Clay just shakes his head. “We fly our own plane.”
I moan as I tumble into them, and as they start to drag me into the back of the plane, our clothes begin to hit the ground.
Life has a funny way of putting you where you need to be, or making you bump into the people you were meant to be with. It’s crazy the way the universe shakes out, or how fate walks you in the right direction.
But then, maybe it’s just flip of a card in a poker game. Maybe it’s just dumb luck.
But honestly, no matter the reason, I don’t care. Because the good guys won, the bad guy went down, and now I’ve got my happy ever after with the two most amazing men I’ve ever known.
Just call me lucky, I guess.
Epilogue
Phoebe
Dublin turned out to be exactly what I’d always been looking for. The city itself was amazing, but really, it was Clay and Eamon that made it real. We could’ve all been living on a raft in the middle of the ocean, or on an iceberg, and I’d have been fine. Because wherever they were? Wherever we were?
Well, that was home.
I ended up spending two years at my new post in the intel position with the CIA office in Dublin. But eventually, I caved.
Well, at least that’s how my guys like to describe it, jokingly.
“Guess we finally turned you to the dark side,” Clay chuckled the day I told them.
And apparently, they had.
I ended up leaving the CIA. It wasn’t that I didn’t enjoy the work, it was just that I found something that excited me even more. And if it was “joining the dark side”? Well, count me in.
Instead, I took a position with the Irish council, as an intelligence advisor to Clay, Eamon, Connor, and the other two “kings” of the council. As it turns out, not all the “kings” are guys, which is kind of great. Fiona and Shay, the other two kings, ended up becoming really good friends of mine, and I was welcomed in like family. Which, I never really had in my life.
But now, I’d found one.
And for being the “dark side”, the organization really wasn’t very “bad” at all. Okay, yes, I won’t sugar coat that it’s a criminal organization, but they’ve got a code. There’s no drug pushing or pimping girls, for one. And they’re not exactly running around doing drive-bys and starting gangland wars.
Honestly, it might be a cleaner organization that either the FBI or the CIA, all said and done.
I don’t know where my life would have taken me if I hadn’t been in that room on that fateful St. Patrick’s Day. Or if Clay and Eamon hadn’t been. Or hell, if they’d been dealt different cards, literally.
Maybe it was fate. Maybe we all got lucky.
…Maybe I’m too happy with the two most amazing men in the world by my side day and night to care one bit either way.
It’s St. Patrick’s Day again, and as I step through the doors of our favorite pub from the blustery street into the warmth of cheer and friends and family, I grin. Fiona greets me with a big hug. Shay passes me a glass of whiskey. Connor’s getting schooled in a game of darts by Collin—the guy who helped back at the bar in Boston—which is extra funny since the younger guy still has a kink in his shoulder from the bullet he took.
And then, there they are.
Clay and Eamon emerge from the crowd, wrapping me in their arms and kissing me slowly. When we first all moved in together here, we may have—and did—turn some heads when we did this in public around here. Now? No one bats an eye.
Whatever happened before, now we’ve all got each other. We’ve got our health, our family, our friends, and love. And that’s something to raise a toast to.
…Which is exactly what we do.
The End