I got his misty smile before he dipped his head and then I got his warm lips.

He kissed me.

It wasn’t wild and hard and amazing.

It was slow and sweet and amazing.

And apparently it lasted five minutes, because when he ended it, he lifted his head and whispered, “Gotta go pick up Cill, darlin’.”

I held on because I had to (slow and sweet also did a number on me) and I nodded.

He gently pulled away but held my hand as he walked me down the wharf and to his truck. He put me in. He got in. He backed out. I took deep breaths.

Then I let all that settle inside me.

I’d fretted.

I’d worried.

And Mickey made it easy.

That was when I smiled.

We drove and got Cillian, who hefted himself into the backseat, crying, “Hey, Amy!” then took up the entire conversation babbling all the way home.

Mickey didn’t drive to his driveway. He drove to mine.

Then he turned in his seat and said to his son, “You can get out and run home or you can hang and I’ll drive you there, but not makin’ Amy walk in her shoes.”

“Wiped so I’ll hang,” Cillian said to his dad and looked to me. “See you later, Amy.”

I turned in my seat too. “Later, kiddo.”

I got Cillian’s grin, which also brought relief since the last time I saw him he was far from grinning.

Then Mickey and I got out and he again held my hand, right in front of his son, as he walked me to my front door.

When we got there and I got it open, he surprised me by stepping in with me.

He also surprised me by shoving me to the side.

It wouldn’t be a surprise after he did this when he took me in his arms and kissed me again, this time hard and deep, but short. So I knew he shoved me to the side so not only could Cillian not see us from the drive, but if Aisling was home, she couldn’t see us from their house.

When he lifted his head, he noted, “Your turn to have us over to dinner, Amy.”

“Tomorrow okay?” I replied instantly and got his easy grin.

“Yeah,” he whispered.

“Good,” I whispered back.

“Kids wanna go back to Dove House,” he told me.

I nodded. I wanted them back too, and so did the oldies.

“I’ll talk to Dela and arrange it with the kids tomorrow night.”

“Great,” he murmured, eyes dropping to my mouth.

That was when I said something I didn’t want to say.

“Cill’s in the truck, honey.”

His gaze lifted to mine. “Right.”

I pressed closer in his arms, tightening mine still around his shoulders. “It was a good night.”

“Yeah.”

“Thank you, Mickey.”

“We’ll do it again, Amy.”

We’d do it again.