House Calls: Callaghan Brothers, Book 3

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House Calls: Callaghan Brothers, Book 3 Page 16

by Zanders, Abbie


  Michael looked pleadingly at Jake, who held up his hands. “I’m not taking her on,” he said. “Especially after what she almost did to that nurse who wanted to give you a sponge bath.”

  The tiniest hint of a smile curved Michael’s mouth. “Sponge bath?” he said, his gravelly voice sounding hopeful.

  Maggie bit her lip. “Uh-huh.”

  “I think I’m going to wait out in the hall,” Jake said wisely. “Yell if you need me.”

  Maggie lavished constant attention on Michael, refusing to accept the lodging the brothers offered her. She spent her nights at Michael’s side, her days bathing him, massaging him, reading to him. She made him special teas, spent hours stroking his hair and pampering him.

  More than once Ian suggested that Michael really wasn’t half as sick as he pretended to be, just so Maggie would fuss over him some more. In response, Michael generously offered to shoot him so that Lexi might give him the same treatment, but Maggie discouraged it, saying that Lexi had enough on her plate already.

  Between Maggie’s attentions and the medical care, Michael improved rapidly. Within a matter of days the doctor cleared him for transport back home, though he would have to take it easy for a while.

  * * *

  Seeing the lights of the Pine Ridge Valley as they topped the crest of the mountain and began their downward descent was the second most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. The first, he confessed, was waking up to Maggie’s face in the hospital.

  A low-key welcome home celebration was awaiting them. Maggie was awed by the love and support Michael’s family had for him. All families should be like this, she thought, and the world would be a much better place.

  There was a substantial amount of appreciation for Maggie, as well, though the attention made her very uncomfortable. Several times she tried to slip into the shadows, to let Michael receive the attention. He never let her stray far, his eyes ever watchful.

  No matter how many times they asked, she could not give them the answers they sought. She could not explain the dream she had any more than they could. Some things, she said quietly, should simply be accepted and not questioned.

  * * *

  “Have you told him yet?” Taryn asked during one of those such times.

  Maggie thought about pretending she didn’t know what Taryn was talking about, but decided against it. It seemed pointless. Taryn had already proven that she was light years ahead of Maggie on the understanding scale. “How did you know?”

  Taryn smiled. “Because I was in your place once. “ The smile faded. “I lost our first baby. Jake doesn’t think I know, but I do. Maybe if I had told him instead of running away, trying to pretend that I didn’t need him...”

  “I’m so sorry,” Maggie said sincerely.

  “Thanks,” Taryn said. “We have Riley now, and she’s wonderful, but I’ll always wonder, you know? What would her big brother have been like? Would he have had Jake’s eyes and the cockeyed Callaghan grin?”

  She paused as her voice broke slightly, taking a moment to regain control. “Anyway, I just wanted to say that if you’re waiting for the right time, or the right place, or for things to be perfect – don’t. Because like it or not, tomorrow is not guaranteed, not for any of us.”

  * * *

  Michael looked over at that moment, caught the seriousness of Maggie’s expression.

  “What was that all about?” he asked when they were on their way back to Maggie’s house where Michael would continue his recovery under Maggie’s watchful eye.

  “What?” Maggie asked, but given the way she avoided his eyes, she knew exactly what he was talking about.

  “The little chat you had with Taryn.”

  “Oh, that,” Maggie said, forcing a smile. “It was nothing.”

  “Usually when you say something is nothing, it turns out to be a very substantial something,” Michael said.

  “There’s a lot we need to talk about, Michael, but not tonight, okay?”

  “Not tonight,” he agreed. Tonight he needed to be with Maggie, to lose himself in her and forget everything else.

  Maggie’s house was dark, but as before, plenty of firewood was stacked neatly and a nice pile had been assembled in the fireplace, waiting only for a match to set it ablaze. The fridge was full, a bowl of fresh fruit was on the table, and the cupboards were packed with some of Michael’s favorite snacks.

  “I could really get used to your family,” she said approvingly. “They’re spoiling me rotten.”

  “Family takes care of family,” he said simply. It was how things were done. They didn’t question it, they just did it.

  “But I’m not family, Michael.”

  Michael pulled her into his arms. “Yes, Maggie, you are. You belong to me, as I belong to you. Surely you know that by now.”

  Michael lowered his head and kissed her, fully, passionately. There was no gentleness, no easing into it. It was total possession, and she gave herself up to it completely. Maggie took his hand and led him up to the bedroom.

  * * *

  “Maybe it’s too soon,” she said hesitantly after unbuttoning his shirt and seeing the bandages that still covered the wound.

  Michael’s eyes had become a deep sapphire blue. Maggie had been taking care of him, but had refused to let him do anything for her. Tonight that was going to change.

  Michael undid the clasp of his belt, letting the sides hang freely. “Come here.” His voice was low, husky, filled with hunger. It made Maggie’s insides tighten, and ignited the inner burn she always seemed to feel around him, stealing her breath away.

  Dutifully, Maggie placed her hands on his jeans and unsnapped the fastening, subconsciously licking her lips in anticipation as the tip of him strained over the top. Pleasuring Michael had become somewhat of an obsession for her; she loved the control, the power she had over him.

  Before she had a chance to lower his zipper, he grabbed the sides of her shirt and pulled, sending buttons flying as he exposed her. Before the startled cry left her lips, he was on his knees, suckling her through the satin and lace bra, his hands moving up and down her waist.

  “So pretty,” he murmured, torturing first one breast, then the other until her knees went weak. Her hands tangled in his hair, longer than it normally was, hanging on for dear life. She had forgotten how devastating Michael’s touch could be.

  “Do you know how I’ve dreamed of doing this?” he murmured against her. “How every night I woke up reaching for you, Maggie?”

  With a snap of his fingers the front clasp of her bra was undone and he was peeling it away, pushing it from her shoulders. The moist wet heat of his mouth against her bare skin made her whimper.

  While his mouth worked her breasts, her incredibly sensitive breasts, his hands went to work on her jeans, skillfully undoing them and coaxing them down to her ankles before she kicked them away.

  “I need to taste you, Maggie,” he said roughly, his words muffled against her skin. He cupped her behind and lifted her onto the bed. With dazed eyes, she grasped his shoulders and twisted, pushing him back to the bed.

  “Maggie...” He laid down, grasping her hips firmly, pulling her up until she straddled his face. Maggie couldn’t help the cry that ripped from her throat at the first feel of his mouth on her. His arms locked like iron bands around her hips, holding him to her.

  His mouth ravaged her, licking and biting; he groaned as she spilled over his tongue. “Michael,” she screamed, her hands clutching at the headboard. “Oh, Michael, don’t stop!”

  Her pleas seemed to inflame him; he attacked with renewed vigor, plunging his tongue deep and true. She tried to squirm against the onslaught of sensation, tried to ease some of the white-hot shooting bolts of pleasure he was sending through her with every touch, but he held her firm, would not let her rest. He was relentless, pushing her farther and farther. Each time she was on the verge of coming he would pull back, over and over again, until she swore she could not take one more second.
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br />   “Ride me, Maggie,” he said against her sex. He had to repeat the command three times, physically tug her hips downward, before her fevered mind was finally able to comprehend. He held himself ready as she positioned herself over him, crying out when she impaled herself, taking him all in one deep thrust.

  Maggie cried out at the sudden and violent penetration, needing the pain as much as the pleasure. She was beyond rational thought, but instinctively she knew she had to protect Michael, keep him from overtaxing himself. Mindful of his wounds, she leaned over, placing her hands on his biceps, letting her nails curl like claws into his skin, both a warning and a promise that she would be the aggressor. Michael groaned.

  “Ah, baby, it feels so good to be inside you. Heaven, Maggie. Ride me, baby.”

  It was all the encouragement she needed. She began to roll and lift her hips, taking him even deeper, mindful to keep weight off of his chest and abdomen. Her inner muscles clamped down around him, protesting every time she pulled away, rejoicing every time she took him again.

  After so much time without him, it took mere minutes for her to reach climax. Michael cursed as he felt her muscles tighten around him, pulling, milking, squeezing. He grabbed her hips and held her in place while he thrust upward. She screamed again, begging for mercy as he continued to pound up and into her, forcing her beyond anything she’d ever experienced, beyond pleasure, beyond pain. It was too much – too intense – she couldn’t imagine another second yet he continued until she exploded again, until her body and mind and spirit shattered into a thousand tiny pieces as she felt him bursting within her.

  Maggie collapsed. Her bones had become liquid, her capacity for rational thought evaporated. Michael caught her and held her close. “Sshhhh, baby,” he whispered as she sobbed uncontrollably into his shoulder. “I’ve got you.” One arm locked her to him, the other ran up and down her back.

  As much as she wanted to, she couldn’t stop. She cried harder as the reality of the last two weeks – the last two months – crashed around her. She’d come so close to losing him. She clutched at him, held on to him hard as if she would never let him go again.

  * * *

  Michael had been waiting for it. She’d been so strong, so capable, but he knew it was only a matter of time. He had had plenty of opportunities to get used to the idea of death. Had seen it many times. Knew that with each mission he and his brothers accepted there was a chance he would not return. But Maggie didn’t. She wasn’t prepared for this.

  He let her cry it out, doing the only thing he could – he held her until there was nothing left.

  Eventually the tears stopped. She clung to him a little less desperately, but she refused to let go. That was okay with him. He had no intention of letting her, ever again.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “Don’t let him overdo it,” Maggie instructed Kieran when he came to pick up Michael. Kieran managed a fitness and rehab center in town where Michael would be doing his rehab.

  “Relax, Maggie. We know the drill.” Kieran reassured her. “This isn’t the first time one of us has been shot.”

  It was the wrong thing to say. Immediately her face paled and her lip began to tremble. Michael shot Kieran a withering look.

  “It’s okay, Maggie,” he said, his voice softening. She nodded, but it wasn’t okay, not really. Now that Michael was home and recovering, she had to face the awful truth that if she stayed with him, this might happen again. And next time, he might not come home at all.

  “How do you do it?” Maggie asked quietly. After Michael left, she phoned Taryn. Taryn picked up Lexi and they were at Maggie’s within the hour.

  “It’s not easy, Maggie, but doing this is part of who they are.” Taryn sipped her coffee, her violet eyes naturally intense. “It’s one of the things that attracts us to them in the first place. We crave their intensity, their sense of honor. Regular men just won’t do it for women like us.”

  Maggie wasn’t sure she agreed with that. She fell in love with Michael when she thought he was just a doctor, and she relayed as much.

  “Maybe you didn’t know up here,” Taryn said, pointing to her head, “but you knew here.” She pointed to her heart. “You can’t tell me you didn’t sense it, Maggie. It reaches out to you, calls to you, and if you’re the one, you can’t help but respond to it.”

  Had she known? If she was honest with herself she had to admit that she had been instantly drawn to Michael, feeling a connection she’d never felt with anyone else, even when her brain tried to convince her that she was imagining it, that such things didn’t really happen. The power of her feelings for him defied all logic, all the rational expectations she’d ever had. And because of that, she was terrified.

  If anything happened to Michael, it would destroy her. The past few weeks had proven that beyond a shadow of a doubt. The pain of missing him – but knowing he was safe and well – was nothing compared to what she would face if... Her mind refused to complete the thought.

  “I just don’t think I can bear sitting around, waiting for that phone call or knock on the door,” she said without answering, wrapping her arms around herself.

  “You’d be surprised at what you can do for the love of a man like that,” Lexi said with quiet strength. “And you won’t be alone. You have us. We know what you’re going through, and we help each other through it.”

  “Besides,” Taryn pointed out. “Nothing in life is guaranteed, Maggie. How many people die every day? People who wake up one morning and never see it coming?”

  “True, but let’s face it, what they do is pushing the envelope a bit, don’t you think?”

  “We know what we face, as do they. They are good at what they do, Maggie. The very best. And they leave absolutely nothing to chance. ”

  “All the more so if they have a reason to come home.”

  The words were left unspoken, but Maggie sensed the implication easily enough. She’d heard enough of Jake and Ian’s quiet exchanges with the others to glean that Michael had taken chances he shouldn’t have. Was it because of her? Was it because he thought he had lost her forever? Because Jake and Ian had wives and babies waiting for them, and he didn’t?

  “Michael was shot,” Maggie said firmly, suddenly feeling restless again. She got up and absently started collecting together the ingredients for a coffee cake. Thinking better of it, she put everything away and pulled out items to make a sweet dough so she could knead some of her stress away. Every time the image of him lying there came into her mind she felt like part of her was dying all over again.

  “Have either of you had to look at your husband lying in a hospital bed, wondering if they were ever going to open their eyes again?” She spoke the words not with accusation or sarcasm, but with a deeply-seated need for someone else to really understand what she was feeling.

  “No,” Taryn admitted. “But each of them has had to sit beside our hospital beds, wondering the same thing of us.”

  Maggie stilled for a moment then turned slowly.

  “It’s true,” Lexi admitted. “And I thank God every day that Ian didn’t walk away because of it.”

  “Me, too,” agreed Taryn. “Jake was there for me every step of the way. And Michael was there for you, Maggie.”

  “But that’s different,” Maggie insisted defensively. “I didn’t purposely place myself in danger.”

  “Didn’t you?” Taryn asked quietly.

  Maggie froze. Did she? By ignoring her symptoms, by refusing to listen to Michael’s pleas to be checked out, hadn’t she been doing just that? Michael had never given up. Hadn’t he stuck by her, even though, she realized now, he had been worried about her, his doctor’s instincts telling him that something was terribly wrong despite her stubborn insistence otherwise?

  “You’re a strong-willed woman, Maggie. What if, when you left the hospital, Michael decided he couldn’t handle the possibility that something like that would happen again and left you forever?” Lexi offered gently.

&n
bsp; Maggie sank down in the nearest chair as the bitter truth dawned on her. “Oh my God,” she whispered.

  “And your baby?” Taryn said. “Could you look into your child’s eyes, knowing that your love is what brought him into this world?”

  “Our baby,” Maggie repeated softly. “Michael doesn’t even know about our baby.”

  “You haven’t told him yet?” Lexi asked. “Why not, Maggie?”

  “I’m so scared,” Maggie said, losing the battle to stay strong before them as tears began to fall unchecked from her eyes. “What if there’s something wrong?”

  “Because of the surgery?”

  “I had all those drugs. What if they hurt the baby?”

  Lexi nodded. “I know exactly how you feel. I had the same problem. I was terrified something was wrong with Patrick. I put off telling Ian until I knew everything was okay.”

  There was tremendous comfort, Maggie had to admit, in having someone who understood exactly what she was going through.

  “So we’ll take you for tests,” Taryn said, reasonably. “Not here, though. The boys will find out before we even have a chance to get there.”

  But Maggie shook her head. “I can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  Maggie exhaled. “No insurance. And I can’t afford to pay cash.”

  Taryn and Lexi exchanged a look. “And before you even think of suggesting it, I will not accept charity.”

  “Tell her,” Taryn prodded Lexi. “Tell her what you were telling me on the way over.”

  “Tell me what?”

  “Well, a couple of months ago Michael brought me some of your home-canned stuff. I loved it – so much so that I gave some to my partner, Aidan, and he loved it, too. We’ve had such a difficult time getting quality organic products for our menus, he wanted to talk to you about a possible business agreement.”

  “What kind of agreement?”

 

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