As Bad As Can Be (13 page)

Shay sighed and leaned against the wooden rails, guilt washing over him. “Dev, it wasn't anything I planned.”

“It just worked out that way? When I asked you to take care of my sister, I didn't mean
take care
of her.”

“No.” Shay held his gaze. “But I figure that's between her and me. We make our own decisions.” And Mallory's decision had been to let him walk away.

“I don't suppose it occurred to you to just keep your hands off of her, did it?”

“Dammit, Dev! Do you think I just jumped your sister so I could notch my belt? You know me better than that.”

“I thought I did. I thought I could trust you to look after her, not to jerk her around.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“Oh come on, do you think she looks like death warmed over because of the bar?”

“What did she tell you?”

“She didn't tell me anything. She didn't have to. I haven't asked yet, but you'd better believe I will before I leave,” he said grimly.

Shay closed his eyes. “Look, Dev, I didn't just hop into bed with your sister, okay? I wanted to, believe me, but I did my best to avoid it.”

“Bullshit. The whole reason I asked you to look in
on her was because I trusted you, because I knew you had sisters. You think I don't know what she looks like or how she works guys over? I thought I could depend on you to look after her, not let her tease you into taking her and boffing her brains out.”

Shay grabbed the front of Dev's shirt. “I don't give a good goddamn if you're her brother, you do not have the right to talk about her like that,” he snarled, the fingers of his free hand curling into a fist. He registered Dev's smile an instant before he would have thrown the punch, and froze. “Nice,” he said, tapping Dev on the shoulder with his still clenched fist.

Dev grinned and straightened his shirt. “Thanks. It's a good thing you reacted the way you did or I'd have been compelled to kick the crap out of you. Big brother's prerogative. That doesn't mean that I'm still not a little bit pissed you've been sleeping with my sister, but at least I don't have to stomp you.”

“Look, it's not something I'm proud of. But…she got to me,” he said simply. “I really want to see this turn into something, except she's got these walls up a mile high and I don't know how to get past them.” He dragged a hand through his hair in frustration.

“Well, I'll be damned,” Dev said slowly. “You really did fall for her.”

“I care about her,” Shay corrected.

Dev studied him. “Oh, yeah, you've definitely got the look. You're in love with her.”

Fury flowed through him, then acceptance. Then frustration. “It doesn't matter how I feel. She's so busy shutting me out that I can't find a way in,” he said tensely. “I mean, what is it with her?”

Out on the bay, a pelican dove into the water and emerged with a wriggling fish in its bill. Dev bounced
his hand lightly on the wooden rail. “I don't even know where to start, Shay. She didn't have a great time growing up. We weren't raised in a storybook family like yours.”

“That much I know from the little she's told me.”

“Yeah?” Dev asked in surprise. “Well if she's told you anything, you've gotten a hell of a lot further with her than anyone else has.”

“A line here or there doesn't cut it, Dev, not when she tells me to leave every night because she wants to keep it light.”

“Well it's obviously not so light for her, you've only got to look at her to know that.”

“Past a certain point, it doesn't matter what I know. She's got to admit it to herself and she's got to let me in.”

“Is that what this fight's about? Some kind of ultimatum?” Dev shook his head. “I don't know beans about relationships, that much should be obvious, but I do know Mallory. She's got good reasons for being the way she is, Shay. You can't force her, though. She'll tell you when she's ready.”

“Will she? Or will she just do her lone wolf thing?”

Dev propped his folded elbows on the railing and eyed Shay. “I never figured you for a quitter.”

“Is that my cue to try to throw another punch at you?”

“No, that's me telling you to take another run at her. Don't tell me her saying no is all it took for you to walk away. I seem to remember you telling me that stubbornness is an O'Connor family trait.”

Shay nodded.

“Well then do your genes proud,” Dev said. He
nodded toward the waterfront. “Now let's go see if we can catch the rest of the Penn State game.”

 

T
HE JUKEBOX WAS SILENT
, the doors were locked, and the patrons were long gone when Mallory led Dev up the inner stairs to her apartment, her shoes dangling from one hand.

“Man, I'd rather be framing up a two story house in a day than trying to do what you do,” Dev said as she unlocked the door. “I am beat.”

“That's what you get for dancing with Belinda all night.” She turned on a lamp and sank down onto the couch with a sigh. “Still think the Bad Girls are a bad idea?”

“Hey, Belinda's a nice woman.” Dev dropped into the chair.

“Well, she's crushed out on you completely.”

“Hardly. By the end of the night she was telling me about some jerk named Dominic.”

Mallory grimaced and lay back against the pillows. “He's her idiot of a boyfriend. About every other week she vows to leave him in the dust, but she keeps going back.”

“Maybe she cares about him.”

“Yeah, well he doesn't care about her, at least not the way she needs to be cared about.”

“You never know what goes on between two people. It must work for Belinda or she wouldn't stay with him. The day it stops working will be the day she walks.”

“Thanks for explaining that concept,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “Is that how it is with you and Melissa?”

“I haven't figured it out yet. But I'm working on
it.” He got up and walked toward the kitchen. “You got anything to drink around here?”

“There's beer and soft drinks in the fridge. You can grab me one while you're at it.” She massaged her foot. “Anyway, the problem with relationships like Belinda's is that they don't work, and it's people like me that wind up listening to the fallout.”

“Which you do, I hear,” he said, raising his voice so she could hear him. “Belinda spent a lot of time telling me how you were the best boss she's ever worked for and how understanding you've been when she's gotten upset.”

Mallory shifted uncomfortably. “Hey, if that's what I need to do to get her in shape to work, I'll do it. She's a top-notch bartender most of the time.”

“She also told me you sent her home one night and worked the whole shift alone.” He walked out carrying a couple of cans of cola.

“So I'm a sap. What of it?” She took the drink he proffered and leaned back on the couch to crack it open.

“Nice to see you're not entirely bah humbug when it comes to relationships,” he said, wandering over to her shelving unit to turn on the stereo.

“Look, relationships are a pain in the neck. They're a complication and waste of time, which is why I avoid them at all costs.”

Dev leaned against the kitchen door and looked at her. “You're so tough,” he mocked gently.

“What?” she frowned.

“All this talk about flying solo. If you don't need anyone and you're tough as nails, then how is it you've looked like hell all weekend?”

The sharp stab of betrayal caught her by surprise. “I see you've been talking with Shay again.”

“Come on, Mal,” he said. “I could see what was going on the minute he walked up at lunch.”

“Did he tell you it was over?”

“Just that you were trying like hell to make it that way. My question is why?”

She gave him a derisive look. “You grew up in the same house as me last time I checked. Why do you think?”

“Are you really going to let a couple of screwed-up people determine the course of your whole life?” He stalked back to his chair. “I'd have thought you were smarter than that.”

“Hey, I'm not the one who's trying to go back and rewrite Mom and Dad's story,” she flung at him.

He looked at her levelly. “I'm going to swallow that because I know you only take cheap shots when you're scared.”

“Don't go playing big brother on me, Dev,” she said hotly.

“Mal, it's not something I play. For better or worse, it's who I am,” he said simply. “You think what happened with Mom and Dad just rolled off my back? I was there for it, too, you know. I'm just trying to live my life on my terms, not theirs.”

“By trying to hook up with the worst possible match you can find?”

He gave her a hard look. “I'm trying to go with my gut. And if I do marry Melissa, I'll expect you to respect that.”

“Sorry,” she muttered.

“Anyway, we were supposed to be talking about
you before you pushed us off the topic. You're very good at that, you know.”

“It's intentional, brother dear. There's nothing to talk about.”

Dev raised an eyebrow. “If Shay doesn't matter to you, then why does it bother you to talk about him?”

“I thought women were supposed to be the ones who were obsessed with talking about their feelings,” she snapped, sitting up and thumping her feet on the floor. “Between you and Shay, I can't catch a break.”

“Mal, he cares about you. And you can dodge it all you want, but you care about him. Make whatever decision you want to about him, but make it an honest one. You owe it to both of you.”

T
HE LILTING STRAINS
of pennywhistle and fiddle died away, to be replaced by whoops and applause. The end of another successful music evening at O'Connor's, Shay thought, watching the band take their bows. It hadn't been easy to convince the family that music was the right way to go with O'Connor's, but for going on three years he'd been filling up the tavern on Sunday nights with Irish music, blues, jazz and folk.

Most nights, listening to the bands made him itch to open the music club that he dreamed of, the one that would let him tread closer to the edge, taking advantage of Newport's location to bring in emerging talent touring in Manhattan and Boston.

This night, he idly watched the band members take down their equipment, his mind preoccupied with Mallory. Dev had accused him of quitting, of throwing out ultimatums. Sure, he'd made mistakes. He'd made the assumption that her feelings had to be as strong as his or they didn't count, that she had to be willing to act on his timeline.

Shay put his hands on the edge of the bar and leaned. He'd been wrong and he knew it. Still, what was the hope for their relationship if she didn't try to meet him partway? He didn't even need halfway, Shay thought, shaking his head at himself. He'd settle for
having her throw him a bone. But she wasn't even willing to do that.

“What the hell does she think she's up to?” Colin snarled under his breath.

Shay jolted. It was as though his brother was reading his mind. Then he looked up to see the direction of Colin's gaze. At the hostess stand, Fiona laughed with a stocky blonde who looked like he'd chosen his clothes from a trendy ad, her red-gold braid snaking wildly down her back. When Trendy Boy held out a napkin, she paused, then wrote something on it. He made a show of holding it to his heart, then blew her a kiss and walked out the door.

Fiona shook her head wonderingly and laughed again as she tripped toward the bar on light feet.

“Conducting your love life on the job, Fee?” Colin asked with an edge to his voice as she walked up.

Her smile faded and her eyes cooled. “And what business is it of yours, Colin O'Connor?”

“O'Connor's is a tavern, not a date factory. You're here to work.”

She turned to Shay. “And do you think I was out of line?”

Shay shrugged. “If you did it every week, maybe, but it isn't a big deal.”

“Who is he, anyway?” Colin asked. “He looks like some lame guy who spends more time worrying about his wardrobe than anything else.”

“I met him the other night at Bad Reputation. He tracked me down,” she said in bemusement, glancing back at the door. “I told him I worked at a pub and he found me.”

“I'll bet he did,” Colin said grimly.

Her smile vanished. “And since when has my love
life interested you?” she rounded on him. “Jealous? Or is it that good girls aren't supposed to date? Is that it? I've a right to be a real person, Colin, and if you can't deal with it that's your problem.” She picked up her tray and stomped away.

“You really are smooth,” Shay murmured.

“I can do without the commentary, thanks.”

“So why do you care who she dates?” Shay asked mildly.

“Because she's too naive to realize that that poser is just hanging around hoping to get laid.” Colin thumped a glass down on the bar so hard it cracked with a sharp tink.

“Easy on the glassware.” Shay eyed him. “You're awfully protective of her.”

“Oh, like you aren't? She's like our sister.”

“So you say, although I don't see you that worried over Shana.”

Colin gave a short laugh. “Shana can take care of herself. God help the man who gets on the wrong side of her.”

“You know what I think, little brother?” Shay said casually. “I think you've got a thing for Fiona.”

“You're out of your mind,” Colin snarled.

“But I'm not wrong.”

“And since when have you been such an expert on relationships? I don't notice you rolling with joy lately.”

Shay looked crossly at him, aware that he was right. He sat here waiting, hoping that Mallory might come through the door and want him again when he'd demonstrated to her that he expected things to happen on his terms or else. She'd be out of her mind to go along with it. And he'd been totally unfair to suggest it.

Abruptly Shay untied his apron and turned to Colin. “It's nearly midnight. Can you handle the place until closing?”

“What?” Colin blinked at him. “Yeah, sure. Where are you going?”

“It's about time one of us showed some smarts about women.”

 

T
HE
S
UNDAY NIGHT CROWD
was thinner than it had been in previous weeks. Maybe the chill was keeping people in, Mallory speculated, absently filling a drink order with efficiency.

Making a mental note to check the
Farmer's Almanac,
she filled a drink order with absent efficiency. “So what do you think, is it going to be a mild winter?” she asked the rawboned customer as she handed him his beer.

“I sure hope so. If spring started tomorrow, it wouldn't be too soon for me.”

“I'm with you,” she smiled. Her smile slipped a notch when she saw Shay walk through the door. All day her mind had been on her conversation with Dev. She'd managed to distract herself somewhat by taking him for breakfast at her favorite greasy spoon just off the waterfront, then taking him around the mansions. Much to her surprise, he'd never seen them. For herself, she found the experience different—now, instead of being a sightseer, she was a local showing off her history, and the history seeped through her.

All too soon, though, she was hugging him goodbye and packing him into his truck to go back to Baltimore. All too soon, she was left to face her thoughts alone.

Honesty, Dev had said. If she was honest, she cared
for Shay. He made her feel good without making her feel smothered. But whether she could give him what he wanted was a whole other question. Was he asking about her past because he cared or because, like a little boy, he wanted to take the back of the clock off and see what was inside? And what happened once he saw, would the clock stop being a fascination? It made her palms sweat to think about opening up to him. You did that, you got wrecked; she'd seen that firsthand.

I'm trying to live my life on my terms, not on theirs,
Dev's words echoed in her mind. On her terms. Maybe it was time to start thinking about that. It wasn't like her involvement with Shay was anything really serious, she reasoned. Why let her family history scare her away from a good thing? She could bail at any time, any time at all. It could feel so good…

“Belinda?” she said slowly. “Can you close up? I need to do something.”

“I—” Belinda turned away from the customer she was chatting up and caught sight of Shay. “Sure.”

Mallory slipped under the walkthrough and walked toward Shay, her eyes unwavering on his. She stopped in front of him. “Hey.”

“Hey yourself. Did Dev go home?”

Mallory nodded. “This afternoon. I was glad he could stay for a while. It was good to see him.”

“Yeah,” Shay said and paused. “Listen, do you need to be down here until close or can you get away? I was hoping we could talk.”

She gave him a sharp look, then nodded slowly. “Belinda's taking care of things. Let's go upstairs.”

The thumping of their feet on the wooden treads echoed the hammering of her heart. When they
stepped into the living room, all she could do was think wildly that she wasn't ready.

As soon as they were inside, she was headed for the kitchen. “Can I get you something to drink?” Something to hold, something to at least keep her hands busy.

Shay caught her arm and drew her to the couch. “No serving. You're off the clock. Sit down and relax.”

She sat, but with muscles tense with nerves.

Shay took a breath and turned to her. “I wanted to talk with you about the other night.”

Tension strung her tight. “I guess I wanted to talk with you about the same thing.”

“Me first,” he said simply, reaching out to take her hand. “What I have to say is short and sweet: I had no business handing you an ultimatum the other night. I meant it when I said a relationship is a two-way street, but that means that I don't have the right to determine how things progress any more than you do.”

Mallory let out a breath she hadn't been aware of holding. “I wasn't trying to be difficult. I just…”

“I know.” He raised her hand to kiss her fingers.

Mallory stirred. “So what does this mean? Do we go back to where we were?”

“That's going backward, don't you think?” he asked softly.

Anxiety tightened her voice. “Look, Shay, I don't do relationships. I never have. Frankly they scare the hell out of me. People start talking to me about opening up, my usual M.O. is to walk away.” He started to speak and she raised her hand at him. “Let me finish.” She took a deep breath. “My usual M.O. isn't
working that well with you. You've gotten under my skin and I don't know what to do about it. You want me to open up? This is about as open as I know how to be right now.” She swallowed. “I don't know if it's enough, but it's all I can do.”

“I don't think anyone's keeping score.” His eyes bored into hers. So blue they were almost black, she thought driftingly. Blue enough to dive into, like the ocean water she loved. And when he leaned in to kiss her, she kept her eyes open until the last minute, watching his.

Her first thought when his lips brushed hers was
oh, this is right.
Her second was
I want more.
Her third was
now.
It was like sucking on an Atomic Fireball—an instant of sweet, then a quick tang, then a roar of heat.

When she would have clutched at him and torn at his clothes, though, he held back. “Huh-uh,” he murmured, sliding his hands under her. “Tonight we take it slow.”

Before she could react, he had scooped her up and was carrying her to the bedroom. She pressed her face against his neck to breathe in his scent. Then he laid her on the feather duvet of her bed.

Mallory watched his face, intense with concentration as he undressed her. When she would have moved to help him, he stayed her hands. “Relax,” he whispered. “Let me do for you.”

The light from the living room shone into the bedroom, throwing Shay's shadow against the wall. She watched his silhouette as he unbuttoned his shirt, sliding the cloth off his shoulders. The shadows threw his features into high relief, making him look like some
Greek god as he unbuckled his belt and stepped out of his jeans.

When he came to her, his hands slid over her, so softly that he barely skimmed the skin. The soft brush awakened all her nerve endings, making her tremble. Warm and tempting, his lips followed his hands, cutting a path of sensation across all areas of her body.

She reached down to find him trembling and hard, but the urgency was curiously absent. Instead all was tender and slow, gentle and measured. When he slid into her, his eyes on hers as she cradled his face, it was less about connecting in body and more in mind. He stroked, she accepted, but both of them were tuned into feeling the other's pleasure. And when they both spiraled up to the pinnacle and dropped off, it was together, and they held tight to share the quaking glory.

Later, after they were near drifting off, Shay stirred and made to rise. “I'm going to head out and let you sleep.”

“No.” Mallory put her hand on his chest, her eyes huge and dark. “Stay. I want you to stay.” She gave a shaky laugh. “Don't get too alarmed if I get up and start wandering around, though. And don't expect to sleep too much, mostly because I won't sleep too much.”

He slid his hands down her body. “Who said I was worried about sleep?”

 

T
HE ALLEY WAS NARROW
and pooled in shadow. Fear clogged her throat. “Mallory, come on.” It was her father's voice, calling to her from the shadows. With a hammering heart, she stepped into the narrow mouth and began to walk toward the sound of his voice. She
didn't see anyone, though, just the shadowy bulk of trash bins and rubbish, and the darker rectangles of doorways. She tried to cry for him to wait, but the words came out in a whisper.

“Mallory, come on.” Again the voice, this time impatient and more distant. She tried to hurry, but the pavement was broken underfoot, with loose stones and cracks. Behind her, she heard a rattle of noise and a snuffling as something stirred in one of the doorways.

Stones clicked and she heard the heavy, dragging tread of feet, felt the vibration of something unimaginably large thudding into the ground as it came after her. Adrenaline vaulted through her. She wanted to scream, but only a faint whimper came out. Faster, if she could just go faster she'd catch up with her daddy and everything would be okay. She broke into a run, bouncing off things she couldn't see, tripping and falling. Pain rocketed through her but the fear was greater and somehow she scrambled to her feet to go on.

In the shadows, it moved inexorably toward her, knocking trash cans out of the way so that the racket almost masked her father's voice. “Mallory, come on.” The words were faint now, as though he were a very long way away, perhaps around a corner. Perhaps she'd taken a wrong turn.

She opened her mouth to scream for him, but no sound emerged. She was panting now in fear, unable to run back to her last island of safety, unable to go forward. It was nearer now, she could hear the harsh rattle of its breathing. Her legs were leaden. There had to be a way to escape but she couldn't see, she could no longer hear her father, everything was dark. It was going to get her, she thought in despair. The hairs on the back of her neck prickled as she felt something
brush against her skin and she was bolting forward, she was screaming, she was—sitting bolt upright in bed crying out. Hands were on her, as in the dream, and she fought to escape them until gradually awareness returned. It was Shay, she realized, holding her while her heart thudded in her chest, while her breath still came in gasps.