Total pages in book: 134
Estimated words: 126485 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 632(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126485 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 632(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
“If you like spiderman, you’ll like some of these,” I said as I set down the bags in the center of the room. Finn eyed them curiously but didn’t approach them. “Go ahead,” I encouraged him.
He looked at Aislinn for approval, and when she nodded, he pulled her toward the bags. Soon everything I’d bought for him was lined up carefully on the ground. His favorites were a spiderman figure and an airplane with a remote control. I watched him and Aislinn for a while, how happy she looked with the boy around, as if a piece of her that had been missing was finally whole again. With a last glance at them, I returned to the living room then went over to check the fridge. I grinned when I spotted a container filled with what looked like another stew.
I opened it and took a whiff. Beef this time. I could get used to Aislinn’s cooking. It reminded me of my childhood, of Ireland, of a time when my only worry had been if I’d be able to prank Balor and get away with it unscathed. That had rarely been the case. Balor had always been too cautious. Later when the twins joined in on the pranking, I could blame many of my own devious endeavors on them, though eventually that didn’t work either.
Chuckling at the memories, I grabbed a pot and dumped the stew into it. Aislinn should open a restaurant. I’d be her best customer and many of my men who missed our home country as much as I did would spend their lunch breaks there too. Finn’s laughter rang out, followed soon after by Aislinn’s. I’d lived alone since I moved to New York. Before that I’d either lived with my family at the manor or shared an apartment with Balor and then later Aran in Dublin. I hadn’t been lonely. I’d had company—my men, friends like Timothy and Seamus, my brothers when they visited, and for short period of times women. I’d always known I wanted to marry and have children. For over decades the men of our clan had managed to be fathers and gang leaders, had been the brutal hand in business and the strict but fair hand in the family.
But in the last few years, and over many failed match-making attempts of my father whenever I set foot on Irish ground, I started to wonder if I’d ever feel the true desire to marry. Aislinn caught me by surprise. I was known for rash decisions, for hot headedness, though I had improved over the years, or so I’d thought.
Welcoming Aislinn into my home had never felt like an intrusion. Even if she resisted me however she could, I enjoyed her presence, not just because of the very entertaining sex.
I liked coming home to a woman, even if she rarely smiled at me. I had a feeling I wouldn’t mind Finn’s presence either. I didn’t fancy becoming his father figure. The boy had baggage at his young age, thanks to his horrible parents, and I doubted he’d readily accept me into his life. But I’d protect him as I would my nephews and nieces.
Seamus had often bugged me about settling down. He’d had his eyes set on Maeve for a long time so their marriage was set in stone and he’d been the annoying type who wanted the same sappy happiness for everyone around him too.
I was always too busy, my mind occupied on expanding our business in New York over the last decade. Irish clans had business in New York and the East Coast since the nineteenth century due to the Irish-Italian mob wars of the 1970s most clans stopped operating in this part of the world and returned to their roots in Ireland or tried to live a normal life. Our family had never fully left New York but our business had been affected by the war. Luckily, many of the Italian families had moved on to the West Coast or dealt in other underground business than we partake in. The Italians had their fingers in construction and gambling, and we had no interest in any of that. We focused on what we did best: racketeering, gun trafficking, and contract killing.
The stew bubbled on the stove.
“It’ll burn if you don’t stir and turn the temperature down,” Aislinn said as she came into the room.
I did as she said. “That’s why I always use the microwave.”
“It’s blasphemous to warm a home cooked stew in a microwave.”
“We’ve been prone to blasphemous actions in the past,” I said with a smirk. Aislinn’s face turned red, and she looked back into Finn’s room. But the boy was busy trying to steer the airplane with the remote control.
“Not in front of Finn.”
“I doubt he’ll understand the innuendo.”
“He’s intelligent.”