Ryan's Place - By Sherryl Woods Page 0,49
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 bar,” he called to his waitress. “I have an errand to run.”
“We’re filled to overflowing and you want to run an errand?” she asked, regarding him with astonishment.
“Last-minute Christmas shopping,” he said.
A grin spread across her face. “And if I’m not mistaken, that was Maggie O’Brien’s mother who just came breezing through here. Does that mean you’re going to buy something special for Maggie?”
“You can jump to whatever conclusions you want,” he said, “as long as I can get out of here before the stores close.”
“Go,” Maureen said. “Besides, I imagine Maggie will be along any minute now to help out. Shall I tell her you’re out shopping for her?”
He scowled. “You’ll do no such thing, or your bonus for this year will turn out to be ashes and switches.”
Maureen laughed at the empty threat. “You gave me my bonus last week.”
He sighed. “Next year, then.”
As if the holidays weren’t stressful enough for him, why was it that every female he knew had suddenly decided this was the perfect season to drive him crazy?
Chapter Eleven
“It’s a good thing you’re doing,” Father Francis assured Ryan as they drove to Maggie’s house on Christmas afternoon after a busy morning at the shelter during which Ryan had played Santa to dozens of children. “It’s about time you spent a holiday with a real family, rather than just the lost souls at the shelter or the strays who wander into the pub.”
“This from a man who is usually among those strays,” Ryan retorted.
“Only because I worry about you,” the