Love in Dublin

by Jennifer Gracen

  “Mind your business, mate,” Clark said over his shoulder.

  “I’m not yer mate,” Colin growled. “And if you don’t step back from her right now, I’m going to smash your face into the wall.”

  Clark blinked, then backed up and moved away from Maggie. He turned to look at Colin, whose strong features were knitted with cool fury. “She’s fine, old man.”

  “Aye, she is now,” Colin said. “You don’t come near her again. Ever. Or you’ll answer to me, then the garda.”

  “You’re overreacting,” Clark scoffed.

  “No he’s not,” Maggie said. “I told you to back off and you didn’t. You touched me instead. That’s harassment, asshole.”

  Colin’s eyes narrowed on Clark. “Leave the pub,” he said, his voice a tight, low snarl. “Now. Before I change my mind and smash your face anyway.”

  Without a glance back at her, Clark strode off. Colin watched him to ensure he left; when Clark walked out the door, he turned back to Maggie. “You all right?”

  “I’m fine,” she said, though her heart was beating wildly. “Thank you. How did you know?”

  “I saw you,” he said, his frown and lowered brows set in hard lines. “Your body language screamed something was up. When I saw him edge you back against the wall, your eyes rounded…” A muscle jumped in his set jaw. “I thought you might need help.”

  “My hero,” she murmured. “You have good instincts.” She lifted her hands to touch her cheeks, which felt blazing hot. “I need a drink. Can I buy you one too?”

  Colin nodded, but his eyes were glued to her hands. Those blues lingered a second before going back to her browns. “I didn’t notice that the other night.”

  “Notice what?” she asked, trying to breathe deeply. Her heart was still fluttering.

  Colin paused, eyes intense again. “Where’s your husband?” He gestured with his chin toward the wedding ring on her hand. “You’ve been here night after night without him. Maybe you should be with him. Maybe he should’ve been here to save you tonight, not me.”

  “For the record, I didn’t need saving, though I really appreciate what you did. I was about to slam my knee into his balls when you spoke up. I do know some self-defense, believe it or not.”

  He just stared at her, the crease etched between his furrowed brows, his face like stone.

  “I don’t have a husband, Colin,” she said quietly, her hands dropping to her sides. “I’m not married anymore. I’m a widow.”

  Chapter Three

  Colin’s breath stuck in his throat. A lance of shame pierced him, then regret. “I… I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be,” Maggie said. She shrugged casually, but her face was still flushed. The encounter with that hipster jackass had left her more shaken than she would admit to. “When you’re a woman traveling alone, you need all the ammunition you’ve got. I still wear the ring to try and ward off unwanted advances.”

  “I see,” he said. “Does it usually work?”

  “Most of the time. Not tonight, though. Some men simply don’t care if I’m married, they hit on me anyway. Some men just don’t like the word ‘no.’” She drew a deep breath and let it out. “Whatever. I’m fine. Thank you for your help. Please can I buy you a drink?”

  “Yes,” Colin said simply. He moved aside to give her room and gestured toward the back booth. “I’m at my usual perch in the corner.”

  “I noticed. I was going to come say hello at some point.” Maggie flashed a tiny grin, then walked with him.

  A widow, Colin thought, still dumbstruck. He believed her. The lightning quick flash of grief in her eyes when she’d said the words was genuine. But at her young age? Christ, she couldn’t be but thirty, maybe that. Curiosity overwhelmed him. He tried not to stare as he sat quietly across from her.

  “Want to share a basket of chips with me too?” Maggie asked with a smile.

  He blew out a long, slow breath, trying to make his tense muscles ease. He had to relax. His adrenaline had kicked in at the sight of that loser backing her up against the wall and putting his hands on her. But if she was okay now, he had to be too. “Sure, why not?”

  Deirdre, their server, appeared as if summoned and they placed their order. As soon as she walked away, Maggie said, “Colin… I swear I’m not married. I’m not out here playing around, looking to cheat on my husband. What I told you is true.”

  “I believe you.” Colin studied her. “May I ask a few questions?”

  “Sure.”

  “How old are you?”

  “Thirty.”

  He felt a lick of satisfaction to know he’d guessed correctly.

  “How old are you?” she asked.

  “Forty. Almost forty-one. A wee bit older than you.”

  “Only a wee bit,” she teased back lightly, tossing him one of those sunny smiles. “You don’t look it. Good genes in your family. I thought you were maybe thirty-six.”

  “I’ll take it.” He grinned back in spite of himself. “Ehm… how long has your husband been gone?”

  “Five years now,” she said, and the twinkle left her eyes.

  Colin winced. “I’m so sorry. He was young, then.”

  “We were twenty-five. Car accident.” Maggie’s voice was flat, as if she’d said the words a million times and it was now rote. “We were both in the car, he was driving. He was killed instantly. I woke up from a coma a week later.”

  Colin’s heart plummeted to his stomach as her words sank in. Two young people, their whole lives in front of them… then in a flash, him gone, and her waking up to what must have been utter devastation. A chill rolled over him and he shuddered. “Jesus Christ, I’m so sorry. I…”

  “Thank you.” Maggie fidgeted with the round cardboard coaster on the tabletop, spinning it in slow circles. “So, Colin. You ever been married?”

  She was forcibly turning the subject away from herself, and he couldn’t blame her. So although he usually hated talking about himself, he acquiesced. “Aye, I was. For nineteen years. Recently divorced. ’Bout nine months now.”

  Maggie’s eyes widened. “It’s like, a whole process to get a divorce in Ireland.”

  “You’re tellin’ me,” he muttered. “Wasn’t fun, or easy. But here I am. ’Tis done.”

  She leaned in, her eyes brighter. “Why?”

  “Why what?”

  “Why did you get divorced after all that time? Especially when this country makes it so hard to do it?” She bit down on her bottom lip. “I’m sorry, I’m just so curious. You can tell me to shut up.”

  To his own surprise, he shrugged and said, “It’s all right. Ehm… Trish and I never truly loved each other. I…” I watched all my brothers marry girls they were crazy in love with, and it made me realize what I’d never had. It made me angry enough to finally look at my miserable life and want out. “Unfortunately, it was a dead marriage from the start.”

  “Then why’d you get married at all?”

  “I got her pregnant.”

  “Oh. I see.”

  Deidre returned just then, placing a glass of pale ale before Maggie and darker stout in front of Colin. “Chips’ll be out in a minute.”

  They thanked her, then Maggie lifted her glass in a toast. “To my hero tonight. Thank you for stepping up for me.”

  “Bah, I’m no hero,” Colin said, “but you’re welcome.” He gently tapped his glass to hers and they drank. “I have to admit, I might’ve liked to see you slam your knee into his balls, like you said.”

  She laughed. “He would’ve deserved it.”

  “Damn right.” He felt his body ease some more, took another swallow of stout.

  “So you have a kid.” She continued as if they hadn’t been interrupted.

  “He’s a grown man now,” Colin said. “Nineteen and at university. My younger son is seventeen, and my daughter’s just turned fifteen.”

  Maggie studied him for a long moment, then declared, “You adore your kids.”

  “I do.”<
br />
  “Your whole face softened when you spoke of them.”

  “Did it?” He chuckled at that. “Well, they’re the best part of my life.”

  “That’s lovely.” Maggie chewed on her bottom lip, her keen eyes still on him. He tried not to stare at her luscious mouth. “So you live here now, in the city. They live with their mother?”

  “Aye.”

  “Are they in Dublin too?”

  “No, about fifteen minutes out. Not too far. She kept the house, of course.” He stole another sip of his drink. “You give everyone the third degree, or just me tonight?”

  “Everyone.” She smiled brightly, without apology. “I like meeting people, finding out their stories. It’s the best part of my job, other than the sights I get to see.”

  “I’d like to hear more about that,” he admitted.

  “What, my job?”

  He nodded, suddenly a bit shy. “I always wanted to travel. Planned to see the world. I didn’t get to. What you do sounds interesting.”

  She gazed at him for another long beat, and he could feel the wheels turning in her head. “You work at University College Dublin, you said. What do you do there?”

  “I’m head administrator of the Finance Department.”

  Her brows arched. “Well la-di-da. Go you.”

  He snorted and shook his head. “It’s dull as shite.”

  She laughed at that. “But still impressive. So you have regular office hours?”

  “Aye.”

  “Could you ever slip away for a day?”

  “Perhaps.” He thought about it, then said wryly, “Truth is, I have vacation time stocked up that I rarely use. I could easily take a day. Why do you ask?”

  “Because I have all these fun day trips planned,” Maggie said, “and maybe you’d like to come with me on one. I’d have a local to give me the real flavor, and you could see something that maybe you haven’t. Or at least, get out for a bit. It’s not the world, but it’s a start.” Her warm brown eyes danced as they held his. “Could be fun. And something tells me you could use a little fun.”

  “Oh really.”

  “Yup.”

  He rolled his eyes, but couldn’t ignore the hum in his blood as he looked at her.

  “I’m fun to be with,” she declared, and batted her long lashes as she smiled at him. He had to laugh; her exuberance was captivating. “I am! We could see some things. You could keep me company.”

  “Something tells me you never lack for company.”

  “Actually, I’m a loner, but I make friends easily.” She shot him a pointed look. “Sometimes too easily, if you know what I mean.”

  “Well, you’re an attractive young woman,” Colin said. To soften the statement, he exaggerated his Irish brogue as he added, “Of course men are goin’ ta make a beeline fer ya, lass. Ya just gotta make ’em pay for any unwanted attention.”

  She giggled, the light sound filling his chest with delight. “Well, I’ve taken lessons in boxing, karate, judo, and jiu-jitsu along the way—”

  “Now I’m the one who’s impressed,” he said. “And for better reason.”

  She smiled as she went on, “I travel alone. I have to be prepared. But having a big, strong companion on some of the more remote outings is never a bad thing. So join me, Colin. We’ll have some fun, and I could tell you more about my travels, since you seem to actually be interested.”

  “I am interested.” The admission made him feel bashful for some reason, but he swallowed it down. “So… these day trips. Where are you going?”

  “Well…” She reached into the small cross-body bag strapped over her shoulder and pulled out her cell phone. “Pulling up my itinerary for the weekend and next week, hold on.”

  As she scrolled on her phone, he took the opportunity to gaze at her. Maggie Spencer was a stranger. Brazen American. Too young, too pretty, too full of energy. What the hell was he thinking, saying yes to going off on a jaunt with her? He must have lost his mind.

  But she just drew him in. Like a man who’d been out in the cold for too long and found a fire burning, he wanted to get close enough to enjoy some of the warmth he’d been lacking… that he craved. He blinked at his thoughts.

  You wanted to do new things, he reminded himself. You’ve been free for almost a year, and you haven’t done a bloody thing. Do something, McKinnon.

  “Wherever you’re going on Saturday,” he heard himself say, “I’ll go with you.”

  She looked up from her phone to smile broadly at him. Pure sunshine. “Great.”

  *

  And so it was that Colin found himself being led on a guided tour of The Little Museum of Dublin on Saturday morning. He knew of it but had never been there, having written it off as a commercial tourist trap. He was gratified to find he’d been partially wrong. Yes, some of it played to tourists, but it had its merits—lots of attractions in a small space, and the staff was friendly and knowledgeable. And of course, his companion for the day definitely made his natural glass-half-empty nature feel like it was being filled. Maggie Spencer was delightful. Something about her had snuck through a crack in his frozen core, filling it with a shaft of light.

  She’d greeted him with a warm handshake and that dazzling smile. She’d been waiting for him by the front entrance, right on time. He liked that; Trish was always late and it had made him bonkers. Maggie was a ball of energy, ready to go. With her natural charm, she had the young male tour guide eating from the palm of her hand within minutes. She asked many questions, good ones that showed her sharp mind. She took copious notes in a small notebook, explaining to Colin that she’d sort through them and transfer them to her laptop later.

  After the Little Museum, they enjoyed a long walk through St. Stephen’s Green, which was fully lush, dark green, and perfect on an early August day. As sunlight played through the trees, Maggie told him about other favorite public parks in cities she’d visited: Central Park in New York City; Forest Park in Portland, Oregon; Humboldt Park in Chicago, an old haunt in her college days. Then she added the Villa Borghese in Rome, Vondelpark in Amsterdam, Hyde Park in London, Englischer Garten in Munich, Parque de Retiro in Madrid, Parc des Buttes Chaumont in Paris… her list flummoxed him. It left him astonished and made him ache with wanderlust.

  Then they headed over to Grafton Street, always bustling with activity. Colin watched Maggie eye the people, the many storefronts and boutiques, and had to admit he enjoyed it as well; he hadn’t strolled along here in ages. He’d always relished a long walk, just to take in surroundings, but Trish hadn’t. If she wasn’t going out for a specific purpose, she disliked going out for “no reason.” Colin stole more than a few glances at his attractive companion. Maggie understood the appeal of simply wandering; she knew it wasn’t for “no reason,” but for all the best reasons. Something told him that though he’d known Maggie for a few days and Trish for half his life, Maggie might understand him on levels that Trish never had.

  “I’m starving,” Maggie declared. “Tell me you’re ready for lunch.”

  “I could eat,” he said.

  “Well, the Guinness tour starts at three,” she said, “and if I don’t eat, I’ll take two sips and land on my face. Can’t have that. I don’t get drunk in public.”

  “Ever?”

  “A woman traveling alone? That’s asking for trouble. I’m lucky, I can hold my alcohol pretty well. Two drinks don’t really affect me. But more than that, no. I only tie one on in safe places, with safe people.”

  He nodded, considering that. She was smart.

  “Lunchtime!” She pulled him into a classic-looking typical pub.

  They settled into a high-backed booth in the dark wood-paneled room. Before the server had even brought their drinks, she was asking him questions. About his upbringing, about university, about his kids—she certainly wasn’t shy. He gave her stilted answers, but he did answer. Because she wasn’t asking to just make chatter, she seemed genuinely interested, and he found himself responding
to her naturally inquisitive yet friendly nature.

  But he noticed that while she loved to ask him about him, she wasn’t as forthcoming about her own life, other than the sights she’d seen. No personal details. Recognizing that, he waited until the server had set their entrees down before subtly turning the tables on her. Fair was fair.

  “So where is home for you, Maggie?” Colin reclined a bit, the dark green leather booth cool at his back as he eyed their tremendous burgers.

  “Home?” She shrugged as she picked up hers from her plate. “Wherever I go, that’s where I am.”

  Her evasive answer confused him. “You don’t have a home base somewhere?”

  “I’m a traveler,” she said, then bit into her burger. He took a bite of his, waiting before she continued, “I don’t stay in any one place for too long. A few weeks, a month at the most. Then I’m off again. So to pay rent on an apartment I’ll rarely see seems foolish.”

  “Really.”

  “Yup. I make my living from writing about traveling; I travel. Gotta go where the jobs are. In fact, truth be told, this job will be the longest I’ve stayed in one place since I was twenty-five. Then, as I said, I’ll be off again. That’s how I roll.”

  Colin mulled that over. He was simply flabbergasted at the idea. He was so deeply rooted into his life—first being part of the huge McKinnon clan, then by having his own family, which rooted him in twice as deep—that he couldn’t imagine being so completely untethered. To be free to pick up and go anywhere, anytime, at a moment’s notice… it was an alien concept.

  But one that was also exciting and alluring.

  “I think I’m a wee bit jealous,” he finally said. “I’m the exact opposite. Rooted into the ground here. Hell, even when I finally got my freedom, I didn’t go far, did I? Couldn’t. Needed to be near my kids. I always will be.”

  “Right now, while they’re young, you should be,” Maggie said. “But hey, they’re growing up. One day, much sooner than later, you’ll be free to go somewhere else if you wanted. Have you thought of that?”

  His eyes widened and he scrubbed a hand over the back of his neck. Live somewhere else? Do something solely for himself? “Not really.”