CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

By the end of the second day of O’Shea’s hospital stay, she’d become extremely antsy. Billboard was under no illusions about that. He’d known it would only be a matter of time before she began champing at the bit to be released, but with her ankle casted, her newly broken ribs, and her concussion making her sleep a lot, she was still being assessed. Billboard hoped that she could put up with her incarceration just a little longer.

He'd also been biding his time, wanting O’Shea to feel more like herself before he declared his love. Billboard wasn’t at all hesitant about the fact anymore. He knew his mind. He was one hundred percent in love with O’Shea, and now that all the visitors for the day had finally departed, it was the right moment to tell her.

“O’Shea, I—"

“This sucks, Billboard,” O’Shea huffed for probably the twentieth time in an hour, derailing his declaration. “I have a life, you know. Friends. Cats ,” she informed him, as if he didn’t know.

For the twentieth time he was patient with her, putting his proclamation temporarily aside to calm her down. “Your life is just on hold, and everything is good. Mizzay has called your department back in Louisiana and explained everything. Your friends have visited so much over the past two days that the nurses are thinking of locking your door, and the cats…” He ran a hand back through his hair. “They seem to be pretty happy at Anna’s house, and Ethan is over the moon to have them there. So. Stop fretting.”

She gave him a reluctant nod, accompanied by a long, drawn-out sigh.

“Good,” Billboard acknowledged. “Now that we have that out of the way, I have something to—”

The door flew open, cutting him off.

Again .

Mizzay breezed in, looking excited, which wasn’t hard for the woman to do. She never did anything halfway. If she was angry, watch out. If she didn’t like you, duck. If things were going her way… Well, it looked like that was the case, now, so Billboard relaxed a little.

“How ah youze doin’?” she asked O’Shea, not hesitating in the entrance, but prancing over to O’Shea’s bed to give her good leg a soft pat. Mizzay had been noticeably absent during all the other friend-incursions earlier.

“Ready to get out of here,” O’Shea huffed. “I just don’t understand why—” She started to launch into another round of “why can’t I be released”, but Mizzay interrupted.

Billboard snorted to himself. At least he wasn’t the only one unable to get things out of his mouth.

“Well, I’ve got good news. Times two .” Mizzay looked smug, which was saying a lot for a woman who made the world dance to her tune; at least from what Billboard had seen.

“Well, don’t keep us in suspense,” O’Shea returned. “The most interesting thing that’s happened around here is me not having to use the freaking bedpan anymore.”

Oh, yeah. O’Shea had hated that.

“Well, I just got word from Agent Vessers.” Mizzay looked so pleased. “Thanks to Anna and those papers—as well as you, O’Shea—the FBI has rounded up all the other players in Jakes’ little world, and they’re singing their asses off, implicating each other left and right to save their own heinies.”

As always, when Mizzay got down to business, she lost her Bronx accent.

“Nobody’s going to bother Ms. Jakes or her boy anymore,” the sparky little woman continued. “As a matter of fact, there’s some long overdue restitution coming.” Her eyes actually twinkled. “Turns out Jakes paid Anna’s divorce lawyer off to cheat her out of what was legally hers in the settlement. So, she’ll recoup that, plus damages and such. Which means a tidy sum will be headed her way.” Mizzay smirked. “Let’s just say that she’ll still have to work her day job, but she won’t have to worry about money anymore.”

“That’s awesome.” O’Shea did a fist pump, and grinned lopsidedly.

“You want more good news?” Mizzay asked cheekily.

“There’s more?” O’Shea’s healing black-eyes went round.

“Sure is, doll,” Mizzay preened. “I might have been in touch with the powers that be at the Boston Police Commissioners office. It seems like your transfer of credentials from your old precinct was approved. Which means, pending your healing timeline, you’ll be going to work for the BPD.”

This time, O’Shea couldn’t be contained. She squealed, flipped back her covers and swung her legs out of bed. Landing on her good one, she hopped over to Mizzay, giving her a huge hug.

“Hey. Watch those ribs,” Mizzay scolded.

“Ribs? What ribs,” O’Shea answered, but Billboard saw her grimace.

He stepped forward. “Okay. We’ll celebrate, big time, later. After you get better,” he told his woman, letting her lean on him as he helped her back to bed.

“Yeah,” O’Shea huffed, settling under her blankets again. “As soon as they let me out of this place.”

Billboard had talked to her doctors, and they said that she might be cleared to go home the next day. Not that he’d say that and get her hopes up. And when Billboard thought “home”, he meant his place. There was no way he’d let her recuperate at Anna’s house. Despite the stellar care he knew she’d get there, he needed to have his eyes on her at all times. Del had already approved a couple weeks off for him so O’Shea wouldn’t be alone.

Billboard bit back a chuckle. He knew O’Shea would have something to say about that, but it was a done deal as far as he was concerned.

Mizzay stayed for another few minutes before seeing herself out.

After her visit, O’Shea was all smiles.

Great. Now was a perfect time.

“So,” Billboard pulled his chair close and took O’Shea’s hand. “Since it looks like you’re going to be sticking around in the Boston area, there’s something I’ve—”

The door swung inward again, and Billboard groaned.

“Peanut!” A tall, dark-haired man rushed across the room, went to the opposite side of the bed from Billboard, and grabbed O’Shea’s free hand before bending down to bury his face in the crown of her head.

Billboard barely managed to stifle a growl.

What the ever-loving fuck ? And… Peanut ?

O’Shea’s mouth was opening and closing like a beached fish, right before she burst into tears.

Enough was enough.

Whoever this guy was—

The man looked up at Billboard and smiled.

Billboard blinked.

Same straight dark hair. Familiar gray eyes. Identical crooked smile.

“Cedric?” Billboard asked, his voice squeaking a bit.

“That’s me,” the man grinned, not letting go of O’Shea’s hand.

O’Shea was snuffling, trying to stem the flow of tears, and eventually her sunshiny smile broke through the deluge. That’s when she began peppering her brother with questions.

“How did you get here? How did you know about me? Where’s Libby?” She shot upright. “Wait. The twins. Is everything okay? Why are you in Boston instead of home with your very pregnant wife?”

Cedric chuckled.

Billboard heard a lot of O’Shea in that laugh.

“Everything’s fine. Libby’s fine and the twins are good. Your man here… I assume you’re Billboard?” Cedric asked, holding his hand out for a shake.

“That’s me.” Billboard relieved, cheerfully took the clasp.

Cedric turned back to his sister. “Your man here,” he continued, “got my number somehow, and texted me about what happened.” He looked at Billboard again. “I know you didn’t expect me to show up, but how could I stay away when my Peanut was hurting? My visit has a quick turnaround, though,” he warned O’Shea. “I’ll be leaving on a red-eye in about,” he looked at his watch, “five hours. But listen up, Peanut. As soon as my twins are born, they’ll expect a nice long visit from their auntie.”

“I’d love that,” O’Shea sniffled joyously.

She turned to Billboard and beamed; a look that said he might just have set all the firmaments of the heavens into motion.

Billboard felt heat move up the back of his neck, and…

What the hell ? As far as he knew, he’d never blushed in his life. But making his woman this happy… He cleared his throat.

“I knew your brother would want to know,” Billboard told O’Shea before turning his regard back to Cedric. “And even though your trip up is a huge surprise, I’m glad you could make it.”

The siblings were staring at each other with such love, that Billboard knew his presence wasn’t needed. “I’ll just…” he backed slowly out of the room as the oblivious pair began to converse.

Billboard’s avowals of love could wait.

****

Three hours and at least five cups of coffee later, Cedric texted him.

I’m on my way if you want to get back to O’Shea. Thanks for this. It was great. I’m happy to have met you.

Billboard’s answer was sincere. I can tell how much your visit meant to her. Thank you for coming.

The reply was rapid.

I expect you to come visit, along with my sister, once my kids are born. I can see what you and O’Shea mean to each other.

If by that, you mean everything, his fingers flew, you’d be right. Safe flight. Billboard tucked his phone away and got to his feet.

He was overdue to take care of business, and this time he wouldn’t put up with any interruptions.

****

Billboard eased the door to O’Shea’s room open and peaked inside.

“Hey,” she called out alertly. “I wondered where you had gone.”

“I wanted to give you and your brother some alone time,” he answered, then turned. Seeing no actual lock on the door, he stalked over to one of the chairs in the room, brought it back, and jammed it under the doorknob.

“Wh…?” O’Shea snickered, looking partly confused, but also amused.

“I refuse to be disrupted one more time,” he stated, striding back to O’Shea’s bedside.

Her mouth quirked up.

“Oh?” she asked innocently. “Do you have something you want to say to me?”

Well crap. It was just like O’Shea to figure out what was on his tongue. Clearly, it was his three false starts that had given him away.

“Maybe,” he shrugged as he sat on the edge of her mattress, sending a hand out to stroke her cheek and staring deeply into her lovely eyes. But just to be cheeky, he wasn’t going to play by her rules. “The kitchen wants to know what you’d like for food in the morning. You didn’t return their menu.”

O’Shea slapped his arm, laughed, then winced. “Ouch! Don’t say funny things. Healing ribs, here,” she told him, but her smile remained as she answered his question. “How about…” She tapped her lip then regarded him sassily. “…scrambled eggs, with a side of the man I love.”

Billboard was thrown off his game for a moment. “You…love me?” he repeated.

“Of course I do, Billboard. And you were about to tell me the same thing. Right?”

His grin, when it came, felt as if it would split his face in two.

“Damn right I was,” he replied.

But his O’Shea wasn’t about to settle for that.

“Was what?” she asked cheekily.

Hell, yes. He’d do this right.

“Was going to tell you I love you more than anything in this world, O’Shea. I want to marry you, and spend the rest of my days loving you. I’ve never met a more wonderful, prickly woman in my life, and I can’t live without you.”

O’Shea flushed around all the bruising that was currently turning yellow and purple. She looked just like a rainbow. The prettiest rainbow he’d ever seen.

“Are you proposing, Billboard?” she asked softly.

“Not yet,” he said. “I’m just staking my claim; letting you know there’s not a woman for me, other than you. And when I propose,” he stated assuredly, “There’ll be no way you can mistake it.”

“I’ll wait, then,” she said, leaning forward and capturing his lips so gently with her damaged ones, he almost couldn’t feel it.

Billboard sighed, his eyes growing damp.

Another first; this feeling of complete peace.

“I’ll hold you to that,” he responded solemnly, all banter aside.

Because O’Shea was his everything.