Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 85322 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 427(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85322 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 427(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
“Motherfu—dge.”
“You usually say motherfucker,” Ellie said frankly.
I snorted under my breath and turned onto the main road.
Alfie peered back between our seats. “That’s no fuckin’ excuse for you to say dumb shit like me. We clear?”
“Okay, shit!” Ellie yelled.
“Noelle,” I warned in the rearview.
She found my stare in the mirror and scowled. “Be mad at Daddy also for cursing. You always say Noelle…” She darkened her voice, and it was too fucking cute.
But fair enough.
I turned to Alfie. “Alfredo…”
“Oh, gross.” He made a face. “Don’t ever call me that, you sexy nutjob.”
I laughed. So did Ellie.
Now I understood why Colby had opted to take the bus. He’d looked half horrified at the prospect of entering a toy store with us, but the car ride might be worse.
However, something told me that Colby was more interested in meeting up with the kids his age. An invitation had been extended to him through Kellan; the teenagers in the family were avoiding the birthday party by eating at a burger place. And according to Alfie, Colby had “lost his vocabulary” the first time he’d met Finn and Emilia’s daughter, Autumn.
“I like Dad’s chicken alfredo very much,” Trip offered. “Can we have that for dinner on Monday after school?”
I chuckled. “Definitely, son. You looking forward to second grade?”
“Yes.” He smiled happily and looked out the window.
“And now we’re not going to Daddy Alfredo’s—we’re staying at the same house,” Ellie said. “Daddy can cook all the time!”
Alfie stared back at her. “You absolute shit-stirrer.”
I just sighed contentedly, happier than I’d been in ages.
I’d obviously looked up Finn and Emilia’s address on Google Street View first, but the grand estate still left a mark as we drove through the gates.
Never again did I want to hear Alfie complain about the finer things in life. He made good money. He wore watches most couldn’t afford on a year’s salary, his car was worth two hundred grand, and Villanova was his new hangout for barbecues and birthday parties.
The day we found a new house we both loved, it was undoubtedly going to cost a fortune. A backyard with a pool was bad enough, but to add a Center City location? Or close by?
I wasn’t sure backyards actually existed downtown unless we wanted a rowhome with an inflatable kiddie pool.
“Kellan and Shan are here,” Alfie mentioned. He nodded at an Audi R8. You didn’t see those every day. “You can park in front of it.”
“Got it.” I made sure not to knock down the potted magnolia next to the hedge. “And Liam wasn’t going to be here today?”
Alfie shook his head. “No, he couldn’t make it. He’s at some car show. But Luna and the boys are here.”
Uh-huh. A car show. Right.
The golf round with Shan had helped a lot. I wasn’t as nervous as I thought I would be. After killing the engine, we made our way toward the entrance, and I kept thinking I was going to a social function with a bunch of mobsters, and…I wasn’t as bothered by that as I should be. Shan’s straightforwardness and honesty—at least I assumed so—had desensitized me enough. As had getting back together with Alfie after he’d already joined this criminal empire.
My eyes were open, and I was still going in.
“Yay, there’s music!” Ellie cheered. “Do you hear it, Alfredo?”
“What the fuck!” Alfie threw his arms out. “Do I have a target on my back today or what?”
I exhaled a laugh and caught Trip snickering behind his hand.
Ellie beamed proudly, holding the bouquet of flowers I’d bought for the hostess. Emilia O’Shea, mobster wife. Or, as Ellie called her, Auntie Emilia.
Alfie huffed and rang the doorbell, and I folded up the sleeves of my button-down. Despite his reassuring me it was casual, I felt like I’d just rolled out of bed. He’d picked out the khaki shorts for me, but I couldn’t remember the last time I’d worn them. I’d been taught a grown man was only allowed to wear shorts on a beach—or at a water park. In public, that was. I wore swim trunks around the pool all the time.
Okay, perhaps I was nervous after all.
I took a deep breath as someone turned the lock inside the house, and then the big door opened.
I’d expected Emilia, but it was Finn. With a screaming toddler in his arms. Would that be one of the birthday boys?
“Oi! Come on in. I just gotta run upstairs and change this one’s diaper,” Finn said. “Kian decided to kick off the party with a wicked shit.”
Yes, we could smell it.
“Hi, Uncle Finn!” Ellie ran in like she owned the place. “I have flowers for Auntie Emilia!”
“Hey, sweetheart,” Finn chuckled. “Everyone’s out back.”
“Okay!” She was already gone.
“Oi, mate.” Alfie walked in next and slapped his hand to Finn’s, before he ducked in to give Kian’s cheek a quick smooch. “What’chu cryin’ about, trooper? Huh? It’s your party!”