Ryan's Place Part 19

"Just think for a minute about what happened to Lamar because his daddy and I didn't know Jamal's medical history and what it could mean for our boy. You haven't said if you're thinking of marrying Maggie, but if that thought has crossed your mind, you need to know something about this whole genetics thing."

Ryan seized on that as if he'd been presented with a lifeline. "You're absolutely right," he told Let.i.tia. For the first time, he had a purely practical reason for conducting a search for his family-one he could embrace without risking his heart.

Let.i.tia looked troubled by his reaction. "That shouldn't be the only reason you go looking for them," she cautioned, as if she'd read his mind.

"I know," he acknowledged, but it was reason enough. A nice, safe safe reason. He stood up and bent down to kiss her cheek. "Thank you." reason. He stood up and bent down to kiss her cheek. "Thank you."

"I didn't do a thing," she said.

Ryan grinned at her. "Accept my thanks graciously," he chided.

Let.i.tia laughed. "It's good to see a man who's not too old to learn a thing or two. Now, get on out of here and take care of business. And remember-I expect an invitation to the wedding."

He hesitated at the suggestion. "I never said anything about a wedding."

"The day will come," she said confidently. "Unless you're a fool, and I've seen nothing to suggest that."

"Thanks, I think. I'll try to see Lamar before he leaves the hospital, but in case I don't, make sure I know how to find you."

"You can count on that. Like I told you, you're family now," she said, giving his hand a squeeze. "And I never lose track of family, not for long, anyway."

Ryan left the shelter feeling blessed. Only a few short weeks ago he'd been satisfied with a handful of friends and a ton of acquaintances. Now he seemed to be collecting families who were determined to draw him in. Maybe if his own family rejected him for a second time, it wouldn't be quite so painful.

Now that the decision to find his biological family had been made, Ryan was anxious to get started. Unfortunately, he had no idea where to begin. He had no clue how to conduct a search for people missing for so many years. Hiring a private eye seemed like the best option, but the prospect of sharing the story with a stranger was painful. Turning to Jack Reilly once again made it easier.

To Ryan's surprise, telling the whole sad tale to Jack turned out to hurt less than it had when he'd told it to Maggie, or even to Let.i.tia. Jack was a professional. He was used to listening without comment, and he'd probably heard far more sordid tales than the one Ryan had to tell. Throughout the conversation, the investigator was completely matter-of-fact, taking notes and asking questions about facts and places, not about emotions.

When Jack had everything he needed, Ryan said, "One last thing-don't say anything about this to Maggie, okay?"

"You're the client," Jack said readily. "Anything you tell me is strictly confidential."

Ryan was relieved. He didn't want her to know until he had something solid to report. Besides, there was still the very real chance that even once he'd found his parents or siblings, he wouldn't be able to confront them. Why get Maggie's hopes up, only to back out?

"How long is this likely to take?" he asked Jack.

"Hard to say. The trail's been cold for a long time. Since you were all fairly young when you went into foster care, it's possible that the youngest boys were adopted. Their names could have been changed. If that happened and the records are sealed, it'll take a miracle to find them."

"And my parents?"

"Easier, I'd say, depending on where they ran off to. I'll have a better idea once I've run a few simple checks on credit reports, that kind of thing. As soon as I know anything, I'll let you know." He studied Ryan curiously. "It's been a lot of years. Is there some reason you're in a rush all of a sudden?"

"I'm not in a rush," Ryan said. "Not exactly."

But until he'd found these missing pieces to the past, he couldn't begin to think about the future with Maggie that he'd begun to yearn for.

Chapter Thirteen.

Something was up with Ryan. He was edgy and distracted, and he seemed to be spending a lot of time huddled in a booth with Jack Reilly. Whenever Maggie approached, they both fell silent. It was getting on her nerves.

She was behind the bar taking inventory, something Ryan had grudgingly allowed her to do, when he came back after one of those secret talks. She saw the evident frustration in his eyes and decided to confront him.

"Okay, that's it," she said, putting down the legal pad and pen she'd been using to take notes. She scowled at him. "What is going on?"

Ryan stared at her blankly. It was a pretty good act. Even she could admit that. He looked as if he had no idea at all what she was talking about.

"You and Jack," she said, to clarify things. "What's up with all the whispering?"

"It's about a case he's working on."

"Why can he talk to you you about it?" she asked, not buying it for a minute, "yet the two of you clam up whenever I come around." about it?" she asked, not buying it for a minute, "yet the two of you clam up whenever I come around."

"It's nothing for you to worry about," Ryan said dismissively, picking up the legal pad and scanning her notes. "How's our supply of Irish whisky?"

Maggie frowned at the deliberate evasiveness. "We have an entire case, which you should know, since you ordered it day before yesterday."

He gave her a sheepish grin. "So I did." He stepped closer. "Must be you. You have a way of making me forget everything except my name." He tucked a finger under her chin and kissed her thoroughly. "Now that's something I've been waiting to do ever since you walked through the door tonight."

Her gaze narrowed at the touch of blarney in his voice. "Ryan Devaney, you're keeping something from me," she accused. "And you're being patronizing about it, as well. Just so you know, I don't like it."

"Is that so?" he asked, still not taking her nearly seriously enough. "I thought you were a woman who was fond of secrets."

"I'm a woman who is fond of unraveling unraveling secrets. There's a difference. I don't like things being secrets. There's a difference. I don't like things being kept kept from me." from me."

"Is it not possible that some things don't concern you?" he inquired.

"Of course it's possible," she retorted impatiently. "But something tells me that's not the case right now."

He beckoned her closer. "If you were to put aside all those doubts and questions, I could close up now and we could go upstairs."

"You shouldn't use s.e.x as a distraction," she chided, but her mood was definitely shifting. Maybe she didn't have to have answers to all those burning questions just yet. Tomorrow might be soon enough. "Though if it were a promise of outrageously wicked s.e.x you were making, I could be persuaded to go along with it."

He leaned down and whispered in her ear. His husky voice and the promise of something absolutely sinful shot the last of her resolve to smithereens. When he was in this kind of dangerous mood, he was practically irresistible.

"Lock the door," she said, her voice breathless.

His expression turned smug. "You're a surprisingly predictable woman at times, Maggie O'Brien."

Maggie glowered at him. "Not a compliment," she warned.

He didn't seem disturbed. "There are other times, though-and far more of them, I might add-when you're so unpredictable you make a man's head spin."

Pleased by that a.s.sessment, she kissed him. "Much better. Which am I tonight?"

He gave her a considering look. "Now that remains to be seen, doesn't it?"

Heat shot through her at the speculative gleam in his eyes. She headed for the stairs. "If you dawdle over closing up, I'll have to come down here and have my way with you on the bar."

He laughed. "You've been begging to do that since the first night we made love. One of these nights I'll have to accommodate you, though it seems to me that a bed is a more practical, comfortable choice."

"Sometimes the thrill of accepting a dare offsets whatever discomfort is involved," she teased. "But tonight the bed will do."

In fact, just about any place where she could feel Ryan's arms around her and his body joined with hers was a magical place indeed. And with each and every day that pa.s.sed, Maggie was growing more and more confident that Ryan felt the same.

If only there weren't this faint shadow threatening her happiness.

Two days later Maggie looked up from behind the bar and spotted her entire family coming through the door. Her mother shot her a rueful look as they made their way to the biggest table in the room. Maggie sighed. She might not be able to kick them right back out, but she could certainly avoid them, at least for a while. She turned to Maureen.

"That crowd that just came in," she said, nodding in her family's direction. "They belong to me, but I think I'll give you the pleasure of waiting on them. I have the feeling they're here on a mission."

"What sort of mission?" Maureen inquired curiously.

"I haven't been home for a few days now."

Maureen's gaze shot to Ryan, who was just emerging from the kitchen. "I see. How lovely!"

"I imagine that depends on your point of view," Maggie said, eyeing her family warily. "Go and keep them occupied, while I warn Ryan."

Maureen laughed. "Judging from that panicked look in his eyes, he doesn't need warning," she said, but she took her order pad and made her way to the table.

Ryan joined Maggie behind the bar. "Exactly how dire is this situation?" he asked, his gaze locked worriedly on the O'Brien entourage.

"I imagine that depends," she said. "If you can cope with a few questions about your intentions, and a.s.suming they're honorable enough, I imagine the weapons will remain sheathed."

Ryan swallowed hard. "Well now, there's an incentive to race over to St. Mary's and pray. Where's Father Francis when I need him? They'd never attack with a priest beside me."

"Don't count on it," Maggie said. "There is one other choice. I could go over there, announce that I'm the happiest I've been in years, and tell them if they do one single thing to mess that up, I'll never forgive them."

Ryan nodded. "I like that choice."

"Of course you do," she said. "It keeps you out of harm's way."

"True enough," he admitted. "But before you go, mind telling me something? Is it true what you just said?"

"What?"

"That you're happy?"

She regarded him with shock. "How could you possibly question that?"

He shrugged. "It's a habit, I guess." Avoiding her gaze, he added, "Whenever something seems too good to be true, I'm always waiting for it to be s.n.a.t.c.hed away."

His tone was so bleak and there was such sadness behind the words that Maggie made a decision. She latched on to his hand with a firm grip. "You're coming with me," she said, as she dragged him toward the table.

When she reached her family, she pinned her gaze on her mother. "I imagine you came tonight to hear the band," she said. "It's a wonderful group just over from Dublin."

"The music be d.a.m.ned," John said, scowling at Ryan. "We came because you've all but vanished from the house. We wanted to see if you were all right."

"And why wouldn't I be?" Maggie inquired. "I'm with Ryan, aren't I?"

"That's what we've been worrying about," Matt said. "Do you really know what you're doing? Has he made any promises?" His gaze was locked on Ryan, even though he'd addressed the questions to her.

Maggie rolled her eyes at the growling note of protectiveness in his voice. "I haven't asked for any," she said. "And what goes on between Ryan and me is our business. He makes me happy. That's all that should concern any of you."

Ryan met John's gaze, then Matt's. "I can understand your concern," he said. "If I had a sister like Maggie, I'd want to do everything in my power to keep her from getting hurt, too."

"So?" John pushed.

"I'm not going to hurt her," Ryan said. "Not intentionally, anyway."

When her brothers seemed about to leap on the opening he'd left himself, Maggie's mother interceded. "That's good enough for me," she said cheerfully. "Shouldn't you back off now, Matthew? John?" It was quite clearly not a request but an order.

"I haven't heard a word about marriage," John said, defying her.

Ryan looked him in the eye. "And you're not the one I'd be proposing to, either."

Katie and Colleen smothered laughter at John's look of indignation.

"I'd say he has you there," Matt said, relenting a little. He looked back at Ryan. "Just know that we're keeping an eye on things."

"That's as it should be," Ryan agreed, accepting the warning.

Maggie's father had kept silent through the entire exchange, but he gave a nod of satisfaction now. "That's that, then. I'll have a gla.s.s of your finest ale. Can you join us, lad?"

"I'm needed at the bar just now, but I'll be back," Ryan promised. "Maggie, why don't you join your family for dinner? It's on the house."

"You cannot be giving away dinner to a crowd like this," she retorted, thinking of the dent it would make in his bottom line for the night. "What kind of business practice is that? Next thing you know, all your regulars will be coming in with their families and asking for the same deal you gave the O'Briens."

Her brothers hooted. "Now isn't that what every man needs, a woman with a head for business standing beside him?" John said.

"But at the moment, it is my business," Ryan said, his gaze clashing with hers in a test of wills with which she was increasingly familiar. "And I'm of a mind to buy dinner for your family."

"Then we'll be grateful for it," her mother said, giving Maggie a pointed look. "Won't we, Maggie?"

Maggie uttered a sigh of resignation and pulled up a chair beside her mother. She knew better than they exactly what Ryan was doing. He was hoping to pacify the wolves with a hearty meal...and just in case it didn't work, he was throwing her to them.