Page 120 of Possessive Mafia Vows

I hear Victoria squealing almost before she appears through the sliding door to the arrivals lounge. She runs to me, throws her arms around my neck and hugs me tightly, then places both hands on my swollen belly and says, “It’s a girl.”

Caleb is close behind, Holly in his arms.

I don’t think a child has ever resembled her father more. Holly is a mini-Caleb, with wide green eyes and a beautiful smile that lights up her face.

She holds out her arms for me to take her, and my chest swells with love when she rests her head upon my shoulder as if it’s where she belongs.

“She remembers you.” Victoria’s eyes are damp. “Hormones,” she adds, blinking. “You’ve got this all to come.”

The Murray clan’s arrival is like a tornado sweeping through the arrivals lounge.

Emily comes running over when she spots her parents and brothers. Terry pulls her into a bear hug and swings her around, her feet above the floor, while the rest of us hug and kiss and everyone tries to guess the baby’s gender.

“It’s a girl.” Moira links arms with me, and we follow the men out of the airport to the waiting vehicles.

“Mom’s always right.” Cash winks at me from over his shoulder.

He looks older. I notice the first strands of silver in his thick hair, and he seems to have lost the boisterous energy that always followed him around like a wall-climbing shadow. Or maybe he has matured a little since his arrest. The charges were dropped—Kyle worked tirelessly to prove that all the evidence against him had been planted—but it must’ve been a wake-up call, nonetheless.

Bash is still Bash. Calm, laid-back, and eyeing up a blond woman in a halter-neck dress scrolling through her social media apps while she waits for someone to arrive.

“Are you sure you still want to go ahead with having the wedding in a meadow, Sienna?” Moira asks as we step out into the sunshine.

Summers in Ireland are glorious, I’ve realized; another reason why I’m tempted to stay. No pollution. No traffic fumes. No hazy artificial heat like the bubble that surrounds New York Citythrough July and August. Just endless blue sky, green fields, and calm sea.

“I’m sure.” I tilt my face towards the sun’s rays.

I never really thought about the kind of wedding I wanted when I was younger, but it makes perfect sense now that we’re here, like this was the way it was always meant to be. Like everything that ever happened to me, my father, my mom dying too young, the accident; it was all building up to this moment.

It was always going to be Kyle, right from the first moment I met him when he was Kenickie, and I was Wilma.

“What about your dress?” Moira continues. “Aren’t you worried that it will be ruined? What shoes will you wear?”

“I’m getting married barefoot.” I smile at Kyle who is holding open the passenger door to the MPV waiting to take us home. “So is Kyle.”

“You can go barefoot too, Mom,” he says.

“I will,” Emily chimes as she climbs into the back seat of the car ahead of us. “Sienna, I invited Eoghan Byrne to the wedding. I hope you don’t mind.”

Her eyes are bright; I recognize that look. It’s the same gleam that I see in Victoria’s eyes whenever she and Caleb are together. It’s how I feel whenever I’m with Kyle.

“Is that the guy from the airport?” I ask.

“Did I hear the name Eoghan Byrne?” Terry’s expression is serious. “Declan Byrne’s son? The same Declan Byrne who?—”

“Terry.” One word from Moira, and he presses his lips together.

“Dad, relax.” Emily pokes her head back out of the car, “Do you have any idea how many people are called in Byrne in Ireland?”

Kyle comes up behind me and hugs my belly, nuzzling my neck, his warm breath on my cheek. “You’d better get used to this, my love. The Murray men are a protective bunch.”

I kiss the tip of his nose. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

And I mean it.

THE END

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