Ryan's Place Part 5

Maggie regarded her sister with surprise. "He didn't?"

"Sweetie, he never took his eyes off you. Didn't you know that?"

Maggie shook her head. "I had no idea. I thought maybe I was fighting an uphill battle."

"You may be," Colleen warned. "He doesn't strike me as someone who wants to fall in love. He may not even believe in it."

"That's what Father Francis said, as a matter of fact," Maggie admitted.

"Well then, at least you know what you're up against. But a powerful attraction has a way of making a man take risks he never intended. It's all a matter of patience and persistence."

"I was blessed with one-" she thought of her total lack of patience "-but definitely not the other."

"Then Ryan promises to be good for you in more ways than one, doesn't he? Just keep reminding yourself-if he's the one, then he's worth waiting for."

"You might have to do the reminding," Maggie said.

Her sister chuckled. "Oh, sweetie, that will be my plea-sure."

Throughout what seemed like the longest weekend on record, Ryan's gaze kept drifting toward the door each time it opened. He kept expecting-hoping-to see Maggie coming in with each blast of icy air. He was so obvious that there was little chance that Father Francis or Rory hadn't taken note of him doing it, but they'd remained oddly silent.

Monday the pub was closed. That was the day Ryan usually spent running errands and catching up on paperwork, but he couldn't seem to concentrate today. He finally gave up in disgust around four-thirty and headed out to take a brisk walk to clear his head. Maybe that would push images of Maggie out of it.

Instead, when he opened the door, he b.u.mped straight into her. He stood there staring like an awkward teenager. "Maggie, what are you doing here?"

She swallowed hard and backed up a step. "I came by for a cup of coffee or two. I'm freezing."

"The bar's closed today, but I'd be happy to fix you one," Ryan said, stepping aside to let her in.

"Closed?" she asked blankly.

He grinned. "As in not open for business," he explained patiently. He pointed toward the carved wooden sign posted by the door, where it plainly stated that the pub was closed on Mondays.

"Oh," she said, her cheeks flaming. "I never even looked at the sign. I just a.s.sumed, I guess, that you were open every day, but of course you'd need time off. I'll come back another time." She whirled around.

"Maggie?"

"Yes."

"I thought you were freezing."

She faced him with a defiant lift of her chin. "It's nothing. I'll just turn up the car heater."

He should let her go. He certainly shouldn't be inviting her in when there was no one around to serve as a buffer, no other customers needing his attention. Still, he found himself saying, "I wouldn't mind having some coffee myself. I was going for a walk to clear the cobwebs out of my head, but coffee will accomplish the same thing." Never mind that he'd already drunk gallons of it and Maggie was the only thought cluttering his brain.

She beamed at him. "Well, if you're sure."

Ryan wasn't sure of anything, not when she looked at him like that. "Come on in," he said, "before it's as cold inside as out."

When she was in, he closed the door and flipped the lock, then retreated behind the bar. He figured it would give him the illusion of safety, maybe keep him from reaching for her and kissing her until her cheeks flamed pink from something other than the chilly air.

When he'd fixed a fresh pot of coffee and poured two cups, he handed one to her, then took a sip of his own.

"Do you need to stay behind the bar?" she asked. "Can't you come out here and sit next to me? Or maybe we could go to one of the booths?"

"I'm fine here," he said. "This is where I'm used to being."

"And we definitely wouldn't want to drag you out of your comfort zone," she said, her eyes sparkling with undisguised amus.e.m.e.nt.

He scowled at that. "There are reasons why people have comfort zones," he said. "Why mess with them?"

"It's called living," she pointed out. She patted the bar stool next to her. "Come on, Ryan. Take a risk. We'll save the cozy booth for another day."

He sighed and gave in to the inevitable. He walked around the bar, but when he sat, he carefully left one stool between them. She bit back a grin.

"Oh, well, that's progress anyway," she teased. "No need to rush things."

"Maggie, why are you here? It's not as if this is the only place in town where you can get a coffee."

"But it's the only place where I know the owner," she said. "By the way, since you are the owner and it's your day off, what are you doing here?"

"Catching up on this and that," he said evasively.

"Doesn't sound like much of a day off to me. Have you ever heard of taking a real break?"

"To do what?" he asked, genuinely baffled.

She regarded him with blatant pity. "Whatever you want."

"I want to catch up on all the things I don't get to do when this place is busy," he said defensively. "Paperwork, bookkeeping, checking supplies."

Maggie shook her head. "Don't you have a hobby?"

"No."

"Something you enjoy doing to relax?" she persisted.

Uncomplicated s.e.x relaxed him, but Ryan seriously doubted she wanted to hear about that. And today s.e.x had been the last thing on his mind. Okay, not exactly true, he mentally corrected. s.e.x with Maggie had been very much on his mind, which he'd concluded was a really, really bad idea.

Even so, he couldn't quite keep himself from giving her a blatant once-over that had her blushing.

"Not that," she said, evidently grasping his meaning with no trouble at all.

"Too bad," he teased. "I do find that relaxes me quite a bit."

Her gaze locked with his. "Perhaps another time," she said in a deliberately prim little voice.

Ryan choked on the sip of coffee he'd just taken. "What did you say?" When she started to reply, he cut her off. "Never mind. Let's not go there."

Now it was her turn to regard him with a knowing look. "Oh? Why is that?"

"Maggie, what do you want from me?" He couldn't seem to prevent the helpless, bewildered note in his voice.

Her expression faltered at the direct question. "Honestly?"

He nodded.

"I'm not entirely sure," she replied, as if she found the uncertainty as disconcerting as he did.

"Then you're playing a risky game," he warned.

"I know," she agreed, meeting his gaze. "But I can't seem to stop myself. I keep finding myself drawn here. There's something about this place, about you..." Her voice faltered and she shrugged. "I can't explain it."

Gazes locked, they both fell silent. Finally Maggie sighed and looked away.

"Can I ask you something?" she said eventually, still not meeting his gaze.

"Sure."

"Father Francis told me something. He said that you don't believe in love."

"Father Francis has a big mouth, but he's right. I don't," Ryan said grimly.

"Why?"

Rather than answering, he said, "I gather you do believe in it. Why?"

"Because I see it every single day. I see it between my parents. I've felt their love since the day I was born. I see it with my brothers and their wives, with Colleen and her husband. There's nothing they wouldn't do for each other or for their families."

Ryan listened, trying to put his skepticism aside. He tried to imagine being surrounded by such examples. He couldn't. His own experience had been the exact opposite. There'd been a time when he'd thought his parents loved him and his brothers, but then they'd vanished without a trace. He'd been forced to question whether their love had ever been real.

"Have you experienced it yourself?" he asked.

"No, but I know it exists because I can feel it just by walking into a room with my family. It's in their laughter, in the way they look at each other, in the way they touch each other. How can you dismiss that when it's right in front of you?"

"No," he said quietly. "It's in front of you. you. I've never seen it." I've never seen it."

Because he didn't want to get into a long, drawn-out argument over the existence of love, he deliberately stood up. "I'd better finish running those errands now."

Maggie looked as if she might argue, but then she put down her cup and picked up her coat. "Thanks for the coffee."

"No problem." He jammed his hands in his pockets as he followed her to the door.

She opened the door, then hesitated. This time her gaze clashed with his in an obvious dare. "I'll keep coming back, you know."

An odd sense of relief stole through Ryan at her words-part warning, part promise.

"Unless you tell me to stay away," she challenged, her gaze steady.

"Whatever," he murmured as if the decision were of no consequence.

Her lips curved up. "I'll take that as an invitation."

Before he realized her intention, she stood on tiptoe and pressed her lips to his cheek.

"See you," she said cheerfully, then disappeared down the block before he could gather his thoughts.

Ryan stared into the shadows of dusk, hoping for one last glimpse, but she was gone.

"That was a touching scene," Rory said, stepping out of the shadows.

"Have you been reduced to spying to get your kicks?" Ryan asked irritably.

"Hardly. I just stopped by to see if you'd like a blind date for tonight. My date has a friend. I've met her. She doesn't hold a candle to your Maggie, but I imagine she could provide a much-needed distraction."

"I don't think so," Ryan said. He doubted if both Julia Roberts and Catherine Zeta-Jones rolled into one could distract him tonight.

Rory grinned at him. "Which says it all, if you ask my opinion."

"Which I did not," Ryan said.

"Well, I'm offering it, anyway. A woman like Maggie comes along once in a man's life, if he's lucky. Don't be an idiot and let her get away."

"I don't even know her," Ryan argued. "Neither do you. So let's not make too much of this."

"Are you saying the woman doesn't tie you in knots?"

Ryan frowned at the question. "Whether she does or she doesn't is no concern of yours."

"In other words, yes," Rory interpreted. "So, get to know her. Find out if there's anything more to these feelings. What's the harm?"

Harm? Ryan thought. He could get what was left of his heart broken, that was the harm. Maggie's words came back to him then. Ryan thought. He could get what was left of his heart broken, that was the harm. Maggie's words came back to him then.

It's called living.

Ryan tried to balance the promise of those words against the reality of the heartbreak he'd suffered years ago and vowed never to risk again. Bottom line? There was nothing wrong with his life just the way it was. It was safe. Comfortable. There were no significant b.u.mps, no nasty surprises.

"See you," he said to Rory. "I've got things to do."

Rory's expression brightened. "You going after her?"

"Nope."

"Why the h.e.l.l not?"