Exhaling: A Mafia Romance (The O'Keefe Family Collection Book 3) Read online

  The outrage was quickly replaced with flabbergast, which was then swept away by shouts of joy and celebration after the death threats on Vince reached a crescendo. “You’re pregnant?! I call godfather!”

  “I call favorite uncle!”

  Fallyn was squeezed in tight hugs and Vince was actually clapped on the back in congratulations by the brothers. Everything was the happiest kind of chaos. Vince was able to relax when they finally sat down to eat dinner, chuckling at the ridiculous demands the brothers had on Fallyn’s safety.

  Fallyn sat back in her seat, tucked into her husband’s side. A contented smile brushed color onto her face. The hugs had been so exuberant and the excitement so high that no one had noticed when Fallyn plucked a few strands of hair from her father’s head when she got up to hug him, tucking them in a napkin in her pocket for later.

  14

  Sausage, Sickness and Salvatore

  “You really didn’t have to pick up any sausage. You don’t have to go running for every little craving.” Fallyn shook her head in mock scolding up at her husband. “I’m really fine.”

  Vince kissed her nose after setting down the grocery bags. “Actually, that’s the thing about being the father of your baby. I absolutely do need to go running to the store every single time you have a craving. See, the more I do that, then the more the thing you’re craving is me.”

  “Well played. But seriously, you didn’t have to do this. When you say you want something, I don’t jump up and go get it from the store.”

  “When I’m knocked up, that’ll have to change. And you know your morning sickness lasts all day. I’ve never heard of a pregnant woman ralphing because she was craving something and couldn’t get her hands on it, but man! That was intense. I thought the ralphing was supposed to happen if you ate something that didn’t agree with you, not if you couldn’t get your hands on a food fast enough.”

  “Dude, like only six times that happened.”

  “Dude,” he mocked her, “it’s been way more than that, and you know it. Now go lie down while I cook this up. You know you’re supposed to spend sixteen hours a day lying down. How many have you clocked so far today?”

  “Enough,” Fallyn answered, ducking her head to dodge the lecture she knew was coming. When Vince guffawed at her blatant lie, she harrumphed. “It’s boring to lie around all day. I’ve read every book in the world, I’m not a TV person, and I took a two-hour nap this afternoon. Two hours!”

  “Out of how many? Sixteen. That’s right. Two down, and it’s already seven o’clock in the evening. You’re benched for the night, tesoro.”

  “Sir, yes sir!” Fallyn saluted him with too much sass. She marched to the couch in the living room and laid down, fully aware that she was pouting like a child. She stared up at the ceiling and listened to the sounds of the kitchen come to life at the capable hands of her husband.

  She’d just turned the corner into her second trimester, and the assurances that her morning sickness would go away and the mood swings would calm down were, as of yet, completely false. She still emptied her stomach every morning and a few times throughout the day and whenever a craving got to be too much without being quelled. She wished her mother was there to warn her about the nuances of pregnancy and motherhood. She wished her mother was there for a good number of reasons.

  The paternity test results from the hair samples she’d taken from her unknowing father were still in a sealed envelope she hadn’t had the heart to open yet. So much might change with that one small piece of information. Her life already felt upside down as it was. She didn’t want to add more to the mix and risk tipping the boat.

  The bell chirped throughout the house, announcing that someone let themselves in with their key. Despite the great lengths Vince had gone to ensure the house would be a fortress, he got up to make sure the newcomer was, in fact, welcome there. Fallyn heard Joey’s lively cadence coming through the walls and stood to greet her brother-in-law. The moment she poked her head around the corner to peek into the kitchen where the men were talking, Vince threw his hands into the air, exasperated. “What was that, three minutes? Sixteen hours of bedrest per day, Fal. Back on the couch.” He pointed toward the living room with his red spatula.

  Fallyn rolled her eyes. “Sixteen hours isn’t a to-the-minute rule. It’s an approximation. I feel fine.” She looked longingly at the sausages still in the package, her stomach lurching toward the raw meat. Vince had started sautéing the peppers and onions, and as soon as Fallyn stepped all the way into the kitchen, her mouth began to water. “That smells amazing. How long on the sausage? Can I help?”

  “You can help psychically from the couch. I’ll bring you out some sausage the very second it’s done.”

  Fallyn harrumphed, turning on her heel and stomping toward the couch. Halfway there, her stomach flipped, screaming at her for just a bite of the sausage (or fifty bites). It had been a couple months of the familiar rabid longing, and she knew what was coming. She had about thirty seconds before she threw up if she didn’t get some sausage, and she knew they wouldn’t be cooked in time. Fallyn beelined to the bathroom, barely making it before she started dry heaving. As often as she vomited, Vince had taken to stocking all four bathrooms in the house with a toothbrush for her and a fluffy towel for her to kneel on tucked inside every sink.

  Vince opened the bathroom door, his shoulders drooping. “I only needed ten minutes, babe. I’m sorry. I tried to be so quick. The sausages are still pretty raw.”

  Fallyn groaned over the toilet. “Ugh. Don’t say sausages unless you’ve got one ready for me. Or unless you’ve got all the sausages in the world on a plate.” Just the thought of the delicious food made her stomach scream all over again. A loud belch exploded from her, along with the remainder of her stomach’s meager contents.

  “Oh, babe! I’m sorry.” He dropped to his knees next to her, banding one arm around her swollen stomach and holding her hair back with the other. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

  Fallyn vomited impossibly more, wishing he understood that she would rather he never saw her like this. Given that she spent every morning puking and then again several times throughout the day, it was inevitable he would be present for a fair amount of stomach pyrotechnics. “I’m fine. It’s not that bad.”

  “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He stood and poured her a glass of water from the sink, kneeling next to her after she flushed the toilet to tip the cup to her trembling and pale lips. “It’s my baby that’s making you so sick. The doctor said you have to go in if you throw up four times in a day. How many is that? Isn’t that four?”

  “Two,” Fallyn lied. It was her fifth time that day, but she was so tired of the hospital. They hooked her up to IVs and gave her strong medicine when the sickness got so bad that she couldn’t keep water down. “I’m fine. It’s all fine. Just a little grosser than a typical Tuesday. Not my favorite.”

  “I held your hair back three times today. Three, not two.”

  Fallyn grimaced. “Oh. Yeah, I guess you’re right. Forgot about that one.”

  Vince shot her a look of suspicion as he wet a rag with cold water to press to her face. “Better?” he asked, watching her deflate in his arms as he pressed the compress to her forehead.

  Fallyn nodded, sagging in his embrace. Through all the intense sickness that seemed never ending, she was grateful she had Vince. “I love you. I’m sorry I’m not a glowing pregnant woman. I’m puky and sweaty and gross.”

  “No joke,” Joey commented from the doorway, his arms crossed over his muscular chest. “That’s intense, Fally. I thought Vince was exaggerating. All that was just because you had a craving for sausage?”

  At the mention of her favorite food of the day, Fallyn belched again, leaning over the toilet just in case another wave came. “Don’t say sausage! I’m dying over here.”

  Vince snapped his fingers at his brother. “Go finish up dinner.” He lifted her hair off her neck and pressed the cool rag over the warmed skin
, smiling as her shoulders drooped again. “Take a minute. Just breathe.”

  Vince’s phone rang twice in his pocket before he grew frustrated at having to turn away from his wife to handle his business. “Answer it. I’m fine, really.”

  “Yeah?” Vince answered, annoyed right off the bat. “The river’s fine. I don’t really care how you get it done, just get it done. I don’t want a problem from Salvatore’s people anymore. They’re either in or out.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. “On second thought, not the river. Doesn’t send as much of a message.” He grunted a few times at the caller’s suggestions. “Fine. Just make sure you deliver the body to Salvatore’s doorstep. Yeah, piece by piece is fine.” When he hung up, he shot Fallyn an apologetic look. “Sorry about that. I’m really trying to be home when I’m home and at work when I’m at work.” He helped her up, handing her the pink toothbrush.

  “It’s fine. Daddy and Kill had to field stuff from home all the time. We all understood.” She brushed her teeth with a shaking hand. Her body felt so jerked around. Eating and then getting violently sick over and over for months was starting to take its toll on her. She wiped her mouth off on the hand towel, and when Vince offered his arm to her, she leaned on him. Normally she didn’t care to be escorted around in her own home, but that day she had thrown up so often and so aggressively, she had a hard time willing strength into her legs.

  Vince lowered her to the couch in the living room, covering her with an afghan his mother had knitted. It had red, white and green squares, stretching long and wide enough to cover Papa D when he’d used it. It engulfed the much smaller Fallyn, warming her cold limbs. “You don’t look so good, honey.” Vince lifted her feet to rest on the couch, and then touched the back of his hand to her forehead. “I think you should go in and have them look at you.”

  “I’m fine. We were just there not five days ago, Vince.” Fallyn made to sit up when the doorbell rang, but Vince shushed her back down. “I can get it,” she insisted.

  “So can I. Sixteen hours lying down, dolcezza. Sixteen.” He kissed her fingers and stood to get the door. When he came back, it was with a stormy expression, his fists clenched at his sides. “Your dog came to visit.”

  Behind Vince stood Carrigan, his hands shoved in his jeans pockets, his red shirt making his auburn hair glow with hints of crimson and orange. “Hey, Fally. I was in the neighborhood.”

  Fallyn was shocked to see her brother. She had gone from seeing or talking to Carrigan several times a week to not having heard a peep from him since he’d beaten up Vince when he’d first found out about their relationship. Killian had come to visit her, as had Declan, Finn and Danny, but Seamus and Carrigan had not. Seamus preferred communicating with Fallyn over the phone where he wouldn’t run into Vince and accidentally punch him, which suited everyone just fine. Carrigan had kept quiet and distant, permitting her marriage through his veil of stark disapproval.

  “Um, hi.” Fallyn blinked up at her brother.

  “Hey. You got the flu or something?”

  “No, you tool,” Vince spat. “She’s pregnant. She’s sick morning, noon and night – not that you care.”

  “Huh. I thought it was called morning sickness because you only got sick in the morning.”

  Vince’s jaw was tight. “She’s got hyperemesis gravidarum. It’s where she’s sick all the time and is constantly in and out of the hospital to make sure she doesn’t dehydrate. You delivering a message or something? Because you can leave that at the door instead of coming in here and making everything awkward.”

  Carrigan glared at Vince. “I came to talk to my sister, not fight with you.”

  Vince jabbed his finger toward Fallyn. “Oh, now she’s your sister all of a sudden? Let me tell you, if you upset her in any way, I’ll throw you out of our house the fun way. That’s right, our house, not mine.”

  Carrigan exhaled his frustration with Vince. “Could you be more of a pain right now? I’m here. I came to talk to her, not you. Now beat it.”

  Fallyn waited for Vince to leave the room to answer his phone, and then she waved her brother forward. “You came to see me,” she breathed, relieved through her weakness to see the man who had been her best friend through so many ups and downs. “You’re really here?”

  Carrigan cast around for the best place to sit and opted for the carpet next to her place on the couch, so their conversation could remain private. “I’m here. Should’ve been here all along. I didn’t know you’ve been this sick. Why didn’t Kill say something?”

  “I’ve been trying to hide it as best I can, but when they noticed, I asked them not to say anything.”

  “Why? Why wouldn’t you tell me that?”

  “You didn’t ask. You haven’t asked about me or the baby. I honestly didn’t know you cared.”

  “I ask the guys all the time. Just because I don’t call you anymore doesn’t mean I don’t care.”

  Fallyn fiddled with a loose bit of yarn on the afghan. “I didn’t want you to come see me because you felt sorry for me. I wanted you to come when you were ready.”

  “I’m ready now.” Carrigan picked up her hand, warming it between his. “You look thin. What’s the deal with this baby sucking the life outta you?”

  “That’s the thing about babies. This one’d better be cute, that’s all I’ve got to say.”

  “Are you tired? Should I come back another time? Looks like I interrupted you taking a nap or something.”

  “No. My stupid doctor’s even more overbearing than Vince. Said I have to lie down sixteen hours a day. Sixteen! I have it on high suspicion he got his medical degree off the back of a truck somewhere.”

  “Jeez, Fal. That can’t be good. Is something wrong with the baby? How’s everything looking with my… niece? Nephew?”

  “Fine. We’re not finding out the sex of the baby, if that’s what you’re fishing for.”

  “I was. Darn.” He lowered his voice. “I want you to tell me the truth. Is Vince being okay to you? No joke, you look like death warmed over. You want to come stay at my place for a while?”

  Fallyn patted Carrigan’s cheek. “Vince is great to me. A ridiculously over the top solid baby daddy. Even though he’s stressed with work stuff, he drops everything if he thinks I might need him. If I wasn’t so miserably sick, I’d be able to say without a doubt that I’m happy here with him.”

  “I guess that’s good.” Carrigan leaned his shoulder to the edge of the couch, resting his head gently on Fallyn’s stomach. When her clammy fingers snaked through his hair, he closed his eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for all of it. I should’ve been cool, and I wasn’t. No matter how I felt, I should’ve found a way to be there for you.”

  Fallyn’s mouth dropped open in surprise at the weight he’d been carrying that he finally unburdened himself from. She soothed his angst by rubbing his head, noting the frown that seemed etched into his face. “I forgive you. You beat Vince up, though, so you need to apologize to him.”

  Carrigan stiffened, and then slumped. “Fine. If that’s what you want, I’ll do it.” He looked defeated, and tired beyond the usual long shift. “I missed you. I thought cutting you off from me would hurt you, but it only hurt me. It’s… there’s been a lot going on, and it sucked not having you to talk to about it.”

  “Then next time you get pissy, don’t cut me off. That sucks, Carri. You hurt me on purpose.”

  “I know.” He squeezed her hand. “I’m sorry.”

  Fallyn waited a few beats before breaking the tension. “What’d I miss? You look unhappy.”

  “I am. You’d think with half the criminals gone on the west end, things would be easier at work, but now the lower offenders are coming to the surface. The chief wants to crack down on a lot of things, which is good overall, but I’m not the one doing the cracking down. I’m doing traffic nonsense and writing tickets to angry soccer moms going ten over. It’s so boring. It’s like I’ve been benched.”

  “Blah,
” Fallyn agreed. “Something else is going on. Something big.” She smoothed a wrinkle between his eyebrows. “You’ve got your ‘I’m burdened by a secret’ wrinkle right there. That’s how I know.”

  Carrigan frowned and rubbed the spot she indicated. “Well, that’s not cool. How am I supposed to hide stuff from you if my face is giving me away?”

  “I think the point of us is that we’re not supposed to hide stuff from each other.” She flicked his earlobe. “I shouldn’t have hid Vince from you for so long. The others, sure, but not you. You deserved better than that. I mean, not now after being such a jerk for so long. But months ago when you were decent, you deserved better.”

  “That’s some apology, Fal. You should print that out and frame it for me.”

  “I’m sorry,” she admitted. “Now tell me what’s wrong.”

  Carrigan sighed, sinking his head further into his sister’s slightly round belly. “I think I met someone.”

  “Oh! Really? That’s great! Oh, is she nice? Is she cute? Please tell me she gets your terrible jokes.”

  Carrigan smiled at the light in his sister’s blue eyes. “See? That’s how I should’ve reacted to finding out about you and Vince. Yes, she’s nice and beautiful and laughs along with my jokes, so I think that counts.” His face fell again. “She’s just like, super religious.”

  “Like, has a problem with all the killing our families do, or actually goes to church more than twice a year kind of religious?”

  “Probably both. She doesn’t know about the family business stuff. I’ve been… Oh, this is going to sound strange. I’ve been going to church with her.”