“Famished, ma’am.”

  “Good.” She smiles, deepening a few fine lines near her eyes.

  “Dylan,” Joe says, waiting for me to look his way, and when I do, he continues. “Can I talk to you a minute?”

  Rosie squeezes my arm before releasing me, giving me my answer before I have a chance to reply. “Sure,” I say, praying this doesn’t end in disaster.

  We’ve never had a civil conversation in my life, but I was also an asshole teenager, and he was an old man who complained about everything.

  “We’ll only be a minute, darling,” Joe says to Rosie and not me. “I won’t keep him. I promise.”

  Rosie nods before popping up on her tiptoes and kissing my cheek. “He’s not a complete asshole,” she whispers, reminding me. “I’ll be waiting in the kitchen when you’re done.”

  “Got it, wildcat,” I tell her before looking to Joe.

  He’s standing near what seems to be a study off the foyer. “After you,” he says with his arm extended.

  I walk in, looking around at the rows upon rows of books and four leather chairs in a circle with a large wooden table in the middle.

  “Sit,” he tells me.

  Never in a million years would I have believed I’d be seeing Rosie Gallo or that Joe Gallo wouldn’t be acting like an absolute tool to me and warning his daughter away from me.

  He did in the beginning. I heard the shitty things he said, but I no longer see the same distaste for me that he didn’t bother to hide before.

  He takes a seat opposite me and runs his hands up and down his thighs before leaning forward and staring straight at me. “First, I want to talk about the guy from the other night.”

  “Twice, he’s laid hands on her, and twice, I’ve beaten him. He shouldn’t—”

  “He’s been relocated,” he says calmly.

  I tilt my head and furrow my brows. “Relocated?”

  He nods. “You’ll never see him again.”

  I blink, staring at his calm demeanor, knowing those words don’t mean the guy moved out of the town or state. “You…”

  “I, nothing. The man won’t be a problem again, but I want to thank you for looking out for my daughter both times he touched her.”

  “She did most of the work the last time.”

  Joe smiles a proud papa smile, something I’d never been given from my own father. “She always was a quick learner and tougher than her twin.”

  “She’s one of the best,” I reply.

  “I know I was an asshole to you in the past,” he says, leaving any talk of the guy behind us.

  Well, alrighty then.

  I guess it’s not my place to ask for more details. Secrets only stay secrets when as few people as possible know the information, and I’m clearly not part of the inner circle…yet.

  “No, sir. You weren’t.”

  He tilts his head the opposite direction as he leans back in the chair, staring at me with a look that says he knows I’m lying through my teeth. “I was wrong. I judged you based on the type of man your father was, and that wasn’t right of me to do. You are not him, and you were a kid.”

  I stare back at him, unsure of what to say. “Well…”

  He holds up a hand. “I know you hated me, which was fair. I was never kind to you when you were an older kid. When you were younger, I was, but then you turned into an angry, mouthy teenager.”

  “You would, too, if you grew up in my house.”

  He nods and drops his hand back to his leg. “I’m sure I would’ve been mouthier and angrier.”

  “Impossible,” I mumble.

  “When you were younger, I called Child Services a few times about what was happening at your house.”

  My eyes widen, never having known who made the calls. “It was you?”

  “Yeah, kid. Saw shit that didn’t sit right with me, but every time they came out, they didn’t do shit. Figured maybe I was reading everything wrong.”

  I shake my head. “You weren’t, but my old man was good at covering his tracks, and his drinking buddy had connections, making it damn near impossible for anyone to take us.”

  “I’m sorry about that.”

  I shrug. “Shit happens. What’s in the past is staying there, buried with my old man. I appreciate you looking out for us, even though nothing came of it. Sure as hell pissed him off for a long time afterward. He always figured it was one of us who called. Took some beatings for it too.”

  A shadow passes across his face. “Fuck,” he hisses, closing his eyes and taking a depth breath. When his eyes open again, the emotion is hidden. “I never meant for that to happen.”

  “In the past,” I remind him. “Leave it there.”

  He nods, hopefully understanding what I’m saying. I need it to stay there underneath all the dirt and hidden from the light of day.

  “I used to watch you with your family when I was young,” I admit to him, and I can’t stop the sad smile on my face. “I looked at your three girls and knew they were the luckiest little shits in the world. You doted on them, and Suzy doted on all four of you. I’d watch for hours from the tree that straddled the properties, trying to imagine what it would be like to be in a family like that.”

  “Shit,” he mumbles, shaking his head. “I should’ve done more for you and your brothers.”

  “Buried,” I remind him with a cold stare. “I just want you to know that although I thought you were a total asshole, I respected you for the way you treated your family.”

  “And while I thought you were an asshole up until a few days ago, I have to say I appreciate and respect the way you protected my daughter,” he tells me. “I see the way she leans on you for support and safety, something I used to do for her. But there comes a time in every father’s life when we have to let our kids go, at least a little bit. It’s my time to step back and let her live her life, allowing her to fall in love and support her through whatever that man or life in general throws at her.”

  “Okay.”

  “But make no mistake, you hurt my kid or fuck up, I will be the first one in your face about whatever the hell you did.”

  “Fair enough.”

  “I hope you can forgive me for the past and know that I support your relationship with my girl.”

  “Again, no need to forgive. I’ve moved on.”

  “No, son. There is a need to apologize and ask for forgiveness. As a man and the head of my family, I’m never too proud to realize when I’ve done wrong and do everything in my power to be a better person. I was wrong about you. I always wanted my daughters to be with men who would see the specialness in them that I do, and I believe you see that in Rosie.”

  “I do.”

  “And I know you’re cut from the same cloth as me and will willingly put yourself in harm’s way to keep her safe.”

  “Always.”

  He leans forward again. The years of having three daughters growing up and causing chaos are written all over his face in the deep lines and smattering of gray on top of his head and in his beard. “You have my blessing. All I ask is that you treat her well, protect her the best you can, and love her as deeply as she’ll love you.”

  “You have my promise, sir.”

  “Joe,” he corrects.

  “You have my promise, Joe.”

  “I know you don’t have much family and no parents, but I will be here just as much for you as I am for anyone else in my family. You’re no longer alone. You have a house filled with people out there.” He ticks his chin toward the doors behind me. “And every single one of them will have your back anytime you need them.”

  My nose itches, and I’m doing my best not to let my eyes start leaking at his kind words. I’ve never had anyone at my back. Not my father. Not my brothers. No one. It’s always been me against the world. I pull in a deep breath, letting the weight of his words sink in, and they’re heavy, too.

  “Thank you.”

  “But make no mistake, you fuck up, and they’ll have Rosie’s back.”

  “Wouldn’t expect anything less.” I smile, pushing away whatever jumble of feelings has started to seep in from our conversation. “I know I could be relocated too.”

  He chuckles. “Our relocation program is reserved for very special assholes. You’d have to fuck up on an epic scale to get the same treatment.”

  “Duly noted,” I tell him, understanding what he’s saying without him actually having to spell it out.

  He stands, and so do I, ready to get back to my girl and the house full of people and food. He extends a hand to me as soon as he walks around the table that had separated us. “You’re not alone anymore, kid. Remember that. At times, it may be difficult to fully grasp what that means, but one phone call and you’ll have a small army of people at your back, Dylan.”

  I slide my palm into his, liking this man I’ve spent my entire life hating. “Thank you, Joe. I hope I’m worthy.”

  “Just keep my girl happy and safe,” he says before releasing his grip on my hand. “Now, let’s get out there before my wife or mother chews my ass out for taking too much of your time. Women are amazing creatures, but their capacity to get pissed about the dumbest shit is extremely high, and it only gets worse with age.”

  “Rosie’s pretty calm.”

  “For now…” He slaps me on the back, guiding me toward the door, and when he opens it, Rosie’s on the other side along with her mother, arms crossed and waiting.

  “Hey, wildcat,” I say, soaking her in along with her mother. She definitely gets her beauty from her and her kindness.

  I always thought of her mother as a saint for putting up with her father’s shit, but now I understand it. Rosie is exactly like her mother and willing to put up with mine.

  “You two done?” Suzy asks, staring at her husband like she fully expected one of us to come out of the room bloodied.

  “Sugar,” he whispers, stalking over to her and sliding an arm around her waist. “You miss me?”

  Suzy leans into him, something I’d often seen her do as a kid when they were in the yard. “I was worried.”

  “Don’t worry, baby. I’ve mellowed with age.”

  “Thank God,” she whispers, peering up at him in relief.

  “You good?” Rosie asks me as I wrap my arms around her, pulling her into me.

  “Couldn’t be better.”

  She studies my face and must see something she likes and believes. “Good. Now, let’s go. Everyone’s waiting.”

  I place my fingers under her chin, forcing her to keep her eyes on me as I lean in and give her a soft and short kiss. “Thank you,” I whisper.

  “For what?” she asks, her blue eyes sparkling in the sunlight streaming through the foyer windows.

  “For all of this and for being with me. For making me feel welcome and worthy. For giving me time with your family and not making me feel like an outsider.”

  “We’ll see if you still feel that way after a little more time with my aunt Fran,” she says, giggling.

  “As long as Bear doesn’t kick my ass, Fran can touch me all she wants, wildcat.”

  Rosie raises an eyebrow. “Be careful what you wish for, buddy.”

  “I love you, Rosie,” I say softly so only she can hear. Words I’ve never spoken to another human in my entire life. Not my father and not even my brothers because we never said mushy shit around our house. No one in my entire life has made me feel welcome or even worth a damn, but Rosie Gallo does it.

  I don’t care that we’ve only spent a few days with each other. None of that matters. She makes me feel like I’m worthy of happiness, and saying those three words to her gives me more joy than anything I’ve ever said to anyone before.

  “I love you too,” she says easily and without hesitating before planting her lips on mine.

  And for the first time in my entire life, I’m looking forward to the future and seeing a world of possibilities.

  Epilogue

  Rosie

  Almost One Year Later

  Dylan leans over, staring at the small human in my arms, as he sits on the side of the hospital bed. “He’s just so…so…”

  “Perfect,” I whisper, trying not to wake the baby. I’m exhausted after being in labor for twelve hours, but never happier than I am in this very moment.

  “I was going to say tiny, but we can go with your words too,” he says, smiling. “I mean, his face is smushed and his head is a little lopsided, but if you say he’s perfect, then he is.”

  I stare up at my husband, loving and hating his brutal honesty. “Dylan,” I warn, not having my usual sense of humor because I feel as if my body’s been through a war.

  He lifts his hand, moving the blanket away from our baby boy’s face. “He’s beautiful like his momma.”

  “I don’t feel beautiful,” I mutter, knowing I look like shit because I feel like it too.

  Dylan peers up, staring at me the same way he did the first time he told me he loved me. “I’ve never seen a creature more beautiful than you are now. You did something I can never do. You gave me a gift which I can never give to you.”

  “Baby, he wouldn’t be in my arms if it weren’t for you. I didn’t make him alone.”

  “I didn’t grow him inside me, Ro. I didn’t keep him safe and healthy for the last nine months.”

  “You kept us safe and healthy,” I tell him, holding out the baby to Dylan. “Take him.”

  Dylan slides his arm underneath our son with ease, having had practice with his younger brothers when he was just a kid himself. “I take it back,” he says to me as I yawn. “He’s perfect.”

  I smile, my eyes getting heavy, but I force them to stay open. “He’s like his daddy.”

  “Nah, Momma. This one’s all you.”

  I relax into the bed, watching my two men together for the first time. “Does he look like a Salvatore?”

  There’s a softness on Dylan’s face I usually only see when he’s looking at me. “It fits him perfectly. Your grandfather may have more hair, but I hope our little boy has the same wisdom and heart as the old guy.”

  “You better not let him hear you call him old.”

  “He’s like a hundred years old, Ro. I think he knows.”

  I chuckle and don’t even have the energy to smack him. “He’s not that old.”

  Dylan gets up from the bed, holding our little man in his arms. He sways slowly, rocking our little boy gently in his arms. “Welcome to the world, Salvatore Joseph,” he says softly, looking at Sal like he’s the most precious and important thing he’s ever laid eyes on. “I promise to always love and protect you, giving you all the love you deserve and more. You couldn’t have a better mommy.”

  “Or daddy,” I add, watching my two men.

  “I hope I’m worthy of him, Ro,” Dylan replies, running his fingers over the smattering of strawberry-blond hair on top of Sal’s head. “I had a shit role model.”

  “You’re not him, Dylan.”

  He peers over at me, staying in constant motion. “I know, love. I know. And if this would’ve happened a year ago, I would’ve been freaking the fuck out, but being part of your family changed me.”

  “You were always that man underneath.”

  Dylan stops and slides back into the bed with me. “You brought him out, reminding me of who I was. Without you…”

  I place my hand on his arm, soaking in the sweet face of our boy. “We never have to worry about what could’ve been. This is how it is supposed to be.”

  Dylan shakes his head, smiling from ear to ear. “Salvatore Joseph Gallo,” he whispers in awe.

  “There’s something so beautiful about that name.”

  “You know your family thinks we’re a little off in the head,” he tells me. “Men don’t usually take their wife’s last name.”

  I nod. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  When we went to fill out our marriage license a few days after we found out we were expecting, Dylan made it clear to the county clerk that I wouldn’t be taking his name. He felt Walsh was tainted, and he didn’t want the stigma in town to follow our kid into his future. He insisted that he take my name, passing it down to our children instead, and to say I was beside myself with joy is an understatement.

  “You made Dad happy,” I say.

  He smiles. “The old guy is a sap for sure.”

  “You got major brownie points for that stunt, and I’m pretty sure you can never do any wrong in his eyes anymore.”

  “Oh, I’m sure I’ll fuck up at some point.”

  “Hello,” Luna says, knocking on the hospital room door as she pops her head inside.

  Her hair is a mess, wild and matted on one side, and her lipstick is smeared. “Can we come in?”

  “We?” I ask.

  She laughs, opening the door for Ian to stick his head inside the room too.

  “Nice shade,” Dylan tells his brother as we see where Luna’s lipstick has gone.

  “Oh Jesus,” I mumble. “You’re going to give Dad a heart attack.”

  Ian lifts his black T-shirt, wiping away what Luna calls the perfect shade of red from his lips. “We were just passing time. We’ve been here for hours.”

  “You know,” I say, staring at them with nothing but love, “most people would talk to fill the hours.”

  “Not that much to say,” Luna informs me as she walks softly into the room like she’s scared of waking a sleeping giant. “And sex is way more fun too.”

  “Can’t argue that,” Ian agrees with her. “I don’t like spending too much time in this place after…” Ian shivers, having spent way too many days and nights inside these walls, battling and eventually overcoming his cancer, thanks to Dylan’s bone marrow.

  “I wanted to take his mind off being here,” Luna adds, pulling a small mirror from her purse and fixing her face.

  “Mission accomplished,” Ian says, winking at her. “Memories have been changed.”

  “You two a couple now?” I ask.

  They both shake their heads.

  “Just fuck buddies?” Dylan asks.