. Until then, they’re still second best.”

  He shook his head in mock disappointment. “You’re hopeless, woman.”

  “You know, Fabrizio actually brought his family’s original recipe over from Naples,” I said. “Someday, I’d love to go to Italy and sample real pizza like that.”

  “You want to go to Italy?” he asked, sounding surprised.

  I looked at him curiously. “Yeah, I’ve always wanted to. Have I really never told you that before?”

  He shook his head slowly. “No. Never.”

  Huh. I guess you could always learn new things about your spouse.

  We had several minutes of random conversation before I switched topics. “You never told me how the visit with your mom went.”

  Both eyebrows went up. “Good, actually. She seems to be doing really well.” He added in a quieter voice, “She’s even making flower arrangements again.”

  I wished he would look at me, but he was watching his finger trace invisible patterns on the table’s surface.

  “Wow,” I exclaimed. “That’s great. Has to be a good sign, right?”

  He nodded. “I think so. It gives her something to focus on, at least.”

  I smiled as memories assaulted my mind. “I still have the bouquet she made me for our wedding.”

  Though she hadn’t actually come to our wedding. Dawson hadn’t wanted to invite Sal, and Sal hadn’t been about to let his wife attend if he couldn’t. But she had managed to make a small bouquet for me that she sent with Mason. The note she’d secured with it said I didn’t have to use it in the ceremony. It was just her small way of saying sorry she couldn’t be there with us. Dawson had been so frustrated with her cowing down to Sal that he’d demanded I throw it away. He didn’t want it apart of our special day.

  I’d carried it with me down the aisle.

  His eyes snapped to mine. “You kept it?” He didn’t sound angry. Just surprised.

  I rubbed my hand down my leg, wondering if I should have admitted that. “Yeah. Throwing it away felt wrong.”

  His expression turned pensive. “I never asked you why you decided to walk down the aisle with it.”

  I chuckled. “No. You were too mad that I hadn’t respected your wishes.”

  I expected him to laugh, but he didn’t.

  I sighed. “I wanted it with me because it was her way of apologizing. Whether you wanted to see it or not, she had been trying.” I shrugged. “And I don’t know… It felt like the only connection we had to any of our parents. My dad died in prison. My mom is still in prison and wouldn’t recognize me even if I was standing right in front of her. Sal was Sal. It felt like she was all either of us had.”

  Except for Uncle Frank and Aunt Hope, who I’d always counted as my parents. Just not biologically.

  “Her bouquet was the only way of making it feel like part of her was there with us,” I added.

  I became worried when he remained quiet, but I wouldn’t apologize for what I’d done. I didn’t regret it. It still felt like it had been the right thing to do.

  “Thank you,” he whispered. He covered my hand with his, piercing me with his dark gaze. “For doing that. For seeing what that meant at the time because I sure as hell hadn’t.”

  I laced my fingers through his and squeezed. “I wouldn’t have expected you to. It was an emotional day for everyone.”

  We fell silent again, but I didn’t mind. Sitting there, listening to him breathe while we sipped on our wine, was the most wonderful experience I’d shared with him in years.

  “Can I ask you something without you getting upset?” I asked carefully.

  The corner of his mouth curled. “I’ll do my best.”

  I ran my finger down the stem of my wine glass, gathering courage. “What happened when Sal died?” His fingers went slack. “I know he spoke with each of you individually. What did he say to you?”

  Part of me felt like it was none of my business.

  But another part of me felt like I had every right to ask.

  He sucked in a sharp breath, and tightened his grip on my hand. He was acting like he wouldn’t get through this without having that connection.

  “He and I didn’t have one honest, mean
ingful conversation throughout my entire life,” he said in monotone. “Because there was no talking to that man. All he knew was anger and condescension. But when he was in the hospital for that final week, he didn’t yell once. Not at any of us.”

  I felt tears building, but I forced myself to fight them back for his sake.

  “It was the first time he seemed like an actual man to me and not just a monster,” he continued. “As he’d lain there dying in that bed, I wanted to hate him, like I had all my life. But I wasn’t able to, and I couldn’t figure out why. He was just such a pathetic sight that…I felt sorry for him. And I was mad about that. That I felt any ounce of sympathy at all for him.”

  I rubbed along his forearm, attempting to comfort. “It’s okay to feel like that,” I told him gently. “You might have hated him, but you’re human, too. And we can’t help but feel more sometimes, even for people who don’t really deserve it.”

  His other hand covered our joined ones. “It wasn’t that I felt sorry for the fact that he was dying or that he was in pain. I felt sorry for the life he’d lived. For how much of it he’d wasted. His children were only there at the end to support their mother, not because they loved him. And his wife was only there because she was too emotionally dependent on him not to have dumped his ass years ago. But no one was there who truly loved him unconditionally. He’d never earned that from anyone in his life.”

  “That is sad,” I whispered in agreement.

  “When he asked to talk to me alone, I didn’t really want to listen. But at the same time, I was afraid I might regret it if I refused. So, I sat there at the foot of his bed and just listened.” His voice was finally starting to crack. “He looked me right in the eye and said, ‘You’re the leader of this family now. But I guess you always were the leader. You’ve practically raised your brothers, and you’ve helped take care of your mom. You’re a better man than I would have ever hoped to be. Don’t let them down like I did.’ And that was it. I didn’t say anything in response. I didn’t really know what I could say.”

  My heart broke for him. I said to hell with the tears and just let them go. “Oh, Dawson.”