The Problem with Paddy (Shrew & Company) (12 page)

As if the first boy’s suffering had triggered something in the second, now he started to scream and writhe as well.

The were-bear clapped and laughed at the display.

No time to make a plan. Dana turned to the cats and whispered. “If you’re going to get in, don’t let them see you. Let me and Sarah take the brunt of this.”

Patrick shook his head.

“This is my job. I’ve had enough people fucking doubting me. Are you doubting me, too?”

What could he say? He abased himself.

“Stealth, Sarah,” Dana said.

“Mm-hmm.” She was already screwing on her silencer.

Yeah, she’s so getting a raise.

Billy leaned against the doorway of the cabin and watched as Dana and Sarah packed up their gear. Patrick was in the shower.

“Sorry about knocking you over, Miss,” Billy said for the fourth time to Sarah.

She rubbed her sore shoulder and rolled her eyes, mumbling to herself about how a perfectly smooth operation had gone pear-shaped because of an overzealous furball.

“Y’all coming back next month? Startin’ to warm up. We might get a pig and roast it.”

Water stopped pounding against the tub floor.

“I think I’m turned off the idea of roasted meat for a while, Billy, but thanks,” Dana said.

Sarah slipped around the naked old man with her duffel and portfolio and mumbled some more as she passed. “I’ll see you back in Durham,” she called out when she was safely down the stairs.

“Yeah.”

Patrick came out a moment later, his hair dark hair slicked back, and body’s bottom half wrapped in a white towel.

“I just stuck around long enough to get Sarah packed up. I’m out,” Dana said, her hand already on her bag. “It’s been a long couple of days.”

Patrick opened his mouth to say something, but instead of speaking, turned his head toward Billy.

Billy put up his hands, turned, and bounded down the stairs.

Patrick went to the door and closed it. “What’s the hurry?”

She gave him a long blink. “Are you kidding me? You were there. We just had a fire fight with a were-bear with a Napoleon complex, two expert knife-throwers, apparently—welcome to the goddamned mountains—and a bunch of flunkies and lackies that came out of nowhere, and you’re asking me what the hurry is? Paddy, Paddy,
Paddy
. Those motherfuckers saw me. They saw Sarah. They saw both of us put bullet holes in a few of them. Now, they may have run away, but I get the feeling they’ll fight another day and
soon.
Just give them some time to get patched up. If I see those two cats of yours—”

Patrick put up his hands. “No, no. Not mine, remember? Those are the same idiot kids that turned me? Thought they’d rob me and leave me in tatters?”

“So, what are you going to do? Turn them over your knees and spank them?”

He blew out a breath and ground his palms against tired eyes. “I dunno. Honestly, the only reason I went out there to fetch the idiots is because I didn’t want you getting hurt. It wasn’t your fight. No matter. I’m going back to Durham to see what’s left of my pub. See what kind of mess it’s in on my namesake holiday.”

“And then next month, what?”

“I guess I’ll be back here.”

“Now that you have a target on your ass from the bears, right? I thought you said your sense of self-preservation was higher than that.”

He pushed away from the door and grabbed the front of her waistband in a flash, drawing her close so her chest ground against his. “Look, I helped escalate the mess, so I can’t leave these people on the lurch. Someone has to clean it up.” He stroked her chin with the back of his hand and she wondered how
dare he be so charming, so
beautiful
when she was so pissed.

“Why does it have to be you? Why can’t you leave them to take care of their own shit? You can lock down next month. Go somewhere safe near home if you’re worried you’ll get out and hurt someone.”

He shook his head and looked at her tenderly before grazing his soft lips across her forehead. “I’m not the kind of man who takes the easy way out.”

He felt so good, and smelled so nice and she wanted nothing more than to be wrapped in his arms and smothered in his hot kisses for the day…but that would give her hope for something that wasn’t possible. He obviously had a death wish, and she’d figured out she kind of
liked
life.

She pressed her palms against his naked chest and gave him a small push.

He eyed her curiously, but took a step back, respecting her space.

She walked to the door, heaving her bags up to her shoulders, and gave him one last look over her shoulder. “See ya, dirty cat.”

He cringed. “Bye, shrew.”

Patrick had expected his pub to be a mess upon his return, but it was surprisingly tidy. He wondered what had gotten into his staff as he made his way through the dense crowd, some still dressed in their excessively festive Saint Patrick’s Day 5K get-ups and running shoes as they laughed, and draped over the bar with their green drinks.

He understood why the place was so organized when his gaze landed on the busty blonde stranger behind the bar, barking orders in an accent he couldn’t quite decipher.

His cook was in the kitchen patting hamburgers into shape. He dropped the ground beef and made a beeline for Patrick.

“Where were ya? I was worried sick. Your dad always handled the business stuff at the old place. I didn’t know what to do. I even hired a woman to—”

Patrick put up his hands. “It’s all right. I had some personal stuff to take care of. I’ll be gone again next month and the month after. Ongoing. We’ll have to put some sort of system in place for my absences. Who’s the woman behind the bar?”

“She works for Miss Slade. She must have thought we’d need the help today.”

Knowing Dana, she probably thought he’d be over his head. Smart lady.

“She’s handy. Strong, too. Already thrown one guy out on his arse.”

Patrick offered his uncle a slap on the back and continued to his office. “I’ll be out in an hour. Need to catch up.”

“Right-o.”

He grabbed a beer from the kitchen fridge before proceeding down the hall. He paused with his hand on the knob. There was breathing inside. No…breathing in
chorus
. More than one person. Who the hell was in his office?

Quietly, he turned the knob and pushed the door in, hoping to take whomever it was inside off-guard, but they hardly jumped.

There were four women inside. Two he recognized. The other two were unfamiliar. He approached the one leaning onto the edge of his desk holding a glass of green wine. Before greeting her, however, he nodded at the woman perched on his credenza.

“Hello, Sarah.”

She nodded back. “Mr. O’Dwyer.”

He shoved his hands into pockets and shifted his gaze to the woman on his desk. “Hello, shrew.”

Dana let a little smirk quirk her lips up. “Hey, dirty cat.”

“Let’s keep that on the down-low, shall we?” He winked. “Lovely to see you. What’s with the audience?”

“Oh, I thought we’d take you up on your offer for drinks.”

He raised a brow and hoped it conveyed the degree of suspicion he was feeling. “
Today
? On the busiest day of the year? I thought you wanted privacy.”

“Mm-hmm. Don’t worry, though. Mr. Drake has got us all set.” She pointed to the six bottles of green wine uncorked on his desk and the six-pack of stout Sarah was indulging in.

“Wouldn’t you like to have a bit more space? I can open the private dining room.”

She shrugged. “Good to know you have one, but booze isn’t the only reason we’re here.”

“No?” He wanted to wrap his arms around her, kiss her thoroughly, and drape her over his desk, but he could do none of those things with the six extra eyes on him, watching his every move. Here they were, having a conversation as if they hadn’t been intimate two days ago—as if she hadn’t seen him at his absolute worst. As if his cat form hadn’t taken a knife in the leg for her.

His thigh tingled where the silver blade had grazed even thinking about it.

“No. Sorry, we’re going to have to pull Tamara off the bar. We need to be in D.C. tonight.”

“D.C.?”

She nodded. “Got referred for a government contract. We’re having to shut down the agency for a few days.”

“Oh.”

She stared down at her hands and he knew, even without catching her scent or feeling the beat of her heart, that she was nervous. The little hellcat,
nervous.

Shit.

He reached across the desktop and picked up his phone. He stabbed an internal extension. “It’s Pat. Can you pack the ladies some dinners to go? Something that won’t sweat in Styrofoam. Thanks.” He hung up and looked at Dana. “Give him ten minutes.”

She nodded.

“Hey…why don’t we go keep Mr. Drake company in the kitchen?” Sarah suggested. I think Dana needs to settle the bill.”

She scooped up the bottles and winked at him as she backed out. The other two ladies followed her, eyeing him warily and wearing scowls on their lovely faces.

“They’ll kill me if I hurt you, won’t they?”

“In your sleep, probably. Cleaner that way.” Her voice was flat, serious, but she managed a grin, and that made him laugh.

He placed a hand at either side of her thighs and leaned in close so their noses touched.

She closed her eyes and dragged her lips across his, gently, feeling him more than kissing him.

“You scare me, Patrick. I guess I should have expected that. You were in trouble the day I met you, and you still are. I can’t keep you safe.”

Now he did wrap his arms around her, and rested his chin atop her hair, nuzzling it.

She pressed her cheek against his chest and sighed.

“That’s not your job, sweetheart. I don’t have plans to do anything stupid. I’ve got a good head on my shoulders. I hate politics, but if there’s a way I can smooth some things out for those weres…”

“I understand.”

“And here you are, driving to D.C. to probably do something really feckin’ dangerous, huh?”

“That’s part of my job.”

“Look at you. This little thing with only a gun and an attitude, and you’re worried about
me
.”

She laughed against his chest, and when she stopped, they held onto that embrace for a moment, saying nothing.

Finally, she peeled back a bit, and looked up to say, “I don’t want to get hurt, Patrick. Not again. It’s too hard to put those walls back up once they crumble down.”

Somehow, he knew she wasn’t talking about the kind of hurt that came from bullet holes and knife pricks. “And are they down? Those walls?”

“There’s a crack in the foundation and it’s spreading rapidly. The building will likely be condemned soon.”

“Nice metaphor. I can’t promise I’ll never hurt you, sweetheart. I know you’ve been through some shit. All I can tell you is I’ll always show you your worth—the way you are, and not the way other people think you should be.”

“I think you’re a little bit nuts, Patrick.”

He grinned. “No, I’m not nuts. It’s like I said this morning. I’m not the kind of man who takes the easy way out. I’m going to work for this, because you’re worth it. That’s my promise.”

She smiled, too. “I’m worth it, huh?”

“You’re like a goddamned phoenix, woman. You walked through fire, and probably died a bit inside, but here you are. Better and badder, right?”

She rolled her eyes. “Arguable.”

“Do you like me, shrew?”

She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and worried at it while her eyes smiled. She shrugged. “Maybe.”

“Maybe! What do I have to do to get a
yes
?”

“Don’t know. Maybe letting me and the girls tag along with you to your little full moon hootenanny next month will sway me in that direction.”

“You want me to wait a whole month for a date?”