Running Wild (26 page)

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Authors: Susan Andersen

BOOK: Running Wild
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He tipped his chin in to look down at her. “This—you in my arms and me in yours—this is home base for both of us from here on out, got it?”

She nodded. Lord, yes, this was home. She couldn’t think of a single place safer. Better. Sweeter. “Got it.”

“Then life is good, darlin’.” He waltzed her over to the bed, where he lowered her onto the mattress. “Now. About that sex-slave thing...”

EPILOGUE

 

Seattle
Two and a half weeks later

 

M
AGS
WAS
EXCITED
about Finn’s welcome-home party and when they arrived at the pretty medium-sized house where he’d grown up, she found it all but bursting at the seams. A tsunami of sound hit them as they pushed through the front door and she blinked, trying to take in everything at once.

The sheer number of people, all of whom appeared to be balancing drinks and plates of food, crowded the rooms to SRO capacity. A gang of kids, aged from maybe four to what looked like preteens, spilled past them into the yard, the girls in the group squealing. Even when the door closed behind them, the house rang with voices raised in conversations, laughter and song, and—in one case—a not particularly heated argument.

Her energy level revved up as if she were just hitting a night out at the hottest club in town. Who knew she could feel like this at a party held in broad daylight in a private residence, with children present?

She’d met a lot of Finn’s family Tuesday evening when they arrived in Seattle in her old beater after spending several days packing up her apartment. That at least gave her a working knowledge of who was who, starting with his mom and dad, his brothers and sisters and their respective wives, husbands and assorted kids—although, in truth, she only had the siblings and spouses figured out. She was still working to match all the kids’ names to their faces.

She was suddenly swept into a warm, fragrant hug and emitted a surprised “Oh!” Then, connecting the vanilla scent to Finn’s mother, Erin, she laughed and hugged her in return, trying not to poke her in the back with the mixed-color gerbera daisies she’d bought on the way here. When they pulled apart, she handed the plump older woman the bouquet. “For you.”

“Oh, darling, you shouldn’t have.” She grinned and gave her lovely, slightly faded red hair a little toss as she hugged them to her breast. “But they’re simply gorgeous and I’m glad you did.”

“This is quite the party.”

“I know, it’s a crush.” Erin’s quick one-shouldered bump-and-drop was good-natured. “I’m sure Finn tried to warn you, but no one can quite visualize a Kavanagh family get-together until they see one for themselves. Welcome to your first of many.”

Finn’s mom had no idea how that struck to the very heart of her, and Mags’s entire being filled with warmth. “I’m so happy to be here.”

“Aw. You’re definitely a keeper.”

“No fooling,” Finn said. “Because that’s not just good manners, Ma. She’s happy to the
bone
to be here.”

With a smile that lit up the room, Erin hauled her in for another hug and planted a smacking kiss on her temple. Turning her loose, she reached up to pat Finn’s cheek. “God bless my boys for picking smart women.”

Then she hefted the bouquet. “I’ll go find a vase for these. You kids get a drink. Have some food.” She gave her son a knowing look. “I’m sure you’ll be shocked to hear that the usual suspects have taken over the basement.”

He bent to give her a kiss, then turned to Mags. “You ready to meet more people?”

She gave him a brilliant smile. “Yes, please.”

* * *

 

F
INN
GRINNED
.
Of course she was—his Magdalene had been
born
ready. Hell, he’d watched her careful preparations in front of the bathroom mirror before coming here. He’d seen women put on makeup before but had no idea one could take such care and use so many products, only to look like that glow was completely natural. And, face it, were the name Mags Deluca to be bruited about, shyness wouldn’t be the first word that popped to anyone’s mind.

Hooking her neck in the inner bend of his elbow, he hauled her to his side, then carved a path for them through the crowd. They were stopped several times and he dutifully introduced her. But his goal remained front and center in his mind: to gain the escape hatch in the kitchen, otherwise known as the door to the basement.

He spotted his aunt Eileen as they made their way through the dining room, but he whirled Mags in the opposite direction toward the long table that all but groaned beneath the weight of the food upon it. “Grab a plate, darlin’, and we’ll take it downstairs.”

“Ooh. Great idea.” She plucked two sturdy paper plates off a stack and handed one to him. They selected an assortment from the multitudinous offerings, then, with a promise to come back to fetch them something to drink, he steered her though the kitchen and headed for the door. He had his hand on the knob when a voice barked, “Not so fast, boyo. Hold it right there.”

“Crap.” Balancing his plate in one hand, he tugged Mags nearer with his other and murmured, “I love my aunt, but I gotta warn you she’s a world-class busybody.”

She beamed up at him. “I’m sure she’s curious. You can’t blame her for that.”

He bent down to plant a kiss on lips he wished he could savor for more than a here-and-gone peck. “I love you, girl. But don’t say I didn’t warn ya.” Swinging her around, he pulled her against his side and slapped on a smile that became genuine as he watched his aunt stride toward them with her usual flame-haired, proud-postured presence. “Hey, Auntie Eileen. Meet my Magdalene.”

She came to a halt in front of them. “How do you do,” she said to Mags, then added before she could reply, “You’ve only known my nephew for a few weeks. What can you possibly
actually
know about him in such a short a time?”

“Aunt Eileen,” he said warningly, but Mags squeezed his side with the hand she’d slipped around his waist.

“It’s a fair question,” she told him, then turned to Eileen. “Finn jumped in to help a total stranger in trouble, so I knew from the minute I laid eyes on him that he had a good heart. Or was an adrenaline junkie,” she added with a little smile and a nudge of her shoulder against his side, making him snort.

Then she sobered and looked Aunt Eileen straight in the eye. “I know he can fix just about anything and is the most competent man I’ve ever met. I know he’s smart and his word is gold. And I know he thinks
nice
is a dirty word and isn’t to be used in compliments.”

“Why on God’s green earth not?” his aunt demanded. “It’s a perfectly good word.”

“Right?”
Mags looked at Eileen as if genius had rolled like pearls from her lips.

Eileen turned to Finn. “How about you, boyo?”

“I know that she’s talented and inventive and that she never complains no matter how tough things get. I know she gets things done. Oh, and that she doesn’t have a bladder, just a wide spot in the tube,” he added and it was Mags’s turn to snort her amusement. Then he looked his aunt in the eye. “But most importantly? I know she loves family above all else. And that I love
her
above all else.”

“You’re wrong about one thing.” Magdalene tilted her head to look up at him. “I love you above family.”

“Yeah?” His heart just might explode, it felt so full.

Without taking her gaze off him, she stroked her cheek against his chest. “Absolutely.”

Aunt Eileen cleared her throat. “So, have you two set a date?”

“A date?” Mags blinked. “Like, for a wedding, you mean?”

“Of course.”

“No. As you said, we’ve only known each other a short while and we’re taking some time to simply be together and grow our relationship without worrying about men with guns chasing us across El Tigre.” She shot Aunt Eileen a glance. “Although I know Finn’s good at dealing with them as well.”

“As is Mags,” he said and gathered her closer. “We’ll catch up longer next time, Auntie, but for now, we’re grabbing something to drink and taking our food downstairs.”

“Give me a kiss,” she said and, after he leaned in to comply, patted his cheek like his mother had. “You’re a good boy and it looks like you finally hooked yourself a good woman.” Turning away, she strode over to a boy trying to sneak a beer from the tub of drinks. “Pull that bottle out, Aiden,” she said in a voice that snapped with menace despite its pleasant tone, “and I’ll tan your hide.”

Finn laughed and opened the door, gesturing for Mags to precede him down the stairs.

* * *

 

T
HERE
WAS
CONVERSATION
and music down there as well, but not at the burst-your-eardrums decibels of upstairs. The first person Mags saw was Finn’s sister Hannah. The pretty brunette strode over to them the moment they stepped onto the Berber wall-to-wall and gave Mags a quick hug.

“Welcome to the real party,” she said as she released Magdalene and stepped back. “Sit down and eat your food. Did you see your Welcome Home sign?” She gestured at the homemade banner strung horizontally above the fireplace mantel.

Mags shot Finn a delighted smile. “Look, it has my name on it, too!”

“Well, of course it does,” Hannah said. “Finn’s told us all the things you did—like distracting that armed cartel thug while he dismantled the guy’s car.”

“Yeah?” She shot him a look. “I’m surprised he mentioned that one, since he was sure pissed off at my methods at the time. He thought I was offering the guy a bl—”

“Hey,” Finn hastily interrupted, “let me introduce you to everyone. You know Dev and Jane.” He flicked a finger toward where they were shooting a game of pool and they both looked over and waved. “But these are Jane’s best friends—” he indicated the two women seated on a comfy-looking old beat-up leather couch “—Poppy and Ava.”

She stilled as an old insecurity over women with inner circles she’d never belong to reared its ugly head. It was a complete flip-flop of her fear of intimacy, but, hey, when had
any
of her issues made sense?

In any case, she shook it off and handed Finn her plate before stepping forward with squared shoulders and a smile. “Hi. I’m Mags.” She thrust out a hand to Ava, the voluptuous redhead who was first off the couch.

“Oh, screw that,” Ava said and pulled her in for a warm hug. When she turned her loose, she said, “Janie’s been telling us since Tuesday night about how you and Finn set off to rescue your folks and ended up bringing down an entire cartel. We’ve been dying to meet you, haven’t we, Poppy?”

“We have,” her blonde friend agreed and also gave her a hug. She pulled her over to the couch. “Sit down and tell us how you plan to follow up all that excitement. Jane says you’re a makeup artist and a street performer?”

“I am.” Mags sat where Poppy indicated, next to her on the couch. “I’d just gotten my foot in the door to do a Hollywood space epic when my folks disappeared, so I have to restart from scratch. That could take forever, though, so I picked up a job yesterday with a photographer in Belltown whose rep for his author photos in the writing community is exploding.”

“So you’re pretty good at it?” Ava asked and Mags had barely gotten “I am” out of her mouth before Finn squatted down in front of them.

“That artist part of makeup artist?” he said. “It’s no exaggeration.” Turning on his camera, he flipped open the view screen and clicked through his thumbnails. Finding what he wanted, he handed the camera to Ava. “This is what she did with her travel kit in about ten minutes in a four-by-four bathroom while goons were searching for us at a festival. You can click the right arrow to see more.”

The women leaned in. “Holy shitskis,” Poppy breathed. “Look at... Is that
you
, Finn?”

“Yep.”

“Omigawd, look at this one!” Ava said and leaned around Poppy to look at Mags. “I didn’t realize that was you at first. You look like a statue.”

She gave her a delighted smile. “Living statues is what I do. That’s my performance art.” She smiled wryly. “If you can call staying perfectly still performance.”

“Having seen it for myself,” Finn said, “I’m here to tell ya you can.”

“Where’s Cade? He’s gotta see these.” Ava looked around, then raised her voice. “Cade!”

“I’m right here.” A man with sun-streaked brown hair and Paul Newman blue eyes strolled into the room from another part of the basement and leaned over the back of the couch to kiss the top of Ava’s head. “What’s all the racket, baby?”

“This is Finn’s Magdalene,” Ava said and Mags realized she’d quit minding that people called her that. “Mags, my husband, Cade. She’s a makeup artist.” Ava tipped her head back to look up at her husband. “Look what she did when they were in El Tigre.”

She started to hand him the camera, but Finn’s deep auburn-haired, dark-browed brother Dev reached over the back of the couch to intercept it. “Beauty before the feebly aged,” he said with a cocky grin at his brother-in-law.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, Kavanagh,” Cade said drily, “but aren’t you older than me by a couple years?”

Dev hitched a shoulder. “Details.” He looked down at the camera’s screen.

And stilled. “Holy shit,” he breathed as he clicked through the photos. He passed the camera to Cade. “You do have to take a look at these.” Then he sent a sly look Finn’s way. “Gotta say, bro, tiger stripes and furry forearms are a real good look on you. Big improvement over your usual ugly mug.”

Cade seemed to tune out the byplay as he stared down at the screen for what seemed like an age before looking up to meet Mags’s gaze. “This is good. How long did it take you to achieve each look?”

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