"You… Really?"
"I figured on getting you dizzy on the teacups, or weak-kneed on Space Mountain, hit you while your defenses were down some. Of course, I'd've had a ring."
She shoved him back on the bed, rolled on top of him. "I like things clear. Is that a yes?"
"You had me when you walked into Suicide Joe's apartment." Her eyes narrowed. "As far as you knew at that point, I could've been married with six children, or a lesbian."
"Then I'd've pined for you the rest of my days. But I'm a lucky man. Been on a streak for a while now, and it's been heading straight toward you. You had me, Phoebe, the minute you walked in, and from that minute I've been sliding into love without even looking for a handhold." He tucked her hair behind her ear. "I don't mind complications, and responsibilities are just part of living if you're doing it right. We'll do it right, you and me. So yes, I accept your ringless proposal."
She laid her lips on his, then rested, cheek to cheek. "I haven't even started on the complications. I have to live in this house. I can't-"
"I like this house. That's not a complication, it's a great old house on Jones Street."
"My mother-"
"Is great. If I couldn't get you, I was going to go for her. She likes me." He trailed a finger down Phoebe's spine. "Women tend to." Phoebe shifted to look down at him. "I'd e x p e c't… I'd need you to be a father to Carly."
"Piss me off if you didn't. Relax, Phoebe." He drew her down until her head rested on his chest. "You don't have to negotiate this. It's a done deal."
"I'm so happy. It seems strange to be so happy when so much is wrong."
"Whatever's wrong, we'll fix. That's something we're both pretty good at."
"It's nearly morning," she murmured with her eyes on the window. "It's nearly time to start again."
"Close your eyes awhile. Close your eyes while you're happy, and get a little sleep."
The next thing she knew, the sun was beaming into her eyes, and her daughter was banging on the door. Thank God she'd left it locked. Phoebe gave Duncan a good, hard shake, got a grunt in response, before she sprang out of bed. "Just a minute, honey."
"Mama, why is the door locked? Mama, are you okay?"
"Fine, fine." In a flurry of motion, Phoebe rushed to the closet and yanked out her robe. "Just fine, Carly. Why don't you go on downstairs? I'll be right down."
"Your door's locked, Mama. I'll go tell Gran."
"No!" Sweet baby Jesus. "No, no, just a minute." Moving like the wind, Phoebe dragged on the robe as she bolted out of the closet. Yawning hugely, Duncan stood beside the rumpled bed lazily pulling on jeans. At a loss, Phoebe put her finger to her lips, then, unlocking her door, cracked it open an inch.
"I was sleeping, honey. I got home very late. I'll be downstairs in a few minutes."
"But your door was locked."
"Yes, I guess it was. I'll be-"
"Duncan's car's outside. But he's not downstairs, and he's not in Steven's room either."
"Oh. Well. Why don't you go see if Ava wants to make waffles for breakfast?"
"Is Duncan in there?" Carly shifted right and left to try to see through the narrow opening. Phoebe shifted left and right to block her. "Did he sleep with you last night?"
The child was a dog with a bone, Phoebe thought. Before she could speak, Duncan said, "Busted," and eased the door open. "Hey, Carly."
"Hi. Mama's door was locked so I couldn't come in."
"We got home very late," Phoebe repeated.
"How come you slept in Mama's room?" Carly asked Duncan. "And aren't you full of questions this morning, before I've even had my coffee."
"You said you have to ask questions," Carly reminded her mother. "Did you have a bad dream, Duncan? I sleep in Mama's bed sometimes when I do."
"Actually." He gave Phoebe a poke in the arm to shift her aside. "Let me ask you a question. How do you feel about your mama and me getting married?"
Carly's eyes narrowed on Duncan's face, then tracked to her mother's and back. "Because you're in love and want to sleep in bed together?"
"That's right."
"You'd be my stepdaddy?"
"I would."
"Can I have a new dress for when you get married?"
"That would be a priority."
She smiled, and Phoebe recognized the slyness. "My friend Dee got a stepdaddy, then she got a new baby brother named William. Can I have one of those, too?"
"Could be a sister, but we can name her William."
With a giggle, Carly shook her head. "Girls aren't William. We could get a puppy first, and name him William, then-"
"You're pushing your luck, kid," Phoebe warned.
"We're having a conversation here," Duncan said to Phoebe, then hunkered down so his face was level with Carly's. "I'll see what I can do about that. If I pull it off, what're you going to give me?"
Carly's face went pink, then she touched her lips, very primly, to Duncan's cheek.
"Little peck like that, for a baby and a dog? You MacNamara women are tough."
She giggled again, and the pink deepened as she hooked her arms around Duncan for a hug, and gave his cheek a noisy, smacking kiss.
Not once, Phoebe thought as she stared down at them, not once had she seen Carly and Roy hold each other. Not once had she ever seen her little girl grinning in her father's arms.
"Now that's more like it. I'm going to grab a shirt, so I don't make the women in the house swoon when I come downstairs." He set Carly back on her feet. "We'll be right along."
"Okay." She dashed off, shooting him a dazzling smile as she ran for the stairs.
"Guess she approves. Now we'll see what Essie has… What?" Panic streaked across his face as he turned and saw the tears sliding down Phoebe's. "What'd I do wrong?"
Her throat was so thick she could only shake her head as she wrapped herself around him, held tight. Tighter. "We got along without you, you know," she managed. "We got right along. But, God, oh
God, things are so much better with you."
"Happy crying." He let out a little breath of relief. "I get that."
"Very happy."
"That's good. So… how about that puppy?"
Chapter 29
The timing was perfect, and the location-that had come about largely due to luck. Or maybe, he thought, it was fate. It was Angie looking down, guiding hands.
It would be today.
A pity, a goddamn pity, pieces of McVee hadn't flown all over Barnard Street. His slut of a neighbor had intervened there. Bastard had flown some though, he thought with some satisfaction. Oh yeah, the bastard had done a little fucked-up Superman.
It had taken all the willpower he'd had not to yank out his nine from under the windbreaker and put bullets in the son of a bitch and the neighborhood slut where they lay bleeding on the side of the road. But as satisfying as that would've been, as right as it would've been, it could have cost the rest. And the endgame was in sight.
Better if McVee died, and there was always the chance of that. Better yet if there was time and opportunity to take out the boyfriend, just for good measure. And it was a damn shame he had to abort the plans to stake out the pansy-assed brother in front of the house where they grew up-with a vestload of explosives.
Cowards, a couple of dickless cowards is what they were, hiding out in that house, behind the women's skirts. Not worth his time, Walken told himself, not worth his trouble.
He continued to load his gear with careful hands.
They'd be looking for him now. Let them look. In a couple of hours, they'd know just where to find him. And he'd be where he wanted to be, doing what he'd planned to do.
Before he was done, everyone would know Phoebe MacNamara had killed an angel, just as sure as the bullet. And when it was over, it would be fucking over.