All Mine
Page 1
Table of Contents
Excerpt
All Mine
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Epilogue
Thank you for purchasing this publication of The Wild Rose Press, Inc.
“And we are thirty seconds from the New Year,”
the TV announced.
Shamus stood in front of Maggie, drawing her to her feet.
“Twenty seconds!”
His dark blue eyes appeared almost indigo in the soft light of the bar.
“Ten seconds!”
“Nine…eight…”
He cupped her face in his hands.
“Five…four…”
I can’t kiss him. I’m engaged.
As the old year closed and the new one began, Shamus touched his lips to hers. The noise surrounding them faded.
The warmth of his callused hands framed her face. His rum and coke flavored kiss began with a tenderness that stole the breath from her lungs. As his kiss grew in intensity, the warm swirls that had danced in her blood all night grew as well, reaching a lava hot stage within seconds.
When Maggie was fifteen, her mother told her about the first time she kissed Maggie’s father. “Once in your life,” her mother said, “there’s a kiss that shatters everything you thought you knew and changes the direction of your life.”
She understood now. Maggie pressed her fingers to her lips in a fruitless attempt to hold onto the sweetest kiss of her life. Tears strangled her heart at the realization that it was also the most bitter, since it could only mean farewell.
All Mine
by
Tamrie Foxtail
A Candy Hearts Romance
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
All Mine
COPYRIGHT © 2016 by Tamrie Foxtail
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
Contact Information: info@thewildrosepress.com
Cover Art by Kristian Norris
The Wild Rose Press, Inc.
PO Box 708
Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708
Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com
Publishing History
First Sweetheart Rose Edition, 2016
Digital ISBN 978-1-5092-0668-1
A Candy Hearts Romance
Published in the United States of America
Dedication
To my dearest friends
Michele Brandow and Anna Kittrell.
~*~
Michele, many of the happiest memories of my youth involve you. I think we’re all grown up now, and that’s a little bit sad.
Anna, you’re an amazing writer and the best critique partner I could ask for.
~*~
The two of you have been with me through ups and downs, hurricanes, ice storms, and teenagers.
~*~
I love you both,
and I’m so grateful for our years together.
Chapter One
“You are no help,” Steph muttered, bracing her elbows on the polished bar.
“I’m not into paper dolls.”
His sister rolled her eyes. Shamus could almost hear their mother saying, “Don’t you roll those eyes at me, young lady.”
“Paper hearts,” Steph corrected.
“What the hell are you cutting out paper hearts for?”
“You know those little candy hearts you get around Valentine’s Day?”
He nodded.
“Jason came up with this idea to use those as the theme for a Valentine’s Day promotion.”
“This is a bar.”
“Really? I had no idea.”
He ignored the sarcasm. “I thought women wanted to go to a nice restaurant for Valentine’s Day, not a bar.”
“This is for New Year’s Eve; we always have a good crowd then. I’m writing one of those cute candy heart sayings on the front, you know: Hugs, Cutie, All Mine. Some of them will have a prize on the back, but you can only redeem it on Valentine’s Day.”
He looked at the stack of pink and red construction paper. “How many do you need?”
“One hundred.”
New Year’s Eve was in two days. He held out his hand.
Stephanie handed him a pair of scissors and a stack of paper. “Speaking of New Year’s,” she said, “do you have a date?”
“No fix ups.”
“You have to have a date on New Year’s Eve.”
“You fixed me up with Paris. Look how well that turned out.”
Stephanie shrugged. “She seemed nice when we were at Pilates. How was I supposed to know she was a psycho slut?”
“Fix ups are not your strong point. Stick to coming up with new drinks. You’re good at that.”
“Her name’s Marlie,” Steph continued. “Her boyfriend just dumped her, and she’s feeling down. Dina says she’s really nice, and she’s cute.”
The front door of the bar opened. His brother-in-law, Jason, walked in, along with a scattering of snow.
Shamus held up one hand in greeting before turning back to his sister. “So, you don’t even know this woman?”
“She works at the Matlock with Dina.”
“If she’s cute and nice, why’d he dump her?”
Stephanie set the scissors on the gleaming surface of the bar and held her hands eight inches from her chest. “She was dumped for a party girl with huge breasts and a small IQ.”
Shamus laughed. “I’ll pass, Steph, but thanks.”
“I’m not taking no for an answer.”
“And I’m not going out with this woman.”
Brother and sister faced off across the polished bar. Jason set two bundles of darts between them. “If Steph wins, you go out with this girl.”
“Fine.” Shamus took one of the bundles and smiled at his sister. “And when I win, you’re not allowed to try fixing me up ever again.”
“I won’t try to fix you up for a month.”
“Ever again.”
Five minutes later, they had agreed to a compromise. Stephanie would refrain from all attempted fix ups for one year if Shamus won.
“Around the world?” Stephanie asked, moving from behind the bar to one of the dartboards.
****
New Year’s Eve
“C’mon, Maggie. You have to do it.”
Maggie Grant folded her arms across her chest. “No. I don’t have to.”
“It’s New Year’s Eve, and you don’t have a date. I have two. I’m giving you one. All you have to do is pretend you’re me.”
“Just call your friend and tell her you have to cancel.”
“I begged Dina to find me a date. I can’t tell her I’m canceling, not after she talked her friend, Stephanie, into finding me one.”
“You called me over for this?” A dull throb began at the base of Maggie’s skull. A Marlie headache their brother Marc called it. Heaven knew her younger sister had given her plenty of them over the years.
“What about Logan?” Maggie asked.
“What about him?”
“We’re engaged.”
“He’s in London for a month. He doesn’t mind.”
&
nbsp; And the Marlie headache was growing. “How do you know?”
“I texted him and explained the situation, and he said you need to have a little fun, all you do is work and worry.” Marlie pulled her phone from her purse and scrolled through texts until she found what she was looking for.
Maggie read over the messages the two had exchanged just an hour ago and groaned. That was just like Logan, worried that she was missing out on life.
“Marlie Kathryn—”
“Uh-oh,” her sister said, “first and middle name.”
The doorbell rang.
“That’s him,” Marlie said. She pushed Maggie toward the bedroom. “I hung a dress up on the back of the door.”
The door closed behind her.
****
Shamus assumed the strawberry blonde who answered the door was Marlie Grant until she motioned him in saying, “Hi. My sister’s getting dressed.” She grabbed a red beaded purse off the end table. “I’ll be going. My boyfriend’s picking me up downstairs.”
Feeling like a whirlwind had just blown past, he watched her go. What kind of man had his girlfriend wait downstairs instead of picking her up at the door?
A door opened, and a redhead stepped out. Shamus’s breath caught in his throat. The royal blue dress revealed knockout cleavage and legs that could put a model to shame.
She cleared her throat. “My eyes are up here.”
“So they are.” If he had to endure a blind date, at least she was a stunner.
****
If she had to put up with Marlie’s castoff, at least he was a good-looking one. His name? Had Marlie even mentioned it?
She couldn’t very well ask. Maybe he’d made reservations somewhere. He’d have to give his name then.
He opened the door, motioning for her to precede him.
“I’m parked across the street.” He pointed and pressed the key fob. Lights flashed on a black pickup. With her luck, he’d turn out to be a serial killer.
“You all right?” he asked as he held the door open.
“Just a headache,” she muttered. She slid into the passenger seat.
He rested his hands on the top of the car door. “I know this is a fix up,” he said. “That’s no reason not to enjoy the evening.”
Except that she was engaged to be married in less than two months. She was so going to kill her sister for putting her in this position.
Chapter Two
The Roost. Maggie had heard of the bar. She’d had the impression it was along the lines of an Irish pub.
Her date held the ornate door open. Inside, a live band played country music. Couples mingled on the dance floor.
“There you are,” a woman said, motioning them over to the bar.
Her date placed a hand on Maggie’s lower back, guiding her to the bar.
“Marlie, this is my sister, Stephanie. Steph, Marlie Grant.”
“You let me know if my brother forgets his manners. He may be bigger than I am, but I’m still the oldest.”
“He’s been a perfect gentleman,” Maggie said truthfully as she slid onto the barstool.
“What can I get you?” Stephanie asked.
A name. Would it be asking too much to have someone mention this man’s name?
“I’m Jason,” a dark-haired man behind the bar said, placing little pink condiment cups filled with candy hearts on the counter. “You must be the famous Marlie Grant,”
She took a deep breath, pressing both hands on the cool, smooth surface of the bar to steady herself. “Actually, I’m not.”
Three pairs of eyes turned to her.
“I’m Maggie. Marlie’s my sister.”
Stephanie leaned across the bar and popped her brother on his shoulder. “What’d you do? Grab the wrong sister?”
“I didn’t ‘grab’ anybody.” He pressed a finger to one temple.
“Marlie headache,” Maggie said.
He frowned, blue eyes narrowing. “What?”
“You look like you have a Marlie headache. My brother and I get them constantly.”
For several long seconds, her date just stared at her, then he surprised her by throwing his head back and laughing out loud.
“My sister gives me a headache, too.”
Stephanie put her hands on her hips. “I do not.”
Jason leaned against the bar. “I don’t know about that. I’ve seen you pop him on the head a few times. That would give me a headache.”
“It’s an attitude adjustment. That’s what big sisters do.”
Maggie laughed. “Maybe I should try that with Marlie.” She fished a pink candy heart out of the little paper cup. “I love these things. You’re early for Valentine’s Day.”
“They’re doing this candy hearts theme for New Year’s,” Shamus said.
“Here.” Stephanie set something pink and frothy in front of her.
“What’s this?”
“Strawberry lace. It’s light rum, strawberries, and coconut milk.”
“Who’s doing the honors?” Jason held up a dart.
“What honors?” Maggie felt as if she’d walked into the middle of a movie.
Her date sighed and reached for the dart. “Jason and Steph concocted this whole thing. We’re supposed to throw a dart at one of those paper hearts. Some of them have a prize on back.”
“Redeemable only on Valentine’s Day,” Jason added.
“Pink or red?” her date asked.
Maggie held her hand out for the dart. “Darts are my game.”
He grinned. “Mine, too.”
“He’s not kidding,” Jason said.
“Neither am I.”
Jason pulled a quarter from the tip jar. “You call it, Maggie.”
“Heads.”
He flipped the coin into the air, caught it, and slapped it down on the back of his left hand. “Sorry,” he said, holding his hand out for her to see the tail side of the quarter.
She shrugged and turned to her date. “Red.”
He threw the dart, hitting a red heart with the words ALL MINE dead center.
Maggie expected Steph to take the heart off the wall. Instead, she picked up a pen and wrote something on it.
“We’ll take the hearts down after midnight and read out the winners.”
Maggie struggled to read the names written on the red heart. The first letter was an S. She was too far away to make out the rest of it.
Her date held out his hand. “Care to dance?”
She let her hand slip into his. A warm tingle ran from her fingers to her belly.
She followed him to the dance floor, a tiny shiver of anticipation swimming through her veins when he pulled her into his arms. He was the perfect height for her, resting his chin on top of her head as their bodies moved in sync. They were so close she felt every shift of masculine muscle against the soft material of her dress. His body heat warmed her from the outside while a different type of heat burned from the inside out.
“Not that I’m complaining,” he said, “but how did you end up taking your sister’s place tonight?”
“Marlie’s off again/on again boyfriend called her at the last minute wanting to go clubbing. Like an idiot, she dropped everything and took off with him.”
He smiled, flashing a dimple. “Lucky me.”
“How did you get talked into a blind date?”
He shrugged. “Steph worried about me being alone on New Year’s Eve. It’s a big deal to her. She and Jason met on New Year’s Eve when they were fixed up by friends. They also got married on New Year’s Eve.”
“If you tell me their first born arrived on New Year’s Eve…”
He laughed. The lines at the corners of his eyes grew deeper.
“Actually, Harbor, their oldest daughter, was born on Easter Sunday.”
“Harbor,” she said softly. “Unusual name.”
“They named her after the band, Shallow Harbor.”
“That’s my favorite band.”
“So we share a lo
ve for the same game and the same band. You like hot wings?”
“The hotter the better and dipped in blue cheese.” She tipped her head back to look up at him. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“What is your name?”
****
An hour later, eating hot wings as they listened to the band play a love song, it crossed her mind that fate had a cruel sense of humor, bringing Shamus into her life just weeks before her wedding.
Her phone pinged. She pulled it out and checked the message.
How’s your date? Logan asked.
OK, she texted back.
Enjoy your evening. Happy New Year.
U 2
“Everything okay?” Shamus asked.
“Yeah, that was my sister,” she lied. What was she supposed to say? Oh, that’s just the man I’m getting ready to marry.
“Her boyfriend always picks her up in the lobby?” he asked.
A Marlie headache bounced off her temples. “Let’s just say the kind of men my sister goes out with don’t like to waste their energy walking up the stairs.”
A piercing whistle shot through the bar. “Listen up, folks,” Jason shouted.
“And we are thirty seconds from the New Year,” the TV announced.
Shamus stood in front of her, drawing her to her feet.
“Twenty seconds!”
His dark blue eyes appeared almost indigo in the soft light of the bar.
“Ten seconds!”
“Nine…eight…”
He cupped her face in his hands.
“Five…four…”
I can’t kiss him. I’m engaged.
As the old year closed and the new one began Shamus touched his lips to hers. The noise surrounding them faded.
The warmth of his callused hands framed her face. His rum and coke flavored kiss began with a tenderness that stole the breath from her lungs. As his kiss grew in intensity, the warm swirls that had danced in her blood all night grew as well, reaching a lava hot stage within seconds.
When Maggie was fifteen, her mother told her about the first time she kissed Maggie’s father. “Once in your life,” her mother said, “there’s a kiss that shatters everything you thought you knew and changes the direction of your life.”
She understood now. Maggie pressed her fingers to her lips in a fruitless attempt to hold onto the sweetest kiss of her life. Tears strangled her heart at the realization that it was also the most bitter since it could only mean farewell.