Chapter Two
“Excuse 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.
“You’re not leaving, are you?” Aidan frowned.
“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.
* * *
Aidan 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.”
He sighed dramatically. “No hook-up?”
The corners of her lips quirked, as he’d hoped. “No.”
“Ah, well,” he lamented ruefully. “It’s still the best offer I’ve had all night. I’m in your responsible hands, Mary. Be gentle with me.”
Chapter Three
In that single, unguarded moment, Mary actually felt his loneliness. It seeped into her bones more than the cold, damp flurries falling softly all around her. She shouldn’t even be thinking what she was thinking. He was a stranger who had just tried to pick her up in a bar.
Yet something in him called out to something in her, and she knew that he was the reason she’d been unable to leave the parking lot. As she sat in her Jeep Grand Cherokee, the snow had begun falling in earnest, but she was warm and cozy with the defroster on full blast. She wasn’t sure what she was waiting for until she saw the gorgeous blonde man slip into the lot from around the back.
Mary wasn’t overly religious, nor did she claim to have any psychic talents, but she did believe that things happened for a reason.
She couldn’t let him drive in his condition. He’d end up killing himself or someone else. She could go back inside and call the Sheriff, but that would just get him tossed in a holding cell overnight, and no one should start the New Year off in jail. Besides, her instincts told her that he was basically a good guy going through a rough patch. It was certainly something she could relate to, and for whatever reason, she was in the right place at the right time to help.
The parking lot was quickly becoming slick, which meant the roads wouldn’t be much better. Mary led the way to her car and opened the door, only to turn around and find Aidan on his rear end looking somewhat confused. She went back and helped him to his feet, then held his arm until he was safely inside the vehicle. After fastening his seat belt, she slipped the Jeep into four-wheel drive and carefully pulled out of the lot.
Neither of them spoke much on the way back to her place. When Mary chanced a sideways glance his way, he appeared to be dozing.
Getting him out of the car was a bit difficult in the limited space of her garage, but they were able to manage without too much trouble. He towered over her, enough that her shoulders were the perfect height for him to lean on. Wrapping one of her arms around his waist, she was able to keep him upright and moving forward. He remained quiet as she gently guided him toward the guest bedroom and eased him into a soft chair. Her big yellow Lab, Max, padded along beside them, looking both interested and curious.
“Big dog,” Aidan commented, eyeing Max warily out of the corner of his eye.
“Yeah, he’s my shadow.”
“Should I be worried?” he asked, when the dog sat down within lunging distance and focused his gaze on Aidan as if trying to decide just what part of him would be the juiciest.
“Only if you try to hurt me.”
Mary wasn’t quite certain that was true. Max was the most easy-going dog she’d ever had, but he was very attached to her. She always suspected he’d come to her rescue if need be, but that theory had never, thankfully, been tested.
She pulled down the corner of the navy blue comforter, revealing ice-blue linens beneath, then disappeared in the adjoining bathroom to return with a big fluffy towel. She dried Aiden’s hair the best she could, then patted softly around his face and neck. He had the loveliest glow to his skin, smooth and golden, almost like he’d spent a few weeks in the Mediterranean, but she sensed it was just his natural coloring.
“I won’t hurt you, Mary,” he said softly.
She felt his eyes on her as she knelt before him and removed his shoes, one at a time, when he seemed incapable of doing so himself. Beautiful eyes of golden brown, not unlike a tiger’s - studied her face as she unbuttoned his soaked shirt.
When she reached the buckle of his pants, he caught her wrists with his hands. She felt the strength in them, suppressing a gasp. Bringing a strange man back to her house suddenly seemed like a very foolish thing to do. Her good intentions ran and cowered into the corners of her mind, despite the words he’d just uttered so sincerely a few moments prior.
“I’m drunk,” he said solemnly.
“Yes,” she agreed. Mary held her breath, even though it was confusion she saw in his eyes, not malice. His grip, while strong, was not painful. Despite the fact that his hands were chilled from the cold weather, heat pooled beneath her skin where he touched her.
“I don’t think I’m capable of getting it up right now.”
Her heart beat furiously in her chest, but outwardly she remained calm. “No, probably not. But that’s really not an issue.”
His confusion grew; his eyes searched her face. “You don’t want to have sex with me?”
She couldn’t say no, because some secret part of her did very much want to have sex with him at that moment. He was an extraordinarily good-looking man, more suited to a Hollywood leading man than an ordinary guy who just had a little too much to drink at a Birch Falls tavern. If the taut, hard muscles she felt beneath those clothes were any indication, he was built like a Calvin Klein model, too. Her thoughts strayed for a moment, wondering what it would be like to make love with a man who had tiger’s eyes and a body like that.
Shocked at that realization, she hushed that dark, wicked urge and promised herself she was going to cut back on the erotic romance novels. Maybe she’d download a few good mysteries to her eReader instead.
“How about we just get you out of these wet things?”
“But... you brought me back to your place. And you’re trying to take my clothes off.”
His voice, deep and smooth, caressed against her feminine parts, sending unfamiliar tingles into generally dormant zones. She ignored it.
“I brought you back to my place because you are in no shape to drive, or to be left alone, for that matter. And I’m trying to help you undress because your clothes are wet with melting snow and you’re shivering.”
She spoke soothingly, feeling a small ache in her chest for this beautiful man who was having trouble believing she didn’t want to do anything but help him. Didn’t he have a family or friends who cared for him?
He thought about that for several long moments, his eyes burning into her with such intensity she felt like he could see that little sexy part hiding in the shadows. Then he exhaled. “Oh. Okay.”
He still didn’t look convinced, but he allowed her to tug his pants and socks off, leaving only his black silk boxers untouched, then guide him over to the bed.
“Um, while you’re under the covers, how about pulling off the rest yourself?”
It took a moment for her words to register, but when they did, he grinned wickedly. “Help me.”
She fought the urge to grin back at him. There was something heartrendingly adorable about a gorgeous, almost-naked man being playfully naughty. “No,” she said, trying to infuse a bit of firmness into h
er tone. “You can do it.”
“Please?” he asked hopefully.
She crossed her arms over her chest. “No.”
He sighed, his grin turning into a look of intense concentration as he tried to remove his boxers beneath the sheets without becoming completely entangled. After several minutes of watching him struggle, she exhaled heavily and reached under the covers to help him.
“Stay still,” she commanded, wishing her voice sounded firmer and a bit less breathy.
“Your hands are so warm and soft,” he murmured, surrendering to her.
He grew still as she maneuvered the briefs down his legs and over his feet. Resisting the urge to take a peek (if only to convince her mind that what her hands were telling her was real), she resettled the covers over him. She felt the blush creep up her cheeks, but she needn’t have worried about his reaction. When her eyes made it back up to his face, she saw that he had passed out cold.
For no logical reason whatsoever, she brushed the damp golden locks from his forehead and pressed her lips to his as the grandfather clock down the hall tolled the arrival of the New Year. “Happy New Year, Aidan.”
Mary left the night light on in the bathroom and the door cracked to allow some light through. He would probably be sleeping it off for some time, but just in case he got up in the middle of the night she didn’t want him to panic. Making sure that the guest bathroom had all the essentials a man might need – soap, shampoo, towels, toothbrush, toothpaste, disposable razor, toilet paper - she gathered his wet clothes and closed the bedroom door behind her.
Her washer and dryer were located in the pantry just off the kitchen. She started the water and added a little detergent, then proceeded to empty his pockets and set the contents on top of the dryer. Wallet. Keys. Monogrammed handkerchief with the letters ACH. A small comb. She held each one of them out to Max and let him sniff them. She wasn’t sure what, if anything, she expected, but his hackles didn’t rise and he didn’t let out a warning growl or anything, so she figured that was a good thing.
Then she placed his shoes near the heating vent, quietly appreciating the fine Italian leather and hoping, for his sake, that they weren’t ruined. She wasn’t quite sure, but she thought Bruno Maglis like these averaged several hundred dollars a pop if not more.
Bottom Line: Callaghan Brothers, Book 8 Page 2
