These weren’t shaped like Nash tears. They weren’t even tears of sorrow. She didn’t know how to identify the feelings she was having, which made her wish she knew a scientist who could put her tears under a microscope and make sense of things for her.
Chapter 17
Friday proved the longest day of the week. Ryan couldn’t get his head off Maggie. All day long he caught himself daydreaming, obsessing over the taste of her mouth, the softness of her lips, the way her breath hitched when he kissed her throat, and how soft her body felt under his.
Great, now he was hard again.
His phone vibrated. Another text from Kelly, thanking him again for covering the pub so much lately.
Ryan didn’t mind picking up the extra shifts. With all the new furniture he needed, he could use the extra money. But since kissing Maggie last night, he only wanted to go home and start his weekend.
Shutting off the kitchen lights, he tossed a damp rag in the hamper at the back of the bar. “Can I walk you out, Sue?”
“Thanks.” Sue turned off the accent lights behind the liquor shelves and grabbed her purse from the back.
He followed her out, locking the door behind them and carrying the last of the trash to the dumpster. “Drive safe.”
She waved. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Uh, actually I’m off tomorrow.”
Sue turned and frowned. “You are?”
“Yeah. It’s my birthday. Finn’s covering.”
“Oh. Okay. Then I guess I’ll see you Sunday.” She climbed into her car. “Happy birthday.”
“Thanks.” Ryan waited until her car started, a habit he formed when he began working late with her, then started his truck.
The streets were empty at this hour. He barely saw the road the whole way home, his mind lost in fantasies about his neighbor and how they might spend the weekend.
Finn was a lifesaver, offering to cover the bar for him on his birthday. Usually Ryan would want to spend the day hanging out with his cousins, who were his best friends, but this year was different.
He was turning thirty, a milestone, and he didn’t want any reminders of the benchmarks he’d yet to meet. He didn’t want to feel like a third wheel or sit through a family dinner where everyone had a spouse to the right, and he had no one. And he didn’t want to feel sorry for himself. For the first time in a very long time, he was actually happy—and hopeful.
Maggie was amazing. She was funny yet shy, bold yet hesitant, tough yet delicate. He didn’t want to get ahead of himself, but every time they hung out, he fell a little harder for her.
Dangerous territory, he thought, remembering the look on her face last night when she broke the kiss. He could guess what happened. She had an attack of conscience.
The whole Nash O’Malley thing was a touchy situation. He didn’t want to compete with the guy. One, because he was a ghost. And two, because he was her husband, and he wasn’t sure anyone stood a chance of getting her heart when Nash still owned it so completely.
Ryan parked his truck and shut off the engine. Gripping the wheel, he stared up at Maggie’s windows, wishing he saw her lights flash on, but the place was pitch black. His mind was racing.
Maybe Maggie would never get over her husband. Maybe she didn’t have to. As long as she had a little space in her heart for him, he could live with that.
His conscience nipped with the reminder that he wanted more. But that was before. He made a promise to himself the day he signed the papers for this house, he wouldn’t keep getting hung up on everyone else’s benchmarks.
So what if most people met their partners and got married in their twenties. And maybe it was still customary in some circles to start a family before thirty. Not everyone had to follow the same set of rules.
He might never get married or have kids. It was time he accepted that. Acceptance was the only way he’d stop feeling like half a man and start feeling whole.
Maggie was exactly what he needed right now. There were parts of her that remained off-limits and that worked for him. It kept him in check. Yes, they were dating, but they were moving too slow for anything to be serious.
On the other hand, getting mixed up with someone as fragile as Maggie had a way of making their relationship as serious as trying to dismantle a bomb. One wrong move and he could spoil everything.
Maybe someday she’d get there. She’d be adorable with a big pregnant belly, and she’d make a fierce soccer mom.
His imagination wandered as he made his way up to bed. He could imagine her with a minivan full of sons and sports equipment. She’d be the sort of mom to give the ref an earful when he miscalled a game.