Driving the Mob (Steamy Standalone Instalove)

Extended Epilogue

Ten Years Later

Molly

“I’m telling you, Molly, the future is in fake nails. I see it all the time in music videos and the like.”

I nod along as Lesley talks to me about her new business. She’s the latest in Dad’s girlfriend’s now that he’s entered the dating scene after so many years, and somehow I don’t think she’s going to be staying around for very long.

She’s got the big hair and the attitude from New Jersey, and she’s very pretty, but Dad has purposefully stayed on the other side of the party, talking with Murphy at the barbecue.

I look across the pool separating us, at Bella standing up with her arms over her head, growling playfully at Jack and Tamara, our five year old twins giggling and kicking their legs as their big sister advances on them. Everybody says Bella looks just like me, with her full dark hair and her full figure, but Jack and Tamara are all Murphy.

Jack especially is like Murphy’s mini-me, with the same jawline and the same penetrating azure eyes.

Everyone says little Jack is going to be a lady killer when he grows up.

I smile over to where Kenny sits, crossed leg on a lawn chair with a book open in his lap. Kenny is our eight year old and the most sensitive of the bunch, a cute-as-heck baby who turned into an even cuter little boy. He’s got soft brown hair that falls across his eyes, and a smile that just melts my heart.

He’d much rather disappear into a world of imagination than play in the pool, and that’s okay with us. Murphy and I are letting our children develop and flourish because we know how important it is to support somebody.

We’ve supported each other for ten freaking years.

I run a rally racing school that has produced some real talent, and more and more of my husband’s businesses are turning legitimate.

We have money and security and love…

And Dad’s new girlfriend is still talking to me, jabbering about fake nails.

I almost cry with relief when Buttercup tugs on my sleeve. Her real name is Delilah but ever since she could say it, she’s insisted we call her Buttercup.

It’s just one of the many things that make my shy six year old so endearing.

I look down into her dark eyes. Her dark hair is a braid over her shoulder.

“Do you think I can go in the pool, Mommy?”

I laugh, nodding. “Of course you can, baby.”

“But… No—I mean, will you come in the pool with me? Please?”

I look down at my dress. It’s a light fabric and I have got a bathing suit underneath. I feel my mind flitting to old concerns, the sort of body-hating things that would’ve held me back when I was a younger woman.

Before my family, before Buttercup gazing up at me with her trustful eyes, I wouldn’t let myself swim for fear of people judging my body. But this is a body that has brought five beautiful children into this world, and I refuse to devalue that.

“Of course,” I say, nodding a silent apology to Lesley.

I grab Buttercup’s hand and we walk over to the edge of the pool. Dad smiles at us from the other side, and my man smirks at us as he stands there with the cooking smoke whispering around his face.

He’s grown his beard out a little lately, a solid iron coating, and his hair is as full and silver as ever.

“Going for a swim, wife?” he smiles.

“Mommy’s going to be my swimming buddy,” Buttercup says, tugging on my hand. “Aren’t you, Mommy?”

“Daddy’s not good enough, huh?” Murphy teases, pulling Buttercup’s favorite funny face, the one that never fails to make her laugh.

She giggles, flapping her hands. “Daddy, I asked you and you said you were busy.”

“Oh, I see,” I laugh, reaching down and tickling her lightly. “So I’m your second choice.”

She glares at me, even as she smiles. “Mommy, you’re my swimming buddy so let’s go.”

I pull my dress over my head, revealing my one piece, and I see Murphy quickly look away. That’s what he always does whenever we’re in public and he gets excited because even after all this time he will claim me like an animal at a moment’s notice.

Buttercup and I walk right to the edge of the pool hand in hand.

I look down at her and she gazes down at me.

“Ready, Buttercup?”

She nods. “Ready, Mommy.”

We jump.