“I spoke to him, and he said there isn’t, but I don’t know.” Tension brackets his face.
“That’s a tough one because you don’t want to change his personality, but at the same time, he needs to show respect. And if there is something behind it, it’s best to get to the root of the problem ASAP.”
“Faye wants him to speak to a therapist she’s been recommended. A woman who does a lot of work with kids and teens, but Cathal is refusing to go.”
“Sounds like you have your hands full too.”
“Tell me about it.” Kyler drains his drink. “Life is hectic, but it’s good. We’re lucky sons of bitches.”
“We so are.” I drink the last of my beer, throwing a fifty down on the table, before we exit the clubhouse and head toward Kyler’s car. “I think I might ask Mom to take the kids for a few days. Lana is going to Paris to attend a book signing her French publisher organized. Maybe I’ll go with her, and we can spend a few days in the city of love. It’s been years since we took a romantic trip, just the two of us.”
* * *
“Seriously?” Lana’s eyes light up when I mention it to her later that night as we are getting ready for bed.
“No, I’m joking, honeybun,” I deadpan before swatting her ass. “Of course, I’m serious. I’m owed a ton of vacation time, and the office is always quieter in August. I don’t think I’ll have any issue getting a few days off. I’ll message Mike in the morning.” I pull back the covers on the bed and slide into it.
“You’re the best.” Lana flings herself at me, straddling my thighs as she wraps her arms around my neck and dots kisses all over my face. “And you definitely deserve a reward.” She pins me with a suggestive look as a broad smile graces her delectable mouth.
“You seem happier since we arrived,” I admit, parking the reward comment for a few minutes. I gently cup her cheek. “Did you speak to Faye?”
She nods. “I did. We talked about it at length, and I instantly felt better.” I try not to feel insulted Faye’s words soothed my wife when mine didn’t because the most important thing is she seems happier. “Kal.” She tips my chin up. “Faye reinforced everything you have been saying, and it’s not that I didn’t listen when you said it. It’s that I needed time to process it. Hearing what the doctor said this week helped too. To know it wasn’t anything I did or didn’t do. That there is no conclusive medical reason for what happened. It’s just one of those things. What’s most important is that we have three beautiful, healthy children and no reason why we can’t have more.”
“I love you so much.” I press a kiss to the underside of her jaw.
“I love you too, babe.” Leaning down, she places a soft, loving kiss on my lips. “I will always remember the baby we lost, but I’m not consumed with grief anymore. Even this shit with Hewson will blow over. He’s got a good head on his shoulders, and maybe we need to let him make some mistakes even if the lessons he learns are hard on him.”
“I have come to the same conclusion. He still has rules he must abide by, but I was thinking about it. What if we sat down with him and asked what he felt was reasonable for us, as parents, to implement, and maybe we could meet him halfway?”
“A compromise,” my wife says, her smile expanding. “I like that, and I think our son will too. At least, he will see we are trying to understand and to find some middle ground.”
“Now that’s all sorted, let’s discuss my reward,” I say, sliding my hands underneath the hem of her silk nightgown and palming her ass.
“What did you have in mind?” She waggles her brows while grinding on top of me.
“This bed, no clothes, lots of dirty talk, and filthy, sweaty sex.”
“I’m speaking your language,” Lana purrs, pulling her nightgown up and tossing it away.
“Hell yeah, baby.” Grabbing her hips, I flip her on to her back on the bed before kicking my sleep pants away and crawling back over her gorgeous naked body. Pushing her thighs apart, I kneel before the gates of heaven and lick my lips. “Prepare to be fucked like you’ve never been fucked before.”
5
FAYE
Ipoke my head into Cathal’s room, not in the least bit surprised to find him slouched in his gaming chair in front of the TV, playingThe Last Guardianon his PlayStation. His siblings are all out for the count, exhausted after the journey from Boston to Dublin. But Cathal has boundless energy, and he seems to require little sleep. “Don’t stay up too late,” I say, tiptoeing across the varnished hardwood floor toward my son. “Remember we’re spending the day at Brad and Rachel’s house tomorrow.”
“I hadn’t forgotten,” he says, not lifting his gaze from the screen as his fingers move like lightning on the game controller. I must be the most uncoordinated person on the planet because I cannot get my fingers to work quick enough anytime I play a game with my son. Cathal is a pro, and he seemed to master the basics superfast. He regularly beats Ky at those football and basketball games they play. Ky is equal parts proud and frustrated. Those Kennedy competitive genes are still alive and thriving in my husband’s DNA, that’s for sure.
Wrapping my arms around my son from behind, I lean in and press a kiss to his cheek. “Night, honey.”
“Night, Mom.”
“Love you.”
He briefly lifts his head, his big blue eyes smiling as he looks at me. “Love you too.” He returns his focus to the game as I plant a kiss on top of his dark head. “And stop worrying. I’m fine,” he adds.
“Moms never stop worrying. It’s part of our job.”
