Hold Me Close (8 page)

Maggie forced a smile as she walked back toward the main bar area. The whole way, hiding behind that fake smile, all she could think was how stupid she felt. She’d gotten cocky in her ability to handle being at the bar. She hadn’t even thought about how the smell of whiskey on some stranger’s breath would make her want to vomit. The guys had been nice and fun and hadn’t been rude or disrespectful at all, which made the whole experience frightening. How would she ever be able to handle being at a bar or on a date if she couldn’t anticipate triggers?

As she scrubbed the tables before closing, she felt Shane’s watchful stare again. For a while, it had been like old times. They joked and had fun teasing each other, but they each had a job to do. While she’d been grateful for his presence when she came out of the bathroom, she didn’t want him staring.

She did her best to ignore him and finished cleaning up. There were a couple of people still at the bar, but Jenna waved her off.

“Are you sure?” Maggie asked.

“Yeah. Steve has the door and he’ll walk me to my car. You look wrung out. Go on home.”

“Thanks.” She didn’t want to admit how messed up she felt—not to Jenna, and certainly not to Shane who stood by the back door waiting for her. “I don’t need an escort to go upstairs.”

“I’m aware, but since we’re headed in the same direction, I thought I’d wait for you.” He held the door open and a blast of cold air shot in.

She walked through the door, and Shane was immediately by her side with an arm around her. His heat radiated through her chilled skin. His solid mass offered whatever support she needed.

When they were upstairs, he asked, “How are you?”

“I’m okay. It was rough for a few minutes. Thanks for being there.”
Like always,
she almost added.

“You had me worried. I saw you change.”

“Change?”

“Your color, your expression, your body language. At first I thought the guy did something, but when you smiled before running off, I knew it had to be something else.”

“If I looked that bad, I’m surprised I got such a good tip. I thought my acting had improved over the years.”

Shane reached out and tugged at a lock of hair. “You can’t act in front of me. I know you too well.”

He looked tired, but he smiled in a way that warmed her from the inside. They stood in silence for a minute and the air felt charged, like something was about to happen, but she had no idea what.

She retreated a step and the moment slipped by. “Good night.”

“Sleep well, Magpie.”

She rolled her eyes. “You know I hate when you call me that.”

“That’s why I do it.”

She turned and went into her apartment, completely aware that Shane stood in the hall until she was locked inside.

Although she was tired—having her fear and anxiety triggered like that always caused a crash—Maggie puttered around her apartment, relishing in having new furniture. She put her new sheets on her bed and ran a hand over them. They were the most expensive length of material she’d probably ever owned, but the luxury in bed was worth it. They were so soft she just wanted to roll around naked in them. Then she smiled. She lived alone. She could sleep naked, walk through her apartment naked, eat her cereal in the morning naked. Without any further consideration, she stripped off her clothes.

With a lingering look at the sheets, she moved to the bathroom for a quick shower. Her night of work after moving furniture left her feeling funky. She wanted to really enjoy the experience of the smooth, cool cotton against her bare skin.

After her hot shower and lathering her favorite lotion on her skin, she strolled naked back to bed. She locked her bedroom door, flicked off the light, and crawled under the covers with a sigh.

She turned and rolled and moved her legs to feel as much of the softness as she could. With both her body and mind soothed, she relaxed.

In that weird space between sleep and wakefulness, Maggie’s mind floated. The sensual nature of lying naked in bed aroused her. Every inch of skin exposed and sliding against the cotton.

Her hands slipped across the sheets and back to her body. Gentle fingertips glided over her abdomen and lower. Regardless of who had spooked her earlier, she owned her body.

Her right hand skated over her clit and between her slick folds. In her mind, the big guy made his appearance. Bare-chested, with bulging biceps, he leaned over her.
His
hand pushed into her, pushing her toward orgasm. His thrusts increased, harder and faster.

Her hips bumped up seeking release. A moan rose in her throat, and as she came, her eyes flew open and met the gaze of the man above her. Her heart raced and she sat up in bed.

The face of the man was clear as anything. Shane.

CHAPTER 6

T
he following morning, Maggie lay in bed feeling weird. When she’d fallen asleep the night before, she’d tried to convince herself that her imagination had gotten away from her. Shane had been the last person she’d seen before bed and he was on her mind. His presence in her fantasy meant nothing. Part of her wanted to call Dr. Janzen and confirm that, but she worried she was wrong. What would she do if the dream meant something? What could that something be?

Sunlight peeked through her bedroom window. It was early, but the bit of sunshine at this time told her spring was on its way. She heard movement out in the hall, and based on the jingle of keys and thump of footsteps, she knew it was Shane. She closed her eyes and imagined him in his work clothes leaving for a day on the job with his dad. She pictured his smile and then remembered her dream.

She’d seen Shane shirtless before. They’d spent too many summers together for her not to notice. Her friend was hot. She knew that. She wasn’t one of those oblivious women who didn’t appreciate men. But had she ever thought about Shane naked and sexy?

Nothing came to mind. Shoving out of bed, she decided it was a silly thing. Shane would probably have a laugh over it. She brushed her teeth and dressed. Moira was coming over that afternoon to help her think through career options, so she figured she should have some ideas.

Mary would be downstairs doing her morning prep, so Maggie decided to snag a cup of coffee there instead of making her own. She grabbed a mug and stepped out her door. As she exited the building, she almost walked into Shane.

“Uh, hi.” Her damn cheeks were turning red and she would’ve given anything to not be picturing him naked right now. “Thought you were gone to work.”

“I was. Forgot my tool belt.” He shook his head.

That’s when Maggie saw how tired he looked. She wanted to reach out, but another flash of his smiling eyes over her as she came rolled through her. “Have a good day,” she choked out, and ran down the stairs.

“You too,” he called to her back.

She needed to get rid of those images or she would lose her best friend. Walking around embarrassed and unable to interact with him would kill her. She’d never felt awkward with him and she didn’t like it.

She ducked in the back door of the bar. This time of day, she needed to use the door that led to the back hall. The kitchen wouldn’t be open yet. Only a few lights had been turned on, and the silence was strange. She’d forgotten how quiet the place could be. “Mary?”

“Up here,” Mary called.

Maggie followed the sound of the woman’s voice. Behind the bar, Mary stood over a newspaper.

“You do know you can read that online, right? Most people don’t actually read the paper anymore.”

Mary looked up. “I like the paper—the smell, the feel, the way the ink leaves smudges on my fingers. You don’t get that with a computer. We still get the delivery for all the old guys who come in to hang out. Ryan likes to continue some of the things your dad always did.”

“Sometimes even when he shouldn’t.” Maggie walked behind the bar and poured her coffee.

“How did last night go?”

“Good. We were busy and I made great tips.” No way would she tell Mary about her little freak-out. Mary would immediately tell Ryan, and that couldn’t possibly help.

“I’m glad to hear it.”

Maggie sipped the coffee and watched Mary. The woman would be objective. She wouldn’t jump to conclusions, and while they weren’t close, they were friendly. And she was a woman. “Hey, Mary, can I ask you a personal question?”

“Sure.” Her gaze left the paper again and met Maggie’s face.

“Have you ever had a dream or fantasy about someone you shouldn’t?”

Mary’s eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mean by shouldn’t? Like about my brother?”

“Eww. Gross. No.” Maggie tried to wipe away that mental image. “I mean like a good friend. You’re just friends.”

“Sure. Nate and I were just friends until we slept together. Once we had great sex, it only made sense to get married.”

Maggie nodded, unsure of what to say to that.

“Anyone I know?”

Maggie’s cheeks warmed again. “Rather not say.”

“So that’s a yes.” Mary sipped her coffee. “It’s possible your mind just wandered to someone you know and held that image.”

Relief washed over Maggie.

Mary smirked. “Or maybe you’re into your friend and you’ve been lying to yourself. Either way, you need to think about it. If it was a one-time deal, I wouldn’t worry too much.”

Maggie bit the inside of her cheek. “Thanks.”

Not that the conversation had been all that helpful, but at least Mary had tried. Maggie thanked her for the coffee and went back to her apartment to think. Was she lying to herself? Did she have a thing for Shane that was so secret she didn’t even recognize it?

Shane got to work twenty minutes late. He looked at his dad and readied for the complaint. He hadn’t been late to a job since high school when he’d always been too tired to get his ass out of bed in the morning.

Instead of yelling, his dad simply said, “You look like shit.”

“Thanks and good morning to you too.” He’d already downed two cups of coffee, but he still felt sluggish.

“Who kept you up so late that you couldn’t be on time?”

“Maggie.”

His dad’s eyes widened and Shane realized what his dad was really asking. “No. Not like that. I worked closing at the bar last night with Maggie.”

“I told you this wasn’t a good idea.” His dad hefted a sheet of drywall across the room.

The man was getting too old to do this kind of work. Shane took the sheet from him. It looked like he was never going to escape drywall. “Early on in the night, I started to think you were right. She was running around, owning the room. It was like nothing bad had ever happened.”

“But?” his dad asked as he followed with another sheet of drywall.

“Right before closing, this guy got too close with whiskey on his breath and she panicked. She covered it well, but when I caught her outside the bathroom, she was shaking.” He focused on installing the sheet in front of him and taking over for his dad.

His dad stepped back and let Shane handle it. “You can’t stop that kind of stuff from happening.”

“I know.” He’d give anything if he could. “But being there after made a difference. Helped her.” He believed that.

As he worked, he remembered the look on her face this morning. She’d acted weird, like she couldn’t get away from him fast enough. He couldn’t figure out what would make her act that way. They’d ended the night on a good note, even after her problems with the Marines.

By the time lunch hit, Shane was exhausted. He hadn’t thought it possible to be more tired than he was when he got to work. He sat on an overturned bucket and devoured the sandwich he’d hastily made that morning. He looked at the cooler his dad unpacked. One thing he definitely missed about living at home was his mom packing his lunch.

As if he felt Shane staring, his dad looked up. “You want some?”

“Whatcha got?”

“A couple of turkey sandwiches, chips, cookies—”

“Mom made cookies?”

“Of course.” He tossed a baggie. “She sent extra like she always does.”

Shane munched on the cookies and wished for a glass of milk. As if by divine intervention, his dad passed him a thermos. Milk. He laughed. How many grown men had their moms making lunch for them?

But he wasn’t silly enough to say no to her cookies.

“Any word from the police department yet? I read in the paper they’re going to be calling up the next class.”

Shane lifted a shoulder. He’d about given up on becoming a cop. “Nothing.”

He remembered Mrs. O’Leary saying Jimmy O’Malley might have some pull. Maybe it was worth looking into. It couldn’t be worse than sitting and waiting.

They cleaned up after lunch and finished the drywall in the basement. It was good work for the winter, but Shane hated working indoors. He missed the sun and fresh air.

“You should go home,” his dad said.

“We have a few more hours before quitting time.”

“The drywall’s done. I don’t need your help to start taping. Go home and take a nap.”

Christ, the idea of a nap was more appealing than it should have been. “I can finish out the day.”

“I know you can, and there will be days I won’t be able to let you go early. But you’re working too many jobs right now. Go home.”

He felt bad knowing his dad was right. His plan was not well thought out, because he enjoyed sleep. He didn’t function well without it, and on a job like this, he’d probably start making stupid mistakes. He’d have to plan better, look at the nights when Maggie would be working, and do his best to rest up instead of working on his apartment.

“You sure?” he asked.

“Yeah. Tell Maggie I said hi.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

His dad nodded and plopped drywall mud into the pan. Shane gathered his tools and went out to his truck. When he sat down and started the engine, his exhaustion expanded. He could almost lay his head against the steering wheel and sleep. As soon as the truck was warm, he drove on autopilot to his apartment. He took the quickest shower imaginable and crawled under the covers. He glanced at the clock and realized he was worse than an old man. At four in the afternoon, he was in bed.

Maggie and Moira sat on the couch, drinking coffee and talking for hours. The career hunt went in circles.

“You need to finish school and get your degree.”

“In what? It seems silly to finish and get a degree I won’t use.”

Moira rolled her eyes. “You said you were almost done when you switched to English as a major and wanted to write. I can help you get some freelance gigs. You need some pieces for a portfolio, though.”

“I don’t think I’m a good-enough writer to make it a career.” She sighed and tried to find the right words to explain it. “I thought that I lacked experience. I believed if I got out and lived life that it would translate into better writing.” She scrunched her nose. “It didn’t.”

“Okay. Let’s go back to things you like.”

She immediately thought of photography, but dismissed it. She had no chance of getting a degree for that. She hadn’t taken any formal classes.

“There!” Moira yelled. “What was that?”

“What?”

“Whatever you were just thinking about. It was something that made you smile. You don’t smile when you think about working at the bar.”

“I was thinking about photography, but it’s just a hobby. I enjoy it. You’re supposed to enjoy your hobbies. That doesn’t mean it should be a career.”

Moira stood and went to the kitchen. She returned with the coffeepot and refilled both their cups. “But it might be worth looking into. There are all different kinds of photographers.”

“I wouldn’t know where to start.”

“Isn’t that what you have me for?”

Moira was probably the best older sister anyone could ask for. Because of that, Maggie decided Moira could be her sounding board for what she’d been considering all day. “So, I had this dream last night. You know, the one I told you about?”

“The mystery man,” Moira replied with an exaggerated wag of her eyebrows.

Maggie immediately began to doubt the intelligence of having this conversation, but she soldiered on. “Last night, he had a face.” She swallowed hard. “It was Shane.”

Moira jumped up, sloshing hot coffee over her hand and on the floor as she squawked. “Oh, my God. Was it good? I bet he’s good. Well, of course he was good in your dream. Why would you imagine him as being bad?”

Moira dashed out of the room and grabbed a paper towel to clean up her mess.

“The thing is, I’m not sure what the dream means. I had this freak-out with a customer last night at the bar, and Shane talked me through it. After my shift, he walked me upstairs. So part of me thinks that since he was the last person I talked to and I trust him and he knows about my past, which are all things Dr. Janzen said are vital, my mind plopped him in as mystery man.” She reached over and lightly slapped her sister’s leg. “And add to that you pointing out the other day how Shane is a big guy . . .”