Bottom Line: Callaghan Brothers, Book 8

by Abbie Zanders

  She did things to him, things that he didn’t quite understand. Yes, he was physically attracted to her. Despite the fact that she wasn’t striking enough upon first glance to do a double take, she was very beautiful, he realized.

  Soft and curvy, feminine in a very natural, basic way, without all of the add-ons. She wore little to no makeup, her hair looked healthy and natural, and her clothes were simple but functional. If it had been anyone else, Aidan was quite sure they’d already be inside, hot and sweaty and naked by now.

  But Mary was different. She stoked something more than his desire. He’d been unable to stop thinking about her for an entire week, and that intrigued him more than anything else. He didn’t want to screw it up by overstaying his welcome or pushing too hard. Mary was not one of the sycophants who would let him get away with crap because of his money or power. As far as she knew, he was just a regular guy. He wanted to keep it that way for a little longer.

  “Well, I guess I should be going,” he said, though it was the very last thing he wanted to do. He had accomplished what he’d set out to – he had found Mary, even knew where she worked now, which was definitely a bonus. He would be able to recognize her house again, but to be sure, he made a point of glancing at the mailbox and committing the silvery numbers – 227 – to memory.

  “Would... would you like to come in for a bit?” she asked hesitantly.

  Aidan’s entire train of thought came to a sudden and grinding halt. The smile he gave her was genuine. “I would like that very much, as long as I’m not keeping you from anything.”

  “No,” she said with a smile, reaching into her pocket for her keys. “Max and I have a clear schedule tonight.”

  He stepped up behind her, not enough to crowd but close enough to block the gusts of wind while she opened the door. Her delicate scent was like ambrosia mixed with the crisp winter air.

  Her fingers trembled as she attempted to fit the key into the lock. Was it from the cold, he wondered, or might he hope that she, too, was experiencing the same tingling rush of anticipation as he was?

  “Here, let me,” he said smoothly, taking the key from her hand.

  She didn’t step back though, which meant Aidan had to lean very closely in front of her to reach the lock. He heard her slight intake of breath when his shoulders brushed against her, felt the tiniest puff of breath against his neck.

  When she made no move to enter, he turned to find her eyes closed, the hint of a smile about those pretty pink lips. If he didn’t know better, he would swear she had leaned closer to smell him.

  “Thanks,” she murmured, opening her eyes. Color rushed to her cheeks.

  “My pleasure.”

  A familiar yellow beast rushed into the foyer to greet them, butt wiggling and tail wagging with barely contained delight. Mary put her soup and bag down on the small table just inside the door, then crouched down to give Max a hug and a good scratch behind the ears. Aidan had the sudden image of Mary wrapping her arms around him at the end of a hard day, then wondered where the hell that had come from.

  Satisfied with Mary’s attention, Max turned to Aidan, sniffing cautiously at his coat. Apparently Max liked the way he smelled, too.

  “Remember Aidan, Max?” Mary asked. As if he understood, Max sat on his haunches and offered Aidan a paw.

  Brows raised in surprise, Aidan leaned over and shook Max’s paw. “Well, aren’t you polite?” Max gave him a great big doggie grin. Mary laughed. “Yeah, he really must like you. Normally when someone comes by he barks like crazy and hides behind me. Just the men, though. He’s different with women.”

  “Get a lot of male visitors, do you?” he asked before he could stop himself.

  “No,” she said, her smile fading a little. “Just the occasional home repairman.”

  Goddammit! He was such a fucking idiot! Why did he keep saying stupid shit like that to her? The moment he thought of some other man coming into her house, paying attention to her, something short-wired in his brain.

  “Aidan,” she said, her voice suddenly very serious and quiet. “I realize what you must think of me. But you’re wrong. I don’t make a habit of bringing drunk guys back to my house, or allowing them to walk me home and then invite them in.” She paused and bit her lip, as if deciding whether or not to say any more. “You are the only man to cross my threshold in a non-professional capacity for a very long time.”

  Bemusement warred with self-loathing. Bemusement edged ahead. “Why?” he blurted out.

  She shook her head, her expression thoughtful, as if she had been asking herself the same question. “I don’t know. I can’t explain it. You’re just... different.”

  “Different how?” he pressed. He couldn’t say why, but the answer was important.

  She shrugged, taking his coat and hanging it up along with hers on the old-fashioned coat rack just inside. That was a positive sign; it would be perfectly in her rights to ask him to leave and not darken her doorstep again.

  “I think it’s the way you look at me. Like you actually see me. Like I’m a normal woman.”

  “You mean you’re not?” he asked with amusement as he let his eyes take her in from head to toe and back up again. “Because I have to tell you, if not, that’s one hell of a disguise you’ve got going on there.”

  She laughed softly; it was like music to his soul. And just that quickly, the tension was gone from around her eyes. Unfortunately, she didn’t offer further insight into her puzzling statement.

  “Come on, Max. Let’s get you outside and then have some dinner.”

  Aidan followed behind Mary, his eyes travelling between the shimmering strands of her shiny chestnut hair and the sweet sway of her behind. They passed through the living area he’d seen briefly before, but now he took the opportunity to look around.

  A small fireplace took up a fair portion of the outside wall to the left of the big bay window. On the mantle, a goofy looking reindeer with a Santa hat poised around its ridiculous antlers, a matching scarf around its neck, eyes bulging comically as it gripped a gold saxophone. Unable to help himself, Aidan pushed the small red velvet oval on the creature’s foot and a familiar melody began to play.

  “Benny Hill!” he exclaimed as he recognized the jazzy, upbeat tune he remembered from his youth, when he used to stay up late to watch reruns of the comic on cable.

  “Yeah! You know Benny Hill?

  “One of my favorites,” Aidan confessed. On a sudden whim, Aidan said, “And now for something...”

  “...completely different,” Mary finished without hesitation. Then they both laughed.

  “Don’t tell me you like Monty Python, too?”

  “Love them. I have all their movies on DVD.”

  With much of the awkwardness now gone, Aidan followed Mary into the kitchen. She flipped a switch, flooding the back yard in light, and opened the door for Max. The dog hesitated, looking from Mary to Aidan and back again.

  “Don’t worry,” she said to Max, “I’ll make sure he stays until you come back in.” Only then did the yellow Lab trot outside.

  “I swear that dog understood every word you said,” Aidan commented, shaking his head.

  “Of course he did,” Mary replied with obvious pride. “Max hasn’t quite accepted the fact that he’s a dog. He sees himself as more of a vertically challenged human.”

  Aidan laughed at that, something he found incredibly easy to do in Mary’s presence.

  “Have you eaten?” Mary asked.

  “Just the cinnamon roll at O’Leary’s.”

  “Mmmm. He has the best cinnamon rolls. Great potato soup, too. I’ll share it with you.”

  “I don’t want to impose.”

  “No imposition,” she assured him. “I’ll warm up the soup a bit. Maybe you can raid my fridge and see if there’s enough there for sandwiches.”

  With a boyish grin, Aidan rolled up his sleeves and went to work.

  “So. How do you know Mr. O’Leary?” Mary asked. She took a bite
of the Dagwood sandwich Aidan had assembled and her eyes rolled back in her head. “Oh my God. This is fabulous.”

  “Thanks,” Aidan said, pleased with her praise. It was just a sandwich, but the fact that she liked it so much made him feel like he’d done something special. “And Conlan O’Leary is the grandfather-in-law of one of my closest friends.”

  “I know of the Connellys here in Birch Falls, but I’ve heard he has family over in Pine Ridge, too. Is that where your friend lives?”

  Aidan nodded. Mary reached over and dabbed at the little bit of mayo at the corner of his mouth, then realizing what she did, averted her eyes and blushed.

  “You can’t help it, can you?” Aidan asked.

  She concentrated on her sandwich. “Help what?”

  “Helping people. Taking care of them.”

  She shrugged. A few moments passed in silence, then he said, “Who takes care of you, Mary?”

  Her eyes widened, and that was when he saw it. The fierce longing in her eyes. The raw need. It was gone almost as soon as he’d glimpsed it, but it was there. He’d felt it, like a fist deep in his solar plexus.

  “I’m a big girl,” she said with a smile that didn’t quite fully develop. Her shoulders rolled, as if readying herself for battle. “I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”

  Aidan caught the small sound of dissent in the back of his throat. Yes, she was capable. But she didn’t want to be. Out loud, he said, “Obviously.”

  Slightly mollified (and perhaps a bit disappointed?) Mary returned her attention back to her meal. Aidan watched her surreptitiously out of the corner of his eye. An idea began to form in his mind. The more he thought about it, the more right it seemed.

  He waited until she didn’t look like she could eat any more, then pushed himself away from the table. “Hey,” he said, gathering Mary’s plates before she could. “What if I came by on Saturday and helped you take down your decorations?”

  Mary blinked. She didn’t say anything at first. Aidan proceeded to rinse the dishes and stack them neatly in the dishwasher while she carefully wrapped the leftovers and put them into the fridge.

  “You want to help me take down my Christmas stuff?” she finally asked, bemused.

  “Yeah,” he said, flashing her a trademark Harrison grin guaranteed to seal the deal. “I could bring dinner, then maybe you and I could watch Holy Grail or something.”

  “That sounds... well, great, actually.”

  His crooked grin morphed into a full-blown smile. “Great.”

  If he didn’t leave soon, he was going to have her in his arms, something he didn’t think she was quite ready for. Then again, he wasn’t sure he was, either. The air practically sizzled between them when they were doing something as innocent as sharing soup and sandwiches at her kitchen table.

  “Thanks for dinner, Mary, and for the pleasure of your company.”

  “You’re welcome. I enjoyed it, too.”

  Mary walked over to the large-silled window in the kitchen and picked up a healthy-looking ivy plant with heart-shaped, variegated leaves. “Here,” she said, handing it to him. “This little guy is practically indestructible, an immortal among plants. Semi-sun, only water when the soil looks dry. It’s a good one to start with.”

  He graciously accepted the plant and thanked her. She walked him to the door, but before she opened it, she hesitated. “Aidan? Can I have your number again?”

  “Of course.” He pulled another Celtic Goddess business card out of his wallet and scribbled his personal cell number on the back. He refused to ask what happened to the last card he’d given her. It didn’t matter, though it did offer some insight into why he hadn’t heard from her. Maybe she’d wanted to call and had lost the number somehow. In any event, what was important was that she was asking for it now.

  “Thanks. Do you, um, want mine, too? You know, just in case something comes up and you can’t make it or something.” She concentrated on petting Max, avoiding his eyes. Aidan’s index finger curled lightly beneath her chin, gently urging her to look up into his face.

  What he saw there had another fist curling deep in his center. She didn’t believe he would come back.

  “I would very much like your number, Mary,” he said. “And I will be back on Saturday, as long as you’ll have me. I promise.”

  Mary nodded, but her lashes fluttered down enough to shutter her pretty brown eyes. She wanted to believe him, but she didn’t.

  “Do you believe me, Mary?” His words were softer, his face closer than it had been only a few minutes earlier.

  “Yes,” she lied.

  “Good, because I never break a promise.”

  Aidan closed the last few inches between them, allowing his lips to brush hers slightly in a light, barely there caress. Her lips were so soft: her taste, so sweet. One hand held tightly to the small potted plant; the other was clenched into a fist at his side to keep himself from pulling her against him and deepening the kiss.

  It was chaste as far as kisses go; it had been a long time since Aidan had kissed a girl so innocently. But it felt like so much more for all the effect it had on him. Warmth rushed through his veins, his heart pounded in his chest, and for several moments, his lungs seemed to forget how to expand. He hadn’t closed his eyes, but Mary had, and the look of her, face lifted, lips slightly parted, eyes closed, sent pulsating waves of need straight into his groin. Images of her looking just like that, naked and flushed beneath him, flashed into his mind’s eye and he groaned.

  The rhythm of a thick, heavy tail against the tiles of the foyer helped Aidan pull back before he lost control completely, the urge to slam her up against the door and possess her a tangible thing. “Till Saturday, then.”

  Her eyes opened slowly, so big and brown he could drown in them. “Saturday.” Her voice caught; Aidan was glad that he wasn’t the only one who seemed to be affected. He reached down and petted Max.

  He stepped outside and paused. Once again, he’d been so caught up in Mary he had no idea where he was or how he got there. Mary noticed his confusion and chuckled. “You don’t know where you are, do you?”

  He shook his head.

  “Two blocks right, then one left will put you back at O’Leary’s.”

  He grinned sheepishly. “Thanks.”

  Chapter Six

  Saturday was four days away. A lot could happen in four days, she reminded herself. There were any number of reasons Aidan wouldn’t come. A winter storm. Horrible illness. A better offer. The sudden need to clean his bathroom.

  Mary shook her head and went back to dusting the cobwebs from the corners of the ceiling. Aidan said he would come. He would come. She had no reason to doubt him.

  Yeah, right, the snarky part of her brain said. Because gorgeous men like Aidan were beating a path to her door.

  Well, the optimist in her countered, it had been Aidan’s idea. It wasn’t like she’d asked him and he only agreed to come so he wouldn’t hurt her feelings.

  As if on cue, the phone rang. Mary’s heart sunk as she recognized the flashing caller id as the same number Aidan had written on the back of the Celtic Goddess business card. The same number that had burned itself into her memory in case she somehow managed to misplace it, or, in yet another fit of temporary insanity, burn it again.

  He was probably calling to cancel. Dare she answer it? Or should she make him leave a message telling her he couldn’t make it? That would be easier, on him and on her. No awkward pauses or lame excuses, just a simple cancellation.

  “Hello?” Mary hiked up her big girl panties and picked up the receiver even as she made up her mind, her knuckles whitening around the device. If he was going to bail on her, he would have to tell her face to face. Or at least phone to phone.

  “Mary? It’s Aidan.” A delicious shiver ran the length of her spine at the sound of his voice. It was like melted chocolate ice cream, sweet and rich and decadent.

  She took a deep breath, mentally preparing herself. “Hi
Aidan. What’s up?”

  Even she heard the disappointment lacing her voice, despite her best efforts to sound casual. Aidan chuckled softly on the other end. “You think I’m cancelling on you.”

  A sigh. “Aren’t you?”

  Another chuckle. “No, not at all. Saturday can’t come fast enough for me. I can’t stop thinking about you, actually.”

  Tingles of happiness started somewhere deep in her chest and radiated outward. It was hard to keep both feet on the ground when he said things like that. “Really?”

  “Really.”

  “Oh.” He wasn’t cancelling? He wasn’t cancelling!

  “Mary?”

  “Hm?”

  “Do you have any food preferences? Anything special you’d like me to bring?”

  “Oh, uh, no. I’m sure anything you decide is fine.”

  There was a brief pause. “Leaving it to me, huh? Are you that easy to please or is this a test?”

  The teasing smile was evident in his voice. Mary found herself smiling, too, one foot lifting up to rub the back of her other calf like she was some crushing teenager. “Maybe a little of both.”

  A low, sinful laugh had her pressing her thighs together. “I hope I pass.”

  Mary did, too.

  * * *

  Aidan was still smiling as he tucked the cell phone in his pocket, an uncharacteristic spring in his step.

  “What’s got you so happy? Did Francesco D’Armini call to tell you he’s closing or something?” Lexi asked when he entered the kitchens. Alexis Kattapoulos Callaghan was the head chef and inspiration behind the Celtic Goddess franchise, and his best and closest friend in the world. Lexi’s office adjoined his on the top floor, but she was rarely in it, preferring to spend the majority of her working time hands-on in the kitchens.

  It was one of the reasons he made a point of venturing down to see her at least once a day. She kept him grounded, reminded him that he was human. Despite the fact the she was wealthy in her own right and one of the top chefs in the country, she remained as unaffected as the shy girl he’d first met more than twelve years earlier.