Escape With Me

by Kristen Proby

“None of those things will happen.”

  “And thank Christ for it.”

  Chapter 5

  ~Keegan~

  Now that I’ve started kissing her, I never want to stop. I didn’t lie before. It was hell staying away from her all these weeks, telling myself that helping her out was enough.

  But it wasn’t nearly enough.

  Listening to her laugh, watching her silly dance when she’s eating something delicious, and being near her all the time, day in and day out, slowly killed me inside. I thought it would be easier on me when she moved in with Maggie. That I might start to lose interest. Out of sight, out of mind and all that.

  I was wrong. I’ve missed having her in the flat, and I still see her almost every day. There is no out of sight, out of mind.

  And tonight, when she stood in my pub and was strong enough to stand up to her mother, it only intensified my attraction to her.

  No, she has nothing at all to be embarrassed about.

  “I guess we should go back to work,” she murmurs. For the first time in as long as I can remember, work is the last thing on my mind.

  But she’s right. I have a pub full of customers to see to.

  “Before we go,”—I brush my knuckles down her soft cheek—“I’d like to take you out. On a real date. Tomorrow.”

  “I happen to have tomorrow night off,” she says. “But you—”

  “My da’s in town, remember? He’ll love nothing more than to be in charge for an evening.”

  “Well then, you have yourself a date.”

  She grins, and I can’t help myself. I kiss her again, softer and gentler this time until my brain buzzes, and my cock gets hard.

  “Spaghetti,” I whisper.

  “Are you hungry?” she asks.

  “I need to think of things to calm down before I say fuck the pub and carry you into my bedroom to have my way with you.”

  Her blue eyes dance with awareness. “I like spaghetti. I think tacos are my favorite, though.”

  “Hard or soft shell?”

  “Hard.” She grins. “With extra cilantro.”

  “I hate cilantro. It tastes like soap.”

  “Oh, you’re one of those unfortunate souls with weird tastebuds.”

  I chuckle and shake my head. “Come on. We have work to do. Unless you’d rather go home for the night.”

  “No.” She squares her shoulders. “Like you said, we have work to do. My mother doesn’t have the privilege of interfering in my life anymore.”

  I follow her down to the pub, relieved when no one stands to make a big deal out of the earlier scene. We easily slip back into our roles, me pulling taps, and Izzy seeing to her tables. My da offers me a wink as he pulls the handle for the Guinness.

  “Everything okay, then?”

  “It is.”

  And that’s all that’s said about it for the rest of the evening.

  “Good morning, my love,” Ma says as she and Da walk into the pub the next morning. Despite a long workday yesterday, they’re both fresh as can be and look ready to start another busy day.

  “And a good morning to you.” I kiss Ma’s cheek and then hug my father. “You do know that you don’t have to come in every single day. You can enjoy your time here on the island without working it away.”

  “We enjoy it,” Ma replies. “And I want to get a batch of apple muffins into the oven this morning for you.”

  “I don’t want you to work too hard.”

  She pats my cheek and then saunters off to the kitchen. “Don’t you worry about me, Keegan. I’m doing exactly what I want to do.”

  “And she always does,” Da says with a smile as he watches her walk away. “I’m going to Shawn’s in a bit to help him with a project at the house. But your mother wanted to come in and get some baking done and start on the stew and meat pies.”

  “There’s nothing like having Ma in the kitchen,” I admit. “Maggie’s wonderful, and her stew is delicious, but it isn’t the same. Don’t ever tell her I said that.”

  Da laughs and pats me on the shoulder. “I understand your meaning, son. Fiona has a way with food. I think it’s the love she pours into it. She’s been looking forward to being here for weeks, just so she can spend her days back there. But don’t worry, I’m keeping an eye on her. If I think she’s overextending herself, I’ll say so.”

  “I know. And now I’ll sound like a hypocrite because I need to ask you a favor.”

  “Anything, if it’s in my power. You know that.”

  “I need you to cover the bar for me tonight.”

  His brow furrows in surprise. “Is everything okay?”

  “Yes, everything’s fine. I’m just taking Izzy out on a date.”

  His brows climb. “I’m sorry, am I speaking with Keegan O’Callaghan? My second eldest son?”

  I laugh and reach for a bottle of orange juice, then pour myself a glass. “One and the same, yes.”

  “This is unusual for you.”

  “If you’d rather not cover the shift, I can ask Shawn to do it.”

  “I didn’t say that, did I?” He crosses his arms and watches me. “I like her.”

  I take a sip of juice. “I do, too.”

  “She has a backbone and an honest face. And she’s kind.”

  “She is those things,” I agree. “But don’t go marrying us off quite yet, old man. This is just a date.”

  “If you’re taking the evening away from the pub to court her, I’d say it’s not just anything at all. But I’ll mind my own. Your mother likes her, too, in case you were wondering.”

  “Ma likes everyone.”

  “Oh, she had some choice words to say last night about Izzy’s ma, I’ll tell you that. And, no, she doesn’t like everyone when it comes to her children. She really didn’t like that girl you dated in high school. What was her name?”

  “You know her name was Amber. And, yes, I remember that Ma didn’t like her.”

  “Do you have something special planned for tonight?”

  “Dinner. The weather’s been nice, so maybe a picnic.”

  “Well, enjoy yourself.”

  “You’re not going to tell me that it’s a bad idea to date an employee?”

  He shakes his head. “I was married to my employee the entire time I ran this business, and we did just fine. You’re a smart man with a good head on his shoulders.”

  I can smell the apple muffins baking in the kitchen, and my stomach growls.

  “Are you going to stay for muffins?”

  “Of course. Let’s go see how much longer they have to bake.”

  I haven’t been nervous about picking up a date since I was in high school. And if anyone asked, I’d say I’m not nervous now. That’s just ridiculous.

  I rub my hands down my jeans’ legs after I cut the truck’s engine and take a deep breath. The flowers on the seat next to me are fresh and smell great as I pick them up and get out of the vehicle to walk up to Maggie’s door.

  Someone flings it open before I can knock, and my baby sister stands before me with a smug grin on her lips.

  “For me? You shouldn’t have.”

  “You’re a pain in my arse.”

  “I’ve been doing the Lord’s work since 1994.” She winks and opens the door wide so I can step inside. Izzy is just making her way down the stairs.

  My tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth.

  Thank Christ she doesn’t wear this sort of outfit at the pub. I’d never be able to hold a conversation with a customer or remember an order again.

  She’s in a simple summer dress, but it’s red, has the tiniest hint of straps on her shoulders, and flows to mid-thigh.

  My fingers itch to brush her skin there, and under the skirt, leading to the glories that lie beneath.

  “He’s speechless,” Maggie says with a laugh. “That doesn’t happen often.”

  “And that’s the truth of it,” I agree without any embarrassment at all. “I brought these for you.”

 
“Oh, how pretty. Thank you.” Izzy buries her nose in the pink roses and sniffs them delicately. “I’ll just put them in some water.”

  “I can do that,” Maggie interrupts. “You two go have fun. I won’t even tease Keegan anymore.”

  “I don’t believe that.”

  “Well, anymore today,” she amends and disappears into the kitchen with Izzy’s flowers.

  “Shall we go?” I hold out my hand for Izzy’s.

  “Absolutely.” She slips her hand into mine. I lead her out to the truck and open the door for her. Within just a few minutes, we’re driving away from Maggie’s house. “It smells really good in here.”

  “I brought dinner with me. I hope you’re hungry.”

  “Starving.”

  “You look beautiful.”

  She turns that bright smile on me, and I feel my breath catch. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, no woman has ever tied me up in knots like this one does.

  I pull into a parking space and turn to Izzy. “Wait for me.”

  “Okay.”

  I hop out of the truck, retrieve the basket from the backseat, and then circle the hood to open the door for my date.

  “This is a gorgeous spot,” she says as I help her down and lead her over the grass toward the cliffs that look out over the Pacific Ocean.

  “It’s a place I come to when I need to clear my head,” I admit and set the basket on a picnic table. “Lucky for us the breeze isn’t too bad today.”

  “I’ve noticed it gets pretty windy here,” she observes and sits on the bench across from me. “It’s because of the ocean.”

  “It is, yes. And in the winter, it can cut right through you. But it’s a lovely day today, and I thought we could enjoy the fresh air—and your tacos.”

  “Tacos?” She claps her hands and dances in her seat.

  “That’s right, and I brought some extra cilantro for you.”

  “You know, I do enjoy a man who pays attention.” She rests her chin in her hand and watches me unpack the basket with a soft smile on her lovely face. “It’s a trait that’s rarer than you’d expect.”

  “If you want to get to know someone, it’s best to listen when they speak.” I pour two margaritas into plastic glasses and set one in front of her. “I’m sorry, I can’t rim the glass with salt.”

  “Oh, this will do nicely, thank you. I didn’t think you made margaritas.”

  “I don’t serve them at the pub, no, but I know how to make them.” I wink and take a sip of the sweet drink, then pull out a bag of chips and sides of salsa, queso, and guacamole. “Let’s start with the appetizer, shall we?”

  “These are fresh chips. Not store-bought,” Izzy says in awe as she takes one, along with a big scoop of queso and takes a bite. “Where did you find this?”

  “I know the owner of the Mexican restaurant in town.” I eat a chip myself and nod in satisfaction. “He set us up for dinner.”

  “This is seriously delicious. I might have a cheese problem.”

  “Are you lactose intolerant?”

  “No, as in I’m addicted to cheese. I’m quite sure it was invented just for me.”

  “Cheese is delicious.”

  “What’s your favorite food?” she asks.

  “I suppose pizza. I know that sounds boring, but when I was growing up, pizza was for special occasions, not something eaten on a regular basis. In fact, we didn’t eat out much at all because Ma loves to cook and fed us all so much.”

  “Well, you know I love pizza, too. I guess I just love junk food. It’s no wonder I can’t get rid of the curves.”

  “And what’s wrong with your curves, Isabella?”

  She blinks at me and then shrugs a shoulder as she looks down at the chip in her hand. “Nothing, I suppose.”

  “Did someone tell you that you shouldn’t have curves?”

  “Look, I don’t like talking about my ex because I’m on a date with you, and it’s kind of rude, but yeah. He reminded me almost daily that I shouldn’t eat whatever was in my hand at the time and that I needed to get to the gym.”

  I shift in my seat, utterly pissed at the man she almost married. “I think you should eat whatever pleases you, as long as you throw a stalk of broccoli or a carrot in there once in a while. And you get plenty of exercise in your job. I like your curves, love.”

  Her cheeks darken, and she narrows her eyes at me. “Thanks. I used to just tell him that I’m a girl, and if he didn’t like curves, he was batting for the wrong team.”

  I can’t help myself. I laugh out loud, absolutely delighted with her. “And that’s the truth if I’ve ever heard it. I like your sass, Isabella.”

  “Well, that’s good because it’s not going anywhere.” She sighs, and I can see she’s ready for the entrée, so I reach into the basket and pull out a half-dozen tacos and some chicken fajitas.

  “This is a lot of food.”

  “I didn’t know which you’d like better, so I just got a little of each.”

  “That’s a lot of each, but I’m not complaining.” She reaches for a taco and takes a bite. “Jesus, I just found my new favorite restaurant.”

  “I’ll take you in there sometime. Javier is a master in the kitchen.”

  “Obviously.” She takes another bite. “So, what were you like as a kid?”

  “In what sense?”

  “Were you shy? Nerdy? A jock?”

  I laugh and pile some chicken onto a tortilla. “I guess I was a nerdy jock. I liked sports a lot. Mostly baseball and basketball, although I also played football in high school.”

  “Definitely a jock.”

  “But I also like to read, and I did well in school.”

  “A well-rounded kid, then.”

  “I guess so. What about you?”

  “I definitely wasn’t shy. I was the social butterfly. I had lots of friends, but no super-close friends. Does that make sense?”

  “Yes.”

  “And I was totally a cheerleader. I know most people make fun of girls who cheer, but I have to tell you, it was hard work.”

  “I don’t make fun of it,” I reply.

  “And then I went to college and wanted to be a meteorologist on television.”

  I take a sip of my margarita. “I remember you saying that before. So, you wanted to be a weather girl?”

  “More than anything. Still do, actually. I love the weather. I study it still and keep track of what’s going on and where. It’s actually quite interesting.”

  “So, why don’t you do that, then?”

  “Because my parents wanted me to work for the family business. Because of that, I had to minor in business in college. As soon as I finished, I started working at my dad’s office. It was soul-sucking.”

  “And why did your parents have so much say over what you did with your life?”

  Her mouth opens and closes twice, and then she gazes out at the ocean for a moment. “Because they held the purse strings. And let me tell you, that’s not easy to admit. Some of it was also guilt. I felt like I should be a good daughter and help them.”

  “And now?”

  “Now I see that it was a way for them to control me. I was there because I was dependent on them for my income and wanted their approval. They even chose Troy for me because his father and mine are friends. And he’s wealthy. The relationship looked really good on paper. I’m not often asked for my opinion or for what I want.”

  “And what do you want?”

  “This.” She waves her hand over the table and gestures to the town. “I want to make my own living, have my own friends, and go on dates with my handsome boss.”

  I smile at her. “All of those things sound good to me.”

  The sun sets over the water as Izzy and I finish our meal, and I pack the leftovers in the basket.

  “Let’s walk over here,” I suggest and take her hand in mine to lead her down a path to the edge of the cliff where a bench sits. “Have a seat.”

  “This might be the best view in the worl
d.”

  “I couldn’t agree more.”

  She glances my way and sees that I’m looking at her. “You’re charming.”

  “I’m not, no.” I tuck a piece of blond hair behind her ear. “But I’m taken with you, Isabella, and I find myself wanting to be near you more often than not.”

  “Is that a bad thing?”

  “Not from where I’m sitting.”

  I lean in and kiss her cheek. I want to pull her to me and claim her mouth with mine, but we aren’t the only two in the park, and I don’t want her to miss the sunset.

  “Watch.”

  I point west, and we sit in silence as the sun slips behind the horizon.

  “I had a lot of fun tonight,” Izzy says as I walk her up the steps to the front door. “And I’m not just saying that because it’s customary when a date is over.”

  “I enjoyed myself, as well.” I brace my hand on the doorjamb next to her head and lean in to brush my lips gently over hers. “I’d like to see you again. And often.”

  “I’d like that, too.” Her voice is breathy, and her hands grip the front of my shirt as I take the kiss deeper, enjoying the last few moments I have with her.

  Suddenly, the porch light comes on, startling us both.

  “Thought you’d like to see what you’re doing out there,” Maggie calls through the door.

  Izzy laughs.

  I scowl.

  “Maybe you should go ahead and move back in with me so I don’t have my baby sister as a gatekeeper every time I want to see you.”

  “Don’t be grouchy,” Maggie yells through the door.

  “Get the hell away from this door before I take you over my knee, Mary Margaret.”

  I hear laughter as she walks away. Izzy smiles up at me.

  “Thank you for dinner, and the incredible view. And the conversation. I was going to ask your mom about you, but it’s better to get the information from the source.”

  “I think we have plenty more to learn about each other.”

  “I agree. We have time.”

  I nod, kiss her once more, and then turn to leave while my feet can still carry me away. I wait in the truck until she’s safely inside, and then I drive the short distance to the pub.