Ryan's Place (4 page)

“He’ll come out of the kitchen eventually,” Maggie said. “Until then I’m not bothering him.”

“Patience won’t earn you sainthood,” Katie admonished. “And I’m not sure it’s ever done much to snag a man.”

“I am not out to snag Ryan,” Maggie insisted. “I’m just a little curious about him.”

Colleen arrived just in time to overhear her remark. “We’re all spending part of our holiday at a homeless shelter just so you can satisfy your curiosity?” she asked skeptically. “I don’t think so. We’re here because you have the hots for this guy. And since I just came from the kitchen where I got a good look at him, I have to say, way to go, Maggie!”

“You’ve been in the kitchen?” Katie demanded, looking as if she’d been cheated out of her favorite dessert. “Then I’m going.”

Maggie scowled at both of them. “Don’t make me regret asking you to come today.”

“I just want to see what he looks like,” Katie argued.
“Where’s the harm in that? I’m sure Colleen didn’t go in there and create a scene.”

Just then the kitchen door swung open and Ryan emerged, bearing a huge platter of sliced turkey and followed by a large man carrying trays filled with sweet potatoes and dressing. Ryan’s hair was tousled, his blue shirt perfectly matched his eyes, and he was wearing snug jeans that hugged his narrow hips. Maggie’s mouth went dry, putting to rest any notion that she was here merely to satisfy her curiosity.

“Oh, my,” Katie murmured, then gazed at Maggie with approval. “Your taste has definitely improved while you’ve been away. Not a one of the men you’ve dragged home in the past held a candle to
this
one.”

Before Maggie could respond, Ryan caught sight of her. A slow smile spread across his face, but then his gaze shifted to the commotion at the shelter door, where a long line of people waited impatiently to be admitted. His expression grew troubled, and he turned to murmur a few words to the man next to him, who surveyed the long line, then nodded and hurried back to the kitchen.

Ryan walked in Maggie’s direction. Hoping to stave off an embarrassing interrogation, she escaped her sisters and went to meet him.

“I see you’re here to do your good deed,” he said.

Maggie ignored the faint edge in his voice. “I promised I would be,” she said cheerfully.

His gaze clashed with hers. “Not everyone keeps their word.”

“
I
do,” she said emphatically, returning his gaze with an unflinching look. “I saw you looking at the crowd a minute ago. Is there a problem?”

“The line is longer than I anticipated. I was just asking Rory if he thought we had enough food. He’s convinced we do, but he’s gone back to the pub to bring over another turkey just in case.”

“Is there anything I can do? There are some stores open today. I could make a run to pick up extra food.”

“No need. I’m sure Rory has it under control. What about your family, Maggie? Did you convince them to come today?”

“My sisters are over there,” she said, noting that Colleen and Katie were staring at them with unabashed curiosity.

Ryan grinned. “Ah, yes, I recognize one of them. She was in the kitchen earlier. I thought she seemed a bit more interested in me than in the whereabouts of the napkins she claimed to be looking for.”

“Sorry about that. Nosiness is a family trait, I’m afraid.”

“And your brothers? Are they around?”

“Along with my father,” she told him. “They’re scattered here and there. Father Francis has seen to it that none of us are idle.”

A genuine, full-wattage smile spread across his face then. “Watch out for Father Francis,” he warned. “He’ll have you all signed up for regular duty here before the day’s out, if you’re not careful. When it comes to caring for his strays, he’s totally shameless.”

“I can think of worse places to spend my time,” Maggie said.

Her answer seemed to disconcert him for some reason. He promptly mumbled an excuse and headed back to the kitchen, leaving her to stare after him.

For the rest of the afternoon, she caught only glimpses of him as he worked. He seemed to know most of the people
there. He joked with the men, flirted with the women and teased the children, but there was always a hint of reserve just below the surface. Whenever he happened to catch Maggie watching him, he quickly looked away as if he feared that she might see beneath the superficial charm.

Even her brothers, usually oblivious to such things, noticed the byplay between them.

“Sis, he’s all wrong for you,” her younger brother warned. “Too many secrets. And don’t even think about making him one of your projects. I don’t think he’ll appreciate it. Something tells me your Ryan is troubled by dark moods.”

“When has that ever stopped me?” she replied.

“Unfortunately, never,” Matt said. “But this time you could be in way over your head.”

“Have you even talked to him?” she asked testily.

“You wanted us to steer clear of him,” John reminded her.

“As if my wishes ever mattered to you before,” she scoffed. “Well, if you had talked to Ryan, you would see that he’s one of the good guys. In fact, you ought to know that just from the fact that he’s here today.”

She glanced across the room to where Ryan was serving slices of pumpkin pie to a very pregnant woman and her two dark-haired children. The look on his face was impossible to interpret, but she tried nonetheless. Dismay and sorrow seemed to mingle with friendly concern. She had the sense that he was talking to this woman but seeing something else entirely, something from his own past, perhaps.

Drawn by the scene, she found an excuse to head for the kitchen, slipping in long enough to grab several pies. When she emerged, she was close enough to hear Ryan murmuring encouraging words to the woman. He seemed to be holding
out the promise of a job to help her family get back on its feet. A few minutes later he slipped the husband some money and told him to make sure his wife saw a doctor.

“Come to the pub tomorrow,” he told the man. “We’ll work out your hours then.”

The man beamed at him. “
Gracias, señor.
Thank you. Rosita and I will be there. We are very hard workers. You’ll see. You will never have reason to regret giving us this chance.”

Ryan sighed as the man went to join his wife. Maggie stepped up behind him.

“That was very nice, what you did just then,” she said.

Ryan whirled around, almost dropping the plate he was holding. “Where did you come from?”

“I’ve been here for hours.”

He gave her a sour look. “Believe me, I’m well aware of that. I’ve had to field more than one question about the red-haired angel with the ready smile. You’ve drawn more attention around here today than the turkey.” He didn’t sound especially pleased about it. “I was referring to your popping up just now. Were you eavesdropping on a private conversation?”

“Nope, just bringing out more pies,” she said, holding up the armload she’d retrieved from the kitchen. “I couldn’t help overhearing what you were saying. You’re hiring them?”

He shrugged as if it were nothing. “They need work. I can take on a couple of extra people at this time of year. It’s no big deal.”

“I’m sure it is to them.” Then, to avoid prolonging a topic that obviously made him uncomfortable, she asked, “I understand you’re responsible for providing all this food every year. It’s very generous of you.”

“I have a restaurant. Rory likes to cook for people who appreciate a fine meal,” he said. “Why not help out a good cause?”

Once again he’d dismissed his good deed. She probably should have been impressed by his humility, but she found it oddly worrisome, instead. “Why aren’t you comfortable accepting a compliment?” she asked.

“Maybe it’s because I don’t deserve it,” he said. “I wasn’t the one basting turkeys and pouring pumpkin custard into pie shells all night long. Rory did that, as he has ever since he came to work for me.”

“But I imagine you paid for the ingredients and for Rory’s time,” she countered.

“For the ingredients, yes, but not for Rory’s time. He knows, as I do, what it’s like to do without on a holiday. We try to make sure that at least some people don’t have to know that feeling.”

She studied him intently. “How long have you been doing this?”

“Not that it matters, but ever since I opened the pub. And that’s enough of that,” he said, closing the door on the topic. “I’m sure Father Francis is grateful to you and your family for coming to help out today.”

“It’s been…” She searched for the right word. While helping out had been rewarding, it was what she’d discovered about Ryan Devaney that had been truly important to her. “It’s been enlightening.”

His gaze narrowed at her comment. “I’m glad we’ve been able to provide a bit of entertainment for your holiday,” he said with a touch of bitterness. “Excuse me. I have things to do.”

He brushed past her, but Maggie reached for his arm. When
she touched him, she felt the muscle jerk beneath her fingers. Only when he turned to face her did she speak. “You know that I did not mean that to be insulting,” she said quietly. “Who did this to you? Who made you distrust everyone the way you do?”

Ryan hesitated, his expression still angry. “It’s a long story, and today’s not the time,” he said finally, his voice tight.

Maggie’s gaze was unrelenting. “Will there be a time?”

His gaze locked with hers, and for the longest time she thought he was going to say no, but eventually he sighed heavily.

“I imagine you’ll insist on it,” he said.

Maggie laughed at the note of resignation in his voice. It wasn’t a very big opening, but it was enough. “Yes, Ryan Devaney, you can count on it.”

Because despite all the roadblocks he’d set up and all the alarms going off in her head warning her away, she was very much intrigued with everything about this man.

R
yan was still reeling from the fact that Rosita Gomez, the cook who barely spoke English and knew nothing about Irish food, also happened to be seven months’ pregnant. Father Francis had delicately neglected to mention that fact to Ryan when he’d been touting her for a job at the pub. Ryan could hardly wait to see Rory’s face when he found out. Thankfully, he’d been able to keep the two of them apart at the shelter yesterday. Rory had been too busy to spend much time in the dining room.

But it wouldn’t be long now. Rosita and her husband were due at the pub at two to fill out the necessary paperwork. When Ryan heard the tap on his office door, he assumed it was his two new employees. Instead, he found himself staring at Maggie O’Brien. A sigh escaped before he could stop it.

“You again,” he murmured.

“I hope this isn’t a bad time,” she said.

Ryan desperately wanted to think of an excuse to run her off, but none occurred to him.

“No, it’s fine,” he said, trying to hide his reluctance. “I have a few minutes before my next appointment. Come on in. What brings you into Boston today?”

She held up an armload of shopping bags. “The sales,” she said. “Surely you know this is one of the biggest shopping days of the year. Black Friday, when businesses expect to go from red ink to black for the year.”

“I believe I have read that somewhere,” Ryan said dryly. “An ad or two, maybe? Every TV newscast since last week?”

She laughed. “Probably so.”

“That still doesn’t explain why you’re here. Don’t tell me you happened to have another flat outside my pub because your car’s overloaded.”

“Nope. I have four brand-new tires, thanks to my brother. Matt took the car in this morning, muttering the whole time about how irresponsible I was to let the tires get into such sorry shape in the first place. It made him feel very male and very superior, so I suppose there was a blessing to be had.”

“Well—” Ryan began.

“Don’t you start. Not when I’ve coming bearing gifts.”

Ryan’s gaze narrowed. “Gifts?”

She frowned at him. “Not for you. While my sisters and I were at the sales, we saw a few things we thought Rosita might be able to use for herself and the baby. That is who you’re expecting this afternoon, right? I spoke to her briefly after you and I talked yesterday. I know she wasn’t able to bring much with her to the shelter. Wait till you see.” She poked around in the shopping bags and started pulling out
baby clothes, an expression of pure delight on her face. “Aren’t these the cutest things you’ve ever seen? Look at this.” She held up a tiny little knit cap in pale yellow. “And this.” She retrieved an outfit with ducks embroidered across the front.

When she had his entire desk covered with baby clothes, she sat back. “What do you think?”

“I think you’re amazing,” Ryan blurted, then regretted it when he saw the smile that spread across her face. “I meant that Rosita is going to amazed. Why did you do it? You must have spent a fortune.”

“Everything was on sale,” she reminded him. “And we couldn’t resist.” She held up another huge bag. “There are a few maternity outfits in here for Rosita. These are new, but I have another bag in the car of Colleen’s old maternity clothes. She swears she will never need them again, but if you ask me Daniel will talk her into at least two more kids. He wants a huge family. He was an only child.”

Ryan’s head was spinning. “Colleen is the sister who was ogling me in the kitchen?”

Maggie nodded.

“And Daniel is…?”

“Her husband.”

“Was he at the shelter yesterday?”

“He was there, along with my father and both of my brothers, plus my youngest sister, Katie. My other sister lives too far away to get home for Thanksgiving, but they’ll be here for Christmas. You can’t imagine the chaos.”

Oddly enough, he could. After the twins were born, there had been five children in the Devaney house for two Christmases. Somehow his parents had always seen to it that there
were gifts under the tree, even if they were secondhand toys from the thrift shop in the neighborhood. From the moment he and his brothers had crept downstairs to see if Santa had come, the house had been filled with noise and laughter.

At least that’s the way it had been for a few brief years. Then they’d all been separated, and after that, Christmas had been one more day to be endured, worse than all the other days, because he’d wondered where his brothers were and if they were happier than he was. As he’d drifted from foster home to foster home, always feeling like an outsider, he’d prayed they were.

“Ryan?” Maggie asked softly, her gaze filled with concern. “Is something wrong?”

“No,” he said tightly. “Everything’s fine. Why don’t you stick around and give these things to Rosita? She should be here any minute.”

Maggie shook her head. “I don’t want to embarrass her.”

“She’ll want to thank you, I’m sure.”

“Another time. I should go before she gets here,” she insisted, already heading for the door.

“Wait. Didn’t you say something about having some clothes for Rosita in the car? I’ll walk you out,” Ryan said, surprised that he wasn’t quite ready to see the last of her. She was pushy and intrusive. In fact, she promised to make a nuisance of herself. But she was also warm and generous, a real ray of sunshine. Like a cat seeking warmth on a windowsill he felt himself drawn to her, despite all of his deep-seated reservations about getting involved with anyone.

As he watched her walk to her car, he realized that one of these days he was going to have to decide which mattered more—protecting himself from her prying or accepting her into his heart.

“You weren’t in there long,” Colleen commented, after Maggie had retrieved the bag of used maternity clothes, given them to Ryan and said goodbye. She had noticed that he’d kept a careful distance between himself and the car once he’d realized that her sister was waiting for her.

“Long enough,” Maggie said, satisfied with herself. The meeting had gone precisely the way she’d hoped it would. She had stayed just long enough to remind Ryan that she intended to be a part of his life—at least for the immediate future—but had left before he’d grown weary of her. And with his reluctance so apparent, she hadn’t pressed him to say hello to Colleen. Contact with her family seemed to disturb him, either because he was fearful of getting too involved or because seeing them brought back too many painful memories of the family he’d lost.

“What did he think of all the baby things?” Colleen asked.

“I think he was dumbfounded.”

“Clever of you to find a way to plant the notion of babies in his head. Now he won’t be able to look at you without thinking about having a baby of his own.”

“Colleen, that is
not
what this was about,” Maggie protested. “Those baby clothes were for Rosita.”

Colleen grinned. “But isn’t it nice that they served your purposes, as well?”

“I am not scheming to plant ideas in Ryan’s head,” Maggie insisted.

“Oh, really?”

“Really!”

“Well, intended or not, I’m sure it did the trick. I imagine he’s thinking of you in a whole new way now.”

“Pregnant?” Maggie asked skeptically. “I doubt that. And
don’t you think it’s a giant leap, anyway? He hasn’t even so much as asked me out on a date.”

“But you want him to,” Colleen guessed.

Maggie thought of the way she felt every time Ryan’s blue-eyed gaze settled on her. “Yes, I want him to. He’s a very mysterious, complicated man, and you know how I enjoy unraveling a puzzle.”

“And if he doesn’t ask you out?”

Maggie shrugged. “He owns a pub. I can pretty much see him whenever I want to.”

Colleen seemed surprised by her response. “You would do that? You’d just hang around the pub until he notices you?”

“I might. It’s a great place. You should have come in with me just now. Even at this hour the jukebox was playing and there were groups of people laughing.”

“I figured three would be a crowd.”

“Well, if you had come in, you’d know what I’m talking about. I felt right at home there the second I walked in the other night. It’s not like some sleazy bar. It’s just the way Mom and Dad have always described the pubs in Ireland.”

“I can’t wait to hear what Mom and Dad are going to have to say about this. You know how Dad always warned us to steer clear of bars.”

“You’ll never meet the man of your dreams in a bar,” they both said in a chorus.

Maggie laughed. “How could I forget? But how can they object with Father Francis sitting right there most evenings? Besides, didn’t you pay attention to what I said not five seconds ago? This is a pub, not a bar—there’s a difference.”

“I hope you don’t mind if I sit in while you try explaining that to Dad,” Colleen said.

“Dad’s already well aware of the difference, so I won’t even try explaining it to him. Besides, I’ve always believed in being honest with Mom and Dad about what I’m doing, and expecting them to trust my judgment. They usually do.”

“So when are you going back? Tonight?”

Maggie shook her head. “Even
I
know that’s too soon. I thought I’d give Ryan a day or two to wonder what’s happened to me. I’m thinking I’ll go back the first of the week. Want to come along for a girls’ night out?”

“Something tells me Daniel would object to baby-sitting so I could go hang out with you while you try to pick up a man. If you need a chaperone, take Katie.”

Maggie thought of the way her sister had practically swooned at the sight of Ryan. “Never mind.”

Colleen shot a knowing look at her. “She’s your sister. She would never try to steal your guy.”

“It’s not her I’m worried about. Have you taken a good look at our baby sister? She’s gorgeous, something she doesn’t even realize.”

“And you think Ryan might prefer her?” Colleen asked. “Come on, Mags. He never even gave her a second glance yesterday.”

Maggie regarded her sister with surprise. “He didn’t?”

“Sweetie, he never took his eyes off you. Didn’t you know that?”

Maggie shook her head. “I had no idea. I thought maybe I was fighting an uphill battle.”

“You may be,” Colleen warned. “He doesn’t strike me as someone who wants to fall in love. He may not even believe in it.”

“That’s what Father Francis said, as a matter of fact,” Maggie admitted.

“Well then, at least you know what you’re up against. But a powerful attraction has a way of making a man take risks he never intended. It’s all a matter of patience and persistence.”

“I was blessed with one—” she thought of her total lack of patience “—but definitely not the other.”

“Then Ryan promises to be good for you in more ways than one, doesn’t he? Just keep reminding yourself—if he’s the one, then he’s worth waiting for.”

“You might have to do the reminding,” Maggie said.

Her sister chuckled. “Oh, sweetie, that will be my plea-sure.”

Throughout what seemed like the longest weekend on record, Ryan’s gaze kept drifting toward the door each time it opened. He kept expecting—hoping—to see Maggie coming in with each blast of icy air. He was so obvious that there was little chance that Father Francis or Rory hadn’t taken note of him doing it, but they’d remained oddly silent.

Monday the pub was closed. That was the day Ryan usually spent running errands and catching up on paperwork, but he couldn’t seem to concentrate today. He finally gave up in disgust around four-thirty and headed out to take a brisk walk to clear his head. Maybe that would push images of Maggie out of it.

Instead, when he opened the door, he bumped straight into her. He stood there staring like an awkward teenager. “Maggie, what are you doing here?”

She swallowed hard and backed up a step. “I came by for a cup of coffee or two. I’m freezing.”

“The bar’s closed today, but I’d be happy to fix you one,” Ryan said, stepping aside to let her in.

“Closed?” she asked blankly.

He grinned. “As in not open for business,” he explained patiently. He pointed toward the carved wooden sign posted by the door, where it plainly stated that the pub was closed on Mondays.

“Oh,” she said, her cheeks flaming. “I never even looked at the sign. I just assumed, I guess, that you were open every day, but of course you’d need time off. I’ll come back another time.” She whirled around.

“Maggie?”

“Yes.”

“I thought you were freezing.”

She faced him with a defiant lift of her chin. “It’s nothing. I’ll just turn up the car heater.”

He should let her go. He certainly shouldn’t be inviting her in when there was no one around to serve as a buffer, no other customers needing his attention. Still, he found himself saying, “I wouldn’t mind having some coffee myself. I was going for a walk to clear the cobwebs out of my head, but coffee will accomplish the same thing.” Never mind that he’d already drunk gallons of it and Maggie was the only thought cluttering his brain.

She beamed at him. “Well, if you’re sure.”

Ryan wasn’t sure of anything, not when she looked at him like that. “Come on in,” he said, “before it’s as cold inside as out.”

When she was in, he closed the door and flipped the lock, then retreated behind the bar. He figured it would give him the illusion of safety, maybe keep him from reaching for her
and kissing her until her cheeks flamed pink from something other than the chilly air.

When he’d fixed a fresh pot of coffee and poured two cups, he handed one to her, then took a sip of his own.

“Do you need to stay behind the bar?” she asked. “Can’t you come out here and sit next to me? Or maybe we could go to one of the booths?”

“I’m fine here,” he said. “This is where I’m used to being.”

“And we definitely wouldn’t want to drag you out of your comfort zone,” she said, her eyes sparkling with undisguised amusement.

He scowled at that. “There are reasons why people have comfort zones,” he said. “Why mess with them?”

“It’s called living,” she pointed out. She patted the bar stool next to her. “Come on, Ryan. Take a risk. We’ll save the cozy booth for another day.”

He sighed and gave in to the inevitable. He walked around the bar, but when he sat, he carefully left one stool between them. She bit back a grin.