Rannigan's Redemption: Complete Collection

by Pandora Spocks

  Maggie hurried down the hall. Michael was lying on his side facing away from the door. “Sean Michael Rannigan!” she hissed. “You get your ass out of bed this instant!”

  He rolled onto his back and faced her. “I’m staying put,” he yawned sleepily. “Go and enjoy. Bobby’s a good guy. You could use a nice dinner with a nice man.”

  She gasped as realization dawned on her. “No way! You’re doing this on purpose?! Don’t you do this to me! Don’t you embarrass me like this!”

  “What embarrass? Two adults having dinner. What’s so hard about that?” he asked reasonably. “I overextended myself today. I’ll stay here and rest. You’ll go and have a great evening with a great guy, who likes you by the way.”

  Maggie stood staring at him wide-eyed. “You’re leaving your guest unattended. That’s kind of rude, Mags.”

  She nodded angrily. “This is so not the end of this conversation,” she said firmly and she turned to leave.

  “And Mags?” he called. “You’re welcome.”

  Chapter 28

  Maggie stopped in the hallway, pausing to take a few deep breaths as she attempted to calm her pulse into something resembling normal. She pasted on what she hoped was a relaxed smile and returned to Bobby in the living room.

  “Um, Michael apparently overextended himself today. I think he’s down for the night.”

  Bobby looked concerned. “Do you want me to leave? We can do this another time when he’s feeling better.”

  “God, no! The food’s already here,” Maggie exclaimed.

  Bobby smiled wryly. “Oh, shit, that came out all sorts of wrong. I’m just flustered because dinner tonight was his idea. I know he’s really grateful for your help. So am I, come to that.”

  She smiled, genuinely this time. “Let’s start again. Welcome.”

  Bobby grinned boyishly, his blue eyes sparkling. “Thanks. I’m happy to be here.” He handed her a glass of white wine and took one himself. “Here you go, cher.” He touched his glass to hers. “Sante.”

  Maggie giggled softly. I love when he does that, she thought, noticing that her nipples were of the same opinion as she felt them stretch to attention. She casually glanced down, hoping that they weren’t as apparent as they felt, only to see her peaks pointing like tiny sun dials.

  Flushing self-consciously, she turned away. “Come and relax,” she said.

  Maggie seemed nervous. Bobby wondered if going along with Michael’s plan had been a good idea. It seemed wrong to trick Maggie into having dinner with him. He recognized the skittishness in her soul, probably because he had the same in his own.

  Somewhere along the way, someone hurt you, cher. He could see it in her eyes. And he knew that since the day he’d cleaned and bandaged her knee, he wanted, no he needed, to take care of Maggie.

  He watched her settle on the huge leather couch and he sat beside her as they sipped their wine. The only sound filling the huge room was the light jazz that played quietly. Maggie fidgeted absently with the hem of her silver sequin skirt.

  “That’s a great skirt,” Bobby said. “You look very pretty tonight.” And she did. But closer to the truth was that the skirt was maddenly short and combined with the clingy grey sweater that did nothing to camouflage her tight perky nipples, she was more than pretty. She was sexy as hell.

  She blushed furiously. “I wasn’t sure what to wear. I mean, Michael said...” She stopped abruptly and looked up at him, eyes wide. “Oh, I owe you such a huge apology!”

  Bobby frowned at the unexpected turn in conversation. “What do you mean?”

  Maggie placed her wine on the coffee table and turned to face him. “Yesterday at the hospital I said some amazingly stupid, ignorant things, and I want to apologize.”

  Bobby grinned as he recalled the conversation. “I had no idea. When we got back here last night, the first thing Michael did was turn on the television and there you were. He told me that before you came to New York you played professional ball.”

  Maggie rolled her eyes. “When I think of the stupid things I said... Bobby, I am so sorry.”

  He chuckled heartily. “That was my favorite part of yesterday. You don’t need to apologize for a thing. You said exactly what you thought.”

  “Yes, but I never would have said all those things if I’d known,” she gushed. “You aren’t at all like the athletes I was talking about, by the way. Maybe I’ve just had bad experiences.”

  Bobby nodded, his blue eyes sparkling. “That would be my guess,” he said quietly.

  They chatted over the shrimp appetizers, making polite small talk. While Maggie took the chicken out of the warmer and brought it to the table in the solarium, Bobby removed his jacket, placing it over the back of the couch, and refilled their wine.

  Out in the solarium he and Maggie sat across from each other at the elegantly set table, the candles and twinkling lights from the terrace bathing the room in a soft romantic glow. They ate in silence for a few minutes appreciating the delicious dinner.

  Bobby was enjoying the dinner but nothing compared to simply watching Maggie. She was so pretty in a completely unaffected way, almost as if she was unaware of her beauty. He took in her petite frame with her delicious curves and wondered how she’d feel in his arms. His gaze drifted to her pale pink lips and he ached to taste them.

  Maggie glanced up to see Bobby smiling at her and her heart skipped a beat. She felt herself flush and to cover for it she said, “I’m so sorry I didn’t know who you were. I feel like a complete dumbass.”

  Bobby used his napkin to dab at his mouth and he leaned back in his chair. “I found it very refreshing, cher. I come across a lot of women who meet me on purpose. They’re interested in the famous ‘Beau’ Beaulieu.” He made air quotes with his fingers.

  Maggie frowned slightly. “You told me your name is Bobby.”

  “People started calling me Beau in high school. It stuck through college and into the pros. Only people who don’t know me call me that. My family and close friends call me Bobby.”

  She smiled at that revelation, happy to be in the minority. He smiled back at her. Maggie sipped her wine shyly.

  “Hell, even my ex-wife calls me Beau. When she’s not calling me something less civilized. Of course, we met at the stadium. I should have known better,” he grinned sadly.

  “You were married, then,” Maggie said.

  Bobby nodded. “Yep, I was for a few years.” He sipped his wine. “A marriage can’t really survive infidelity, at least in my experience.”

  “Wow,” she said thoughtfully. “I suppose that being on the road weeks at a time, tons of women throwing themselves at you... That must present a lot of temptation.”

  Amusement twinkled in his eyes. “Is that what you think? That I cheated on her?” He laughed lightly. “I came home off the road to find her in bed with the rookie we’d just drafted.” He nodded at Maggie’s amazed look. “Yep, she traded me in on a newer model.”

  Maggie flushed deep red. “Once again, I open my mouth and jump right in with both feet. I am so terribly sorry for being such a sexist, for assuming...” She shook her head. “Please forgive me.”

  “Your mouth is very endearing, cher,” he laughed. “There’s no need to apologize, it was a natural assumption. To be sure, in my younger days I took advantage of the chick buffet we found everywhere we went,” he smiled ruefully.

  “Chick buffet?” Maggie laughed.

  “Ah, yes, the veritable smorgasbord of warm and willing women who are attracted to guys who get in the papers every once in a while. But when I married Deanna it was for keeps as far as I was concerned.” He smiled sadly. “She was in it until the next thing came along.” Bobby sighed.

  “I’m so sorry, Bobby,” Maggie said quietly. “That must have been rough.”

  “Yeah, my confidence took a real hit. I don’t regret it though, being married. My daughter is the light of my life.”

  “Your daughter?” Maggie’s eyes widened. Bobby has a kid?


  Bobby watched her carefully. “Is it a bad thing that I’m a dad?”

  “No, of course not, it’s great. It’s just...I never even thought about it,” Maggie shrugged.

  “Would you like to see a picture?”

  “Yes, please,” she nodded.

  Bobby took out his phone and scrolled for a moment. “This is me and Savannah right before I left Arlington. We went to the zoo.” He passed the phone to Maggie and she saw Bobby with a smiling little girl with blonde hair and huge blue eyes.

  She smiled too. “She’s adorable. Savannah?” Bobby nodded. “A beautiful name. How old is she?”

  He smiled proudly. “Just turned five. She’s a hot mess, is what she is. That was a good day.”

  Maggie passed back the phone. “She has your eyes,” she observed quietly.

  “How about you?” he asked. “Any kids or former spouses?”

  “None that I know of,” she quipped, laughing. “Kids? Not even close. I was engaged briefly.” Bobby watched a frown flit across her face.

  “What happened?” he asked.

  Maggie sighed. “I realized I didn’t love him,” she said, glancing up at Bobby suddenly. “It sounds bad, I know. But I never did love him.” She stalled, sipping her wine. Bobby waited quietly for her to continue. “He was...not very nice, actually.”

  Bobby’s eyes narrowed. “Did he hurt you, cher?” He could feel his protective nature kicking into overdrive.

  She shook her head. “God, no, he never put a hand on me or anything. He just...” she looked out into the night, “he said things that made me doubt myself.” She looked at him, gauging whether to say more. Bobby returned her gaze, his clear blue eyes filled with compassion. “He said...not nice things,” her voice almost a whisper.

  “Son of a bitch,” Bobby muttered under his breath.

  “So you met his mother,” Maggie said to lighten the mood, and they both quietly laughed.

  Chapter 29

  They lingered over the meal, chatting quietly and laughing frequently. Eventually, Maggie rose and began to collect their plates. “Let me get these out of our way. There’s a delicious dessert waiting.” Bobby quickly jumped up to help. “It’s okay, I’ve got this,” Maggie told him.

  “No, ma’am,” he grinned, shaking his head. “My mama raised me right. She’d tan my hide if I didn’t help out.”

  Maggie laughed and led the way into the kitchen with Bobby following along behind. They placed the dishes in the sink and Maggie began rinsing them, handing them to Bobby who stacked them in the dishwasher.

  “Division of labor,” he quipped, grinning.

  As they worked together, Maggie was aware of his decidedly masculine air, of his strong forearms showing below his rolled up sleeves, the mixture of spice and musk of his cologne. She could feel the heat beginning to build deep within her soul.

  “Did you always want to play baseball?” Maggie asked as she handed him a plate, attempting to distract herself from her more primal thoughts.

  Bobby looked thoughtful. “Always. Since I played my first Little League game I knew that baseball was what I wanted to do.” Maggie could see the passion in his eyes. “As I went along I discovered that I had a knack for it. Hell, a baseball scholarship paid for my degree. My daddy worked on off-shore oil rigs. Until he got hurt. Mama’s a teacher. We never had money for extras like college. Coming up, we never realized that we didn’t have much. We were always laughing and having fun.”

  He flashed her the lop-sided grin. “I got drafted out of college, signed a contract for more money than I’d ever even thought about. But the best moment was the first time I stepped onto the mound as a pro. The crowd was deafening. It was just...surreal. I realized that I was living my dream.”

  He leaned back against the counter, casually resting his palms on the edge at his side. “How about you, cher? Did you always want to be a lawyer?”

  Maggie smiled wryly as she dried her hands on a dish towel. “Nope. I wanted to be Joan Jett.”

  She grinned and he laughed heartily. “Joan Jett. You wanted to be a bad-ass rocker?”

  “Well, yeah, who wouldn’t?” she asked. “The closest I got is singing karaoke. I’m not too bad, actually.” She smiled up at him. “Do you like karaoke?”

  “Listening to it. I don’t sing,” he said shaking his head.

  “Why not?” she wondered.

  “Get up in front of all those strangers and sing? No thanks!”

  “You can get up in front of all those strangers and throw a ball but you won’t sing?”

  “No way, no how,” he said definitely. “I’d love to see you do it, though.”

  Maggie smiled. “Truthfully, it takes a certain amount of alcohol to make that happen. I go out sometimes with my friends Ben and Nate, usually when they think I’m neglecting my social life. They’re sort of my guardians of fun. There’s nothing like belting out I Hate Myself for Loving You in front of a hundred and fifty gay men.”

  She removed Greek pastries from a bag and arranged them carefully on a plate. “To tell the truth, it’s a blast. You should go sometime.” She glanced up suddenly, realizing that she had, in effect, asked him out.

  Bobby was grinning at her again. “I might just do that.”

  They returned to the living room and Maggie put the plate on the coffee table. Bobby was right behind her. “Look, cher, it’s snowing.”

  She looked toward the floor to ceiling windows and saw large snowflakes swirling in the night.

  “Let’s go look.” Bobby slid open the door leading from the solarium to the terrace and they both stepped outside. A cold wind whipped around the building and the flakes whirled and fluttered, beginning to coat everything in sight.

  Maggie followed Bobby to the edge of the terrace and they looked down at the snowy scene below. She shivered slightly. “It’s cold out here,” he said, quickly returning to the living room to retrieve his jacket. Gently, he placed it around her shoulders. “I should have thought...”

  Maggie looked up at him, snowflakes catching in her eyelashes. “I’m okay,” she smiled.

  Bobby held the lapels of his jacket and pulled her closer. His eyes sparkled. “You know, I’ve been looking at those lips all night, wondering how they taste.”

  She gave him an impish grin. “I thought baseball players were all about stealing bases.”

  Bobby threw back his head and laughed. “You can’t steal first, cher, it has to be earned.”

  Maggie considered this thoughtfully. “You patched up my knee. You fixed my shoe. And you helped Michael when he was in trouble. To top it off, you helped with the dishes.” She nodded. “Could be you’ve earned it.”

  “Have I?” She nodded again peering deeply into his eyes.

  Bobby smiled. “This is gonna be good,” he said softly. He cupped her cheek with his right hand, lightly running his thumb across her lips, then he leaned down, gently placing his lips on hers.

  Maggie felt the heat building as his kiss grew in intensity. He moved his hand to the small of her back and pulled her even closer, his lips devouring hers as she responded, rising on her toes to meet him there in the snow.

  When he broke off, she gasped lightly. He chuckled and nodded. “Yep, just like strawberry wine.”

  “Strawberry wine?”

  “You know,” he said, grinning. “Boone’s Farm? As teenagers we’d steal it out of the liquor cabinet and sneak out to the boondocks. Lie in the bed of a pickup truck and make love out under the stars.”

  Maggie shook her head and laughed. “No, I guess I never did that.”

  “Strawberry wine. It tastes like summer and passion and innocence.” Bobby gazed steadily into her eyes. “Like you, cher.”

  Wide-eyed, she stared back at him. He gave his lop-sided grin, but his eyes were all heat as he lowered his lips to hers again. Tongues explored and tangled before he moved to place delicate kisses along her jaw line then lightly nip down the side of her neck. Maggie closed her eyes and
sighed softly as his hand drifted under her sweater and up her side until he was cupping her left breast.

  “And Beaulieu steals second,” he murmured against her neck, taking her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, giving it a gentle tug. She giggled softly and found his lips again.

  Hand in hand, they made their way back into the apartment, brushing the snow out of their hair. Bobby glanced at his watch. “It’s late. I have to fly to Arizona in the morning. My flight leaves at 6:45.”

  Maggie checked the clock on the wall. It was after 2:00. “Oh my God, I had no idea it was so late.”

  “Are you staying here tonight?” he asked her.

  She shook her head. “No, no way. I had planned to take the subway home. I’ll just take a cab.”

  “Let me drive you home.”

  “You leave in four hours and you haven’t been to bed yet,” she answered.

  “I won’t sleep not knowing for sure that you got home safely,” he said reasonably. “Give me five minutes and meet me in front?”

  Maggie hesitated for a moment, wringing her hands in indecision. His soft smile pushed her over the edge. “Alright,” she smiled. “I’ll just shut down things up here.”

  Bobby left to bring the Range Rover around. Maggie returned to the terrace to unplug the lights, pausing to blow out the candles on the table in the solarium.

  “How’d it go?”

  She jumped. “Holy shit, Michael, you startled me!”

  Michael grinned apologetically. “Didn’t mean to, I just wondered how dinner went.”

  “It went fine. Bobby’s going to drive me home. He went to get his car.”

  He frowned. “Only fine?”

  Maggie rolled her eyes. “It was very nice. Were you listening the whole time?”

  “Well, not the whole time.”

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake!”

  “I’m kidding. I slept most of the time. I just woke up and was feeling hungry.” It was mainly true. He had slept for hours. But voices on the terrace had awakened him and he’d peered through the sheer curtains of his bedroom to see Bobby and Maggie kissing passionately.