Risk It All (MacAteer Brothers Book 4)

by ML Nystrom

  Patrick couldn’t help the pinch in his heart. His brother articulated the words he’d been feeling since they pulled up outside of Gallaghers’s a few months ago. “Yeah, I get it. I’ve had a few thoughts about it myself.”

  “Anything to do with Sloane or is it the pub?”

  Patrick brought the chop saw down and the noise provided him with a moment of privacy. The pub meant a lot to him, but where did Sloane fit in? When he spotted Claudio sitting with her the other day, he had the urge to jerk the man from the booth and beat the shit out of him. Sloane’s words “I don’t know what you’re trying to accomplish, but I don’t want any part of it” had stopped him in his tracks.

  At the memory, he thought, Good, continuing to check the fitting of the new brace. Somewhere along the way, he’d started thinking about Sloane as his. He didn’t know when it had happened. They’d started as friends, then coworkers, and now she’d become an integral part of his life. Being at the pub had turned into his favorite part of the day, however, it was seeing Sloane behind the bar that he looked forward to most.

  Her ever-changing hair color and style, her easy talk with patrons, her no-nonsense approach to trouble makers, her smile, her laugh, her teasing, the whole tiny package that was her. He’d gotten sick to his stomach when he’d thought she might ban him from the pub, but in truth, he would never regret the kiss he stole from her. Nor could he forget her reaction to him. The way her lips molded perfectly to his like she was made for him.

  “Yo, Patrick! You gonna stare at that piece all damn day or get it in place?”

  Patrick flipped off his brother and picked up a hammer and four nails.

  “Can you fuck her and walk away?”

  Patrick raised his eyes to the sky. He’d done that dozens of times over the years and now the thought of being inside Sloane for one night and then never again sent spikes of pain through his heart. “No. I can’t.”

  “You love her, don’t you, brother?”

  Yes, he did. He loved her. He loved everything about her, and that realization scared the shit out of him.

  Patrick stopped and met his twin’s eyes. “Yeah, I think I do, and I don’t have a fuckin’ clue what to do about it.”

  Angus shrugged and tapped the overhead beam into place. “You got two choices. Either tell her and see if she feels the same, or keep your mouth shut and watch her get with someone else.”

  “What if she doesn’t want to be with me like that?”

  “Sometimes you gotta risk it all to get what you want.”

  Chapter Nine

  “Bow down, mere mortals! Patrick MacAteer is in the hoooouuuse!”

  “Fuck,” I muttered under my breath as my stomach flipped over. Then I schooled my features into my normal acerbic self. “Yo, Bacchus incarnate! People been askin’ for that damn drink of yours all night. Get your ass back here ’cause I ain’t servin’ that.”

  The penis colossus had taken a step further down to the gutter and got renamed Patrick’s dick by one of the random harem of his that showed up on a regular basis. I didn’t know for sure, but I believe it was Reese who started it. She loved coming to the bar and ordering in a loud voice, “I want a tall Patrick’s dick.” Tall meaning the seven-inch test tube glass, not the six inch. I hated it with a passion, but women kept ordering the damn things with a giggle and the register rang up dozens of them every night.

  “You okay, Sloane?” Patrick beamed as he slipped behind the bar. He started wearing black T-shirts with the company logo same as me. It fit tight across his formed pecs and shoulders, and the sleeves barely held his rounded biceps and triceps. I didn’t know what it was about a man’s triceps that I loved so much but seeing those perfect-shaped muscles made it harder to fight the attraction I had for this man.

  Now that I’d seen what laid under that shirt made it harder.

  “I’m good. Gordon’s gonna come down later after the baby goes to bed.”

  He nodded and made a humming noise in acknowledgment. Maybe it was my imagination, but he’d been acting funny the last few times he’d been around me. “Anything happening tonight?”

  “Nope, just Friday night karaoke and selling booze. The rain will keep some people at home, but your harem is here.”

  Patrick raspberried me at my harem comment. I raised my eyebrow. “Who else do you think wants that damn dick drink of yours?”

  His face split into a wide smile and I braced. “Oh, come now, darlin’. Maybe you should try a Patrick’s dick once. You might like it.”

  The sudden peal of thunder boomed, reflecting my current mood. The clouds opened up and dumped their entire contents on the street outside. I couldn’t say why my mood was so damn shitty. Maybe my body was prepping for a sporadic period and maybe I was just in a bad funk. Either way, I had the rare desire for people to drink their drinks and go the fuck home.

  Patrick made his concoction and served it to the bevy of women who sat at their usual spot. I did my best to shut off my ears to their squeals at whatever lines Patrick fed them. Jealous? A little, I supposed. It wasn’t often anymore that I dreamed about being one of those women at the bar—the ones with the perfect bodies, perfect hair, and perfect lives.

  I knew appearances can be deceiving, probably more than most. Plenty of people put on big showy façades to hide what really went on inside. If thoughts were audible, perhaps Reese’s inner dialogue was closer to a desperate plea for someone, anyone to love her. If so, she picked the wrong one as Patrick didn’t act like he had any intention of bonding to only one woman. I imagined that after her frequent trips to sit at the bar and make her plays, she went home and cried into her pillow, praying that Patrick would see more in her than a regular customer who liked his drink recipe.

  I was glad I’d wised up to that a long time ago. I did, didn’t I?

  The universe decided to fuck with me tonight. The door opened up and a single customer came in absolutely drenched. Claudio slicked back his soaked hair and caught me looking at him. His face broke into a huge smile and my belly dropped to the floor.

  Damnit, why me?

  He looked good, even dripping water and forming a puddle under his feet.

  Don’t go there, Sloane. You already know how that story ended. Time to let bygones be bygones. Simply treat him like any other customer.

  I pointed a finger at him and used my sternest voice to hide the tremble in my knees. “Don’t move one inch from that spot!”

  My loud yell captured the attention of the bar patrons. I picked up several clean hand towels and walked them over to my ex. “Dry yourself before you come any further.”

  His eyes glowed. “Concerned about me getting pneumonia?”

  “More like not having to clean up after your ass. What the hell are you doing out in this shit?”

  He laughed and those dulcet tones hit me straight in the heart. God, I used to love that laugh. When I’d had a bad day, all he had to do was smile and let out a few ha-has and I’d be better. It always worked up until it didn’t. I thought perhaps he wanted his Wednesday visit to rekindle something.

  Not gonna happen.

  He scrubbed a towel over his head and face and blotted his clothes with another one. “I photographed a wedding reception a few blocks over and thought I’d stop by for a drink. I didn’t plan on walking through a deluge.”

  I made a noise in my throat. “I suppose not. You’re dry enough to come to the bar now.”

  My head said, Fake it, fake it, fake it, as I turned to go back to my customary spot. “Clark, my man!” Patrick greeted him as I took a bottled beer order. “What brings you out tonight?”

  The soaked man visibly gritted his teeth. “Claudio. I’m looking for company other than bridezillas and their anxious mothers.”

  Out of habit, I flipped the tool on my finger a few times then popped the cap off into the air and batted it into the trash can with the back of the opener. “Tab or pay as you go?”

  “Pay as you go.”

  I to
ok the twenty the guy handed me and made change at the register. Claudio sat at the bar away from the harem as Patrick made him a cranberry vodka. Their conversation wasn’t private as they didn’t check their volume.

  “You getting married?”

  “God, no, just taking pics. How that woman got anyone to put a ring on her finger is beyond me. Nothing made her happy. She complained about the color of the flowers not being the right shade of pink. Two tablecloths were uneven in the reception hall. One of the bridesmaids had a shoulder tattoo that showed. The dresses were strapless… need I say more? You name it, she had something to say about it.”

  Patrick tossed three ice cubes in the air and caught them in a glass as they came down. This wasn’t easy as the cubes tended to bounce out and you had to drop the glass a bit as you got them. He’d been practicing this trick for a while and I hadn’t been giving him any shit about it. Ice on the floor wasn’t that big a deal and he always cleaned up after himself. “I don’t get that.”

  “Get what?”

  “Weddings. People spend ten thousand or more on what? Crepe paper and a pretty dress? Useless.”

  Claudio took a big swallow of the drink and cleared his throat. “Take it easy on weddings, man. That’s part of my livelihood now.”

  “You get paid a lot for taking pictures?”

  “Made fifteen hundred tonight. Probably make another six or seven from the people in the wedding party.”

  “No shit?”

  Claudio shook his head.

  Patrick whistled through his teeth. “Damn, I’m in the wrong business.”

  “Change your mind about weddings?”

  “As long as it’s not mine.”

  “Hey, Patrick, if you did have a wedding someday, what would it be like?” Reese chimed in. She looked a little miffed to be left out of the conversation.

  Patrick put a thoughtful expression on his face. “If I ever fell into the marriage trap, there’s only one way I’d ever seal the deal. Vegas. Drive through chapel. Drunk Elvis officiating. The works. I wouldn’t even tell my woman we’re doing it. I’d just take her there and get it done.”

  Claudio tipped the last of the drink into his mouth and waved off a second one. “You have one flaw in your plan. Have to have a girlfriend first. Got one?”

  A big smile and laugh erupted from Patrick’s mouth. “Fuck no, too much hassle.”

  Claudio and several other people joined in the mirth at Patrick’s words, but I could see the devastation on Reese’s face. She was more into Patrick than I thought, and for a moment she had my sympathy.

  My chest tightened up and the need for solitude hit me with enough force I couldn’t breathe. “I’m going in the back to take stock. Holler if you need me.”

  I didn’t bother to look at anyone as I left. The clipboard with the current inventory hung on a peg just inside the storeroom. Cases and kegs stayed in the big walk-in cooler along with other refrigerated ingredients. Liquor boxes and other supplies stacked up on the brand-new wood shelves Patrick and Angus built earlier this week.

  There were other updates around the bar that needed to happen. One of the bathrooms needed new stall locks and faucets that didn’t drip. Several booth seats had big tears in them. The light over the dartboards partitioned off at the back of the bar tended to flicker from some sort of short. I sighed as I contemplated the never-ending list of work. Tomorrow, I’d call a contractor. It really wasn’t fair for me to expect Patrick to do it when he had helped me out so much already.

  I went into the humming walk-in and made marks on the page. There were inventory apps I could keep on my phone to use, but I liked using pen and paper. As I counted and wrote down the numbers, the door cracked open behind me.

  “Gotta tap a new Killian’s keg. Gordon’s up front now. You okay back here?” Patrick came in dragging a hand-truck.

  “Yeah, I’m good.”

  He found the right keg and grunted as he tilted it to slip the metal plate under it. The close quarters had him brushing against me. “I noticed you’re not happy about Claudio being here. He bothering you again?”

  “Not really. We dated a few years back, then he left. That’s all.”

  “Is he trying to win you back?”

  The acidic tone in his voice had me looking up from my clipboard. His face was only a hairbreadth away from mine and I saw the striations in his eyes. Bands of green, blue, and teal stared back at me. That now familiar thrill coursed through my middle and I prayed he didn’t see any visible reaction from it. “I’m not planning on it, and why should it matter to you?”

  “It matters.”

  “Why?”

  “It just does.”

  His ire got on my last nerve and I let him know it. “You have several dozen women panting after you on a nightly basis, including one sitting out there right now, and you’re mad because a man from my past, someone I dated, might be interested in me. Do I have that right?”

  “Yeah, you got it right.”

  I slammed the clipboard down on the keg and opened on him with two barrels. “First of all, the breakup between Claudio and I was messy. Very messy. Not going back for seconds, ever. Second, who the fuck do you think you are? My private life is none of your business. If I want to take Claudio upstairs and fuck him for old time’s sake, that too, is none of your business. Third… I don’t know what third is!”

  “No.” His growl should have warned me.

  “What do you mean ‘no’?” I spat.

  “No, you’re not taking him up to your place to fuck for any reason. Not when you kissed me like you did last week.”

  My stomach pulled a sharp curve in my middle. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “Confession time, sweetheart. That kiss put a fire in my gut that still burns. Your taste, your sweet lips, I can’t get it out of my mind and it’s driving me crazy. Every time that asshole comes in here, he watches you with hungry eyes. I want to take him outside and beat the shit out of him. I’ve never felt like that before about any woman. There could be hundreds of ladies out there, all lined up to be with me, share my bed, be my girlfriend or whatever. Truth is there’s only one woman I’ve ever considered for that title and she’s standing right here in front of me. ”

  My jaw dropped. Of all the words I expected to come out of Patrick’s mouth, those were further out than Jupiter.

  For the first time in forever, I had nothing. Nada. No witty comebacks. No flippant sentences. No puns or jokes.

  I only had action. I raised my hand to grip his neck and pull him down to me. My mouth melded with his as he let go of the hand-truck and it clanged into the keg it held. I swear steam rose from us as we heated up the cold walk-in. Our tongues tangled for a brief moment, then he took over. Heat zapped me to my toes. His breaths, his heartbeats, and his hard want was evident against me as he drew me into himself. It had been a long time since I felt this way. Like someone thought me beautiful and worthy of attention. A heavy ache settled between my legs and I squeezed my thighs together in an attempt to find some relief.

  Was it real? Fairy tales and romance novels had happy endings where the guy and girl always triumphed over whatever conflict drove them apart. It wasn’t the same in real life. Cinderella didn’t always get her prince. I thought I had that happy, pretty fairy ending once, all wrapped up in pretty pink unicorn ribbons. Instead, I got smacked down with a dose of reality that crippled some people forever. I survived, but not without scars, ones I would carry the rest of my existence.

  I wasn’t immune to handsome men and had done my share of fantasizing when alone in bed and even pictured Patrick a time or two when I played with my vibrator. But having him in the flesh, kissing me, touching me, desiring me; I imagined how good it would feel to have that hard dick pressing against my stomach slide inside me. Fuck, I wanted it so bad I could cry. Could I dare take a chance? Should I risk it all on the hope that someone could actually care about me? Perhaps even love me?

  A whimper escaped
from my throat as his hand moved from the ball of my shoulder to my collarbone. His hand started drifting downward to my chest, and I froze up.

  Not yet! Not yet! I’m not ready!

  I tore my mouth away from him and painfully gasped in the frigid air. “Patrick, I need—”

  A loud banging on the walk-in door had both of us jumping apart. “Patrick, we need that keg ASAP, man. You need help in there?”

  Gordon’s voice chilled us quicker than the temperature of the giant refrigerator. Patrick pulled back and his warm breath caressed my lips as he called back, “I got it. Be right there.”

  “You seen Sloane?”

  “Bathroom.”

  “Oh, okay. See you up front.”

  Patrick’s eyes glittered at me. “This isn’t over, darlin’. I’ll come up to your place after the bar closes, yeah?”

  Panic filled every cell in my body. “No, you can’t.”

  Confusion crossed his face. “Why not?”

  “You just can’t.”

  His took my hand and placed it on his stiff dick. My fingers curled around that thick hard length as he gripped it with me. “Feel that? This is for you. This is what you do to me every night I come here.”

  “Please, let me go.” Fuck, could I sound any more pleading?

  “I bet if I put my hand down your pants, I’d find your pussy soaked.”

  “Patrick.”

  “This wouldn’t be for one night, baby. I’ve never said this to any woman before, but when I look at you, I see a future. I see someone who makes me want to settle down and be in one place. I see a woman who sets my blood racing just with the thought of being with her. I see someone I could love, maybe for the long haul. I know you don’t think I have staying power, and for most of my life, you’d be right. But this is the first time I’ve ever met a woman I wanted to stay with at all. Please, let me come up later and I’ll show you how serious I am.”