“You can open your eyes now.” Amusement shaded his voice.
She grabbed his wet clothes off the floor and carried them to her kitchen where she tossed them into the dryer that sat against one wall.
“It shouldn’t take long,” she said, trying not to look at the skin showing despite the comforter he’d wrapped around himself.
“I can think of at least one way we could pass the time,” he teased. “And I happen to be conveniently naked under this blanket.”
She shook her head. “I…I can’t—”
“It’s okay.” He leaned forward to kiss her. “You can’t blame a guy for trying.”
“I could make some hot chocolate.” She moved away from him and tugged open a cabinet.
She jumped when something scraped across the floor. Turning, she found Shamus settling in at her kitchen table.
She put a kettle on the stove, poured cocoa mix into two mugs, and sat down across from him.
“You don’t have to be so jumpy,” he said. “I’m not going to leap across the table at you.”
“I know, it’s just this whole thing.” She made a circular motion with her hand, trying to find the right words. Now would be the time to tell him about Logan.
The quilt had slipped to his waist, leaving that gorgeous chest bare and all too distracting. Warmth flushed her face. Here she was, just weeks from turning thirty and feeling like a sixteen-year-old virgin.
They talked until the dryer went off. Maggie gathered his clothes and turned her back while he stood in the middle of her kitchen and dressed. Was his backside as magnificent as his chest?
His arms slid around her, and he nuzzled her neck.
“I’m going to go,” he said, his breath warm and light against her ear. “Before I try to talk you into something you’re not ready for.”
****
Maggie paused next to her bed, skimming through the pictures she had taken that night. The light from the candelabra lamppost glittered on the snow while shadows filled the snow angels she and Shamus made.
She smiled. His playfulness delighted her, bringing thoughts of a long ago conversation with her mother to mind.
“When did you fall in love with Dad?” Maggie had asked her mother, just weeks before her parents were killed.
Her mother looked up at the ceiling, a sweet smile of remembrance curling her lips. “When we were first dating. It was right before Christmas. The two of us got into a snowball fight and, afterward, we made snow angels. I realized then that I was seeing a part of Rick he never allowed others to see. And that was when I fell in love.”
Maggie picked up Robin Hood and held him close, imaging she could smell Shamus’s cologne on the stuffed cat’s fur.
Her heart called out for Shamus, but the thought of her brother, injured and helpless, was the one that bound her.
Chapter Five
“Hey, sis.” Marc grinned at her from the hospital bed. “What are you doing here?”
“I thought I’d take a vacation day and come see you.” She sat in the chair next to him and started pulling books from the bag she carried, stacking them on his nightstand.
“Thanks.”
“Hope you haven’t read them.”
“If I have, I’ll read them again.”
“Has your lawyer heard anything from McAllister’s lawyer?”
If the man who ran a light and struck her brother’s bike would settle out of court instead of dragging things on for years, maybe she wouldn’t need to marry Logan.
Marc’s grin faded. She wished she hadn’t brought it up.
“Not going too well. He said it could take years to settle. My share of the medical bills alone is over two hundred thousand. I don’t know when I’m going to be able to work again.” He slapped the rail of the hospital bed. “I can’t sit up straight for more than twenty minutes at a time. How am I supposed to work? How the hell am I supposed to go to a construction site to check on progress?”
Marc was an architect. He went to the sites beforehand to get a feel for the location and checked in at the sites often to be certain his plans were being carried out the way he envisioned, and to make any necessary adjustments.
“Don’t think about anything but getting back on your feet. I’ll worry about the rest.”
He took a deep breath and nodded. “You should be fussing over your own family at this point—a husband, kids—not taking care of your younger siblings.”
“Will you stop worrying about me? You’re the one in the hospital.”
She thought for a minute that he’d argue, but instead he shook his head and motioned to the nightstand.
“Open the bottom drawer. There’s a little box wrapped in gold foil.”
She pulled it out and started to hand it to him.
“No, it’s yours. I bought it before the accident. I was going to give it to you for Christmas. But since I was here for Christmas.” He shrugged. “My friends brought it when they packed up my apartment.”
She opened the small box and took out a ring. The gold band was delicate, etched with forget-me-nots. Two tiny hands held a heart-shaped amethyst. A crown with three diamond chips rested above the heart.
“It’s a Claddagh.” She traced the purple stone with one fingertip.
“I thought it was an amethyst.”
She nodded. “The stone is. The Claddagh is an Irish wedding ring. The hands represent friendship, the heart is love, and the crown is loyalty.”
Marc laughed. “I saw it in a pawn shop, and I knew it was your birthstone. I guess you can wear it on your wedding day.” A sly smile curved his lips. “Speaking of wedding days…tell me about this guy you’re seeing.”
“Since when are you into gossip?”
“Since it involves my big sister and since I have nothing better to do with my time.”
Had Marlie told him she was going to marry Logan? She’d sworn her sister to secrecy.
“Come on, Maggie. All I know is you went out with him on New Year’s Eve. Are you still seeing him?”
Shamus then, not Logan.
“I’ve seen him a few times.”
“What’s he do?”
“Carpenter.”
“You’ve been seeing him for three weeks. Talk.”
The words poured out. With each one, a single thought reverberated in her mind. How was she supposed to let him go? How could she not?
Each time she saw Shamus, her head urged her to tell him they couldn’t keep seeing each other—and each time, her heart pleaded for one more day with him.
****
Shamus took a break from the section of stairs he was replacing, stood, pressed his hands against his lower back, and stretched.
“Oh, this is gorgeous,” Mrs. Carmichael, the owner of the jewelry store, said.
Shamus glanced over.
She held up a ring. She smiled at him and shrugged. “My husband picked up some new pieces yesterday. This is the first I’ve gotten a good look at them.” She showed him the ring. “Isn’t it beautiful? Filigree design, sapphires and amethysts.”
“My girlfriend’s birth stone is amethyst.”
“You know, the ancient Egyptians believed the amethyst helped guard against feelings of guilt and fear.”
“I didn’t know that. I don’t think Maggie has anything to feel guilty for.”
“Tell me about your lady friend,” she said as she returned the ring to the case.
He talked. Mrs. Carmichael listened, offering an occasional comment, asking a question now and then.
“If I had to guess, I’d say you’re very serious about her.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She took another ring out of the case. “Now this would make a beautiful engagement ring. Diamond, just over a third of a carat, framed by two small amethysts. All it would take to make it perfect is your name and hers engraved inside.”
It shocked him how easy it was to imagine sliding that ring onto Maggie’s finger, how right it felt to think about spe
aking the words that would bind their lives forever.
Mrs. Carmichael smiled. “I like you, Shamus. I’d be willing to make you a very good deal on this ring. I’ll even throw in the engraving.”
“We haven’t been dating that long.”
“It doesn’t take long to know if it’s the right person. Can you see yourself spending the rest of your life with her? Does the thought of having coffee with her every morning make you happy? Can you imagine still being in love with her thirty years from now when her hair is gray and her face is lined?”
He had dated Paris for a year and never felt any desire to make a lifelong commitment. With Maggie, he could imagine making that promise, building a life together, watching their children grow.
They’d only known each other for a few weeks, it was far too soon to think in terms of marriage, wasn’t it? And yet the thought was there, growing more consuming by the moment.
He pulled his wallet from his back pocket and took out his credit card.
The words on the paper heart now seemed like a prophecy. ALL MINE: Maggie, and one day in the distant future, a child or two.
He’d propose on Valentine’s Day, while they drank the cocktails they had won on New Year’s Eve. The place where they’d had their first date would be the ideal location. The amethyst was the perfect ring. Now all he needed was a way to propose, one that would take her by surprise.
****
Maggie stepped into the living room, still towel drying her hair, and let out a shriek.
Marlie jumped, one hand flung over her chest. “Give me a heart attack.”
Maggie, dressed in a black bra and panties, held the towel against her chest. “I’m the one who walked out here half-naked to find someone standing in my living room.”
“I have a key.”
“To feed Cinnamon when I’m out of town, not to scare me half-to-death.”
“You look alive to me.” She scooped Cinnamon from the back of the couch and rubbed her chin against his head. “I brought you something.”
“If it’s another belly button ring, my navel is still not pierced.”
“It’s a bridal magazine. If you’re still planning to go through with marriage to Logan, the least you can do is make it a good wedding. I folded one page and marked it with a sticky note. It has a gown that would be perfect for you. Have you picked your colors yet?”
“Colors?”
Marlie groaned. “You know, flowers, bridesmaids’ dresses.”
Maggie dropped the towel and slipped on her robe that was laying across the back of the sofa. “Marlie, we’re getting married by the justice of the peace.”
“You can’t do that! A wedding is your chance to shine, even if you are marrying an old man.”
She didn’t want to think about Logan. She didn’t want to think about marriage. What had seemed the perfect solution to Marc’s situation just two months ago now felt all wrong.
And Shamus? Heaven help her, what was she supposed to do about him?
Shamus! He’d be here in a few minutes. She had to get rid of Marlie.
She put a hand on her sister’s shoulder. “Thank you for stopping by. It was nice of you to bring the magazine, but I really don’t need it.” She scooped it off the table. “Why don’t you look through it? You can start planning your own wedding.”
“You okay?”
“I’m fine, I’m just really busy and—” The doorbell rang. “Damn it.”
“Relax. I’ll get the door.”
Maggie grabbed her arm. “Don’t you dare tell him about Logan.”
“Tell who?” Marlie’s eyes grew wide. “You have a date? With another man?”
“Not one word. I’m going to tell him.” If she could just bring herself to do it.
****
Shamus was surprised to see Maggie’s younger sister, Marlie. The blonde grinned and waved at him. “Remember me?”
“I remember,” he said.
He smiled at Maggie, motioning to the dark purple robe she wore. “I like it. If we were ordering pizza it’d be perfect.”
Her cheeks flooded with color. “I was getting ready when Marlie came over.”
She turned a glare on her younger sibling. “Don’t make me hurt you.”
“Go get dressed. I’ll keep Shamus company.” Her sister’s eyes sparkled with suppressed humor.
She leaned forward and snatched the magazine Maggie had been holding. “I’ll take that.”
She watched until Maggie left the room then tossed the magazine on the coffee table.
“I’m going to get a soda. You want one?”
“No thanks.”
Shamus picked the magazine up off the table and started flipping through it, stopping at a page marked by a bright pink sticky note. Wedding gowns? Were he and Maggie thinking along the same lines?
“Isn’t it beautiful?” Marlie walked back into the living room with a can of soda.
“It’s a wedding dress.”
“Well, duh. That’s what women usually get married in.”
“You’re getting married?”
“Why else would I have a bride magazine, silly. The announcement was in the paper right before Christmas.”
The bedroom door opened.
“Bye, Maggie,” Marlie yelled. “Have fun.”
She cast a smile at Shamus, then headed out the door.
****
“I remember coming here with my mother,” Maggie said as Shamus pulled out the chair for her. “They have a lemon and almond biscotti that my mother was crazy about.”
“Not a biscotti fan.” He sat across from her and reached for her hand.
There were those crazy little zings again.
They gave their drink orders to the waitress.
Shamus swiped his thumb across her palm. “The past few weeks have been…amazing.”
She swallowed past the lump in her throat and nodded.
“Valentine’s is just a couple of weeks away. We have drinks to collect at The Roost, not to mention candy hearts, but I thought you might want to go to a nice restaurant for—”
Her cell phone rang. Her sister most likely. She pulled the phone from her purse and started to hit dismiss, until she saw Logan’s picture.
“I have to answer this,” she said. Shamus nodded and reached for the glass of water.
“Hello?”
“Hello, princess,” Logan said, his British accent, normally faded after decades in the states, was revived by his trip to London.
“I’ll be home later tonight.”
“That’s wonderful.” She tried to force an enthusiasm she didn’t feel. She’d have this last evening with Shamus, then she would have to find a way to tell him the truth.
“Could you stop by tomorrow?” Logan asked. “I need to talk to you.”
“Of course.” She said goodbye and slipped the phone back into her purse.
“Your sister?”
“No. A friend just got back from England.”
“You don’t sound all that happy.”
She wrapped her hands around her coffee cup, letting the warm ceramic ease the chill in her fingers.
“Long story.” This is the time to tell him. Another thought followed the first. This is my last night with him. I won’t let anything spoil it.
Chapter Six
Maggie settled on the couch next to Logan, resting her head against his shoulder. His arm slipped around her, familiar and comforting.
“Marlie tells me you’ve been out with your New Year’s Eve date recently.”
“Marlie should mind her own business.”
His shoulder moved beneath her as he laughed. “Don’t be mad at her. She loves you, and she can’t understand why you would want to marry an old man.”
“You’re not old.”
“Sixty is twice your age.”
Her time with Logan was usually comfortable. They watched old movies and talked, sometimes until the early hours of the morning. Tonight she sensed a distance in
him, a tension that was both unusual and discomforting.
“I know something’s wrong,” she said.
Logan leaned his head against the back of the couch. “Do you now?”
“Yes. Are you going to tell me what? We’ll be married in three weeks. Husbands and wives are supposed to share the load.”
He straightened, dislodging her from her comfortable position. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, hands clasped.
“When I was in London I ran into Rose.”
“Rose,” she repeated, trying to place the name.
“The one I let get away.”
His expression was ice water on her peace of mind.
“And you still love her.”
He nodded, his blue eyes dark with guilt and a plea for understanding. They weren’t married yet, so he was free to return to his lost love. Logan breaking their engagement would leave her free to pursue Shamus. It would also leave her brother without the help he desperately needed.
“I know you need the money for Marc, and I wouldn’t hurt either of you for the world. The three of you are family to me. I promised your father I would look after you and Marlie and Marc if he wasn’t there to do it.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I can talk to Rose. Explain the situation to her.”
Logan would do it, sacrifice his own happiness with the love of his youth, in order to make it possible for her to help Marc. And if she let him do that, it would stand between them.
She reached for his hand and he let her take it, wrapping his fingers around hers.
“You have always been there for me,” she said. “I’ve been so wrapped up in what to do about Marc that I forgot you have a life away from us.”
“Maggie—”
“It’s okay. I’ll figure something out.” She forced a smile. “I remember you telling me about her. Rose is the one who wanted to marry, but you weren’t ready.”
“By the time I came to my senses and realized what a wonderful woman I had, it was too late. She’d married someone else. He passed away three years ago.”
She stood, letting his hand slip from hers. “Don’t let her get away again.”
All Mine Page 3
