Page 25 of My Irish Mafia King

“Don’t tell me to relax,” she snaps. “It’s a mother’s right to know what fate her son has in store for himself. I deserve to be warned if that’s your intent. Don’t you think that’s a waste?”

“A waste of what?” I ask, shocked by her sudden emotion.

“Ofyou,” she states. “You’ve got so much to offer a woman, a wife… maybe even the future mother of your children.” Is this about her wanting grandkids, then? “I know you’re not happy with the life you were born into, but you’ve become a man anyone could be proud of.”

“You’re moving too fast,” I say, my tone gentle. “Even if the circumstances were on our side, I wouldn’t be thinking about any of that yet.”

“Every morning in the cafe,” Mom replies. “Every. Single. Morning. And you’re going to sit there and tell me you haven’t thought about what it would be like to be in a relationship with her… and where that relationship might lead?”

I hold my hands up. “Okay, guilty as charged. But it changes nothing. I can think and fantasize all I want. But it’s never?—”

“Don’t think about the future,” Mom cuts in. “You like her. She likes you. Do you want to know the secret, how me and your father were so happy for so long?”

“Sure, Mom.”

“We took it, not one day at a time, but onehourat a time. We never took tomorrow for granted. Each moment was precious. Considering his line of work, we never knew how many we would have left.”

“It’s a little different, Mom. You were born into this life. So was Dad. Lucy is a civilian.”

“Those concerns are for tomorrow, not for thenow.”

“So, you want me to become a monk?”

That gets a smile out of her. “I want you to be happy.”

“I’ll think about what you said,” I reply. “In the meantime, I need to call Colm. It’s about work. Love you, Mom. Send my love to Ellie, too.”

“I love you, son. And sorry if I came on strong.”

“I know you want the best for me… and I know you want grandkids, too.”

She rolls her eyes. “Do you seriously think my concern could bethatselfish?”

I wink, then end the call. Picking up my cell, I call Colm. “Did you have any luck?”

“I’ve been asking around,” Colm replies. “Maybe people are reluctant to talk to me because they know we’re friends. Nobody will say a word about the trafficking.”

“Hmm. Uncle Frank didn’t deny it, and Owen has heard whispers. Get me a list of Callahan properties. I’ll go door to door if I have to. If he’s keeping more innocent people in this city, I want to know about it.”

“Sure thing… boss.”

I laugh darkly. “Don’t call me that.”

“Yet,” Cold says.

“Ever.”

“Newsflash, Killian. If things are going the way they seem to be, you’re the only one who can save this Family, who can save this city.”

No pressure, then. “Just get me the list.”

The day proves fruitless. The warehouses contain cut-price electronics, fake designer clothes, and a bunch of other illegal—but notevil—crap. After calling Mom and Ellie, I swing by The Celtic Crust, telling myself it’s to make sure that Lucy is safe. The thing is, I know she’s safe; I’ve been texting Ronan all day.

I want to see her again, but I know it’d be better to stick to the plan. The taste of her lips is unforgettable. I can’t stop thinking about her curvy body as I clutched onto the perfect thickness of her lips. Her sweet, ample ass in my hands as I carried her.

Dammit. I’m getting hard just thinking about her, and there’s something else… a twitch in my heart, the tightness in my chest. Mom was right. The morning visits to the bakery have filled my mind with too many impossible dreams.

I sit outside for about an hour until the front door opens, and Lucy emerges. She’s wearing hip-hugging jeans and a flowy shirt that takes my breath away. I stand to greet her.

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