Moira froze at the sight of Kevin apologizing.
He didn’t say anything else or wait for a response. He grabbed his bag and disappeared into the house.
Moira continued to stare at the spot where he’d stood. The only other time in their tortured relationship that she could remember Kevin ever apologizing was when they were ten. She had blossomed early and had a chest before most of her classmates. And not just little buds either. Over that summer, she had bloomed straight into needing more support than a training bra.
And of course, Kevin O’Malley sat behind her as he had every year. She had no idea what bug had crawled up his ass that day, but he poked and prodded and then went to snap her bra strap. He started making jokes about how she’d needed an industrial strength bra to hold up her hooters.
She’d never been so embarrassed in her life. Not being able to hold back the tears made it worse. She ran all the way home with tears streaming down her cheeks. Her throat hurt from running and crying.
When she’d gotten to her house, Jimmy and Liam were sitting on the front porch. Liam grabbed her arm and asked what was wrong. She yelled that she hated the O’Malleys and went to her room to finish crying.
An hour later, Kevin O’Malley stood beneath her bedroom window because she’d refused to come to the door. He yelled at the top of his lungs that he was an idiot and he didn’t deserve to even sit behind her at school.
Moira remembered peering under the shade of her window and watching him. He rubbed his neck, just like he did today, and it was like Jimmy stood behind him holding him in place by his neck.
Kevin never said Jimmy made him apologize, but she’d known it. That was the day she fell in love with Jimmy O’Malley.
Jimmy came out the front door and Moira was in the same place. He’d passed Kevin on the way out and Kevin hadn’t said anything, but Moira had a look now, a little misty-eyed, that made him think Kevin had done something. Again.
“Hey,” he called. “Ready to go?”
She shook her head. “Yeah.”
“You okay?”
“Of course.” Then she smiled in that way that could compete with the sunrise. “Maybe a little too much caffeine . . .”
“Let’s walk to the diner.” As they stepped onto the sidewalk, he asked, “So what do you want to tell me?”
“Well, it started last night. Before you left, you had a lot of women talking to you. You have to admit I was right. Having a wife made you safer—they accepted you more because you were one of them, right? Anyway, there were a couple of women I didn’t know, but I recognized. It kind of bugged me, but I was busy, so I pushed it out of my head. Then I got home and I couldn’t sleep—” She stopped suddenly as if she just realized she needed to breathe.
“Exactly how much coffee have you had?”
She waved a hand at him as if it didn’t matter. “A pot to keep me up while I worked and then the one I finished when I got here. Anyway—”
“Did you sleep at all?”
She shrugged and rolled her eyes. He stopped. She kept walking.
It took about five steps for her to notice that he was no longer beside her, so she turned and walked back. “What?”
He studied her face. “Why didn’t you sleep?”
“That’s what I’m trying to tell you. Come on. I’m starving. Keep walking while I talk.” She tugged his hand, but let go as soon as his feet started moving. “Once I had my first cup of coffee, my brain engaged and I started trying to figure out where I knew this woman from. I scoured every photo I had from every event I’ve attended over the last year. And you know what? She wasn’t really in any photo. I mean, I have glimpses of her, but never a shot of her with friends or an interview with her name. But she’s there.”
Jimmy tried to hold his patience. He knew Moira. She needed to gear up to her point, but he suffered from the same lack of sleep she had. Except his wasn’t from finding a lead in the case. His insomnia was directly related to her and her mouth against his. That damn kiss haunted him all night. He thought for sure a run would fix him, but it barely eased the burn. Finding her at his doorstep didn’t help.
They turned the corner and headed down the next block to the diner. Super Cup wasn’t exactly great food, but it was close and they knew what to expect. “Where are you going with this?”
She threw her hands up. “Let me have my moment, would you? I spent all night racking my brain trying to remember. This woman, this nameless woman who doesn’t want to be photographed—I think she’s an escort.”
Jimmy reached for the door of the diner and stopped. “Escort, like hooker?”
“I don’t know the specifics of it, but we’re not talking streetwalker, though.”
He held the door for her. His day did just take a turn in the right direction. Watching Moira’s ass in some short shorts was pretty nice.
They grabbed a booth and sat. Before they even opened the sticky menus, a waitress arrived at the table with two glasses of water.
“Can I get you some coffee?”
“Yes,” Moira answered too quickly.
Jimmy shook his head. “You’ve had enough coffee. Two glasses of orange juice and a milk for her.”
She rolled her eyes again but didn’t seem bothered by him changing her order.
He set the menu to the side.
She did the same. “Milk will go better with brownie à la mode anyway.”
“You’re eating a brownie and ice cream for breakfast?”
“I’ll eat the brownies here any time, any day. They are the best. Chocolaty, gooey, and fudgy all at the same time. If I could find a man to make these for me, I’d be his love slave.”
Jimmy choked on the water he’d been attempting to drink.
She leaned forward against the table, pressing her breasts up, and Jimmy focused squarely in her eyes. “So here’s the deal. I have an imagination. I told Gabby that without details, my mind wanders and I make things up.” She raised a hand quickly. “Don’t worry. I don’t actually ever publish those things, but the ideas are there. So I started thinking about the guys you’re hanging out with at these parties. An idiot could realize that they must figure prominently into your case. That led me to think that since they like to hit on every female they see, and they have a habit of cheating on their wives, maybe it wouldn’t be beneath them to hire an escort. To do whatever.” She took a quick drink of water.
Jimmy stared at her. Sure, it was completely unfounded and they had zero proof, but her working theory closely matched what they’d developed. The difference was, Moira knew these people. It hadn’t occurred to him and Gabby that rich people would hire escorts. Maybe Chicago had its very own Mayflower Madam.
“Uh-oh.”
“What?”
“You’re giving me that look again.”
“What look?” Shit. Had he been looking at her mouth? He hadn’t been actively thinking about kissing her, but the thought never strayed far from his conscious mind whenever she was close.
“The look that says, ‘Shut up, Moira. You don’t know what you’re talking about.’ ”
He smiled. “I wasn’t thinking that at all. In fact, I rarely do, even though you push my patience to the limit.”
The waitress returned with their drinks and took their order.
He wanted to get this information from Moira without giving her any details. If he let her know they were on the same track, she wouldn’t be able to keep her nose out of it. When they were alone again, he continued. “Why did this woman make you think of escorts ?”
“Because she approached me at one of the first events I covered. I’m pretty sure it was her. She handed me a card with a phone number and told me she’d get me more money than my current employer paid.”
He choked on some orange juice. Drinking during this conversation didn’t seem like a smart move. “She thought you were an escort? Why?”
Her mouth curved into a smile as she sat back and waved her hands in front of her chest. As i
f that was supposed to be an explanation. She sighed. “I guess I look like a hooker. I don’t know.”
Jimmy had known Moira to look a lot of ways, but as a hooker appeared nowhere on the list. “Interesting ideas you have, but I told you to stay away from my investigation.”
Her face fell.
He didn’t quite understand her disappointment. It’s not like her job was riding on the success of this case. His wasn’t either, exactly, but when the mayor asked for a favor, he expected something. “Do you still have the card or the phone number? Name of the company?”
“I don’t know. I’ll look. But that means you think I’m onto something.”
He shot her another look.
“Come on, Jimmy. Give me something. I’m trying to help you.”
“I don’t need your help. Believe it or not, I’m capable of doing my job.”
She started fidgeting with the salt and pepper shakers and then the packets of sugar, organizing them by color. He wondered if Moira knew how to sit still. Definitely a smart move to cancel the extra coffee.
They sat in silence until the waitress returned with their food. His stomach turned at the sight of the sugar mess Moira immediately dug into. “How can you eat that?”
“How can you not?” She looked at his plate. “I eat food like this too. If my mom makes it.” She snagged one of his pieces of bacon. Then she scooped up a piece of brownie and offered it to him.
“No, thanks. I’ll stick with my breakfast.”
“You don’t know what you’re missing.”
He watched as she attacked the brownie and ice cream like she’d been denied dessert for a year. It took considerable effort to ignore her mouth, especially when her tongue swirled around the fork to catch a drip of fudge sauce. Tearing his eyes from her, he focused on his own plate. Their conversation was nonexistent and he preferred the silence. Anything else might land where he didn’t want to go.
She finished her brownie in record time, leaving a blob of melted ice cream on the plate. After draining her glass, she spun it in circles while watching him eat.
“You can go if you want. You don’t need to wait for me.”
“No, I’m fine. I’ll walk back with you.”
He waved the waitress over to get their bill while he finished his last few bites.
“Tell me something else about the case.”
“No.”
“Come on, Jimmy. I’m trying to be helpful. Give me something and I can generate more good ideas. My theory is gonna break your case open, just wait and see.” Her cocky grin put him on edge.
“A theory doesn’t solve crimes. I have to do real police work for that to happen.”
She folded her hands in front of her on the table. “I’m like Yoda. I show you the path, but you need to seek your own answers.”
“You’re going to crash so hard when the caffeine and sugar wear off.” He dropped cash on the table to cover the bill and a tip and then he stood. “Ready?”
“Yep.” She bounced out of her seat.
He shook his head. He’d never known anyone as bouncy and bubbly as Moira. If she could bottle it, she’d be rich.
Once they were outside, she opened her arms in a wide stretch and inhaled. “Gorgeous day. Don’t you love summer?”
He shrugged. He didn’t have any preference for one season over another. Just having seasons was enjoyable.
“So about last night.”
His step shuffled and he hoped she missed it. He’d also hoped he’d escape having this conversation.
“You kissed me.”
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
He thought of a slew of reasons: she was beautiful and sexy, he wanted to stop her from flirting with other men in front of him, he wanted to capture a hint of the vivaciousness she exuded. But what came out of his mouth was, “I needed to get you to shut up somehow. You weren’t listening again.”
“Usually you just say, ‘Shut up, Moira.’ ”
He shrugged again.
She put a hand on his forearm to stop their progress. He turned to look at her, afraid of where she was headed.
“You know, I can’t read you. I’m good at seeing people and understanding them, but not you. You run hot and cold with me, and I don’t know what to do.”
“Nothing.”
“But I think we both want to do something about it.”
“Don’t.” He turned to walk away and she grabbed him again. He pulled his arm from her grasp and she jumped in front of him.
“Do not blow me off. I felt it in the kiss last night. That was not a shut-the-fuck-up kiss. There was heat and passion and attraction. It’s a pity if you can’t recognize it.”
Her cheeks were pink again and her blue eyes sparked. Every emotion with Moira was extreme.
After a beat, she took a step back. “Or maybe you just don’t want to be attracted to me. Is that it?”
That was a minefield if he ever heard one, so he didn’t answer.
“So we’re back to you pretending like your mouth doesn’t work?”
“It works fine. I don’t know what you’re looking for here.”
She stepped closer to him again, and he smelled her perfume, soft and flowery. “Tell me the real reason you kissed me last night.”
“Because I wanted to. You were beautiful and you kept flirting with all those other guys.”
“You were jealous?”
Fuck yeah. “No, I have no business being jealous.”
“But you kissed me.”
“We’ve already established that.”
“Kiss me again.”
“ No.”
She sighed at him and a look of pity came into her eyes. “Afraid? That’s really too bad. Maybe you can’t top the kiss from last night and then I’ll know you’re a one-hit wonder.” One side of her mouth tilted up in challenge.
He shouldn’t touch her. He knew he should keep his distance, but he also was never good at backing down from a challenge. Taking a half step forward and invading her space, he wrapped a hand around the back of her neck and lowered his mouth to hers.
He took his time sampling everything about her mouth.
He tasted the sugary sweetness of her breakfast. She was soft and warm and inviting. Her hand came around and rubbed its way up his back, exploring, pulling him nearer. Her pulse tattooed a rapid beat against his palm as his thumb stroked her jaw. Everything about Moira was soft.
His heart beat faster than it had on his run, and something primal took over.
Take.
Mine.
He jerked back from her with the thought. What the hell was he doing?
Her eyes fluttered open and she tilted her head back as if looking for another round. He held her at arm’s length in an attempt to clear his head.
“Why do you do that?”
“What?”
“Pull away. I know you wanted that kiss as much as I did.”
His hands slid down her arms and he let her go. Then he took a full step back. “Because we shouldn’t. I shouldn’t.”
A look of complete bewilderment crossed her face. “Because of Liam?”
“That’s one reason.” He moved to her side and began walking toward his house again.
“Liam wouldn’t care.” Her shoes slapped the pavement as she ran to catch up to him. “I’m serious. Of all my brothers, Liam would be the last one to hassle someone about dating me.”
“And if we end things, how would he react if I hurt you?”
Her grin turned wicked again. “Who says I’d be the one to end up hurt?”
Deep down, he knew she spoke the truth.
She didn’t wait for a further response. She turned and began skipping—honest to God skipping—down the street. Stopping in front of his house, she called, “Are you working today?”
“Not sure yet.”
She squinted in the sunlight. “I’ll pick you up at seven.”
“For what?”
“Our date.”
“What date?”
“The one I’m taking you on tonight. We’re going to go out and have a great time.” She walked to her car and opened the door without a key. Of course she hadn’t locked it.
Just as he was about to yell at her, she revved the engine and pulled away. He made a mental note to yell at her later as he climbed the stairs to go inside. Kevin met him at the door.
“What the hell was that?”
“Hurricane Moira.”
Moira drove home in a haze of pleasure and frustration. Jimmy’s kiss had been heady and wonderful and strangely soothing. But also frustrating because he kept pulling back from her. It was a bizarre dance. He’d initiate and pull away. She’d step forward and he’d retreat further.
He hadn’t shot down the idea of them going on a date, though. Not that she’d given him much chance. By the time she parked in front of her apartment, she felt the sugar crash. Maybe a brownie for breakfast on top of all the caffeine hadn’t been the best idea. Still the best brownie, but now her system was shutting down in need of rest.
She climbed the stairs to her apartment and went straight to bed. Falling asleep proved difficult because her brain was preoccupied with imagining possibilities with Jimmy for the night. She heard their conversations and saw their date as a movie in her head.
She drifted off seeing a smile on Jimmy’s face while he looked at her, which would be a nice change of pace. He didn’t smile nearly enough around her.
Her phone rang, waking her. Glancing at the time and the caller simultaneously, a small jolt of panic hit her. Why was Mom calling? Was there family dinner today? As she answered the phone, she did some quick calculations and realized that family dinner was next Sunday.
“Hi, Mom. What’s up?” She did her best to make it sound like she’d been up for hours so she wouldn’t have to hear the reprimand about sleeping the day away.
“Was that your car I saw parked in front of the O’Malley house early this morning?”
Moira’s mind was not up for battle with her mom. She knew Mom phrased it as a question to trap her in a lie. “Yeah.”
Catch Your Breath Page 10