Bottom Line: Callaghan Brothers, Book 8 (2 page)

It took a few moments for the clearly stunned valet to make up his mind (Aidan couldn’t help but wonder just what the kid was pondering), but then he grinned widely and reached into his pocket.  The keys he withdrew had a well-worn leather tag etched with a bizarre symbol that looked vaguely familiar.  Aidan recognized it as one Taryn Callaghan sported on a T-shirt occasionally. 

“You like
DarkWing
?”

Jared’s eyes grew to the size of saucers.  “Hell, yeah!  You know them?”

“Who doesn’t?” Aidan asked, though he would be hard-pressed to distinguish one of Taryn’s head-banging heavy metal bands from another.

“That is so
sick
,” Jared beamed.  Aidan realized he’d just achieved almost god-like status in the kid’s eyes.  “My car’s in the employee lot, towards the back.  Dark blue Accord.”

“Thanks,” Aidan said, already walking away with the keys in his hand.  “Enjoy the Benz.”

“Uh, sir?”

Aidan turned to look back at him and found the kid blushing six shades of red and looking nervous.  “Since I’m working tonight, I’m taking my girl out tomorrow to celebrate, and ...”

Aidan grinned, realizing the kid wanted to impress his girl by showing up in a hundred thousand dollar plus car.  “Keep it till Sunday, yeah?”

“Yes, sir!  Thanks!” the young man beamed.  “I’ll take good care of it!”

If only his own funk could be lifted so easily, Aidan chuckled as he walked away.

* * *

M
ary O’Rourke ordered her usual – a hot chocolate with Bailey’s and whipped cream – and sat back in the comfortable corner booth with her paperback.  It was nice of Tommy to let her come here and take up space on a Friday night – and New Year’s Eve, no less - knowing he could make more money if she didn’t.  The prime booth could easily seat four people who’d come out to drink and party and ring in the New Year, earning Tommy a bigger profit than Mary’s spiked hot chocolate and fried mozzarella sticks. 

She did this every year.  It was a tradition she’d continued even after her husband’s untimely death.  Cam had liked it here.  He used to bartend on the weekends, something he continued to do as long as he could even after he’d been diagnosed with an aggressive form of cancer only weeks after their wedding. 

Sitting here, amidst the warmth and revelry but staying removed from it, she could remember a time when life held the hint of hope; when the New Year promised new beginnings.  It seemed like so long ago.  If she stared at the bar and let her eyes relax long enough, she could almost see Cam’s grin as he joked with the regulars sitting there, guys he’d known his whole life.

But it was getting harder and harder to see him.  Harder to remember as the details faded away with the passage of time.  She wasn’t so young anymore – already past the thirty mark by more than a year, and it had been a long time since she’d felt even a hint of anticipation for what the New Year might bring. 

Tomorrow, sadly, was just another day.

It wasn’t that she had a bad life; she did quite well, actually.  She had her own business – a small flower shop in town that she loved.  A nice house, no mortgage, and a dependable car.  And an entire town of people who knew her, knew what she’d been through, and went out of their way to be nice to her.

Tommy was one of them.  He was kind to Mary even now, but she knew that when he looked at her it brought back some of the grief.  Cam had been his nephew, and Tommy, like so many others, had taken his illness and death hard.  That was one of the many reasons she preferred to stay out of the way, out of their direct line of sight, especially during what was supposed to be a time of celebration. 

Five years.  It had been five years ago to the day that Cam’s ravaged body had finally succumbed to the horrendous disease.  As sad as it had been, it had been a relief, too, for he had battled a long five years before that. 

They’d only had a few weeks to enjoy being newlyweds before the awful discovery was made, and even that time had been shadowed by the warning signs – Cam’s sudden and unpredictable weak spells and his constant fatigue.  Most of their honeymoon had been spent in the hotel (and not in the usual way) because Cam had thought he’d come down with some kind of flu.

She sighed, hating herself for the wave of resentment she invariably felt when she allowed herself to think upon it too much. 
Why?
was a question that had no answer, the same one millions of people looked heavenward and asked every day.

Not one to wallow, she only allowed herself to take a dip in the self-pity once a year on the anniversary of his death.  The feeling was accompanied by guilt, then immediately followed with shame.  It wasn’t as if Cam
wanted
to get sick.  He didn’t go out looking for cancer.  He did everything right – he ate reasonably well, took care of his body, led an active and healthy lifestyle.

It made no sense.  It was grossly unfair.  Nevertheless, it was.

And while everyone around her smiled and laughed and danced, Mary silently hoped they were savoring every moment.

“E
xcuse me.  May I join you?”  Mary looked up at the stranger and blinked.  He was on the tall side, a few inches over six feet, perhaps.  Lean and muscular.  Hair a perfect blend of gold and bronze, with golden brown eyes that looked almost as lost as she felt.

Before she could answer, Tommy appeared behind him.  “This table’s reserved.”

The man glanced almost lazily at Tommy, then back at Mary and shrugged.  He turned to go when Mary blurted out, “No, Tommy, it’s okay.”

“But Mary - ”

“It’s okay, Tommy.  Really.”  Tom looked like he wanted to argue, so she affectionately added, “Go on, then.  You’ve got a full bar tonight.” 

Reluctantly, Tommy turned and returned to his post behind the bar, but his frequent glances let her know that he’d be watching.  It was as comforting as it was smothering.  Most everyone in his tavern was a local, and they all knew to give Mary her space. 

She turned back to the handsome stranger with the hypnotizing eyes.  Definitely not a local.

“Please, sit.” 

He flashed her a grateful smile and slid into the booth across from her.  “Can I buy you another of whatever you’re having?”

“No, thanks.  One’s my limit.”

He frowned.  “Why?  It’s still New Year’s Eve, isn’t it?”

She gave him a patient smile.  “Yes, and one of my resolutions is to drive home without wrapping myself around a pole.”

“That’s a good one,” he said with a crooked grin.  “You know what mine is?”

Mary shook her head. 

He looked thoughtful for several moments before saying, “Me, neither.  Maybe you could help me come up with a few.”

Mary didn’t know what to say to that, so she said nothing. 

“I’m Aidan.  What’s your name?”

“Mary.”

“Mary.”  He said the name slowly, rolling it around on his tongue, as if he’d never heard it before.  As if it wasn’t the most common, vanilla name ever.  “Why are you sitting here alone on New Year’s Eve, Mary?”

“Why are you?” she countered, unwilling to reveal the sad truth to a stranger who was obviously here to have a good time.

“I’m not alone,” he said with another crooked grin.  “I’m with you.”

Despite herself, Mary smiled.  He really was a handsome man, and it had been so very long since anyone had openly flirted with her.  Everyone here knew her, remembered Cam.  As friendly as they were, though, they kept their distance, out of respect, or grief, or any other number of excuses.  She didn’t blame them.  She sometimes wished she could avoid herself, too.  But like her dad used to say,
Make sure you can live with yourself, Mare-bear, because everywhere you turn, there you are.

Mary was more than aware of the stares she was getting from the bar as everyone wondered who the stranger was and why he had zeroed in on her.  She was wondering the same thing.  Most men didn’t give her a second glance, and never one as good-looking as this. 

Her smile faded as she realized it probably wasn’t for any good reason.  The man had obviously been drinking, and logic suggested he had targeted her because any woman pathetic enough to be sitting alone with a book on New Year’s Eve would be easy pickings. 

She closed her book and slipped it into her purse, then drew out a couple of bills and placed them on the table.  Tommy routinely refused her money, telling her that it was no good in his place, but her conscience made her leave something anyway.

“Yes.”

Aidan squinted at the expensive-looking gold watch around his wrist as if he was having trouble focusing.  “It’s not even midnight yet.”

“I know.”

“Who will kiss you when the clock strikes twelve?”

Mary gaped at him.  Did this gorgeous stranger just say what she thought he did?  “I’m sorry,” she said, clearly flustered, and just a tiny bit thrilled.  “I have to go.  Happy New Year.”

Then she made a beeline for the exit.

* * *

A
idan watched the woman leave, stunned.  He’d never had a woman run away from him like that.  Even without his two-thousand dollar suit, he’d been turning them down as one after another sidled up to him and either offered to buy him a drink or asked him to buy one for them.  Sadly, none of them stirred his interest.  Then he’d spotted
her
, sitting in the corner all alone, a look of such longing on her face that he felt instantly drawn to her.

Under normal circumstances, he wouldn’t have given her a second glance.  There was absolutely nothing remarkable about her.  Of average height, average build, she had chestnut brown hair and warm brown eyes, lighter in the middle with darker rings on the outside.  Soft, feminine features, but nothing striking.  Nothing like the high-maintenance types he was used to.  This woman had a softness about her, a gentleness one rarely found in women in a bar.  Instead of clearly defined lines of hair and makeup and clothing, it looked as if someone had used the tip of their finger to just smudge around the edges a little.

It had awakened something inside of him, something that had compelled him to join her.  For a brief moment or two, he thought he recognized a similar lost soul, but apparently, that had been the Scotch.

It was just as well.  She looked too soft for the kinds of games he liked to play, anyway.

He sat there for a few minutes more before finishing off his drink and deciding the evening had been a total bust.  Feeling oddly disappointed he wouldn’t be ringing in the New Year with the quiet brunette, he no longer had any desire to wait until midnight either.  He settled his tab and slipped out the back.

His leather jacket hung open as he walked toward the outer edge of the lot, the slow burn of alcohol rendering him impervious to the cold.  He stopped beside an old Honda that had definitely seen better days, and pulled a set of keys from his pocket.  He studied them carefully, dropping them once, then twice into the now snow-covered asphalt before he managed to get the door open.

“Hey,” a quiet female voice said.  “You okay?”

He turned around to find the brunette from the bar peering up at him with big brown eyes, concern etched in her delicate features.  He managed what he hoped was a reassuring smile.  “Peachy.”

“How much did you have to drink tonight?”

He shrugged.  He’d stopped counting much earlier.

“I don’t think you should be driving.  Is there anyone you can call?”

He considered her, bemused by her concern when she had been in such a hurry to part company.  There were any number of people who would come, but then he’d be ruining their night, too.  It would also be a red flag for those who did care (namely Lexi and Rebecca) that something was wrong in Aidan’s perfect world and they would worry and try to help.  That was the last thing he wanted. 

“No,” he answered.

The woman – Mary – stuffed her hands into the pockets of her fluffy coat and shifted from one foot to the other.  Aidan looked down into her face, rosy from the frigid air, with tiny snowflakes sticking to her long, dark lashes.  “You’re cold.”

“It’s snowing,” she said reasonably. 

Aidan forced his golden eyes away from her and looked up.  “So it is.”

She worried her lower lip with her teeth, drawing his eyes to it.  It was slightly fuller than the top, a lovely shade of dark pink. 
Kissable
, he thought for no logical reason, once again feeling a pang of regret that he would not get the chance to find out.

“Aidan, would you let me give you a ride home?” she asked unexpectedly.

“No,” he said, shaking his head after briefly considering her kind offer.  “It’s too far.”  Even as drunk as he was, he wouldn’t allow her to do that.  Travelling over the mountain that separated Birch Falls from Pine Ridge could be treacherous with the un-forecasted precipitation, at least until the road crews had a chance to get out there to salt and cinder.

Mary bit her lip again.  Her brows furrowed.  She looked down and toed the accumulating snow.  Though each action was, like her, unremarkable, he couldn’t look away.  What was she struggling with, he wondered?  Did she, too, have secrets that weighed heavily upon her feminine shoulders?

They stood that way for several minutes.  The lot was quiet, with the muffled bass thumps of the band playing inside barely audible.  Aidan discreetly leaned against the car when it felt as though the asphalt shifted beneath him.  With nothing to go home to, he was in no particular hurry to leave.  Maybe he would just sit in the car for a while, close his eyes and wait for things to stop spinning.

“How about coming home with me, then?” she finally asked.

Aidan’s eyes widened for a moment in surprise, then he grinned.  “Are you propositioning me, Mary?  Did you change your mind about that kiss?”

She flushed a darker shade of rose, but her eyes glittered.  Or maybe that was just the prismatic effect of the flakes in the glow of the lamps lighting the far end of the lot.  It didn’t matter; it was very pretty.

“No.  I’m offering you a safe ride and a warm place to stay until you sober up enough to go on your merry way.”