I pace the living room because I have too much energy to sit down. “We don’t need five gallons of orange juice every week. It’s not like we have a bunch of women coming in for brunch all the time for mimosas, for God’s sake. We have people who want Guinness and whiskey, and sometimes a mixed cocktail.”
“You’re not wrong,” Maggie says.
“He’s so moody. He wouldn’t let me help him with his knuckles the other night, and today, he was kind of short with me—which is unlike him.”
“Wait.” She stands with me and holds up her hands. “You had a fight over orange juice?”
“Not just that. He also told me that I should stick to waiting tables and leave the pub ownership to him.”
Her eyes go wide, and her lips form an O. “Did you slug him one?”
“No, I was quite calm. I left.”
“Keegan’s never liked being told what to do.”
“I didn’t tell him! I suggested that he buy less orange juice.”
“So, you did fight over OJ.”
I sigh. “I guess.”
Maggie giggles.
“It isn’t funny.”
She giggles again, and I can’t help but smile with her. “Okay, it’s a little funny.”
“Your first fight was over a breakfast drink. I think that’s damn funny. Also, Keegan should be shot for telling you to stay in your lane.”
“Yeah, that wasn’t cool. But I was probably a little aggressive with my delivery, too. Maybe I should have said, ‘I have a suggestion,’ before I criticized his vodka and OJ orders.”
“So, are you going back over there to talk it out?”
I blow out a breath and flop onto the couch. “You know what? I don’t think so. I’ll go back when it’s time for my shift.”
“Good, we can ride together. Let’s do a deep-cleansing face mask and pedicures.”
“That’s the best offer I’ve had in a long time.”
A few hours later, at the start of my shift, I walk into the pub with freshly painted toes—albeit hidden in my sneakers—and a clean face. Keegan’s behind the bar, stacking glasses. His head comes up and he looks right at me, his green eyes intense, and if I’m not mistaken, filled with regret.
Before either of us can say a word, Maggie approaches the bar with a grin. “Hey, Keegan, can I please have a glass of orange juice?”
I snort, unable to stop myself. Keegan’s lips twitch.
“There’s plenty back here, Mary Margaret, get it yourself. Izzy, I’d like to see you.”
I follow him into the storeroom where this whole mess began, and he closes the door behind us.
“I owe you an apology,” he begins. “I get defensive when it comes to my pub.”
“Learned that the hard way,” I mutter but smile up at him. “I should have been softer in my delivery. I wasn’t trying to insult you or even tell you how to do your job.”
“You were trying to help,” he finishes for me and steps closer, dragging his hands up my arms and then frames my face. “And I was a jerk.”
“Maybe we both had some jerk tendencies in that moment. But I don’t think you’re a jerk all the time.”
His lips turn up in a smile before descending on mine. The kiss is possessive, sweet, and full of apology.
And when he pulls back, my knees are weak, and what I have on my mind is not going to work.
“We have to get back out there,” I whisper.
“I know. Stay with me tonight.”
“I planned on it.”
He laughs and plants a kiss on my forehead. “I guess you weren’t that mad at me, then.”
“Oh, I was mad, but I knew we’d figure it out by this evening. I don’t really hold much of a grudge. Unless you’re my parents. Or Troy.”
“It’s good that I’m neither of those.” He opens the door, and we find Fiona and Tom arguing in the hallway.
“It’s a bloody stubborn arse that you are, Thomas O’Callaghan,” Fiona says.
“Looks like arguments are going around today,” Keegan observes. “What seems to be the problem?”
“I’m taking your mother into the doctor tomorrow for her shoulder, whether she likes it or not,” Tom says, standing firm. I have a hunch he doesn’t do this unless it’s important.
Which tells me that Fiona’s shoulder has been bothering her more than she’s willing to admit.
“I just pulled something from lifting heavy bags of potatoes or some stupid thing,” she insists.
“I’m with Da on this one,” Keegan says. “You’ve been complaining about it for a while now. It’s time to have it looked at.”
“A bunch of bullies, the lot of you,” Fiona mutters before storming off into the kitchen.
“It’s a bully I am because I want to keep my wife healthy and strong.” Tom shakes his head. “Women. I can’t go a day without her, yet sometimes, I want to tumble her right into the sea.”
I laugh as he walks away and lean my head on Keegan’s biceps. “They’re so lovely together.”
“Even when they’re mad, it’s obvious they love each other. It was a good example to have growing up.”
I nod and think about my parents and how I always knew they barely tolerated each other. What would it have been like to grow up with loving parents who doted on each other?
I shake my head. There’s no sense dwelling on that since it is what it is.
“Hey, do you remember a couple of weeks ago when we were at the diner, and Cameron asked if he could speak to you and your brothers? Did you ever do that?”
Keegan’s brow furrows. “No, now that you mention it, we didn’t. I completely forgot about it. I’ll ask Kane if he knows what’s up.”
“I don’t know why that popped into my head this morning,” I say. “And I was curious if you’d had the chance to talk.”
“It’s good having you around,” he replies. “You’re a great human to-do list.”
“I have the memory of an elephant.” I laugh and get to work.
“I cannot believe I burned my damn hand,” Maeve says as she scowls at the gauze wrapped around her palm as the rest of us clean up from another busy evening. “What in the hell is wrong with me?”
“You’ve been working a lot of hours,” I remind her.
“You need to take a few nights to yourself, Maeve,” Keegan agrees. “I don’t need to be taking up all of your spare time.”
“What am I going to do, sit at home and binge Netflix?”
“That sounds lovely,” I say. “But something tells me you’re not the sit-and-watch-TV type.”
“You’d be right.” She cringes. “But I think I’ll have to take you up on it because I can’t grip drinks with this hand. Sorry, guys.”
“Just take care of yourself,” Keegan assures her.
We finish cleaning up the bar, and Keegan walks his sisters out to their cars. I go ahead and climb the stairs to the dwelling above. I like Keegan’s apartment. It’s very small, but it’s comfortable. And it always makes me feel safe.
Maybe that’s because it was literally my safe place after my world fell apart.
I’ve just peeled off my clothes and stepped into a warm shower when the bathroom door opens.
“I’m glad you feel at home here.” He steps into the shower with me and immediately starts to wash my hair.
This is a little luxury I love. It always feels better when someone else washes your hair. And Keegan’s hands are the best.
“I’m glad you don’t mind that I make myself at home.”
“If I minded, I wouldn’t invite you up here. And we can’t do this at Maggie’s house. She’d barge right in.”
I laugh and then sigh when his fingertips massage my scalp. “You’re so good with your hands.”
“Hmm.”
He rinses my hair, and then kisses me long and slow while he ducks under the spray. I wash his back, his arms, his stomach.
“The first time I saw your abs, I thought that a woman could wash her clot
hes on them.”
He lets out a laugh. “Is that so?”
“Yeah. Have you seen them?”
He glances down. “There they are.”
“Bless them.” I let my hands drift over each individual muscle. “I was never really an abs girl before. I mean, I could appreciate a flat stomach on a man, but it really wasn’t a big deal. And then you took your shirt off, and I suddenly understood what all the fuss was about.”
I glance up, expecting to see him scoff or laugh, but his face is suddenly serious.
“Did I say something wrong?”
“No.” He kisses my forehead. The water runs down his torso, taking the soap away. He turns off the tap and reaches for a towel, wrapping me up in it. When I’m good and dry, he reaches for another, and I help him mop up the water.
He tosses the towels into a hamper, then takes me into his bedroom. A lamp is on low in the corner of the room, but the space is mostly bathed in shadows. The sun will start to rise in a few hours.
Keegan puts in a lot of hours in the pub. But he’s never too tired to spend quality time with me after a long day of work.
He lays me down on the bed, and joins me, stretched out next to me. His fingers glide over my belly, which is definitely not as defined as his, and then up to my breasts.
“I’ve been with women before you,” he says, at last, breaking the silence of the room. “I’m not innocent. But there was always something missing, something lacking. It made me believe that I wasn’t cut out for a relationship. But then I met you, and I suddenly understood what all the fuss was about.”
My eyes meet his in surprise. “That might be the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”
He kisses my cheek, my chin, and then my lips as he links his fingers with mine and urges me onto my back.
“Everything about you is a new discovery. You make me crazy with wanting you. I can’t keep my eyes off of you, Isabella. And it’s going to sound macho, but I don’t give a shit. You’re mine. In every sense of the word, you’re mine.”
I moan and arch my back as he slides into me. This man—and everything he is—is pure decadence. He makes me feel feminine, desired, and loved.
And I should know because I’ve gone without love for a lot of my life.
My hands grip his ass as he moves faster, his strokes long and sure as he takes us both up and over the crest of pure sensation.
And when we’re tangled together, the light extinguished, ready to fall asleep, Keegan kisses my hair, his arms wrapped around me from behind.
“I love you, Isabella.”
I bite my lip and feel my eyes fill with tears. “I love you, too.”
Chapter 13
~Keegan~
“Move in with me.”
Izzy’s eyes are wide over her coffee cup. I sprang the question on her just as she took a sip, and she starts to cough.
We get a few looks from others in the diner, but I don’t care.
She covers her mouth with her napkin. Once she controls the coughing, she stares at me. “I’m sorry, I thought you just said to move in with you.”
“That I did, lass.”
She raises her mug back to her lips and takes a sip without coughing this time. “Are you sure that’s what you want?”
I sit back in the booth, completely ignoring my oatmeal. “I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t what I want. But if it’s not what you want, you only have to say so.”
She shakes her head, and I’m sure I’m about to get shot down. But then she surprises me with, “I never stopped thinking of the apartment as home.”
“If you weren’t comfortable at Maggie’s, you should have said so.”
“I am comfortable there. I love Maggie. But it isn’t home.”
She takes a bite of her pancake, and I want to scoop her up and take her right here. But that would be frowned upon.
“Do you think it’ll hurt Maggie’s feelings if I move out?”
“I don’t care, to be perfectly honest.”
She laughs at me, and the sound makes all the hair stand up on my body. “Yes, you do.”
“I don’t think it’ll hurt her feelings.”
“Well, good. Because I don’t want to do that. I’m grateful to her for letting me stay there. It’s a really cute little house.”
“Does this mean you’re moving in with me, then?”
She blinks up at me. “Isn’t that what we’re talking about?”
“I asked, and then you started thinking and talking about Mary Margaret.”
I now understand what my da meant when he said he’d like to toss Ma into the sea, and yet he can’t live without her.
Izzy laughs and then wipes her mouth with her napkin. “Yes. I’m moving in.”
“Today.”
She continues laughing and then stares at me with a happy smile that lights up the entire diner. It’s no wonder that I’m completely gone for her.
“I can go pack today and have a chat with Maggie.”
“While you do that, I’ll go over to the flat and clear out some space for your things.”
“I’ve bought more things since I was there last.”
“You can have the entire place if that’s what you want.”
“No, I think the purpose is to share the space. That’s what moving in together means.”
The waitress arrives with the check, and I give her my card before she can walk away.
Once I’ve paid, and we’re in my truck, I take Izzy’s hand and kiss her knuckles. “Thank you.”
“For?”
“Moving in with me. Have you already forgotten?”
She’s laughing again, and the sound makes my heart happy. “You don’t have to thank me for that. Thank you for sharing your space.”
“Our space.”
She nods, and I pull in behind her little convertible at Maggie’s.
“I’ll be over in an hour or two. I’m not sure how long it’ll take me to pack.”
“Let me know if you need any help.”
She leans over the center console for a quick kiss, and then she’s out of the truck and walking up to the front door. Halfway there, she stops and blows me a kiss.
I’m going to marry her. Have wee babies with her, and build a home with her.
Maybe not in that order.
Now that she’s in my life, I have no intention of ever letting her go.
The drive to the pub only takes five minutes. I hurry in through the back door, but before I climb the stairs to the flat, something tells me to go check on the kitchen.
It’s just a feeling, a niggle at the back of my head, and I learned long ago to listen to feelings like that.
I push through the door of the kitchen and stop cold.
“Ma.” I rush to my mother, who’s doubled over and bracing herself on the counter. “What’s wrong, Ma?”
“My chest,” she groans. “And arm. My jaw. I don’t know what to do.”
I brace her in my arms as I pull my phone out of my pocket and immediately call 911.
“Emergency Services, what is your emergency?”
“I think my mother’s having a heart attack. I need an ambulance straight away.” I rattle off the address of the pub. “We’re back in the kitchen. The front door is locked, but the back door is open.”
“I’m dispatching now. Is she conscious?”
“Yes.” I describe what she looks like—gray and sweaty, with shortness of breath. My heart is in my throat as I end the call with 911 and immediately dial Maeve’s number.
“Hey,” she says in greeting.
“Get Da and meet us at the hospital. My guess is we’ll go to Seattle, but I don’t know yet.”
“What? What’s happening?”
“Ma’s having a heart attack.” I guide her to a chair and help her down. “Ambulance is on the way. I can hear the sirens now.”
“I hear them, too. Should we come to the pub?”
“I don’t think you’ll make it here in time.”<
br />
I hear Maeve running through her house. “I can’t find Da. Are you sure he’s not at the pub?”
“I’m fucking sure, Maeve. I have to go.”
I hang up as four EMTs hurry into the kitchen with a gurney and a whole host of equipment I know nothing about.
They nudge me out of the way as they immediately hook Ma up to machines that start to beep and flash.
“Definite heart attack,” one of them says. “Let’s load her up. We’re flying her to Seattle General. We’ll have her there in twenty minutes.”
“I’m going with you.”
Ma’s eyes are closed, and she’s wheezing as she struggles to breathe. We’re loaded into the ambulance and rushed to a helipad where a helicopter is already running and ready for us. After we’re transferred into the aircraft and strapped in, I put my headphones on to talk to the staff and then shoot off a group text to all of my siblings.
Me: Ma and I are in a helicopter on our way to Seattle General. Heart attack. Please come right away.
I hit send and reach out for her hand. I can’t hear what she’s saying because she’s not wearing a headset, but I can read her lips.
Where’s Tommy?
I lean down so I can talk into her ear.
“We’re going to the hospital in Seattle, Mama. Da and the others are on their way. You’re going to be okay.”
Please, God, let her be okay.
I’ve never been so scared in my life as the helicopter touches down on the roof of the hospital, and we’re rushed inside and down to the emergency department.
“Fiona O’Callaghan,” someone yells. “Female, sixty-two. Chest pain, left arm pain, and jaw pain.”
“Got it,” someone else yells as Ma is wheeled back to a room. I stand back and watch as a flurry of people surround her and immediately hook her up to an IV and all kinds of monitors.
“Pulse is one eighty-one.”
“We need to get that down.”
I approach her from the side, hoping to help calm her. “Ma. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”
I take her hand once more, and she looks over at me with wide eyes. “I want Tommy.”
“I know, and he’s coming.” I want him, too. “For now, these people are going to help you. And I’m right beside you. I won’t budge. You know how stubborn I am.”
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