Ryan's Place (7 page)

“Don’t mind Ryan,” Father Francis advised, appearing out of nowhere and sliding onto the stool next to her. “He’ll come around. After a childhood that was filled with the unexpected, he works hard to keep things steady and familiar, now that he’s grown. It takes him a while to warm up to new people and even longer to listen to new ideas.”

“And I’m pushing at the boundaries of his comfort zone,” Maggie assessed thoughtfully, considering his reaction from a fresh perspective. “Maybe I should back off.”

“Now, why would you be wanting to do such a thing?” Father Francis demanded. “Change is what keeps us all alive. Ryan does too little of it.”

“If you’re so fond of change, why don’t you invite her over to the church to meddle in your business?” Ryan inquired sourly as he plunked an Irish coffee down in front of the priest. “I imagine you have ancient systems there that could use an overhaul.”

“Perhaps I will,” Father Francis said readily. “In fact, I think I’ll see if we have the budget for it. Would you be interested, Maggie?”

Maggie was more interested in the fact that Ryan’s expression turned even darker at the priest’s acceptance of his challenge. Still, she turned to Father Francis. “I’d be happy to take a look and see if I have any suggestions,” she told him. “The consultation’s on the house. After that, we’ll see if there’s anything I can contribute, and discuss terms.”

“Well, isn’t that just perfect?” Ryan snapped, retreating to the opposite end of the bar, where he slammed a few mugs around so hard, it was amazing that they didn’t shatter.

Maggie sighed. “I’d better talk to him. I owe him an apology for pushing so hard.”

“No, child,” Father Francis said at once. “He’s the one who needs to apologize. Give him a minute. He’ll come around on his own. He knows when he’s being unreasonable, and he’s generally honest enough to admit it.”

Maggie sat back down, but the wait seemed interminable. Finally, though, Ryan approached the two of them with a look of remorse on his face. “Okay, I was out of line.” He frowned at the priest. “But you were deliberately pushing my buttons, and you know it.”

“Do I now?” Father Francis said, his expression innocent.

“Of course you do. You take great pleasure in it, which makes me wonder why I put up with you.” He turned to Maggie. “As for you, I truly am sorry. I know you were trying to be helpful. It’s just that I don’t need that kind of help. I’ve been running this place for a while now. I know how to do it. It might not be the most efficient operation, but it works for me.”

“And there couldn’t possibly be a better way?” she challenged.

He grinned. “There could be, but I’m satisfied with things as they are. When I’m not, I’ll let you know.”

Maggie knew a brick wall when she slammed into one. “I’ll be waiting to hear from you.”

“When it comes to this particular topic, you could be in for a long wait,” he warned.

“I have the time,” she told him.

“And why is that? Shouldn’t you be starting that search for a new job?”

“Not just yet. I’m taking the next few weeks to think things through and decide what I want to do. I have an MBA that’s going to waste.”

He frowned. “Just so you don’t get it into your head that this is the place to put it to use,” he said. “You’re overqualified.”

“Okay, okay, I get it. I’ll back off,” she said, then murmured under her breath, “for now.”

He scowled. “I heard that.”

Maggie beamed at him. “Just a fair warning,” she said cheerfully as she slid off her bar stool.

“You leaving?” he asked.

She grinned at the faint disappointment in his tone. “You
should be so lucky. Actually, I’m getting an apron. In case you haven’t noticed, the place is packed, and Maureen and Juan have their hands full again.”

Ryan shook his head. “A lot of people think a vacation is best spent on a beach in the Caribbean this time of year, not waiting tables in a pub.”

“I’m not one of them,” she said, grabbing an order pad and heading for a table of couples across the room.

“Bless you,” Maureen said as she passed Maggie. “I don’t know where everyone came from tonight, but they’re all tired and cranky and starving.”

“More holiday shopping,” Maggie suggested. “And it’s only going to get worse when desperation sets in.”

“Now there’s a cheerful prospect,” Maureen said, lifting her gaze heavenward. “Saints protect us from the truly desperate.”

Maggie took orders from the three couples, along with a request for the band that was just setting up. She left that and a tip with the lead guitarist, then took the dinner order in to Rory.

The cook beamed when he saw her. “You’re still in one piece, I see. Tell me, did you win Ryan over to your way of thinking?”

“Hardly. The man’s head is like a rock.”

“Aye, that it is. I’ve been wanting to experiment a bit with the menu, but all of my pleas have fallen on deaf ears,” he said, sounding resigned.

“Speaking of changes to the menu, where’s Rosita and her recipe for enchiladas?” Maggie asked.

“I sent her home,” Rory said.

Maggie regarded him indignantly. “Just like that? She needs the job.”

He frowned at her. “Did I say anything about firing her? Her ankles were swelling. And don’t you be telling Ryan, either. There’s no need for him to dock her pay. As you said yourself, she needs every bit of it to prepare for the baby.”

Relieved, Maggie grinned at him. “Why, Rory, I believe the reports of your temper have been greatly exaggerated. You’re a softie.”

“Only when it comes to mothers-to-be, so don’t be getting any ideas about testing my patience,” he said. “I expect the wait staff around here to deliver my meals to the tables while they’re still hot. Maureen’s order’s ready. You can take it.”

“Yes, sir,” she said, loading her tray with the steaming plates and heading for the door.

For the rest of the evening, there was little time for idle chitchat with anyone. As she rushed from table to table, Maggie felt Ryan’s steady gaze following her. Just before midnight he nabbed her arm and dragged her to a stool at the end of the bar.

“Sit. Maureen and Juan can handle things from here on out. Have you eaten a bite all evening?” he asked.

“No time,” she said, sighing as she kicked off her shoes.

He uttered a sound of disgust and headed for the kitchen. He came back with a plump ham and cheese sandwich and a bowl of Rory’s thick potato soup.

“I can’t eat at this hour,” she protested.

“You can and you will,” he said. “I will not be responsible for sending you home half-starved. I won’t risk Nell and Garrett’s wrath coming down on my head.”

Maggie grinned at him. “I’m a grown woman. I take responsibility for my own actions.”

“Do they know that? Aren’t these the very same parents
who worry frantically if you’re so much as a few minutes late? Didn’t you tell me that yourself on the first night you came through my doors?”

“At least there’s one thing I’ve said that you listened to,” Maggie retorted.

“I hear every word out of your mouth,” Ryan countered. “I just pick and choose what to ignore.” He gestured toward the untouched sandwich. “Now when you’ve eaten that, I’ll drive you home.”

“I have my car.”

“Then I’ll follow you home. It’s too late for you to be driving around the streets of Boston all alone. And yes, I know you’re a grown woman, but you’re not a foolish one. You’ll accept my offer and be gracious about it. Otherwise, I’ll be the one worrying through the night.”

She met his gaze. “Really? You would worry if I drove home alone?”

He sighed heavily. “Yes, really.”

Pleased, she relented. “Then you may follow me home, if you agree to come in for coffee when we get there. Deal?” She held out her hand.

Ryan regarded her steadily, reluctance written all over his face. Eventually, though, he clasped her hand in his. “Deal.”

It was such a silly, simple agreement, but Maggie felt as if they’d taken a giant leap forward. Now all that remained was to see how many steps backward would follow.

R
yan approached the O’Brien house filled with trepidation. He’d expected to find most of the lights off and the family in bed, but instead it looked as if there were a party going on. He said as much when he joined Maggie in the driveway.

“I probably shouldn’t intrude,” he told her. “It looks as if your parents are entertaining.”

“Nonsense,” she said, slipping her arm through his. “I imagine some of the family dropped by and they got to playing cards or something. You’ll be welcome. Besides, we had a deal. You can’t back out now.”

It had been a stupid deal. He’d known that when he made it. He should never have agreed to come inside this house where there was so much warmth. It made him yearn for things he’d never had.

He dreaded the prospect of going inside and getting caught up in the kind of teasing camaraderie he’d witnessed when the family had helped out at the homeless shelter. That kind of situation always made him uncomfortable. It caused him to feel more alone, more like an outsider than ever.

He sighed and looked down to find Maggie regarding him with sympathy.

“It will be okay,” she reassured him.

“I’ll stay long enough for a cup of coffee. That’s it,” he said.

“That was the deal.”

“That was the deal,” she agreed, leading the way to the kitchen door.

Inside—to his surprise, given the late hour—they found bedlam. Six people were sitting around the kitchen table, poker chips piled in front of them, making enough noise for twenty.

“You cheated,” Katie accused her father, barely sparing a glance for Maggie and Ryan as they walked in.

“He most certainly did,” one of Maggie’s brothers agreed.

Garrett O’Brien rose to his feet, practically quivering with indignation. “The day my own children accuse me of cheating is a sad day, indeed.”

“Oh, sit down,” Nell ordered. “You did cheat. I saw you myself.”

Garrett—most of the fight drained out of him—turned to Ryan for support. “Can you imagine a man’s own wife saying such a thing?”

Ryan grinned, his nervousness dissipating. He could imagine Nell O’Brien saying whatever she wanted to whomever she wanted and expecting to be taken seriously. “Well now, I
imagine she’s a woman who always speaks her mind,” he said cautiously, not sure exactly how welcome his opinion might be.

“And always truthfully,” Katie added. “Pull up a chair, Ryan. These guys are just about tapped out. We need deep pockets to join the game.”

Ryan felt Maggie’s gaze on him.

“Are you willing?” she asked. “Can you stay for a bit?”

Ryan weighed his reluctance against the prospect of a few good poker hands. “I can stay.”

“Bring the chairs from the dining room, then,” Garrett said. “We’ll push over to make room. Maggie, get the man a beer.”

“Coffee would be better,” Ryan said. “I have to drive back into Boston after this.”

“Nonsense,” Nell said. “Not when there’s a perfectly good guest room that’s unoccupied tonight.”

“We’ll debate that when the time comes,” Ryan said, refusing to commit to staying under this roof, especially with the tempting Maggie just down the hall.

Maggie set his coffee in front of him, then slipped onto her own chair right next to him and leaned closer to whisper, “That’s the last act of kindness you can expect from me. When it comes to poker, I play a take-no-prisoners game.”

“Listen to her,” her brother Matt said. “Our Maggie liked to stay up and play with Dad’s cronies as she was growing up. Dad allowed it because she split her winnings with him.”

Ryan laughed, regarding Maggie with new respect. “Well, we’ll just have to wait and see if you’ve lost your edge, now won’t we?”

“Trust me, there are some things a woman never forgets,” she retorted, dealing the cards with quick, professional efficiency.

Ryan drew a scowl from Maggie and hoots from her fam
ily when he won the first hand. When it was his turn to deal, he made an elaborate show of allowing her to cut the cards. “For luck,” he declared.

“Thank you,” she replied, though there was an edge to her polite tone.

“I believe you misunderstood,” he said as he dealt. “The lucky cut was for my benefit.”

“Oh, my, he’s a smug one,” Garrett remarked happily.

“With good cause, I’d say,” Katie said when she threw in her hand.

Nell, John and Matt followed suit, as did John’s wife. Garrett added his cards to the pile with a muffled curse.

Ryan leveled a look into Maggie’s eyes. “It looks as if it’s just you and me.”

Her gaze never wavered. “I’ll see your bet and raise you a dollar.”

“Uh-oh, our Maggie has that glint in her eyes,” Matt said. “Watch yourself, Ryan.”

Ryan was already all too aware of the dangers he faced anytime he was around Maggie. This card game was just the tip of the iceberg. “I’ll see your raise and call you,” he said, watching her expectantly.

“You’re absolutely sure you want to do that?” she asked. “There’s still time to take it back.”

He nodded. “My bet’s on the table.”

“Okay, then.” She fanned her cards out on the table. She had a full house, jacks high.

“Very nice,” Ryan complimented her.

She smiled and reached for the pot. “I thought so.”

He placed his hand on top of hers. “Just not nice enough.” His own full house had kings high.

Maggie frowned as he scooped up the money.

Ryan leaned in close and whispered in her ear, “Don’t pout. I told you luck was going to be with me.”

Matt winced. “Oh, brother. You’ve really done it now, Ryan. You’ve won and, worse, you’ve gloated about it. She’s going to be out for blood.”

Maggie gave them all a serene smile. “I am, indeed.”

Ryan thought they were joking, but to his amazement Maggie took the next four hands in a row. He regarded her with amusement. “Feeling better now?”

“Much,” she said, a satisfied gleam in her eyes.

“Why do I have the feeling this game has gotten personal?” Katie inquired. “I think I’ll just slip off to bed while I still have two cents to my name.”

“And I have to be getting home before my wife disowns me,” Matt chimed in.

John exchanged a look with his wife. “I guess we’re out of here, too.”

Within ten minutes, the entire room had been cleared. In the silence that followed, Ryan stared at Maggie.

“That was fun,” he said.

She seemed surprised. “Even though you lost?”

“Only because I lost to you. You take the game so seriously. Next time, though, I’ll know what to watch for. You won’t be so lucky.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means when you’re bluffing, you get this little nervous tic by the corner of your eye. Right about here,” he said, touching a finger lightly to her cheek. “And this corner of your mouth starts to tilt up into a smile, but you fight it.” He skimmed a caress along her bottom lip to emphasize the point.

Maggie swallowed hard. “Ryan, what are you doing?”

“Just explaining how you give yourself away. I’m surprised the others haven’t noticed. Then again, I doubt any of them are as fascinated with your face as I am.”

The pulse at the base of her neck jumped. “Ryan…” Her voice trailed off.

He leaned forward and covered her mouth with his. He’d been wanting to do that from the moment they’d started to play, had been so obsessed with the idea, in fact, that he’d lost his concentration in the third hand. That was why she’d won so many rounds. His mind hadn’t been on the cards at all.

“You taste so good,” he whispered against her lips. “And you smell like flowers.”

“Roses,” she said, sounding breathless. “My favorite perfume.”

Shaken by the emotions racing through him, he sat back, sucked in a ragged breath and raked his hand through his hair. “I need to get out of here.”

“Mom invited you to stay.”

“She wouldn’t have, if she’d known what was on my mind,” he said.

Maggie’s eyes sparkled with curiosity. “Exactly what
is
on your mind?”

“You,” he said, opting for total honesty. Maybe that would scare her into being wary around him. “Getting you out of those clothes so I can touch you. Making love to you for the rest of the night.”

“Oh, my,” she whispered.

He stood up. “Which is why I need to get out of here now.”

“No, don’t. Stay,” she pleaded.

“That’s a really bad idea,” he said, reaching for his coat.

He leaned down and kissed her one last time. “Good night, Maggie.”

“Good night,” she said with obvious reluctance. She stood up and walked with him to the door. “Will you call me when you get home?”

“And wake the household? I don’t think so.”

“I’ll worry if you don’t.”

He stopped and stared. She’d sounded totally sincere. “You can’t be serious,” he said, struggling with the unfamiliar sensation her words stirred in him.

“Well, of course I will. It’s late. Who knows what could happen on the road at this hour? I’ll keep the phone right beside me in the bed. I’ll pick up on the first ring. No one else will be disturbed.”

It was the first time in decades that anyone had expressed the slightest concern over his whereabouts or his safety. Ryan expected to rebel against it, but instead her plea made him feel warm deep inside. “Okay then, I’ll call,” he said eventually.

She reached up and touched his cheek. “You’re not used to anyone worrying about you, are you?”

“No.”

“Well, that’s about to change. I’m an O’Brien and we worry about everything,” she said lightly.

“Then it’s nothing personal?” he said, hiding his disappointment.

“Oh, in your case, it’s very personal. I just don’t want you freaking out about it.”

“I don’t freak out.”

“Of course you do,” she teased. “But that’s okay. I understand. You’ll get used to me and the others in time.”

In time?
Ryan wondered about that on the drive back into
Boston. Would he ever get used to having someone care what happened to him? Or had his past destroyed any chance of that?

“Who called in the wee hours of the night, or was it morning?” Katie inquired sleepily as the family sat around the breakfast table before church.

“My money’s on Ryan,” Nell said. Her gaze came to rest on Maggie. “Am I right?”

“I asked him to let me know he made it home safely,” she said.

“You couldn’t persuade him to stay here?” her mother asked.

“He didn’t think it was a good idea,” Maggie said.

“Probably afraid we’d catch him sneaking into Maggie’s room,” Katie said.

“Mary Kathryn O’Brien, watch your tongue,” their father scolded. “I don’t like to hear such talk from my very own daughter.”

Katie refused to be daunted. “Only because you’re terrified it could be true and it would ruin forever your image of us as your darling girls, rather than grown-up women.”

“That’s true enough,” he said easily. “And what is wrong with a man thinking his girls behave as angels, at least until the very day they say their wedding vows?”

“Nothing,” Nell soothed. “As long as he’s prepared to admit he’s been wrong. Now let’s drop this before we end up in an argument before mass. Maggie, are you coming with us this morning?”

“I was thinking of going to a mass at St. Mary’s,” she admitted.

“You think you’ll be bumping into Ryan there?” her mother asked.

“I can always hope,” Maggie admitted candidly.

“Well, if you do, bring him back with you for Sunday dinner.”

“It takes a brave man to face this crowd two days running. I doubt I’ll have much luck convincing him, but assuming I see him, I’ll try.”

Unfortunately, she didn’t get the chance. There was no sign of him at the church, but when she ran into Father Francis after mass, he was happy to tell her that Ryan could be found at the shelter. “He likes to spend some time with the children on Sunday morning. I imagine you’ll find him with Lamar Monroe this morning.”

“Lamar? He hasn’t mentioned that name,” Maggie said.

“He’s a lad Ryan’s taken an interest in. He’s having surgery later this week.”

“I see,” Maggie said, sensing there was far more to the story than Father Francis was sharing. Whatever it was, though, it was also clear she’d have to pry it out of Ryan himself.

She found him, as predicted, sitting on the edge of a cot with a young boy crowded next to him, the boy’s fascinated gaze locked on the book Ryan held. Maggie remained in the shadows watching the two of them as Ryan read the story in a voice filled with so much animation that he had the child laughing.

“He’s a wonder with my boy,” a woman said quietly as she joined Maggie. “I’m Letitia Monroe.”

“Maggie O’Brien.”

“You’re a friend of Ryan’s?”

Maggie wondered if she could legitimately make that claim. She asked herself if a few kisses added up to friend
ship, when it was evident that there was so much about Ryan Devaney that she didn’t know.

“I’m hoping to be,” she said finally.

Letitia Monroe grinned. “So, that’s the way of it, is it? The man is playing hard to get?”

“Try impossible,” Maggie said fervently.

“You know what they say about anything worth having,” Mrs. Monroe reminded her.

“That it’s worth waiting for.”

“That’s right.”

Watching as Ryan coaxed yet another chuckle from the obviously ill boy, Maggie realized with a sudden burst of insight that she would willingly wait for as long as it took.

He looked up then and spotted her. “Hey, Maggie,” he said, then turned and said something in an undertone to Lamar that had the boy grinning. Ryan patted a spot next to him. “Come join us. I have to finish reading this story. I can’t leave Lamar in suspense.”

“Maybe she should do the girl’s part,” Lamar said. “You sound kind of funny doing it.”

“Hey,” Ryan protested, “is that any way to treat a man who has humiliated himself to keep you entertained?”

Maggie sat down and reached for the book. “Allow me,” she said with a wink at Lamar. She finished reading the last few pages, then sighed as she read, “The end.”

“You were real good,” Lamar said, approval shining in his eyes.

“Better than me?” Ryan demanded.

Maggie rolled her eyes at the question, causing Lamar to giggle. “Tell him he was better or he’ll be grumbling all day,” Maggie advised him.