Bottom Line (Callaghan Brothers #8)



Mary and Max made their rounds at the Birch Falls retirement home, greeting the residents and passing out “care packages” consisting of tiny pots of brightly colored plants and a few extra niceties. Mary made a point of collecting things – lotions, special soaps, puzzle books, novels – for the folks to enjoy whenever she caught a good sale, knowing how much even the littlest things sometimes meant the most.

Their weekly visits weren’t totally selfless. Over the past few years, Mary had found a great deal of solace among the residents. It seemed that with their advancing age, they had also developed ways of dealing not only with death and the grief that it brought, but more importantly, how to go on afterward. Their support, their quiet empathy, had meant a lot when everyone else was incapable of processing the tragic loss of such a young life.

She whiled away a couple of hours in the massive rec center, sharing her gifts, chatting, playing several games of checkers and chess and getting solidly beaten. Max made his rounds, too. He was always a big hit. He loved the attention they lavished on him, as well as the generous amount of treats they snuck him when they thought Mary wasn’t looking.

By the time the winter sun started sinking below the horizon, Mary and Max took their leave and headed back home.

It had been difficult to keep thoughts of Aidan at bay since the moment she left him at Tommy’s, but keeping busy had definitely helped. Now that she was back in her own house, there was no hope of pushing them away.

Being the practical person that she was, Mary gave in to them as she warmed up some Ramen noodles in the microwave and filled Max’s doggie bowls with food and fresh water. She allowed images of golden eyes and bronzed hair to fill her mind’s eye with a soft sigh. There was no one here to bear witness, no one to tell her that she was acting more like a crushing teen than a thirty-something widow who should know better. She could recall his whiskey-smooth voice, his delicious scent, and his sexy grin to her heart’s content and no one would be the wiser.

Mary was reminded once again of that time-honored gem, “If it seems too good to be true, it probably is.” Aidan definitely fell into that category, at least on the surface. Beyond gorgeous with the body of a male model, he was a sinfully tempting package that elicited naughty dreams and erotic fantasies with little more than a hooded glance from those incredible eyes.

And out of all the women at Tommy’s, he’d actually wanted to kiss her at midnight!

It was enough to set her heart fluttering and send a thrill down the length of her spine. That is, until she factored in his drunken state. Even plain Janes like herself started to look pretty good after a couple hours of partying.

That wasn’t self-pity taking hold; Mary was a realist. She had no illusions about herself. The dew of youth was all but gone from her features, though the signs of aging had mercifully not taken root quite yet. Just below the average height at five feet three inches, her frame was neither petite nor big-boned. Her hair was a medium shade of brown; her eyes a matching common shade of the same. There was nothing remarkable about her – no marks, no scars, no lush assets – to draw attention. Even her name was common, ordinary.

No, Mary was the quiet friend always waiting in the wings, but never the one in the spotlight. The one men inevitably looked right past to the younger, prettier, sexier models. Even Cam probably wouldn’t have noticed her if he hadn’t accidentally run into her with his bike the day she and her mother had been unloading the moving van.

She’d come to terms with it a long time ago, had made her peace with it. She really wasn’t the “look at me” type, anyway. Never had been. But, she thought ruefully, it would be nice to be noticed once in a while.

And yet...Aidan had noticed her. He was the one to approach her at Tommy’s. The big question was, why? Maybe it was because she had a prime corner booth all to herself. Maybe it was because he sensed a kindred lonely spirit.

Or maybe, he was just another good-looking guy who saw a wallflower and thought she’d be easy game.

While it was a possibility, it didn’t feel right. Aidan was a good-looking man. Bronzed and golden like a Greek god, with tiger eyes and a smile that could dampen a woman’s panties in a heartbeat or less. The type of man who must certainly set his sights higher than the likes of her. With a crook of those long, perfectly shaped fingers he could have had any woman in the bar. So why hadn’t he?

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