Hold Me Close (11 page)

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Authors: Shannyn Schroeder

BOOK: Hold Me Close
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Maggie gulped down a horrible cup of coffee in her apartment before heading down to talk to Ryan. She’d have to ask Mary how she made such good coffee. Walking through the back door of the bar had begun to feel second nature, much like it had five years ago. Maggie paused and let the enormity of that sink in.
She was getting her life back.
With an extra spring in her step, she strode to the office door and knocked. When Ryan called out, she walked in.
“Hey, Maggie, what are you doing here?”
“I want to talk to you.”
“Shoot.”
She sat in front of him and placed her folder on his desk. He continued to stare at his computer screen. “I want you to listen.”
She paused, waiting for him to look at her. When he realized she was silent, he turned away from the computer. He leaned back in his chair and folded his hands across his stomach.
“I’d like to talk about Saint Patrick’s Day.”
“Go ahead.”
“I know you despise the idea of selling green beer, but it’s a Chicago tradition.”
“Not an O’Leary’s tradition.”
“True. But you don’t have to do everything the way Dad did. Sometimes things need to change.”
“Maggie, I’m trying to be patient, but you don’t know anything about running the bar.”
“That’s because you’ve kept me and everyone else out of the loop. You like to handle it all. I’m surprised you let Colin do anything.” She took a breath. This was going in the wrong direction. She pushed her folder toward him. “I did some research.”
“On what?”
“Bars in the area. The number of customers expected to be out drinking on Saint Paddy’s Day.”
He flipped the folder open and looked at her chart. “How did you get this information? Why would any bar give you their numbers?”
She winked. “You underestimate my ability to charm anyone. I told the owners I was a reporter doing a story on Saint Paddy’s Day in Chicago and how it impacts local businesses. I might’ve said I was writing for a trade magazine.”
Ryan shook his head slowly. “You and Moira would make a deadly combination.” He sighed and closed the folder. “Give me the summary.”
“Most bars see an uptick in business after the parade. Those bars that appear to be more
Irish
do better because people think they’re getting some authentic experience. Among those making the most money are those selling green beer. It’s a gimmick, but it’s one customers like.”
“It’s still bullshit.”
“I agree. But even Dad could understand playing the game to increase the bank account. Do I need to point out the O’Leary sign hanging on that cow’s neck by the bar? Dad let people think we were related to the woman whose cow started the Great Chicago Fire. Our family wasn’t even in the states then. It’s all part of the game.”
Ryan stared at her. For the first time, she felt like he really saw her.
“I’ll think about it. “
“All we need to do is add food coloring to each glass. They can order whatever beer they want, except for the dark ones, obviously. Food coloring won’t change the taste. I don’t know why everyone keeps telling me how it tastes like crap.”
“Because most bars use the cheapest stuff they can and color it by the keg.”
“Then we can be extra special. We just need to get food coloring.” She stood and left the office. Ryan ultimately might still decide not to go with green beer, but at least he wouldn’t be likely to dismiss her again.
She went back up to her apartment to continue working on her portfolio. Chiming in on bar business was fine, but she didn’t plan on working there forever. Moira had a point; she needed a plan and it was time to make some choices.
Shane walked into his parents’ house and in an instant knew all three of his sisters were there. An argument was escalating in the living room and the pitch would soon hit an octave only animals could hear.
“Quiet!” his dad bellowed.
His dad’s yell was like a tremor through the house. Without being in the room, Shane was able to picture all three girls frozen in place, mouths hanging open. There had been a time it would’ve worked on him as well. Now he didn’t have much to fight about when it came to his sisters. Being the oldest, and only boy, had its perks.
“What the hell is going on here?” Dad asked as Shane rounded the corner.
All three girls started in again, pointing fingers at each other, all saying little more than gibberish. Beyond the bellow, Dad never knew how to handle this. Where was their mom?
Shane whistled loudly to get them to quiet. Then he pointed at Alyson. “You first.”
“I’m only here for dinner and to do a load of laundry and discovered that bossy pants over here”—she pointed at Cara—“decided my box of books and some clothes I had in storage were free game.”
Before the last words were out of Alyson’s mouth, Cara jumped in, pointing a finger at Alyson. “I am not being bossy. I was just trying to settle things between you and Riley. Riley opened your box.”
“I didn’t know it was yours.”
“My name in big black letters on the side didn’t clue you in?”
“Besides, Riley has a point. If you’re not living here, your stuff shouldn’t be here.”
“Who are you to talk? You don’t live here and you still have a bedroom.” Alyson’s arms waved as she yelled at Cara.
“I do too live here. Just not when I’m at school.”
“You live on campus nine months out of the year.”
“But it’s not a permanent residence. I have to move out over the summer; therefore, I cannot bring all of my possessions with me. You, however, have your own apartment.”
Riley, being the little sneak that she was, started drifting farther away from the cluster like no one would notice. Shane knew her well enough to know she probably asked Cara to get involved as a distraction to what the real problem was.
Cara and Alyson continued to argue the finer points of their living arrangements, so Shane pointed at Riley. “What did you do?”
She shrugged. “I found a sweater I liked and she busted me wearing it.”
Clothes. Why was it always clothes that girls fought over? He shook his head and slapped a hand on his dad’s shoulder. “This is all yours.”
Shane went back to the kitchen just as his mom walked through the back door carrying grocery bags. “Shane, honey, you’re here.”
His mother always sounded so happy to see him. “Need help with groceries?”
“That would be fabulous. The trunk’s open.”
She began emptying bags while he went back to the car. He slipped his arms through the plastic bags and hauled them all in one trip. He kicked the door closed behind him and set the bags on the table. His mom was already stirring something in a pan on the stove.
“You’re staying for dinner, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Excellent. I love having you all here at the same time.”
He thought about the O’Learys and their Sunday dinners. Maggie said they ate as an entire family at least once a month. He thought for a minute. The last time all of the Callahans sat down for dinner together had probably been Christmas. Holidays and birthdays were expected family time.
“Maybe we should do this more often.”
“What, honey?”
“Dinner together. All of us.”
She waved a hand. “As much as I would love that, trying to align everyone’s schedules would be insane, don’t you think?”
“Just a thought.”
“I miss when you all lived here. Even if we didn’t eat together, I saw all of you every day. I miss that.”
“Everything okay, Mom?”
“Yes. Go tell your sisters to stop fighting.”
“Already tried. They don’t listen to me now any more than they did when we were kids.”
“What is it this time?”
“Clothes. Again.”
She tsked but ignored the noise from the other room. Shane briefly wondered what had happened to their dad, but then he figured Dad had given up and went to change out of his work clothes.
His mom handed him a spoon. “Stir this.”
He turned to the stove and began stirring the sauce. He sniffed, trying to determine what it was. From the living room, he heard his mother’s sharp voice telling both Riley and Cara that Alyson had every right to leave whatever she needed in
her
house. Moments later, he heard stomping on the stairs, which meant Riley was pissed.
As much as he’d loved moving away from home to be on his own, he missed the noise of his family. There was a certain predictability to it.
His mom came back into the kitchen. “What is this?” he asked.
“Something new. As long as you’re all here, I decided to experiment. You know how your father is. He hates to try different things.”
She lifted the lid on a nearby pot, saw the water boiling, and added pasta.
“Anything else I can help with?”
“No. Have a seat and tell me what’s been happening in your life. You hardly come home anymore.”
He sat at the table and had no idea where to start.
“Are you dating anyone new?”
“Nope.”
She reached across the counter and started slicing a loaf of bread. “Would you tell me if you were?”
“Nope.” He walked over and snatched a piece of bread before giving her a kiss on the cheek. “You’d just pressure me for grandkids. I’m not ready for that.”
“By the time I was your age, I already had two.”
“And you’d also already found the love of your life.” He sat back down at the table.
“Are you sure you haven’t?”
When he didn’t answer, she asked, “How is Maggie doing?”
Shane bit back a sigh. He’d come home to put Maggie out of his head, and here was his mom putting Maggie’s name beside the idea of true love. “She’s okay.”
“Glad to hear. Why don’t you call and invite her to dinner? I haven’t seen her in ages.”
Even with her back to him, Shane knew the scheming look in his mother’s eyes. She’d tried to push him and Maggie together often enough as teens for him to know what she was after. He couldn’t expose Maggie to that. Not in light of their current situation. “She’s probably busy.”
“You could call and see.”
“I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“Are the two of you fighting?” She turned and took a seat across from him.
“No. We both have a lot going on right now.”
Alyson and Riley came into the kitchen then. As they started a new conversation with their mom, Shane couldn’t help but think how much he wanted this for himself. Home and a family. More than he had. Most important, he wanted it with Maggie.
CHAPTER 8
I
t had been days since Maggie talked with Shane. An awful, unsettled feeling consumed her. This wasn’t them. She always talked to Shane. Even when she was thousands of miles away, they talked more than they had this week where they shared a freaking hallway. She began to think that asking him to have sex had been a huge mistake.
He hadn’t been dodging her exactly. They worked together twice and they joked and talked during their shift, but something was off. And they didn’t see each other the rest of the week. Not for a meal or TV or anything. She felt like she was losing her best friend.
Tonight, she’d make it right. She’d let him off the hook. For real. Of course she told him when she asked that it didn’t matter and if he said no, it would be no big deal, but she also knew Shane. He would do almost anything for her. So he was probably trying to figure out how to turn her down without hurting her.
She’d have to reassure him and then find some other guy to have sex with. She shoved that last thought away. Right now, she needed to focus on Shane. She’d heard him come in earlier and bang around his apartment for a while. Since it sounded like he was working, she decided to wait to go over.
And maybe she was a little bit chicken.
She shook her body loose and then straightened her spine. She could do this. As she swung open her door to go to Shane’s apartment, she nearly jumped out of her skin. Shane was standing in the doorway.
“Crap. Don’t do that to me.”
“Do what? I was coming over to see you.”
“So was I.” She stepped back to let him in.
He stared at her as she closed and locked the door. When she turned back, she couldn’t help but smile. He had that effect on her. When he returned a grin of his own, she knew on some instinctual level they would be okay.
“What were you coming over for?” she asked, still procrastinating.
“Come here.” He grabbed her hand and tugged her toward the couch. He pushed her to sit down, but he walked in small circles. “About what you asked the other day, about having sex—”
God, she needed to put him out of his misery. Shane didn’t get uncomfortable around her. Yet, here he was, stumbling over words. “You can forget it. It’s okay.”
“What?”
She sighed and stared at her hands in her lap. “I figured you were trying to tell me I’m crazy without hurting my feelings. You’re obviously uncomfortable.”
“No.” He knelt in front of her and held her hands again. “A little, but it’s not what you think.”
Her eyes met his, and whatever turmoil had been curling in her settled.
“I’ve been giving it serious thought. I know you try to play it off like it’s no big deal, but it is. Deep down, you know it is.” He shifted and sat beside her. “I’ll do it. We’ll do it—or at least try.”
Her heart swelled. If anyone could make her feel normal, it would be Shane.
“But we do it my way.”
The simple words shot through her and offered a bit of excitement. Would Shane be the man from her dream? The bossy, controlling guy?
“Maggie?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you agree?”
“To what exactly?” She hoped she didn’t sound like a complete idiot. Getting turned on when a man expected to have a conversation probably wasn’t a good idea.
“Total honesty. That’s the only way I’ll do this.”
“Of course.”
He grabbed her chin and held her face. “I mean it, Mags. If something makes you uncomfortable or, worse, repulsed, you have to say something. You need to be open and honest and be able to actually talk to me.”
“I talk to you all the time, and I’m always honest with you.”
“But you have to tell me everything. Every. Personal. Detail.” His voice dropped. “Things we’ve never discussed. What you like. What turns you on.” He swallowed hard.
She watched his throat work and almost jumped in his lap and told him. This. Him. Right now. This turned her on. She nodded because she didn’t trust her voice to work.
“You’re sure? Because doing this my way means I’m not just pulling my dick out and looking for a hole. It’ll be a process.”
Now it was her turn to gulp. Although she hadn’t imagined a quickie with Shane, she hadn’t exactly pictured lots of time.
“You’re in?”
“If you are,” she whispered.
His thumb caressed her jaw. “Yeah.”
Her heart rate picked up. She licked her lips and then took a long, slow inhale.
“Then let’s get the worst of it out of the way.”
“Like what?”
“Tell me your triggers. When you were with what’s-his-name in Ireland, what made you stop? What makes you freak out? Besides the smell of whiskey.”
She bit her bottom lip. She’d thought telling Shane what turned her on would be hard? No, coming clean about all of her triggers might make him realize she was crazy. She puffed out her cheeks with a heavy breath.
“My way, Maggie, or we stop completely.”
“I know.” She slid her hands away from his and rubbed them on her thighs. “I’m trying to think. It’s not like I carry a handy list.” Start with the obvious. “I don’t like being closed in. Like trapped.” She closed her eyes. “I sound crazy.”
He patted her thigh. “Not crazy.”
She stared into Shane’s eyes. The intensity she found there grounded her. Even though the next part might’ve been a little embarrassing, she continued. “It needs to be slow.” She swallowed. “Todd was fast, rushed.”
Shane snorted.
“Not like that.” Well, maybe a little like that. “Sometimes hard and fast was okay, before. But it’s one thing I remember from that night. It happened so fast.”
She felt Shane tense next to her, but she forged ahead. “Not rough.” Her voice cracked on that last one.
“Fuck.” The word was barely a whisper, and Shane stood and paced.
This was a bad idea. She pulled her knees up and wrapped her arms around them. This was why she didn’t have this conversation with Ian. Shane already knew what happened, and his reaction still caused a storm of emotion in her. Resting her forehead on her knees, she closed her eyes. She didn’t know what else to say.
Shane wanted to hit something. No, he wanted to destroy it. Preferably Todd McCann. If Shane had had these details years ago, he probably would’ve killed the guy instead of just beating him senseless. He watched Maggie curl into herself while he paced.
As much as it might kill him, he sat back down and put a gentle hand on her back. He forced the words out despite not wanting to go on. “What else?”
Maggie turned her head to the side without lifting it. “I don’t know. As much as I’d like to think I know what will freak me out, I don’t. Just like the whiskey breath. I didn’t see that coming.”
“Fair enough. But when you feel something coming, you have to promise not to brush it aside.”
“Okay.”
“Now tell me what you do want.”
A bright pink spot appeared on the cheek he could see. “I thought that was self-explanatory. I know you’ve had sex before.”
“And so have you. But never together.” His heart crashed in his chest. If he couldn’t get through talking about it, he’d never be able to do it.
“So now you want to know what turns me on?”
His mouth became a desert. He bit his tongue to make things work. “It would help.”
She laughed. Maybe it was more of a snicker. “Shane Callahan, looking for a cheat sheet. I never would’ve expected that. I thought Casanovas like you just
knew
what to do. Maybe explored your way through being a master of women’s bodies.”
As she joked, she opened up, kicking her legs out and leaning back on the couch.
“I can explore with the best of them. I was trying to take it easy on you.”
“I think I can handle you.”
This was where they were comfortable—flirting and kidding—but he knew it wouldn’t be enough to get them through. “Seriously. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. I assume kissing is okay?”
She shot him a look. “Of course.”
“Anywhere?”
Her eyes popped for a second, then she nodded.
“Favorite position?”
“I don’t have one.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“I’m not the same person I was years ago. I need to discover who I am now. I don’t want to give you a checklist to follow. It would be too confining.” Her face became stern and she pretended to hold a paper and pen. “Kissed neck. Check. Fondled breasts. Check.” She dropped her hands. “I want it to be natural.”
Natural. Like it was natural to have sex with his best friend. But she had a point. He’d never needed a list with any other woman he’d been with, and he hadn’t received any complaints. He was so worried about damaging Maggie after she’d come so far.
“Okay. You win. Natural it is.”
She jumped up from the couch. “Should I get naked here, or are we going to the bedroom?”
His lungs forgot how to operate. Every fantasy he’d ever entertained about being with Maggie flashed through his head.
Suddenly, she was doubled over laughing. “If you could see your face.” She slapped her thigh. “Crap, Shane, even
I
know it wouldn’t be natural for us to strip down this second.”
“Funny,” he finally managed.
“I so got you. Master jokester. That’s me.” She began to dance around.
He slapped her ass playfully. “Better watch it.”
She straightened. “Hmmm . . . I don’t know if that should be on the no or go list.”
“What?”
She bent over slightly and stuck her ass out. “Spank me again and we’ll see if it’s okay or not.”
He tightened his jaw as he rolled his eyes. This girl would be the death of him.
“Lighten up, Shane. If we can’t make jokes, it’s going to get really awkward.”
Again, she had a point. She seemed totally at ease and more like herself than he’d seen her in a long time. “You’re having a lot of fun with this.”
“I’m finally gonna get lucky. Why wouldn’t I have fun?”
Yeah, but no pressure. “It might not go as you plan.”
Her whole face frowned. “True, but I have faith in you.”
He couldn’t stop the smile. He turned to leave.
“You don’t have to go. I promise no more jokes about getting naked.”
He spun to face her, and she pulled up short where she had been following. “I have to wake up early for work in the morning, so I’m going to bed. When I’m ready to get you naked, trust me, there will be no jokes, and I plan to make sure I have plenty of time without worrying about work.”
Her jaw dropped, the glimmer of mischief in her eye gone. This was no game to him, and she needed to understand that. He unlocked her door and let himself out. As he reached for his door, Janet’s opened.
“Hey, Shane. Hold on a minute.” She disappeared back in her apartment.
He leaned against the wall and waited. When she came back, she carried a plate. “This is for you. A welcome-to-the-neighborhood treat. Peanut butter cookies.”
He forced a smile. He hated peanut butter but took the plate to avoid being rude. “Uh, thanks.”
She stepped closer, again only wearing a tank and a pair of shorts. “Do you want to go downstairs and get a drink or something?”
“Thanks for the offer, but I’m headed to bed. I have to get up early for work in the morning.”
“Work? I thought you worked downstairs.”
“I do. A little, but I’m a carpenter by trade, remember?” He knew they had a version of this conversation already.
“Do you think you can do me a little favor?”
“What?”
“I tried turning off one of the radiators, but the knob thingy is stuck.”
“I’ll see what I can do. Lead the way.” He followed her inside her apartment, which was crazy hot. She obviously hadn’t taken his advice and opened a window. The room was dimly lit and what he could see was overstuffed, comfy furniture and an obscene amount of pillows. Total chick place.
“It’s over here. In the bedroom.” She shot him a look over her shoulder. “I talked to the new girl . . . Maggie. She suggested I turn off the bedroom one to control the temperature.”
Thank you, Maggie, for putting me in a position to be in this girl’s bedroom.
As if he needed to be thinking about some other woman when Maggie already filled his head. Shane sidled through the room beside the bed to the radiator. He set the plate of cookies on the dresser.
“Can I get you something to drink while you work?”
“Uh, no. This shouldn’t take long.” He bent over and it sounded like she sighed. He turned the knob without effort. She could’ve at least attempted to make it look difficult. “All set,” he said as he straightened.
“Thank you so much. I’d like to buy you dinner. It’s the least I can do to thank you for your help.”
“It’s no problem. Just being neighborly.” He moved to leave the cramped room.

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