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“Here’s me, thinking you were the crazy one.”
Finn cuts in. “Hate to break it to you, but I’m the normal one. Carson’s the insane one. And Nolan’s somewhere in between.” He hesitates, frowning. “Then there’s Liam.”
“He doesn’t exist on any mortal scale,” Nolan says.
Finn chuckles and runs a hand through his hair. “Speaking of which, whereisLiam? I haven’t seen or heard from him in months.”
“Out west, last time he checked in.” Nolan glances toward the front window. “He said he’s working on a job. Something important. Something involving another family.”
Finn groans. “This could be bad, right?”
“Carson claims he’s got it under control.”
“We’ll find out, I guess.” Finn congratulates me again and heads off to get more donuts.
I spend the morning chatting with everyone, sampling my own food, laughing at Roger’s jokes, and spending as much time on Nolan’s arm as I can. When the party eventually breaks up and people filter out, I’m left alone with Jamila as Nolan escorts his mother out to the car.
“What do you think?” I ask her, leaning up against the front counter.
“For a bunch of people that look like they do nothing but work out and eat raw steak, they demolished those donuts.” She shakes her head at the empty plates. “I’m serious, Keels. We’re going to need five times that amount for my family.”
“Good. It’ll be great practice.” I touch her arm, squeezing gently. “I’m really happy you decided to come back.”
“Yeah, yeah, me too. I should never have walked away, I was just pissed and fed up and—” She stops herself, smiling awkwardly. “I’m happy I’m back.”
We leave it at that. Nolan returns, takes off his jacket, and rolls up his sleeves. “I assume you two will need a hand cleaning this all up?”
“We need more than a hand,” Jamila says, ferrying a tray into the back. “We need an army.”
“Thank you,” I say, kissing his cheek. “But, uh, we have to start getting prepped for tomorrow already.”
“I can help with that too.”
“Seriously, Nolan, I’m sure you have other things—”
“Nothing is more important to me than you are.” He kisses me, holding it there for a long moment, and I luxuriate in this glowing feeling.
The feeling of being loved, being wanted.
The feeling of mattering to someone.
“All right then, husband,” I murmur, grinning up at him. “Think you can wrangle up a few more hands? We’ve got a lot of work to do.”
“Lucky for you, I know a few guys that are available, and will do basically anything for the right amount of money.”
“Good. But they don’t need to murder anyone. Unless someone insults my donuts.”
He laughs, kissing my cheek. “If anyone does that in my presence, I promise I’ll make them disappear.”
“Ah, the perks of being a mob wife.”
“Shall I make some calls?”
“Please do. And hey—” He pauses as he holds his phone up to his ear, eyebrow raised. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” he says, his face lighting up.
I carry a tray into the back, feeling warm, happy, and free.
