Bottom Line: Callaghan Brothers, Book 8 (7 page)

“Always, love,” he winked. 

Mary beamed, and Aidan couldn’t look away.  She was even prettier than he remembered.  Bundled up in a white winter coat edged with faux fur, her nose and cheeks were pink with cold.

“Hi Mary,” he said, offering her a tentative smile.

“Hi Aidan.”  She was clearly surprised to see him, her brown eyes opening wide.  “You two know each other?”

“Aye, that we do,” Conlan answered.  “Aidan here is - ”

“ – a friend of the family,” Aidan interrupted, easing smoothly out of the booth and standing up before Conlan could finish.  Aidan didn’t want Mary to know that he owned the Goddess.  He liked the idea that she didn’t know, and still treated him like he was worth something.  As long as she remained oblivious to his wealth and status, then he didn’t have to worry about her liking him for the wrong reasons.  He didn’t think Mary was the gold-digging type, but he’d been disappointed enough times to be overly cautious.

Conlan narrowed his eyes slightly, but said nothing else.  There was a moment or two of awkward silence, then the waitress came out with a large Styrofoam container.  “Here you go, Mary.”

“Thanks, Amy.”  Mary accepted the soup.  “Well,” she said, turning to Aidan almost shyly, “it was nice to see you again, Aidan.  Bye, Mr. O’Leary.”

Mary was at the cash register when Conlan turned to Aidan.  “She doesn’t know who ye are?”

Aidan shook his head, though he was still watching Mary.  “And I’d like to keep it that way for a while,
Daideo
.”

Conlan thought about it for a moment, then nodded.  “Alright then, lad.  I suppose ye have yer reasons.  I’ll leave it to ye.  But I will no’ see the lass hurt, ye understand?”

“Yeah.  Thanks,
Daideo
.”

“Hey, Mary, wait up.”  Aidan jogged out of the diner to catch up.  He noticed she was walking away from the parking lot, not toward it.  She stopped and turned around.  “Can I give you a ride?”

“Thanks, but I don’t live very far from here.”

“Oh.”  He shoved his hands deep into his pockets, disappointed.  He had hoped she would have forgiven him by now, or would at least be willing to give him a second chance, but it appeared not.

“But you could walk me home, if you’d like,” she said, surprising him.

His mood brightened considerably.  “I’d like that.”

They walked side by side, away from the diner.  The sidewalk was clear for the most part, but there were enough icy patches to warrant caution.  Aidan kept his hands at the ready.  If she slipped, he would catch her.  Unfortunately, Mary was annoyingly sure-footed.

“So.  What brings you back to Birch Falls?”  she asked.

Aidan had thought up a dozen different answers to that question during his seek-and-search, but opted for honesty.  “You, actually.”

Mary paused mid-step and turned those big brown eyes on him.  “Me?”  

“Yeah.  I’ve been thinking about everything you did, and what a jerk I was.  I wanted to apologize, and maybe make it up to you.”

She started walking again.  “You weren’t a jerk, Aidan.  You made a mistake, that’s all.  And there’s nothing to make up.”

“We’ll have to agree to disagree on that,” he said.  Sensing that continuing on this line might put a premature end to their time together, Aidan changed topics. 

“You’re a regular at O’Leary’s, huh?”

“Yeah,” she smiled.  “Every Monday, at least.  The soup du jour is potato, and it’s awesome.  I stop on my way home from work.”

“Where do you work?”

“The flower shop up the street.”

Aidan remembered driving by that place.  He’d thought more than once about ordering flowers for Mary in there.  Now he realized if he’d just followed his initial instincts to do so he might have saved himself a lot of time and aggravation.  Of course, his logical side argued, ordering flowers for someone was pointless when he had no idea where to send them.

“You sell flowers?”

“Yeah,” she admitted.  “Sell them, arrange them, grow them.  I have a green thumb, I guess.”

Recalling the multitude of plants she had in her kitchen, he had no trouble believing that.  An idea suddenly occurred to him – he could ask Mary to help him pick out some plants for his office and condo.  It would give him an excuse to see her again.

“That is definitely a skill I’m lacking,” he told her.  “My place could use something to brighten it up.  Maybe you could offer a few suggestions?”

“I’d be happy to,” she said, sounding like she meant it.  “If you tell me a little bit about your space, we can find something you’re comfortable with.” 

Alarm bells sounded in the back of Aidan’s mind, warning him that he would have to choose his words carefully unless he wanted to explain why he had the corner office on the top floor of the Celtic Goddess and a high-end condo in a gated community.  He shrugged, offering her a boyish smile.  “Hey, I’m a guy.  Green and hard to kill works for me.”

She laughed, thank goodness, and Aidan felt lighter inside.  “Green and easy.  I think I can handle that.”

All too soon their walk came to an end.  “Well, this is me,” she said, stopping in front of a pretty Cape Cod.  Aidan was sure he’d driven along this street – it was too close to O’Leary’s not to – but he never would have recognized it as Mary’s house. 

It looked like something out of a Thomas Kinkade painting.  A white house with decorative trim and dark green shutters.  On the left, a big bay window jutted out, showcasing a Christmas tree saturated with lights.  At the base, a miniature village consisting of lighted Dickens houses glowed softly atop puffs of snowy white down, creating an idyllic winter wonderland scene.  In every other window, single electric candles burned in quiet welcome beneath softly ruffled white curtains.

The front lawn was small but well-landscaped and neat.  Everything was frosted in the latest several inches of heavy, wet snow, making Aidan think of a gingerbread house.  Old-fashioned carriage style lamps lined the curved stone walkway and hung beside the door.

Aidan could definitely see Mary living here.  Like her, it was very understated, but warm and welcoming.

“I know I should take the decorations down,” she said apologetically.  “Everyone else does right after New Year’s, but I put if off every year.  Putting them up is fun, but taking them down is just kind of depressing, you know?”  She blew out a breath.  “But I promised myself I’d bite the bullet and do it this weekend.”

Standing there, outside looking in, the silvery gray wisps of clouds amongst an otherwise clear winter night, Aidan felt... something.  Mary’s eyes twinkled with the reflection of the lights, her breath creating steamy little puffs of air.  And he realized, that in that moment, he’d never wanted to kiss a woman quite so fiercely.

“It’s beautiful,” he murmured quietly, forcing his eyes back to the house.  “I can understand why you want to keep them up as long as you can.”

It was nice, standing there beside her, looking at the lights.  He didn’t feel the cold, and even more importantly, he didn’t feel that nagging ache that had been growing steadily over the past few years.  He was more than aware, however, of the woman herself. 

She did things to him, things that he didn’t quite understand.  Yes, he was physically attracted to her.  Despite the fact that she wasn’t striking enough upon first glance to do a double take, she was very beautiful, he realized. 

Soft and curvy, feminine in a very natural, basic way, without all of the add-ons.  She wore little to no makeup, her hair looked healthy and natural, and her clothes were simple but functional.  If it had been anyone else, Aidan was quite sure they’d already be inside, hot and sweaty and naked by now. 

But Mary was different.  She stoked something more than his desire.  He’d been unable to stop thinking about her for an entire week, and that intrigued him more than anything else.  He didn’t want to screw it up by overstaying his welcome or pushing too hard.  Mary was not one of the sycophants who would let him get away with crap because of his money or power.  As far as she knew, he was just a regular guy.  He wanted to keep it that way for a little longer.

“Well, I guess I should be going,” he said, though it was the very last thing he wanted to do.  He had accomplished what he’d set out to – he had found Mary, even knew where she worked now, which was definitely a bonus.  He would be able to recognize her house again, but to be sure, he made a point of glancing at the mailbox and committing the silvery numbers – 227 – to memory. 

“Would... would you like to come in for a bit?” she asked hesitantly. 

Aidan’s entire train of thought came to a sudden and grinding halt.  The smile he gave her was genuine.  “I would like that very much, as long as I’m not keeping you from anything.”

“No,” she said with a smile, reaching into her pocket for her keys.  “Max and I have a clear schedule tonight.”

He stepped up behind her, not enough to crowd but close enough to block the gusts of wind while she opened the door.  Her delicate scent was like ambrosia mixed with the crisp winter air.

Her fingers trembled as she attempted to fit the key into the lock.  Was it from the cold, he wondered, or might he hope that she, too, was experiencing the same tingling rush of anticipation as he was?

“Here, let me,” he said smoothly, taking the key from her hand. 

She didn’t step back though, which meant Aidan had to lean very closely in front of her to reach the lock.  He heard her slight intake of breath when his shoulders brushed against her, felt the tiniest puff of breath against his neck.

When she made no move to enter, he turned to find her eyes closed, the hint of a smile about those pretty pink lips.  If he didn’t know better, he would swear she had leaned closer to smell him. 

“Thanks,” she murmured, opening her eyes.  Color rushed to her cheeks.

“My pleasure.” 

A familiar yellow beast rushed into the foyer to greet them, butt wiggling and tail wagging with barely contained delight.  Mary put her soup and bag down on the small table just inside the door, then crouched down to give Max a hug and a good scratch behind the ears.  Aidan had the sudden image of Mary wrapping her arms around
him
at the end of a hard day, then wondered where the hell that had come from.

Satisfied with Mary’s attention, Max turned to Aidan, sniffing cautiously at his coat.  Apparently Max liked the way he smelled, too. 

“Remember Aidan, Max?” Mary asked.  As if he understood, Max sat on his haunches and offered Aidan a paw.

Brows raised in surprise, Aidan leaned over and shook Max’s paw.  “Well, aren’t you polite?”  Max gave him a great big doggie grin.  Mary laughed.  “Yeah, he really must like you.  Normally when someone comes by he barks like crazy and hides behind me.  Just the men, though.  He’s different with women.”

“Get a lot of male visitors, do you?” he asked before he could stop himself.

“No,” she said, her smile fading a little.  “Just the occasional home repairman.”

Goddammit!
  He was such a fucking idiot!  Why did he keep saying stupid shit like that to her?  The moment he thought of some other man coming into her house, paying attention to her, something short-wired in his brain.

“Aidan,” she said, her voice suddenly very serious and quiet.  “I realize what you must think of me.  But you’re wrong.  I don’t make a habit of bringing drunk guys back to my house, or allowing them to walk me home and then invite them in.”  She paused and bit her lip, as if deciding whether or not to say any more.  “You are the only man to cross my threshold in a non-professional capacity for a very long time.”

Bemusement warred with self-loathing.  Bemusement edged ahead.  “Why?” he blurted out.

She shook her head, her expression thoughtful, as if she had been asking herself the same question.  “I don’t know.  I can’t explain it.  You’re just... different.”

“Different how?” he pressed.  He couldn’t say why, but the answer was important.

She shrugged, taking his coat and hanging it up along with hers on the old-fashioned coat rack just inside.  That was a positive sign; it would be perfectly in her rights to ask him to leave and not darken her doorstep again. 

“I think it’s the way you look at me.  Like you actually see me.  Like I’m a normal woman.” 

“You mean you’re not?” he asked with amusement as he let his eyes take her in from head to toe and back up again.  “Because I have to tell you, if not, that’s one hell of a disguise you’ve got going on there.”

She laughed softly; it was like music to his soul.  And just that quickly, the tension was gone from around her eyes.  Unfortunately, she didn’t offer further insight into her puzzling statement.

“Come on, Max.  Let’s get you outside and then have some dinner.”

Aidan followed behind Mary, his eyes travelling between the shimmering strands of her shiny chestnut hair and the sweet sway of her behind.  They passed through the living area he’d seen briefly before, but now he took the opportunity to look around.

A small fireplace took up a fair portion of the outside wall to the left of the big bay window.  On the mantle, a goofy looking reindeer with a Santa hat poised around its ridiculous antlers, a matching scarf around its neck, eyes bulging comically as it gripped a gold saxophone.  Unable to help himself, Aidan pushed the small red velvet oval on the creature’s foot and a familiar melody began to play. 

“Benny Hill!” he exclaimed as he recognized the jazzy, upbeat tune he remembered from his youth, when he used to stay up late to watch reruns of the comic on cable. 

“Yeah!  You know Benny Hill? 

“One of my favorites,” Aidan confessed.  On a sudden whim, Aidan said, “And now for something...”

“...completely different,” Mary finished without hesitation.  Then they both laughed. 

“Don’t tell me you like Monty Python, too?”

“Love them.  I have all their movies on DVD.”

With much of the awkwardness now gone, Aidan followed Mary into the kitchen.  She flipped a switch, flooding the back yard in light, and opened the door for Max.  The dog hesitated, looking from Mary to Aidan and back again.