The Devaney Brothers: Ryan and Sean: Ryan's Place

He grinned. “There could be, but I’m satisfied with things as they are. When I’m not, I’ll let you know.”

Maggie knew a brick wall when she slammed into one. “I’ll be waiting to hear from you.”

“When it comes to this particular topic, you could be in for a long wait,” he warned.

“I have the time,” she told him.

“And why is that? Shouldn’t you be starting that search for a new job?”

“Not just yet. I’m taking the next few weeks to think things through and decide what I want to do. I have an MBA that’s going to waste.”

He frowned. “Just so you don’t get it into your head that this is the place to put it to use,” he said. “You’re overqualified.”

“Okay, okay, I get it. I’ll back off,” she said, then murmured under her breath, “for now.”

He scowled. “I heard that.”

Maggie beamed at him. “Just a fair warning,” she said cheerfully as she slid off her bar stool.

“You leaving?” he asked.

She grinned at the faint disappointment in his tone. “You should be so lucky. Actually, I’m getting an apron. In case you haven’t noticed, the place is packed, and Maureen and Juan have their hands full again.”

Ryan shook his head. “A lot of people think a vacation is best spent on a beach in the Caribbean this time of year, not waiting tables in a pub.”

“I’m not one of them,” she said, grabbing an order pad and heading for a table of couples across the room.

“Bless you,” Maureen said as she passed Maggie. “I don’t know where everyone came from tonight, but they’re all tired and cranky and starving.”

“More holiday shopping,” Maggie suggested. “And it’s only going to get worse when desperation sets in.”

“Now there’s a cheerful prospect,” Maureen said, lifting her gaze heavenward. “Saints protect us from the truly desperate.”

Maggie took orders from the three couples, along with a request for the band that was just setting up. She left that and a tip with the lead guitarist, then took the dinner order in to Rory.

The cook beamed when he saw her. “You’re still in one piece, I see. Tell me, did you win Ryan over to your way of thinking?”

“Hardly. The man’s head is like a rock.”

“Aye, that it is. I’ve been wanting to experiment a bit with the menu, but all of my pleas have fallen on deaf ears,” he said, sounding resigned.

“Speaking of changes to the menu, where’s Rosita and her recipe for enchiladas?” Maggie asked.

“I sent her home,” Rory said.

Maggie regarded him indignantly. “Just like that? She needs the job.”

He frowned at her. “Did I say anything about firing her? Her ankles were swelling. And don’t you be telling Ryan, either. There’s no need for him to dock her pay. As you said yourself, she needs every bit of it to prepare for the baby.”

Relieved, Maggie grinned at him. “Why, Rory, I believe the reports of your temper have been greatly exaggerated. You’re a softie.”

“Only when it comes to mothers-to-be, so don’t be getting any ideas about testing my patience,” he said. “I expect the waitstaff around here to deliver my meals to the tables while they’re still hot. Maureen’s order’s ready. You can take it.”

“Yes, sir,” she said, loading her tray with the steaming plates and heading for the door.

For the rest of the evening, there was little time for idle chitchat with anyone. As she rushed from table to table, Maggie felt Ryan’s steady gaze following her. Just before midnight he nabbed her arm and dragged her to a stool at the end of the bar.

“Sit. Maureen and Juan can handle things from here on out. Have you eaten a bite all evening?” he asked.

“No time,” she said, sighing as she kicked off her shoes.

He uttered a sound of disgust and headed for the kitchen. He came back with a plump ham and cheese sandwich and a bowl of Rory’s thick potato soup.

“I can’t eat at this hour,” she protested.

“You can and you will,” he said. “I will not be responsible for sending you home half-starved. I won’t risk Nell and Garrett’s wrath coming down on my head.”

Maggie grinned at him. “I’m a grown woman. I take responsibility for my own actions.”

“Do they know that? Aren’t these the very same parents who worry frantically if you’re so much as a few minutes late? Didn’t you tell me that yourself on the first night you came through my doors?”

“At least there’s one thing I’ve said that you listened to,” Maggie retorted.

“I hear every word out of your mouth,” Ryan countered. “I just pick and choose what to ignore.” He gestured toward the untouched sandwich. “Now when you’ve eaten that, I’ll drive you home.”

“I have my car.”

“Then I’ll follow you home. It’s too late for you to be driving around the streets of Boston all alone. And yes, I know you’re a grown woman, but you’re not a foolish one. You’ll accept my offer and be gracious about it. Otherwise, I’ll be the one worrying through the night.”

She met his gaze. “Really? You would worry if I drove home alone?”

He sighed heavily. “Yes, really.”

Pleased, she relented. “Then you may follow me home, if you agree to come in for coffee when we get there. Deal?” She held out her hand.

Ryan regarded her steadily, reluctance written all over his face. Eventually, though, he clasped her hand in his. “Deal.”

It was such a silly, simple agreement, but Maggie felt as if they’d taken a giant leap forward. Now all that remained was to see how many steps backward would follow.

7

Ryan approached the O’Brien house filled with trepidation. He’d expected to find most of the lights off and the family in bed, but instead it looked as if there were a party going on. He said as much when he joined Maggie in the driveway.

“I probably shouldn’t intrude,” he told her. “It looks as if your parents are entertaining.”

“Nonsense,” she said, slipping her arm through his. “I imagine some of the family dropped by and they got to playing cards or something. You’ll be welcome. Besides, we had a deal. You can’t back out now.”

It had been a stupid deal. He’d known that when he made it. He should never have agreed to come inside this house where there was so much warmth. It made him yearn for things he’d never had.