“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.
Chapter Seven
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.
He dreaded the prospect of going inside and getting caught up in the kind of teasing camaraderie he’d witnessed when the family had helped out at the homeless shelter. That kind of situation always made him uncomfortable. It caused him to feel more alone, more like an outsider than ever.
He sighed and looked down to find Maggie regarding him with sympathy.
“It will be okay,” she reassured him.
“I’ll stay long enough for a cup of coffee. That’s it,” he said.
“That was the deal.”
“That was the deal,” she agreed, leading the way to the kitchen door.
Inside—to his surprise, given the late hour—they found bedlam. Six people were sitting around the kitchen table, poker chips piled in front of them, making enough noise for twenty.
“You cheated,” Katie accused her father, barely sparing a glance for Maggie and Ryan as they walked in.
“He most certainly did,” one of Maggie’s brothers agreed.
Garrett O’Brien rose to his feet, practically quivering with indignation. “The day my own children accuse me of cheating is a sad day, indeed.”
“Oh, sit down,” Nell ordered. “You did cheat. I saw you myself.”
Garrett—most of the fight drained out of him—turned to Ryan for support. “Can you imagine a man’s own wife saying such a thing?”
Ryan grinned, his nervousness dissipating. He could imagine Nell O’Brien saying whatever she wanted to whomever she wanted and expecting to be taken seriously. “Well now, I imagine she’s a woman who always speaks her mind,” he said cautiously, not sure exactly how welcome his opinion might be.
“And always truthfully,” Katie added. “Pull up a chair, Ryan. These guys are just about tapped out. We need deep pockets to join the game.”
Ryan felt Maggie’s gaze on him.
“Are you willing?” she asked. “Can you stay for a bit?”
Ryan weighed his reluctance against the prospect of a few good poker hands. “I can stay.”
“Bring the chairs from the dining room, then,” Garrett said. “We’ll push over to make room. Maggie, get the man a beer.”
“Coffee would be better,” Ryan said. “I have to drive back into Boston after this.”
“Nonsense,” Nell said. “Not when there’s a perfectly good guest room that’s unoccupied tonight.”
“We’ll debate that when the time comes,” Ryan said, refusing to commit to staying under this roof, especially with the tempting Maggie just down the hall.
Maggie set his coffee in front of him, then slipped onto her own chair right next to him and leaned closer to whisper, “That’s the last act of kindness you can expect from me. When it comes to poker, I play a take-no-prisoners game.”
“Listen to her,” her brother Matt said. “Our Maggie liked to stay up and play with Dad’s cronies as she was growing up. Dad allowed it because she split her winnings with him.”
Ryan laughed, regarding Maggie with new respect. “Well, we’ll just have to wait and see if you’ve lost your edge, now won’t we?”
“Trust me, there are some things a woman never forgets,” she retorted, dealing the cards with quick, professional efficiency.
Ryan drew a scowl from Maggie and hoots from her family when he won the first hand. When it
