Off the Hook (20 page)

Lifting the frame from the wall, Kate kept her gaze glued to the woman as she dusted all around the edges and glass. She was still staring at it when footsteps sounded out on the porch a second before the door opened.

Kate didn’t have to look; she knew it was Liam, just as she knew that the woman in the picture had to be his mom and that, clearly, Maggie O’Donnell didn’t belong at the Buoys.

“Hey,” he said. “You okay? Jessie’s been calling you on the radio.”

In her peripheral vision she saw him lift the radio from the table near the door. He twisted the dial on the top, then keyed the mic.

“Jessie?…Yeah, she’s here, but she didn’t have the radio turned on. Did you need her for something?”

Jessie’s voice came through almost immediately. “No, just checking in.”

“ ’Kay, well, she’s fine. I’ll be up to start dinner in a bit.” He set the radio down, then pointed at it. “Freaks her out when she can’t reach us, so it’s best if you keep it on.”

Nodding slowly, Kate brushed her fingers over Maggie’s image.

“She looks so sad,” she murmured. “Why don’t you put up a better picture of her?”

“I don’t think we have one.” Liam’s voice sounded small even as he stepped up behind her. “She didn’t like having her picture taken, and any ones we have are pretty much like that.”

Kate forced herself to swallow the sigh his closeness threatened to pull out of her. “Because she didn’t like having her picture taken or because she was always so sad?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “Both, I guess. I don’t remember.”

Lowering the frame, Kate turned. “What
do
you remember about her? About them?”

Liam blew out a breath and shrugged. “Right after they were married, they moved here from Dublin and started this place.”

“What did they do back in Dublin?”

“Da fished.”

“And your mom?”

Liam lifted the frame out of Kate’s hands and rehung it on the wall, never once looking at the bottom right photo. “She was a waitress at one of the local pubs.”

“Did she ever go out fishing with your dad?”

“No. She was okay when the water was calm, but first sign of a wave would do her in for hours.”

“Oh, Liam.” The splintering ache that ripped through Kate’s heart caught her by surprise. “Look at her.”

“I know what she looks like, Kate.” He started to turn, but Kate grabbed his elbow and held on while she took the frame down.

“Look at her! You haven’t said much about her, but from what you have said, I thought she was a shrieking shrew or something and that’s why they split up.”

Liam’s mouth twisted a little, but he still didn’t look at the picture. “She did her fair share of yelling, don’t kid yourself.”

“I’m sure,” Kate said, holding the frame higher and pointing at Maggie. “But that’s not a face of a woman who’s angry; it’s the face of someone who’s sad. God, I can only imagine how lonely she must have been out here.”

“Lonely?” he snorted. “How do you figure that?”

“They had friends and family back in Dublin, yes?”

“Yeah.”

“So she had that plus her job at the pub. And I mean no offense to the Irish, but from everything you hear, most of those places do a pretty good business, so she was probably surrounded by people most of the time.”

“Yeah? So?” Tugging the frame out of her grip, he hung it up again, then stood between it and Kate so she couldn’t reach it.

“She moves from a life like that, in a fairly big city, to a place that’s completely isolated and where her nearest neighbor is only accessible by sea or air. That couldn’t have been easy for her.”

“What are you talking about? She wasn’t alone; Da and the three of us were here.”

“Sure, some of the time. But what about when you were all out on the boats? Or at school? What about when your dad took the three of you camping up in Millbanke Sound every year?” Kate might not have known Maggie O’Donnell, but that didn’t mean she didn’t feel for the poor woman. “And even when you were all here, it sounds to me like you were all busy doing other things. Did anyone ever spend time with her?”

“ ’Course we did. Every night she practically chained us to the kitchen table until our homework was done.”

The expression on his face, the one that had seemed mostly indifferent with maybe a touch of boredom up to that point, began to morph into something else as his closed mind gradually opened to take in what Kate was saying.

A second later, though, he shook his head.

“No. If she was so lonely, why the hell did she stay as long as she did?”

“I don’t know,” Kate said. “But if I had to guess, I’d say it was probably because she loved you guys something fierce.”

Liam’s frown was almost an exact replica of the one on his mother’s face in the picture.

“I don’t—”

“Think about it,” Kate said. “You said yourself that she cried a lot, and after seeing that picture, I believe it. You all love it here so much, and if that was her usual expression, she obviously didn’t. And if she really was that miserable, probably the only reason she stayed was because of you guys. Maybe she thought she’d learn to love it, too.”

He seemed to consider that for a moment before slowly shaking his head. “I don’t know, I don’t think this life is something you can learn to love. You either do or you don’t.”

“Exactly.”

“No,” he said. “I don’t buy it. If she loved us so much, she wouldn’t have left without so much as a backward glance.”

Kate couldn’t deny he had a point, and as she’d never met the woman, she couldn’t say anything for certain, yet there was something about that picture that tugged at her, made her feel for a woman she’d never even clapped eyes on before.

But that tug she felt for Liam’s mom was nothing compared to the jolting yank she felt a second later when Liam’s right eye twitched. Hardly more than a flutter, but it was enough to let Kate see the hurt he wasn’t fast enough to blink away.

One step and she was close enough to touch him, to wrap her hands around his and hold on.

“I’m sorry,” she said, wishing he’d look at her instead of over the top of her head. “It’s easier to forgive the things your dad did to you than it is to forgive her for walking away, isn’t it?”

Instead of answering, he tugged his hands out of hers and headed for the door, then hesitated once he’d pulled it open.

“My old man drank because it was the only way he could cope after she left us, so anything he did when he was drunk was partly her fault, too.” He cleared his throat quietly, then thumbed toward the lodge, never once looking at Kate. “I gotta go make dinner. You coming?”

“Not yet. I still have things to do here.”

With a short nod, he pointed toward the radio. “I’ll call when it’s ready.”

And then he was gone, leaving Kate standing in the middle of the cabin, her arms wrapped around her waist, staring at the closed door.

“Not every woman leaves,” she murmured. “Some of us get left behind.”

Chapter 9

Love is the most important thing in the world, but baseball is pretty good, too.

—Yogi Berra

For days afterward, Liam kept to himself as much as he could, which wasn’t an easy thing to do at the Buoys, especially when Jessie and Finn constantly needed him to help them with something.

Kate was the only one who didn’t come looking for him, and that was driving him crazy, because she was the only one he wanted to talk to and she was the one he spent every minute thinking about.

Even high up on the ladder as he was then, with ceiling-fan parts in both hands, every thought was about her.

About how lying in that stupid rowboat had been the best non-date he’d ever been on, about how boating over to Hardy with her had been the best ride he could remember, and how kissing her in the kitchen had been astronomically better than any kiss he’d ever had before it. God, everything about that kiss—the way she smelled so damn good, the way she tasted like heaven, and the way her whole body melted against him, her soft curves fitting against him like no one else ever had—it was too much. Too good.

And when she curled her fingers through his hair…holy shit, man. How was that one kiss ever going to be enough? It wouldn’t be, and that was part of the reason he’d gone to find her when Jessie couldn’t reach her on the radio. If he could just have another minute with her, another chance to kiss her, to maybe apologize for the whole Finn’s-got-supplies-in-his-drawer episode, then he might have been okay.

Instead, he’d walked in and found her looking at that damn picture of Maggie. They should have taken it down years ago, but none of them could be bothered to find a picture to replace it, so that’s where it had stayed.

In truth, Liam hadn’t even thought about that picture in years, because for so long now he hadn’t had a reason to go into any of the cabins. Anytime he’d come home, he’d stay in his room in the lodge, and any work that the cabins needed was usually done in the spring, when the snow had melted—and that was when he was usually elbow deep in a bullpen somewhere.

He hadn’t wanted to see the picture, but Kate had been adamant, shoving it in his face the way she did. And the crazy thing was, even though he knew the picture and could have described Maggie down to the color apron she had on, looking at it there with Kate, it was as if he were seeing his mother for the first time.

Or maybe it was just that he was looking at her through different eyes.

What Kate had said about Maggie stuck in his mind and wouldn’t let go, no matter how hard he tried to shake it, and he knew why. She’d hit on something he’d spent most of his life knowing yet trying really hard to ignore—that, yeah, Maggie might have loved them, and she might have stayed as long as she did because of that love, but at the end of the day neither her love nor the love they had for her was enough.

None of them made her happy enough to stay, and that, right there, was the nagging itch he’d never been able to scratch. Love wasn’t enough. It hadn’t been enough for Maggie, it hadn’t been enough for Da, and it sure as hell hadn’t been enough for Ro and Mandy.

His ex-sister-in-law’s name was still fresh in that thought when the realization struck Liam like a cannon blast: Love hadn’t been enough for him and Kate, either.

They’d only known each other a few days in Vegas, so maybe it wasn’t love he’d felt for her, but whatever it was, it was a hell of a lot more than he’d ever felt for anyone else. And yet he’d walked out on her in the middle of the night, without so much as a word, and, sure, he’d used his career as an excuse, but that was only part of it.

He’d walked out on her because there was a part of him, that nagging unreachable itch, that knew it didn’t matter what he felt for her—at some point, it wouldn’t be enough. Sooner or later she’d leave, and that would’ve killed him. So he left before that could happen.

Liam sat down on the top of the ladder and stared down at the fan parts in his hands. He didn’t know how, and he didn’t know why, but every single thing he’d felt for Kate in Vegas had roared back the minute he saw her standing there in that thin little raincoat and yellow gum boots, and with every passing day it had only grown stronger.

He loved her. Hell, it was possible that maybe he’d always loved her, and maybe that was why, in the last ten years, no other woman had ever done it for him.

“Shit.”

He loved Kate. Kate, who would have to be certifiable to feel anything for him after what he did to her. Kate, who had every right to hate him and yet didn’t. Kate, who was only at the Buoys in preparation for Foster’s possible takeover.

Which brought him straight back to the problem. If love hadn’t been enough for his parents or for Ro and Mandy, why should Liam believe it would be enough for him and Kate now? Simple: He didn’t believe it, not for a second. But damn it all to hell if he could stop hoping.

For what, though?

That they could have what they had in Vegas? That hadn’t even been a week—any couple could have a good week. Was he hoping Kate could love him? Maybe.

Okay, yeah. But she’d acted as though she loved him before and he’d crapped all over it.

Why would he want her to love him if it was going to end up not being enough in the end? Why put either one of them through that again? They’d be crazy to even think about it, but
damn!
There was no way she could kiss him the way she did if she didn’t feel something for him, too.

The whole thing was a big jumbled mess, and he was just fishin’ for trouble if he pushed this—whatever this was—any further with Kate.

If he had a decent bone in his body he’d stop thinking about her, stop wanting to be with her, and yet he knew exactly what would happen if Kate walked into the room right then. He’d have her pressed up against the wall, his mouth on hers, devouring every one of those sexy little gasps while he ran his fingers over that freckle on her hip, then up her belly to her perfect breasts, which were made just for his hands.

Leaning over, elbows on his knees, his forehead pressed against the parts in his hands, Liam moaned, long and low.

“I am so fucked.”

“What the hell are you doing?” Jessie’s cry brought him upright so fast, the whole ladder wobbled beneath him.

“God almighty, woman,” he croaked. “You trying to get me killed?”

“Me? You’re the one teetering up there when it’s clearly painted all over the ladder that you’re not supposed to sit, stand, or lean on that top step!”

“What are you—” He stopped, blinked, and expelled a hard breath. She was right, of course, the warning was even in bright-red paint, but who paid attention to it? “I was fine until you scared the crap out of me.”

Mouth pinched tight, she stood there shaking her head at him for a second before huffing out a sigh. “Finn needs help down at the dock.”

“What’s he doing?”

“Replacing the chains on the west side.”

With a sigh of his own, Liam twisted around and tried not to let Jessie see how much of a struggle it was to get down with his hands full. He almost made it, too, until he lost his balance on the next-to-bottom rung and ended up half-hopping, half-falling to the floor.