The Devaney Brothers: Ryan And Sean

6

When Maggie finally crept into the house, it was nearly three in the morning. No sooner had she crossed the threshold into the kitchen, though, than the light was switched on. Maggie nearly jumped out of her skin.

“A little late, aren’t you?” Katie inquired, looking thoroughly pleased at having scared the daylights out of her big sister.

“What are you doing up?” Maggie asked irritably. “Come to think of it, what are you doing here? I thought you’d gone back to your own place.”

“Since my big sister’s visiting, I thought I’d spend some time at home,” Katie said. “Imagine my surprise when I arrived and found that no one was home. I waited for hours before Mom and Dad got here.”

Maggie thought of her parents’ delight at the prospect of going home to be alone. “I’m sure they were thrilled to find you here,” she said dryly.

Katie frowned. “Actually, they did seem a bit taken aback. What was that about?”

Maggie smothered a grin. “Just think about it, okay?” She glanced at Katie’s mug of hot chocolate. “Is there more of that?”

“There are packages in the cabinet. I zapped it in the microwave.” When Maggie shuddered, she added, “Dump enough marshmallows on the top and you can’t tell the difference.” She stood up. “Here, I’ll do it. You sit down and put your feet up. You look beat. What did you do tonight?”

“Mom and Dad didn’t tell you?”

“They made some cryptic remark about you being with Ryan.”

“That’s right. Actually, I helped out at the pub.”

Katie paused with the cup halfway into the microwave and stared. “I thought you swore you would never wait tables again after you worked out at the Cape that summer during college.”

“This was different.”

Katie grinned. “Because Ryan was there,” she guessed. “Ah, the things we do for love.”

“I’m not in love with him,” Maggie protested. She was fascinated, curious, in lust...but love? No way. She might believe in it, but she wanted to get the rest of her life in order first.

“Just halfway there?”

“Not even halfway,” Maggie insisted, though the memory of that bone-melting kiss they’d shared sent heat shimmering through her all over again. “He’s an attractive man and a decent, complicated guy. I want to get to know him.”

“In the carnal sense, I imagine,” Katie said slyly.

“Katie O’Brien, you shouldn’t say such things,” Maggie protested indignantly.

“Well, if you don’t, you’re crazy.” She handed Maggie the mug of nuked chocolate with four marshmallows jammed on top.

“Let’s drop the topic of Ryan Devaney for the moment,” Maggie said. “What about you? With everyone around, we hardly had a chance to talk over Thanksgiving. Any man in your life?”

“Not even one on the horizon,” Katie said. “It makes Dad very happy.”

“But you like your job, right? You’re happy teaching?”

Katie grinned. “I love the kids, even if Dad does think that teaching kindergarten is little more than glorified babysitting. They’re so eager to learn at that age. And the school is small enough that I can really get to know each child and figure out the best way to get through to him.”

“You’re more like Mom than any of the rest of us. You have endless patience and a real knack for making learning fun.”

“Thanks,” her sister said, clearly pleased by the praise. “But it’s going to be way too easy to wind up in a rut. Next thing I know, I’ll be forty and single and wondering what happened. It doesn’t help that most of the people I know these days are female teachers and moms.”

“Oh, please,” Maggie scoffed. “I don’t think you need to worry about that yet.”

Katie regarded her with a knowing expression. “Isn’t that what brought you home? Didn’t you wake up one day and realize that you were dissatisfied with your life?”

Maggie thought about it. “In a way, I suppose. I wasn’t meeting interesting people, and the work was boring. I wasn’t making use of half the skills I learned when I got my MBA. I needed a new challenge.”

“Like I said, you were dissatisfied. Any idea what you’ll do next? Will you go back to Maine?”

“I’ve kept the house for the time being, but I don’t know. It’s going to be hard to find the kind of work I really want.”

“Which is?”

“Something where I can make better use of my degree and my people skills.”

“Like running a pub?” Katie inquired slyly.

Maggie laughed, thinking of her earlier attempt to convince Ryan to update his accounting methods or even to reorganize his inventory. “If I decide on that, I suspect I’ll have to find someplace other than Ryan’s,” she said wryly. “He balks at the prospect of changing the least little thing.”

Katie laughed. “You’ve already tried, haven’t you? What did you do, start messing with his accounting procedures?”

“I just recommended that he consider computerizing his bookkeeping.”

“And he told you to buzz off?”

“More or less.”

“So, of course, the next time you go, you’ll take along a few sample spreadsheets and show him how simple it would be,” Katie guessed.

Maggie took the joking suggestion seriously. “Actually, not a bad idea.”

“Oh, Mags,” Katie said with a shake of her head. “Telling a man he’s doing something all wrong is not the way to win his heart. Of course, maybe you’d rather have a job than his heart.”

“Why does it have to be an either-or situation?”

“Because he’s a man,” Katie said wisely.

Maggie sighed. “He is definitely that.”

Katie regarded her speculatively. “Have you kissed him?”

At Maggie’s blush, she hooted. “You have, haven’t you? Was it great?”

“Oh, yes,” Maggie murmured. “Better than great.”

“Then forget about the man’s financial system. Concentrate on what’s important.”

“And that would be?”

“If you don’t know,” Katie said with a pitying expression, “then nothing I can say will help.”

She stood up, gave Maggie a peck on the cheek and announced, “I’m going to bed. You coming?”

Maggie shook her head. “Not just yet.”

A worried frown creased Katie’s brow. “Mags, don’t analyze this to death.”

“More advice from the woman who doesn’t have a man in her life?”

“Yes,” Katie said, her expression serious. “Take it from someone who analyzed the love of her life right out the door.”

She swept out of the room before an openmouthed Maggie could comment. This was the first Maggie had heard about her baby sister losing the man of her dreams. Had anyone in the family known? As far as Maggie knew, everyone had assumed Katie was happily playing the field, years away from wanting to settle down, just as their father preferred. Apparently, they were all wrong. None of them had even suspected that she’d met the man of her dreams, much less lost him.

Adding worry about Katie’s unexpected revelation to her already churning thoughts about Ryan’s kiss, Maggie concluded it was going to be a very long night.

* * *

Since Jack Reilly hadn’t stopped by the pub on Friday night, Ryan set out to track him down first thing Saturday morning. He was actually relieved to have something to do that might keep his mind off of Maggie, at least for a couple of hours. He doubted there was anything that could banish her from his thoughts permanently, not after that kiss they’d shared.

He found the private investigator on a basketball court a few blocks away, shooting hoops with a bunch of neighborhood kids. When he spotted Ryan, he passed the ball to one of the boys and loped over to meet him.

“Thank heavens you came along. They were wearing me out,” he said, bending down to catch his breath. “Don’t know when I got to be so out of shape.”

“Too many nights on a barstool?” Ryan asked.

“I don’t think a couple of ales account for it. Probably the cigarettes.” He grabbed a towel from a bench and wiped his face. “What brings you over here? Were you looking for me?”

Ryan nodded. “I need your expertise.” He explained about Letitia Monroe and her son. “Think you can track down the father?”

“If he’s using credit cards or gotten a new job, I can probably locate him by the end of the day,” Jack said, then held up his hand when Ryan started to say something. “But if somebody really wants to get lost, there won’t be much I can do to find them.”

“I doubt he gave this enough thought to hide out for long,” Ryan said. “I think it was an impulsive decision. He probably just got scared and ran. Sooner or later he’ll have to do something for money. They didn’t have much. Now Mrs. Monroe and the kid are at the St. Mary’s shelter.”

One of the boys, taking a break to drink some water, overheard. “You talking about Lamar’s dad?”

Ryan nodded. “You know him?”

“Yeah. He used to work with my old man till he quit his job and took off.”

“Has your dad mentioned anything about where he might have gone?” Jack asked him.

The boy regarded him warily. “He ain’t in no trouble, is he?”

“Not the way you mean,” Ryan assured him.

“Then you might try checking around down by the docks. Sometimes you can pick up day work there. My dad said that’s what he told him. He said old man Monroe just needed some time to think.”

Jack gave the boy a high-five. “Thanks, Rick. I owe you.”

“Does that mean you’ll give me another lesson on that fancy computer of yours?” the boy asked hopefully.

“Meet me at my place at five. I can spend an hour or so with you then,” Jack promised.

A grin split the boy’s face. “All right!”

Jack shook his head as the gawky kid, who kept tripping over his own feet, moved back onto the basketball court. “Never seen a kid so eager to learn. I find him on my doorstep half a dozen times a week, hoping I’ll show him how to do things on the computer. He’s getting so he can do a search and turn up things I never even thought to look for. Pretty soon, he’ll be giving me lessons.”

“You think there’s anything to his suggestion about looking for Lamar’s dad down by the docks?”

“No way of telling till I go down there. I’ll go now, then stop by the pub and let you know what I find out. When’s the kid’s surgery?”

“It’s not scheduled yet, but I imagine it’ll be in the next week or two. It’s a risky procedure. The boy needs to know his father’s there for him.”

“Then we’ll find a way to make that happen,” Jack said confidently.

“You need a retainer?” Ryan asked.

“No way. This one’s on me. Just make sure there’s a cold ale waiting for me when I get there later.”

“Thanks, Jack.”

“Hey, not a problem. I can’t have the neighborhood thinking you’re the only good guy around. I need my share of those babes who are always circling around you. Hell, I’d even take one of Rory’s rejects.”

Ryan laughed. “You pick out any woman in the pub and I’ll introduce you.”

“I saw a redhead in there the night before Thanksgiving...” Jack began.

Ryan stiffened. “Except her,” he said.

Jack’s gaze narrowed. “What’s up with that? Is she married?”

“No.”

“Engaged?”

“No.”

A grin spread across Jack’s face. “Yours?”

Ryan hesitated, then sighed. “Could be.” Whether he wanted it that way or not.

* * *

Maggie walked into the pub shortly after three in the afternoon lugging a laptop, a portable printer and a package of paper. Rory came out of the kitchen, took one look at her and rushed over to take some of the load.

“You trying to get a hernia?” he demanded. “What is all this stuff?”

“I wanted to make a point with Ryan. Is he around?”

“He went by the shelter. He should be back soon.” He paused in the middle of the room. “Where do you want this?”

“In his office,” she said at once.

Rory shook his head. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“Nobody goes in Ryan’s office without an invitation.”

“Why is that?”

“Because he says so,” Rory said simply. “And since something tells me he’s not going to be real happy to see all this fancy technological stuff, anyway, maybe you better not start off on the wrong foot by busting in there when he’s not around.”

Maggie considered the advice. “You could have a point. Set it on the end of the bar. There’s bound to be a plug nearby.”

Rory shook his head again. “If I were you, I’d pick a real dark corner.”

Maggie laughed. “The bar will do.”

He shrugged. “Suit yourself. Hope you don’t mind if I go back in the kitchen. I want to be out of the line of fire when he gets back. Can I get you a drink or something before I go?”

“No, thanks. Besides, I worked the bar last night. If I get thirsty, I can fix something.”

A look of delight split his round face. “Taking over here, are you? That’s the girl. Poor Ryan’s head must be spinning.”

She grinned at that. “I certainly hope so.”

“Well, I’ll leave you to it, then. You need any advice from a man who knows him well, you come to me. There’s little about Ryan Devaney that I don’t know. He’s the best friend a man could have. And something tells me if a woman can win his heart, he’ll be the best husband, as well. The trick lies in the winning. You won’t do it overnight.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Maggie said, finding it interesting that Rory’s impression so closely mirrored Father Francis’s.

While she waited for Ryan to arrive, she set up the computer and printer, then opened her business finance program. She began filling in all the inventory categories she could think of for a pub. Satisfied that she’d hit on most of them, she looked up to find Ryan standing over her, a scowl on his face.

“What’s this?” he inquired, as if she’d brought a dangerous foreign object into his pub.

“A free demonstration,” she said cheerfully. “Come see.”

“I don’t have the time. I’ve a business to run. And I’m getting a late start as it is.”

“What I’m suggesting would make it easier,” she said.

“Can it serve drinks?”

She frowned at the mocking question. “No, but—”

“Then I’m not interested,” he said flatly. He reached for an apron and tied it around his waist, then vanished to the far end of the bar, leaving her to stare after him.

“Don’t mind Ryan,” Father Francis advised, appearing out of nowhere and sliding onto the stool next to her. “He’ll come around. After a childhood that was filled with the unexpected, he works hard to keep things steady and familiar, now that he’s grown. It takes him a while to warm up to new people and even longer to listen to new ideas.”

“And I’m pushing at the boundaries of his comfort zone,” Maggie assessed thoughtfully, considering his reaction from a fresh perspective. “Maybe I should back off.”

“Now, why would you be wanting to do such a thing?” Father Francis demanded. “Change is what keeps us all alive. Ryan does too little of it.”

“If you’re so fond of change, why don’t you invite her over to the church to meddle in your business?” Ryan inquired sourly as he plunked an Irish coffee down in front of the priest. “I imagine you have ancient systems there that could use an overhaul.”

“Perhaps I will,” Father Francis said readily. “In fact, I think I’ll see if we have the budget for it. Would you be interested, Maggie?”

Maggie was more interested in the fact that Ryan’s expression turned even darker at the priest’s acceptance of his challenge. Still, she turned to Father Francis. “I’d be happy to take a look and see if I have any suggestions,” she told him. “The consultation’s on the house. After that, we’ll see if there’s anything I can contribute, and discuss terms.”

“Well, isn’t that just perfect?” Ryan snapped, retreating to the opposite end of the bar, where he slammed a few mugs around so hard, it was amazing that they didn’t shatter.

Maggie sighed. “I’d better talk to him. I owe him an apology for pushing so hard.”

“No, child,” Father Francis said at once. “He’s the one who needs to apologize. Give him a minute. He’ll come around on his own. He knows when he’s being unreasonable, and he’s generally honest enough to admit it.”

Maggie sat back down, but the wait seemed interminable. Finally, though, Ryan approached the two of them with a look of remorse on his face. “Okay, I was out of line.” He frowned at the priest. “But you were deliberately pushing my buttons, and you know it.”

“Do I now?” Father Francis said, his expression innocent.

“Of course you do. You take great pleasure in it, which makes me wonder why I put up with you.” He turned to Maggie. “As for you, I truly am sorry. I know you were trying to be helpful. It’s just that I don’t need that kind of help. I’ve been running this place for a while now. I know how to do it. It might not be the most efficient operation, but it works for me.”

“And there couldn’t possibly be a better way?” she challenged.

He grinned. “There could be, but I’m satisfied with things as they are. When I’m not, I’ll let you know.”

Maggie knew a brick wall when she slammed into one. “I’ll be waiting to hear from you.”

“When it comes to this particular topic, you could be in for a long wait,” he warned.

“I have the time,” she told him.

“And why is that? Shouldn’t you be starting that search for a new job?”

“Not just yet. I’m taking the next few weeks to think things through and decide what I want to do. I have an MBA that’s going to waste.”

He frowned. “Just so you don’t get it into your head that this is the place to put it to use,” he said. “You’re overqualified.”

“Okay, okay, I get it. I’ll back off,” she said, then murmured under her breath, “for now.”

He scowled. “I heard that.”

Maggie beamed at him. “Just a fair warning,” she said cheerfully as she slid off her bar stool.

“You leaving?” he asked.

She grinned at the faint disappointment in his tone. “You should be so lucky. Actually, I’m getting an apron. In case you haven’t noticed, the place is packed, and Maureen and Juan have their hands full again.”

Ryan shook his head. “A lot of people think a vacation is best spent on a beach in the Caribbean this time of year, not waiting tables in a pub.”

“I’m not one of them,” she said, grabbing an order pad and heading for a table of couples across the room.

“Bless you,” Maureen said as she passed Maggie. “I don’t know where everyone came from tonight, but they’re all tired and cranky and starving.”

“More holiday shopping,” Maggie suggested. “And it’s only going to get worse when desperation sets in.”

“Now there’s a cheerful prospect,” Maureen said, lifting her gaze heavenward. “Saints protect us from the truly desperate.”

Maggie took orders from the three couples, along with a request for the band that was just setting up. She left that and a tip with the lead guitarist, then took the dinner order in to Rory.

The cook beamed when he saw her. “You’re still in one piece, I see. Tell me, did you win Ryan over to your way of thinking?”

“Hardly. The man’s head is like a rock.”

“Aye, that it is. I’ve been wanting to experiment a bit with the menu, but all of my pleas have fallen on deaf ears,” he said, sounding resigned.

“Speaking of changes to the menu, where’s Rosita and her recipe for enchiladas?” Maggie asked.

“I sent her home,” Rory said.

Maggie regarded him indignantly. “Just like that? She needs the job.”

He frowned at her. “Did I say anything about firing her? Her ankles were swelling. And don’t you be telling Ryan, either. There’s no need for him to dock her pay. As you said yourself, she needs every bit of it to prepare for the baby.”

Relieved, Maggie grinned at him. “Why, Rory, I believe the reports of your temper have been greatly exaggerated. You’re a softie.”

“Only when it comes to mothers-to-be, so don’t be getting any ideas about testing my patience,” he said. “I expect the waitstaff around here to deliver my meals to the tables while they’re still hot. Maureen’s order’s ready. You can take it.”

“Yes, sir,” she said, loading her tray with the steaming plates and heading for the door.

For the rest of the evening, there was little time for idle chitchat with anyone. As she rushed from table to table, Maggie felt Ryan’s steady gaze following her. Just before midnight he nabbed her arm and dragged her to a stool at the end of the bar.

“Sit. Maureen and Juan can handle things from here on out. Have you eaten a bite all evening?” he asked.

“No time,” she said, sighing as she kicked off her shoes.

He uttered a sound of disgust and headed for the kitchen. He came back with a plump ham and cheese sandwich and a bowl of Rory’s thick potato soup.

“I can’t eat at this hour,” she protested.

“You can and you will,” he said. “I will not be responsible for sending you home half-starved. I won’t risk Nell and Garrett’s wrath coming down on my head.”

Maggie grinned at him. “I’m a grown woman. I take responsibility for my own actions.”

“Do they know that? Aren’t these the very same parents who worry frantically if you’re so much as a few minutes late? Didn’t you tell me that yourself on the first night you came through my doors?”

“At least there’s one thing I’ve said that you listened to,” Maggie retorted.

“I hear every word out of your mouth,” Ryan countered. “I just pick and choose what to ignore.” He gestured toward the untouched sandwich. “Now when you’ve eaten that, I’ll drive you home.”

“I have my car.”

“Then I’ll follow you home. It’s too late for you to be driving around the streets of Boston all alone. And yes, I know you’re a grown woman, but you’re not a foolish one. You’ll accept my offer and be gracious about it. Otherwise, I’ll be the one worrying through the night.”