Maggie's Five ...the first in a LOVE story (9 page)

Well hell, he
just wants to have a drink with me. If I hadn’t downed over half a
bottle of wine already I may actually feel bad for being such a
bitch, but I have, so I don’t.

“
I
don’t know the address. I was walking around for a while, liked the
name, so came inside,” I automatically sit up taller, looking for
clues to where I am, “Hold on a sec Lucas,” I say pronouncing his
name in two separate syllables.

I lean over the
timber stained counter and grab the back of a passing barman’s
shirt. “Sorry friend, my phone would like to know where I am. Can
you please give it the directions here?” I ask, offering up my
mobile with a shake.

The barman takes
my phone, brushing his cool fingers over mine.

Smirking, he
looks me over with confident ease, “You want me to talk to your
phone, sweetheart?”

Smirking back
because it looks so good on him, I thought I’d give it a try.
“Yep.”

He places the
phone to his ear, holding his unblinking gaze on me like it’s a
challenge. I listen to the depth of his voice but not the words
before he ends the call. His attention goes to my phone, punching
in a new set of numbers.

“
Hey
whatcha doin’?” I ask, standing taller on the barstool to lean over
the counter. He doesn’t reply, just keeps smirking and holding me
captive in his black stare.

“
Hi
Phone, it’s just me, Red. I’m using a real pretty girl’s mobile to
call so the two of you can talk. I really think she should tell me
her name now that she overheard me telling you mine, and now that
she has my number an’ all, it would be rude not to share, don’t you
think?” His brow quirks as he presses the end button and stores his
number, before passing over my phone.

“
Red.
Knowing your name make me a friend does it?” I’m struggling to hold
back a smile. It’s been so long since I’ve smiled a real smile and,
with the aid of the alcohol flowing, it’s easier to find a little
happy.

Red’s eyes
sparkle and his smile broadens. “Yeah sweetheart, you’re my new
best friend.”

I take in his
features, giving my sluggish brain time to contemplate my next
move. He’s good looking, in a dark, dangerous kind of way. Not
short on sex appeal and he knows it. Somehow his arrogance makes
him even more appealing.

“
Maggie.”

“
Hi
Maggie, it’s nice to meet you. Can I buy you a drink?”

He sets up two
shot glasses in front of us and pours clear liquid into them. He
lifts the one closest to him and holds it to his lips, waiting for
me to do the same. When I do, Red licks his bottom lip and downs
the drink.

Mesmerised, I
mimic his movements, lick my bottom lip and gulp the contents of
the small glass. I gasp noisily before sealing my mouth shut tight
so I don’t cough spit all over the place.

“
Wow
that burns,” I eventually choke out.

Red laughs, his
grin causing a dimple to flash to attention as he pours us seconds.
He takes my hand and places something cool and damp in it, closing
my fingers gently to encase it. He turns it over so my knuckles are
facing up and slowly licks the back of my hand and trickles a
grainy white dust over the moisture.

If possible, his
almost black eyes darken. He licks the salt off the back of my hand
then downs his drink. He turns my palm up and bites into the lemon
wedge, licking my soft flesh before taking the fruit and
straightening.

Red takes the
wedge from his teeth and tosses the rind to one side. He holds his
hand to my mouth and I’ve had just about enough alcohol to do what
he wants. I lick the offered surface, take the small glass held up
for me in his other hand and swallow the hot liquid, biting the
lemon between my teeth after he brushes the tangy fruit over my
smarting mouth. I close my mouth around it and enjoy the
bitterness, cooling the burn in my throat.

“
That’s how you do it, sweetheart,” he whispers to my swollen
mouth. I didn’t notice we’d gotten so close that I can now feel his
warm breath mixing with mine.

“
That’s how you do what, Maggie?”

My eyes widen.
Luke’s here. I love that he’s here.

I spin on my
seat and amazingly manage to end up on the counter. “Luke, you have
to meet my new friend, Red. Red, meet Luke, he lives with me. I
don’t know how that happened but it has and now he does,” I say,
giggling.

I’m giggling. I
don’t giggle. God my life’s turned me into a freaking
giggler.

“
Lucas this is the very handsome, but don’t you dare tell
him…” I whisper, leaning into Luke’s chest, “it would be beyond
embarrassing, if you know what I mean.” I exaggerate an open mouth,
wide eyed wink. “Red.”

“
Red?” Luke questions over my shoulder, hugging me to him.
He’s not smiling.

“
Conrad. My friends call me Red. Maggie’s a
friend.”

Yep, that’s me.
His new best friend.

“
You
two live together?”

“
Yes,” Luke bites out, at the same time I chirp a
solid,

“
No,”
nearly choking on the saliva in my mouth. “Well, yes, sort of. We
share a roof. Right, Luke?”

He doesn’t
respond, nor look at me… or loosen his hold.

“
Luke?”

Luke’s posture
softens, his blue eyes returning to my face, taking me in. “Yes
Maggie Mae, we share a roof.” He runs his hand through my wavy red
hair and gently fits some strays behind my ear. “Have you had
enough or do you want another?”

I can’t help
wanting more when he’s being tender like this. More of his strength
and warmth and… rightness.

“
One
more?” I ask, pulling on his shirt and squeezing my legs against
his waist to keep him close. When he doesn’t answer, I look up to
see him watching me playing with the tight fabric around his waist,
and feel his abs contract when my fingers catch on the waist band
of his jeans. Everything stills and calms. We’ve created a bubble I
could very easily get comfortable in.

“
I’ll
have a Guinness,” Luke tells Red. Smiling gently when he finds my
eyes on his face, he takes my hips into his strong hands, coaxes me
forward and lifts me off the bar. My legs and arms automatically
wrap around him and my head rests on his chest as he carries me to
a table without another word. I’m pretty sure if I were a cat, I’d
be purring right now.

He noisily drags
out a chair and carefully sits me on the seat. “What would you like
to drink, Maggie?”

Umm, my head is
swimming after the shots and now another drink doesn’t hold the
same appeal, so I shrug instead of answering him.

“
Are
you hungry Maggie Mae?” Luke asks, not reacting to my non-answer
and settling on the seat by me. He takes a menu from the holder on
the table. “I could use something to eat.”

“
I
can eat,” I smile, grateful for the idea, but not certain if food’s
going to settle well with all the liquid floating around in my
stomach.

Red sits a large
glass of dark foaming liquid in front of Luke and a glass of wine
in front of me. As he’s about to turn, Luke asks him to bring us
food - reading off the menu and double checking his selections are
okay with me first.

It’s lucky,
because I was about to get a tad miffed with him and I would hate
to have to get out the big guns and go all bad-arse on him in
public… because I could, you know. I’m pretty bad-arse when I want
to be.

THE DAY AFTER my
hangover the courier arrives as promised, in the afternoon so I
could get to all of my non-existent errands done in the morning.
Brendan’s things are wrapped and boxed to perfection for safe
delivery. I distractedly wonder while Luke and I stacked them in a
corner of Brendan’s study - who was the lucky person to get the
honour of cleaning out his office and if they took their time and
cared for the things that were removed as quickly as Brendan
was.

I somehow
managed to hold a conversation around my throbbing temples with
Jon. We covered all the obligatory topics:
‘How are you?’
,
‘Keeping on top of things?’
,
‘Parents well?’
and so
on and so on. When we had exhausted the menial, Jon started
floundering, telling me all about the weather and the unusual winds
we’ve been having. That’s when I knew something was up.

Over discussing
turbulent gusts, I braced myself and told him to, “Just spit it
out, Jon.”

“
It’s
a notional magazine Maggie. I can’t say no.” Oh, he’s been offered
a contract. A big one by the sounds of it.

“
That’s fantastic Jon.”

It’s not a
complete lie.

“
No,
I mean - yeah, it is, but it’s abroad Maggie Mae. I don’t know how
long I’m going to be gone.”

And you don’t
think I can take care of myself.

“
Don’t be ridiculous. It’s your job and you’re great at it.
Go, have fun. Just remember the little people when you’re all rich
and famous okay?”

Jon’s good at
what he does. Really good. A house full of awards proves it. As far
as the ‘rich and famous’ goes… he’s held a lot of shows that have
attracted a lot of people, so I guess he’s on his way there, if he
isn’t already. It’s hard to tell with him. He’s boisterous and
attention seeking, except when it comes to his work.

After a few more
minutes of to-ing and fro-ing, we finished up with promises to keep
in touch, even though we won’t.

Luke’s mobile
phone’s ringing again. It rings a lot at the best of times, but
it’s been going crazy today. He answers it quietly from in the
kitchen, so I can’t hear what he’s saying, just the hum of his
voice filling the void.

I’m grateful for
him. I’m thankful to the powers in play for bringing him to me. I
honestly don’t know where I’d be or what I would do without him
anymore. That thought alone petrifies me and has me spitting in
jealousy, because he can leave. It would be so easy for him. He can
walk up the very stairs I’m glaring at from my position on the
couch and pack his bag. Toss out the things he no longer wants and
go. Disappear.

I hate him for
that.

I really do. But
I love that’s he here more.

Luke spoke to
Jon yesterday and again this morning. Luke speaks to him more than
I do these days. They had one of their cryptic conversations about
me. I really wish people would stop thinking I’m too stupid and not
understand what is going on around me.

I’m not, you
know. Widow is not a synonym for dense.

Luke’s raised
voice snaps me out of my darkening thoughts, my ears pricking to
attention as he speaks. “No, I told you that would be impossible at
the moment.”

There’s silence,
the scraping of a chair over the timber floor.

“
I
can’t,” he growls, his tone piking my curiosity. I don’t think he’s
talking to anyone I know.

“
Fine,” he barks, then is quiet for a moment. “I said it’s
fine, give me a couple days to get organised.”

I’m standing
now, making my way to him. I know it’s wrong but he sounds so
distressed I can’t help it. I stop short of the entrance to the
kitchen and watch him pace, running his free hand through his
shaggy blonde hair that could use a trim, the other hand clutching
the phone still pressed to his ear.

“
I’m
pretty fucking sure I pay someone way too much to take care of this
shit, Alec,” he grounds out through clenched teeth before noticing
me.

His shoulders
drop, and he runs a frustrated hand through the back of his hair
rigorously, causing it to stick out in different directions. Then
he wipes it firmly over his face, walks to me and wraps me up in
his large frame. He stopped listening to whatever Alec is saying on
the other end of the line.

“
I
have to go,” Luke says without apology and hangs up, wraps his
other arm around me and buriers his face into my hair. I shuffle
closer when he doesn’t move and hold him back, waiting for him the
same way he has waited patiently for me. After the longest time, I
feel Luke’s shoulders soften and then the muscles in his back
relax. Lastly his tightly clenched jaw slackens, and his arms hold
steadfast.

I slide my hands
into his back pockets. “What’s wrong?”

I love, no, hate
how much I like the way he holds me. There’s no pretence, no
expectation, only friendship and comfort. Normally it’s Luke
comforting me - this time however, I’m not so sure.

“
I
have to go,” he murmurs so, so quietly against my skin and tightens
his embrace.

He’s leaving me?
But he can’t. Jon is.

“
Where?” I probe, even though it’s not my place to ask; he’s
not mine to question. My heartrate picks up anyway, and my arms
drop listlessly, suddenly too heavy.

He’s leaving
me.

“
They
need me back at the office.” Luke breathes noisily through his nose
and presses his forehead into the nook between my shoulder and my
neck, “I don’t want to go, Maggie Mae,” he whispers, then turns to
press a soft kiss to my jaw. “I don’t want to leave.”