“Okay,” Rory declared, “there are too many people in my kitchen. You two, out. I’ll fix you an omelette and bring it out, or would you prefer a sandwich since we’re well into afternoon now?”
“An omelette sounds lovely,” Maggie said.
“Perhaps Rosita could fix it,” Ryan suggested.
“She’s on a break,” Rory retorted emphatically.
“Come on,” Maggie encouraged before Ryan could debate the topic.
“I knew hiring that woman was a mistake the instant I saw she was pregnant,” he complained as they went to a booth. “If nothing else, Rory is gallant. I knew he’d never let her do a lick of work.”
“If it’s any consolation, I think Rosita is as frustrated as you are.”
“That doesn’t actually help. I hired her because Rory claimed to need help.”
“And now he’s satisfied. Maybe all he really needed was company.”
“I am not paying someone to sit in there and chat with him. Besides, she doesn’t know enough English to carry on a conversation.”
“Oh, I think she knows enough,” Maggie said, then captured and held his gaze. “So, Rory tells me you slept down here. Mind telling me why?”
“I sat down for a minute and fell asleep,” he said defensively. “There’s nothing more to it.”
“But why were you down here in the first place? You were as exhausted as I was. I thought you were going straight to sleep on the sofa upstairs.”
He shrugged. “I changed my mind.”
“I hope it wasn’t because of me.”
He didn’t look away as she’d anticipated. Instead, he turned the challenge around.
“Now why would you have anything to do with it?” he asked.
“Oh, I don’t know,” she said with an offhand shrug. “Maybe because you were tempted to crawl into your bed with me.”
“Absolutely not,” he said.
Maggie laughed at the too-quick response. “Liar, but I’m going to let that pass this time.”
“How gracious of you,” he said sourly. “Did you explain to your mother that I couldn’t come to dinner?”
“She wasn’t home. I left her a message to that effect. Just to prepare you, though, don’t be surprised if she comes in here to demand an explanation.”
He frowned at that. “Can’t anyone in your family take a simple no for an answer?”
“Not usually,” she said cheerfully. “You should probably try to get used to it.”
“Why? Eventually you’ll go back to Maine, and that will be that. I’ll probably never see you or any of your family again.”
Maggie shook her head at the note of resignation in his voice. “That’s not how it works with us. Face it, Devaney, we’re here to stay.”
“What about Maine?” he asked, a faint note of desperation in his voice. Apparently, he’d been clinging to the notion that she would be leaving after the holidays so he could let himself off the hook and never have to deal with his all-too-apparent feelings for her.
“I’ve decided not to go back,” she announced, making the decision on the spot. Whatever happened between her and Ryan, she wanted to remain in Boston. And, if she had her way, she would work right here, by his side. Eventually maybe he’d even let her get her hands on his accounting system so she could bring him into the twenty-first century.
His gaze narrowed. “Why not?”
“There’s nothing for me there,” she said.
“And here?”
“That remains to be seen.”
Ryan sighed heavily at her response, but Maggie was almost certain there was a slight flicker of relief in his eyes. It wasn’t much, but she was going to cling to that with everything she had.
A week later, with Christmas only days away, Ryan was still cursing the fact that he hadn’t done everything he could to persuade Maggie that she belonged in Maine. The only trouble would have been that he didn’t believe it. It was more and more evident to him that she belonged right here, making him laugh with her stories about her family.
Making him yearn.
Even so, he caught himself before he allowed her to weave a spell around him that couldn’t be broken. Though the invitations to join the O’Briens for dinner came almost daily, he determinedly turned down every single one. He was pretty sure he was finally getting through to Maggie that what they had now was as far as he was going to allow things to go.
Of course, just when he was feeling confident, he looked up and spotted her mother coming through the pub’s door with a determined glint in her eyes. Maggie had warned him about precisely this, but as the days had gone by, he’d put the possibility of a direct confrontation with Nell O’Brien from his mind. Now, on Christmas Eve, she was standing squarely in front of him, hands on hips and a no-nonsense expression on her face.
“I am going to pretend that you haven’t rudely turned down every single invitation Maggie’s offered,” she said, eyes flashing. “I will not allow you to say no to having Christmas dinner with us tomorrow. Father Francis is invited, as well.”
“The shelter—” Ryan began, only to have his words cut off.
“Dinner at the shelter is at noon. I checked,” she told him. “We’ll eat at five. That should give you both plenty of time to get there.” She tilted her head in a way that reminded him of Maggie. “Any questions?”
Ryan knew when he was beaten. “No, ma’am.”
“Then I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Yes, thank you. Can I bring anything?”
“Just Father Francis and a pleasant attitude,” she said, then kissed his cheek. “And a small token for Maggie, perhaps. I know she has a little something for you.”
Ryan sighed. He’d already seen the perfect gift for Maggie, but he’d kept himself from buying it. He’d told himself that any present at all would carry implications of a connection he was trying not to encourage. He should have known it was another bad decision on his part, should have realized that she would have no such reticence about buying him something.
“Maureen, watch the
