I made a U-turn and walked toward him. We met inside his office. He closed the door (the new one, which didn’t take a fucking century to close), because now, we met all the time to talk about everything, without Cillian as a buffer.

“What’s up?” I leaned my shoulder against a glass wall, tucking my hands into my suit pockets. He rounded his desk and sat behind it, smoothing his tie.

“What did she say?” He scrunched his eyebrows.

His firstborn was as far from marriage as The Joker was from sanity, and Aisling was still young. I was his best bet for grandchildren.

“Who?” I feigned confusion.

“I’m too old for these charades. What did Sailor say?” His eyes narrowed.

“She needs more time.”

I scanned him coolly for his reaction. His face fell before he schooled it, offering me a what-can-you-do huff. He tried so hard to keep a poker face, but the fact he reached for his handkerchief and dabbed his forehead gave away his despair.

“Buy her a bigger ring. That’ll do the trick.”

“Not with Sailor.” I shook my head, still eyeing him.

He groaned, rubbing his temple. “Probably. She’s a toughie.”

“I’m tougher.” I grinned, pulling out my hand and showing him my ring finger. “I won’t keep you and Mom waiting for long. I want to put this shit on lock as fast as I can, before she realizes she can do much better.”

Da looked up from his seat, shaking his head, and whispered, “No, she can’t.”

I believed him—not that it was true about Sailor and me, but that he meant it.

“I love you, ceann beag. More than this kingdom.” Da smirked, slow and deliberate, trying not to burst with pride.

I grinned back, fingering the Dala horse on my neck. Sailor had given it back to me the day she’d moved back in. It was no longer colorless, though. She’d painted it orange—like her hair.

“I love you, old sport. More than pu—”

“No.”

“Puppies! Chill.”

I turned around and made my way to my office, laughing.

I totally meant pussy.

The End