Bottom Line: Callaghan Brothers, Book 8 (4 page)

To the woman, he simply nodded.  “Coffee would be great, thanks.”

She smiled kindly again.  “Come on in and sit down.  You look a little shaky yet.”  He walked hesitantly into the kitchen and sat down at the breakfast counter.  Max placed himself at his side, and Aidan found himself reaching down absently to stroke his soft head.

“I’m sorry,” he said as a name popped into his head.  “Mary?”

She turned to face him, affording him a full frontal view.  Aidan couldn’t contain the slight curving of his lips.  Her oversized shirt featured the shadowy outline of a dog, captioned
I Like Big Mutts, and I Cannot Lie
.

“That’s me,” she said, returning his smile.  “And that’s Max.”  Max’s tail thumped at the sound of his name.  “He likes you.”

Aidan looked down, surprised to find the dog listing drunkenly to the side.  “Does he always sit like that?”

“He has severe hip dysplasia.”  At Aidan’s blank expression, she explained, “His hip sockets are filled in; his back legs aren’t in the joints, so he sways when he walks, and leans when he sits.”

“Sounds painful.”

She shrugged and looked at the dog with obvious affection.  “Doesn’t seem to be.  At least not yet.  I think he’d let me know.”

Aidan didn’t know what to say to that, so he just continued to pet the dog.  He found it strangely comforting.

“You don’t remember anything about last night, do you?” she said, clearly taking pity on him when she saw him working so hard to put it all together.

“Not much, I’m sorry.  I hope I didn’t cause you any trouble.”

“You didn’t.”  As she turned away, he saw the slight tilt to her lips, as if the question amused her. 

His eyes were drawn to her shapely behind as she reached for a mug, though the rest of her was pretty nice, too.  Brown hair, brown eyes.  Delicate, feminine features.  She wore little to no makeup, and certainly didn’t make a habit of dressing to impress.  She was no kid; he’d put her around his own age, maybe a little less. 

There was nothing about her that immediately drew the eye.  He remembered thinking along the same lines the night before.  He doubted he would have given her a second glance, then realized what a damn shame that would have been.  She had a very serene, natural type of beauty that he found surprisingly attractive.

“Can you, uh, maybe fill me in a little?  Like why I was naked?”

The lips, just a little fuller than normal, quirked again.  “Yes.  Do you take cream?  Sugar?”

“Black is fine.”

She put the mug in front of him, then went over to the microwave and extracted a covered plate.  Placing it before him, she lifted the lid to reveal scrambled eggs and toast.  “Go on,” she coaxed, putting a fork and napkin beside the plate.  “It’ll help settle your stomach.”

He studied her carefully, but didn’t make a move to eat.  “It’s not poisoned or anything,” she said with a teasing glint in her eyes.  To prove her point, she moved close to him, picked up the fork, and took a bite herself.  “See?”  Then she broke off a corner of the toast and fed it to a patiently waiting Max.

For whatever reason, those little actions eased him.  Or maybe it was the subtle scent of jasmine and vanilla he’d scented when she came close that did it.  She crossed her arms over her chest and glanced down at his plate expectantly, then back at him.  Apparently he wasn’t going to get any answers until he ate something.  In that moment, she reminded him of Lexi with her motherly but well-intentioned bossiness. 

Hiding his urge to smile, he dutifully speared some scrambled eggs on his fork and brought it to his mouth.  She nodded, satisfied, and went back to the sink to fill a small, copper colored watering can.

“I didn’t take advantage of you,” she said, glancing up at him with a mischievous sparkle in her eye, “if that’s what you’re thinking.  You slipped in the parking lot last night, and your pants were covered with slush and rock salt.”

“And my shirt?”

She reddened perceptibly and averted her eyes before answering.  “I think someone might have spilled a drink on you at the bar.  You reeked of Scotch.”

Aidan dipped his head and stuffed another forkful into his mouth so she wouldn’t see him smiling.  While she might be telling him the truth about the spilled drink, the obvious blush suggested that perhaps she might have had an ulterior motive for removing his shirt as well.  He probably should have felt some faint sense of violation, but as it was, he was amused by her embarrassment. 

He took his time chewing.  “Thanks for that.  And for, you know, not taking advantage of me.  These eggs are great, by the way.”

“Glad you like them.”

Mary worked her way around the kitchen, watering the multitude of plants that gave the space an almost tropical feel.  As he watched her progress surreptitiously from beneath hooded eyes, he noted the warm, cozy feel of the kitchen.  With buttery cream colored walls, oak-stained cabinetry, and gleaming white appliances, the room was like a balm to his soul.  A small hand-painted canvas suspended on the wall proclaimed “Life is Short.  Eat Dessert First.”  That made him smile.

Unlike the state-of-the-art, stainless steel showplace he had in his condo, this was the type of place to share intimate homemade dinners for two, or have a cup of coffee and unburden your soul.  And the breakfast bar was just about the right height to allow a man to sneak up behind an unsuspecting woman, grasp her hips and sink into... 

Aidan shook his head, forcing the bizarre and totally inappropriate images from his mind.  Mary gave him a curious look, but thankfully, said nothing.

Aidan went back to perusing his surroundings, appreciating the clean, bright space.  Large sliding doors and oversized windows allowed copious amounts of sunlight to stream in and afforded a nice view of the backyard.  The previous night’s quick-moving clipper storm was long gone, leaving a glittering fresh top coat of two or three inches on top of what was already out there.  It was so cozy, so welcoming, that he felt instantly at home.

“So, Mary, do you make a habit of picking up strange men in bars and bringing them back to your house?”

Mary stiffened at the sink, and he realized what he’d just said.  It had sounded much more amusing in his mind, but hearing the words out loud like that sounded rude and insulting.  His comment hung in the heavy silence that followed for several heartbeats.

“I’m sorry, that didn’t come out right.”

“It’s okay,” Mary said, though her warm and friendly smile had weakened.  “It’s the truth.  And to answer your question, no, I don’t.  But you really looked like you needed some help.”  She took his now-empty plate and silverware over to the sink, refusing to meet his eyes. 

“Mary, please, I’m sorry.”  The words were too little, too late.  It was as if a switch had been flipped.  The bright sunshine dimmed, and the cozy warmth he’d felt up until this point chilled quickly.

Mary grabbed a thick cable-knit sweater from a peg near a closed door and pulled it over her head.  “No biggie,” she said, but her smile was forced.  “Max and I have some errands to run.  We can give you a ride out to your car.”

It was clearly a dismissal.  Maybe not as blatant as “don’t let the door hit you in the ass on your way out”, but there was no mistaking the meaning.  Aidan was reluctant to leave things the way they were, especially when she had done nothing but been exceptionally kind and generous. 

Unfortunately, his recovering brain was suppressing his natural ability to find the right words to repair the damage.  Mary was obviously a kind woman, but also a sensitive one.  He didn’t want to make things even more uncomfortable by saying the wrong thing, so he sighed quietly and stood.

“Come on, Max, let’s get the car loaded.” 

“Let me help.”  Aidan said, wanting to do something that might get her to look at him again like she had only a few minutes earlier.  “Just let me get my jacket.”

Mary gave no indication that she heard him, and by the time he made his way out into the attached garage, she was loading the last of more than a dozen reusable canvas grocery bags into the back of her Jeep.

Sighing again at having missed an opportunity to soften her toward him, Aidan slid quietly into the passenger seat.

It was a relatively short drive back to Tommy’s, only about ten minutes or so.  The roads had been cleared and heavily salted, and traffic was light due to the holiday.  Mary hadn’t looked his way once; he knew because he was watching her with his peripheral vision.

She really was a pretty woman, he decided.  From the side, he could see that her pert little nose had just the tiniest upturn at the end, and that her eyelashes were even longer than he’d first thought.  No, she was no glamorous vixen, but she was very attractive in a quiet, understated way.  She had the kind of face that grew more beautiful every day for what lie beneath it, he realized with shocking, sudden clarity.  Ageless beauty that a man would never tire of.

Mary pulled next to the Honda, but left her Jeep running and gave no indication that she was getting out.

“Thank you,” he said, knowing the words were insufficient.  “For everything.”

Mary nodded.  “You’re welcome.”

His hand was on the door handle, but he didn’t want to leave yet.  The Jeep was warm, and clean, and filled with Mary’s light, fresh fragrance.  “What errands do you have to run on New Year’s Day?” he asked.  It was a not-so subtle attempt to prolong the inevitable.  He knew it, and suspected she did, too.  “Maybe I could help.”

Another smile, this one not as forced, but hinting of sadness.  “Thanks for the offer, but Max and I have it covered.”

Well, that was clear enough, wasn’t it?  Aidan was disappointed, but not completely ready to throw in the towel.  “I’d like to repay your kindness.  I’m not sure where I would have ended up if it wasn’t for you,” he said honestly.

“Not necessary.”  Aidan opened his mouth to speak but Mary put her hand up to stop him.  “
But
if you feel the need to do something for me, how about promising me you won’t get yourself all liquored up and try to get behind the wheel again?”

Aidan winced.  He supposed he had that coming, but it still stung to think Mary believed he was in the habit of driving under the influence.  It was a taste of what Mary must have felt when he asked if she was in the habit of picking up inebriated strangers and taking them home with her. 

“It was a stupid thing to do,” Aidan admitted.  “And not something I make a habit of.”

She nodded slightly, but he wasn’t sure if she believed him or not.  Maybe she was thinking exactly the same thing about rescuing his sorry ass the night before. 

“Mary?  Would you mind if I called you sometime?”

He heard her breath catch, and for a moment he felt a slight surge of hope, but then she said, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Shit
.  “Would it be okay if I gave you my number then?”  Mary was about to protest, so before she could deny him outright, he added, “Please.  Just in case you ever find yourself doing something uncharacteristically stupid and in need of a friend.”

Her features softened, and she accepted the small card he handed her.  Aidan took that as a small victory.  “Anything.  Anytime.  Anywhere.  You need something, you call me, alright?”

“Thanks, Aidan.  Happy New Year.”

Her words brought a hazy memory to the forefront of his brain.  A clock striking twelve.  Soft lips touching his as a delicate fragrance filled his lungs. 
Happy New Year, Aidan.

Aidan climbed into the POS Honda, wishing he had his Benz.  What must Mary think of him?  Coming on to her.  Getting soused.  Trying to get into a car that was, in the daylight, truly a piece of shit.

And yet she had been kind to him, despite all that.  She’d taken him home, given him a warm, safe place to sleep it off, washed his clothes, cooked him breakfast.  Had even been thoughtful enough to have juice and ibuprofen waiting for him when he woke.  She had asked nothing in return. 

And what had he done?  He insulted her. 

Aidan shook his head, wondering what had come over him.  He wasn’t usually such an ass, and never to a sweet, kind woman like Mary.  Then again, he didn’t meet many women like her.

He was nearly back to Pine Ridge before the car’s heater actually kicked in and he started to regain feeling in his numbed fingers.  He decided he would do something nice for Mary, but what?  Dinner?  Flowers?  Candy?  Or maybe a complete all-access weekend pass to the spas and salons at the Goddess? 

Maybe all of them.  Hell, why not?  Money was no object.  And he wanted to do this, if for no other reason than to see her pretty brown eyes light up.

Aidan drove right to his townhouse, excited to put together a surprise gift package for Mary, but the wind quickly left his sails.  How would he get in touch with her?  He didn’t know her last name.  He didn’t have her number.  And he’d been so preoccupied with looking at her that he hadn’t noticed a house number, or even a goddamned street for that matter.

Sinking down into a chair, Aidan ran a hand across his face.

Well, shit
.

M
ary and Max made their rounds at the Birch Falls retirement home, greeting the residents and passing out “care packages” consisting of tiny pots of brightly colored plants and a few extra niceties.  Mary made a point of collecting things – lotions, special soaps, puzzle books, novels – for the folks to enjoy whenever she caught a good sale, knowing how much even the littlest things sometimes meant the most. 

Their weekly visits weren’t totally selfless.  Over the past few years, Mary had found a great deal of solace among the residents.  It seemed that with their advancing age, they had also developed ways of dealing not only with death and the grief that it brought, but more importantly, how to go on afterward.  Their support, their quiet empathy, had meant a lot when everyone else was incapable of processing the tragic loss of such a young life.

She whiled away a couple of hours in the massive rec center, sharing her gifts, chatting, playing several games of checkers and chess and getting solidly beaten.  Max made his rounds, too.  He was always a big hit.  He loved the attention they lavished on him, as well as the generous amount of treats they snuck him when they thought Mary wasn’t looking.