House Calls: Callaghan Brothers, Book 3 (25 page)

He kept his voice even, but couldn’t completely mask the displeasure in his voice. 

“Relax, Mick.  Maggie’s fine.  A little pissed off, maybe.  From what I heard, Dumas was trying to warn her off you.” 

Michael snorted.  Maggie didn’t do ‘a little pissed-off’; her fiery temperament didn’t allow for such degrees.  She was either angry or she wasn’t, and he could guess which applied in this case.  The thought of Dumas sniffing around Maggie created a blood-red haze that tainted
his
vision.  It was probably a good thing that he’d had some business to take care of that morning.  If it had been him walking into the kitchen instead of Ian, he might not have shown the same restraint, despite the fact that on most days, he was the most level-headed of them all. 

“Any idea why?” 

Ian smirked.  “Because he’s an arrogant, self-centered bastard who cannot stand the fact that you, my brother, have succeeding in getting the one thing he cannot have?”

Michael grunted in response.  He already wanted to kill the bastard for hurting Maggie over a year ago, though at the same time he was immensely grateful that Dumas had been such a selfish prick.  If he hadn’t been, it would have made things more difficult. 

If there was one thing Michael was absolutely certain of, it was that Maggie was meant to be his and his alone, and Fate would have found some way to ensure that their paths crossed.  And once he’d come in contact with her, he would have realized who and what she was.  The fact that she was unmarried and uninvolved when he found her made it easier, really, but the end result would still be the same.  When all was said and done, Maggie was his. 

“Maybe.”  He took a drink, letting the smooth brew roll around on his tongue before swallowing.  “You were there.  What did your gut tell you?” 

Ian’s eyes met his, and he had his answer.  “He’s up to something.  I can feel it, and I don’t like it, Mick.”

Michael nodded.  The Callaghan brothers had long since learned to trust their instincts, and his were telling him the same thing.  When one of them had a feeling, it was nearly a sure thing.  When more than one of them shared the same feeling, you could pretty much bet the bank on it.

“Feel up to doing a little research, then?”

Ian looked affronted.  “Like you even have to ask?  I’ve already kicked off a bunch of sniffers.  Dumas isn’t stupid, though.  He’ll cover his tracks well.  It may take some time.”

Michael nodded again.  Ian was the best.  If there was anything to find he would do it and then they would take care of it, because that’s what they did – ferreted out and neutralized threats.  What worried him more was the fact that Dumas had managed to get into Maggie’s house so easily, and that things had escalated enough for Maggie to actually hit him.  Ian wasn’t telling him everything – he was sure of it – but he would not press.  For now.  He trusted Ian enough to know that if he needed to know something, Ian would tell him. 

“Thanks, man.  I’m glad you showed up when you did.  What the hell was she thinking letting him in like that?”

A slight frown creased Ian’s boyish features.  “I asked her the same thing.  That got her back up, said that
I
was the one that broke into her house.”  Michael raised his eyebrows.

“Well, I didn’t recognize the car, and knew you’d already left,” Ian explained. 

“Perfectly reasonable.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought, too.  But Maggie didn’t quite see it that way.  Go figure.”

Michael’s lips twitched.  “That explains why you didn’t call me right away.”

“I didn’t call right away because there was no need,” Ian said firmly, suddenly finding a spot on the bar that needed attention.  “Everything was under control.”

“Meaning she offered to show you some creative storage space for some of her scarier kitchen implements if you tattled, all of which involved parts of your anatomy to which your wife is fondly attached?”

Ian’s huge grin confirmed his suspicions.

Michael laughed.  “Afraid of my little woman, are you?”

“No,” Ian countered defensively.  “But I’m not stupid enough to wave a red flag in front of a bull, either.”

When Maggie came into the bar with Taryn an hour later, her face lit up at the sight of Michael.  His heart swelled in his chest; he didn’t think he would ever get used to the fact that she loved him so completely.  Pulling her into his arms, he greeted her with a searing kiss, one that left absolutely no doubt to anyone within viewing distance exactly who she belonged to.  Let
that
get back to Spencer Dumas and his little spies.

“Michael!  I thought you had to work all day,” she said breathlessly.

“I finished early,” he said, his voice husky. 

“Did you now?”  Flames licked through her green eyes at the possibilities of exactly how they might spend the bonus time.  That soft, Irish lilt had him hardening painfully.

“Aye.”  It was the only way to answer when she spoke to him like that.

Ian cleared his throat, and their little private world expanded to include everyone else again.  Maggie’s eyes swiveled toward him accusingly.  “You called him, didn’t you?”

“Now, Maggie, – “

“The question is,” Michael said quietly, his deep voice commanding her full attention, “why didn’t you?”

* * *

I
an almost patted Michael on the back for his exemplary male behavior, along with an encouraging remark or two, but thought better of it as Maggie’s eyes flashed and he mentally prepared himself for her response.  Amazingly, though, the intensity of Maggie’s fire dialed down to a low simmer as she dropped her eyes.  It was one of the most impressive transformations he’d ever seen.

“It was nothing,” she said unconvincingly, her hand coming up to rest against Michael’s chest as if she might soothe him.  Her fingers splayed against his chest, small caresses meant to reassure him.

Ian watched in fascination at the silent exchange that followed.  Michael, wrapping himself around her protectively; Maggie, snuggling in and calming him.  For a few minutes, they were oblivious to everything except each other. 

“So tell me.  Do I have to kill him?”  Michael finally said, making her chuckle.

“No.  I think Ian scared him enough for one day.”

“Thank God he was there, Maggie.”

“I could have handled it.”

Michael kissed the top of her forehead and said, “My fierce tigress.  But I worry about you, Maggie.”

Maggie melted into him, while Ian looked at Michael with something akin to hero worship.  If it had been him, he would have reinforced how bad of an idea it was to allow herself to be put in such an undesirable situation in the first place.  But Michael was a genius.  He called her fierce and managed to convey his concern without pissing her off.  He’d have to remember that one.

“I know,” she sighed, but there was no trace of the irritation she’d harbored earlier.  “I didn’t check to see who it was before I opened the door; I just assumed it was Ian coming to pick me up.  He said he just wanted to talk to me for a few minutes.  I should have known Ian wouldn’t have knocked; he would have just barged right in.”  From the protection of her husband-to-be’s arms, she shot Ian a scathing glance, but the twinkle in her eye neutralized the effect.

“What did he want to talk to you about?”

Maggie frowned.  “I’m not sure exactly.  We didn’t really get around to that.” 

“What happened, Maggie?”

* * *

M
aggie glanced at Ian, wondering just how much he’d told Michael.  Given Michael’s relative calm, probably not all of the details.  Ian earned back a couple of merit points for that. 

“Spencer was just being Spencer.  I shouldn’t have let him get to me.”  Maggie guided Michael’s hand to the soft swell of her belly, barely noticeable beneath the loose sweater she wore.  “I’m going to blame it on hormones.”

“All the more reason to be cautious, sweetheart.  Promise me you’ll be more careful.  If he tries to contact you again, I want to know about it immediately.”

“Okay, but I don’t think he will.”  No, she was pretty sure he wouldn’t.  She’d humiliated him twice; he wasn’t going to give her a third opportunity.  Once again a feeling of unease took hold – the same one she’d been trying to shake ever since Spencer had arrived on her door earlier that morning. 

Whatever the purpose of his visit had been, it was lost now.  Maybe it had been as innocuous as a simple visit to see how she was doing and things just getting out of hand.  It wasn’t totally impossible, however improbable.  A more likely explanation was that Spencer was going to make another attempt at gaining her land before her marriage.  Once they were wed, the property would become Michael’s as well, and Spencer had to know that as unlikely as it would be to convince Maggie to sell, it would be impossible to go up against the Callaghans. 

She explained as much to Michael.  He admitted it was possible, as did Ian, but neither seemed wholly convinced.

“He’s jealous, that’s all,” Maggie concluded, hoping to convince herself as much as them.  “He doesn’t like to lose.” 

* * *

“Y
ou’re probably right,” Michael said, pulling her close to him and rubbing her back gently.  Looking over the top of her head, he caught Ian’s gaze.  Unspoken words passed between them.  Ian nodded in understanding. 

“Come on, love,” Michael said, rising, but keeping his arm protectively around Maggie.  “Spencer Dumas doesn’t deserve any more of our attention today.  Let’s go home.  You can tell me all about what you and Taryn came up with today.”

Maggie gave him a blank look.

“Weren’t you going to meet with the florist today after Lexi’s?”

Maggie threw a desperate look at Taryn, whose expression was way too blank for his liking. 

“Maggie.”  His tone was soft steel.  Maggie tried to take a step back, but his arms were like iron bars loosely caging her in.  The most Maggie could do was wriggle a bit; escape was not an option. 

Taryn was already slipping toward the door.  “And you - ” Michael pinned his gaze on Taryn and spoke the command so sharply she obeyed instantly “ – stay right where you are.”

Both women tried desperately to look innocent and failed miserably. 

“Want to tell me what you ladies were up to today?”  Michael’s voice was forcibly calm.

“No, not really,” Taryn said almost immediately, offering a quick smile.  Maggie shook her head in silent agreement.  Both women seemed to find their shoes suddenly fascinating. 

Who knows how long the game might have continued if Jake hadn’t walked in at the moment, oblivious to the warning signs Taryn tried to flash him.

“So,” Jake said, smiling.  “How’d the tat come out?”

Ian coughed, probably in an attempt to stifle his laugh, but it came out more like a choking sound.  Michael’s normally implacable expression was frozen somewhere between shock and disbelief, his mouth hung partially open.  Taryn slipped behind her large husband, making sure he was in between her and Michael.  Maggie was cornered, biting her lower lip even while managing to suffuse her obvious anxiety with a touch of defiance. 

“You got a
tattoo
?” he growled, abandoning any previous effort to keep his voice calm.  Ian snorted, then looked away.   

“Yes.”  Maggie spoke softly.  Her eyes were large and wide as Michael pinned her.

“She was awesome,” Taryn piped up.  “She never even flinched, even when he - ” Michael’s laser-like eyes swiveled in her direction.  Jake quietly pushed Taryn behind him, managing to cover her mouth as he did so. 

Michael turned back to Maggie.  “Why, Maggie?”

Maggie straightened her shoulders slightly, stood a little taller.  That put her face to face with his collarbone, so she tilted her head upward bravely.  “Because I am going to be your wife.”

Michael searched her face, saw the resolve, the pride beneath her fear of his disapproval.  “Taryn says that everyone in your family wears the crest,” she continued before she lost her courage.  “That it’s a symbol of the love and loyalty you have for one another.  I – I wanted to be part of that, too.”

No one was laughing anymore.  Maggie’s eyes were bright with moisture. 

“Show him, Maggie.”  Taryn spoke softly, nothing but a disembodied voice from somewhere behind Jake’s massive frame.

Maggie carefully lifted her sweater above her head, leaving only the silky camisole beneath.  She angled her body away from his, revealing the stark engraving behind her right shoulder.  The Callaghan Family crest, complete with Michael’s custom caducis.  Beneath the medical symbol lie a perfect rose, the traditional symbol of a Callaghan bride.  The whole design was framed by intricate Celtic knots.

Michael reached out, his fingers lightly skimming the edges of the cellophane bandage.  Words failed him.  It was ...
beautiful
.  Somehow the artist had managed to take the masculine crest and transform it into something inherently female.  Feminine, yet powerful, it cradled the rest within it.

Ian whistled as he leaned over the bar to get a closer look.  “He outdid himself this time.”

“Tiny?” Michael asked, his voice rough.  Tiny ran a tattoo and piercing shop over in Birch Falls; he had been handling the family ink for as long as they could remember.

“You think I’d trust her with anyone else?” Taryn scoffed. 

“It’s exquisite.”

Taryn smiled.  “I know, right?  I liked it so much, I made him vamp up mine, too.”  She smiled brightly, lifting her shirt to show off hers as well.  “After all, we Callaghan women have to stick together.”

A familiar hunger lit Jake’s eyes as they took in the recent artwork.  “Ian.  Watch the bar, man.  Taryn and I have something to discuss.”  Without another word, Jake took her hand and led her from the room so quickly Taryn was forced to jog to keep up with his long strides.

“Talking, my ass,” Ian mumbled, but Maggie and Michael didn’t hear him.

“Yeah,” Michael said, his voice husky and an odd expression on his face as he helped her pull her sweater back on.  “Maggie and I have some things to do, too.”  Murmuring words of thanks to Ian, he led her from the Pub and into the Jag.