Page 94 of Tiny's Law

Capturing my lips with his, he answers me with a reassuring kiss. If there’s one thing about Tiny, I never have to question how he truly feels. He continues to show me over and over again the lengths he will go for me.

This is what I’ve been looking for all along.

A man who loves me more than I love myself. A man who puts me above all others, even himself, as evidenced by the cast covering his entire arm due to the bullet he caught for me.

I love him, and he loves me, and at this point in time, that’s all I can truly ask for.

Epilogue

Kourtney

“Why is this pillow so flat?” Emily complains, hitting the same throw pillow over and over again as she tries fluffing it for good measure.

I giggle at her antics, and Tiny shakes his head. Even with one arm still pressed across his chest in a sling, he takes the pillow from his mom’s hand and flings it across the house. “Fuck the pillow, Ma.”

“Nathan! Kourtney’s parents are coming! Today! We need to make sure this place is presentable!”

Somehow, Tiny went behind my back and contacted my parents. He orchestrated a whole trip for them to come visit me. All he had to do was tell my dad that I was missing him. I think Tiny underestimated my dad’s devotion to my mom and me because my dad booked a flight two days later. They land in an hour.

“Mom. We’ve done this with the fucking spoons, and the flowers, and now pillows. I doubt Kourtney’s parents are going to give a shit that one throw pillow is a little flat.”

“Spoons?” I ask, watching the interaction between mother and son.

“Oh Jesus, please don’t get her started.”

“Nathan Michael!” Emily shouts.

“Nathan Michael?” I question, giggling. Tiny turns a sinister grin on me, and I press my foot against his chest to stop him as he comes towards me.

“Nathan has seven different types of spoons in his drawer. They are all different! How do you accumulate seven different types of cutlery?” his mom mumbles as she arranges the pillows on the couch once again to make them work without the one Tiny threw across the room.

Tiny plops down next to me, dragging my legs into his lap as we watch his mom.

“What’s the story with the spoons?”

“The first time you were coming to dinner, she realized I have all different spoons.”

“Why do you have different spoons?” I ask with a giggle. That giggle turns into a moan as he massages my thigh with his good hand.

“There’s no real story. When I first bought this place, I would just pick up a single pack of cutlery as I needed it. I was by myself. I didn’t need a fifty-six-piece cutlery set. Apparently, that is barbaric to Emily Hayes.”

“I wouldn’t say it's barbaric. I’d blame it more on being a bachelor. I can bring my silverware here.”

That night, while we were together in the hospital for Tiny’s gunshot wound, I confided in him that I didn’t want to ever step foot back into my house again. By the time Tiny was discharged, Meatball was sitting on Tiny’s couch, and half of my clothes were shoved on the previously empty side of Tiny’s closet.

I’m choosing to tell myself that one of the ladies went through my delicates drawer. Otherwise, one of Tiny’s brothers would know exactly what type of panties I prefer.

Tiny’s soothing massage and the soft thudding of Emily rearranging the pillows lull me to sleep.

I’ve been so exhausted lately I could fall asleep standing up if I tried hard enough. I even fell asleep at my desk yesterday. I put my head right down on the keyboard and took a nap. I woke up with small key squares imprinted on my cheeks.

“Nathan, I’ve heard a ton about you. Oliver Walker.” The sound of my dad’s deep timbre pulls me from sleep.

“Charlotte,” at my mom’s small voice, my eyes fly open.

My parents. They’re here!

I jump off the couch and slam my body into my parents before breaking out in a sob as they envelop me in a group hug. I don’t even know where the tears come from. I talk to them nearly every day, and I really did just see them a few months ago. But with everything going on lately, I don’t question the emotion welling up in me. I just soak it in and revel in their presence.

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