Bottom Line (Callaghan Brothers #8)

“Here, let me,” he said smoothly, taking the key from her hand.

She didn’t step back though, which meant Aidan had to lean very closely in front of her to reach the lock. He heard her slight intake of breath when his shoulders brushed against her, felt the tiniest puff of breath against his neck.

When she made no move to enter, he turned to find her eyes closed, the hint of a smile about those pretty pink lips. If he didn’t know better, he would swear she had leaned closer to smell him.

“Thanks,” she murmured, opening her eyes. Color rushed to her cheeks.

“My pleasure.”

A familiar yellow beast rushed into the foyer to greet them, butt wiggling and tail wagging with barely contained delight. Mary put her soup and bag down on the small table just inside the door, then crouched down to give Max a hug and a good scratch behind the ears. Aidan had the sudden image of Mary wrapping her arms around him at the end of a hard day, then wondered where the hell that had come from.

Satisfied with Mary’s attention, Max turned to Aidan, sniffing cautiously at his coat. Apparently Max liked the way he smelled, too.

“Remember Aidan, Max?” Mary asked. As if he understood, Max sat on his haunches and offered Aidan a paw.

Brows raised in surprise, Aidan leaned over and shook Max’s paw. “Well, aren’t you polite?” Max gave him a great big doggie grin. Mary laughed. “Yeah, he really must like you. Normally when someone comes by he barks like crazy and hides behind me. Just the men, though. He’s different with women.”

“Get a lot of male visitors, do you?” he asked before he could stop himself.

“No,” she said, her smile fading a little. “Just the occasional home repairman.”

Goddammit! He was such a fucking idiot! Why did he keep saying stupid shit like that to her? The moment he thought of some other man coming into her house, paying attention to her, something short-wired in his brain.

“Aidan,” she said, her voice suddenly very serious and quiet. “I realize what you must think of me. But you’re wrong. I don’t make a habit of bringing drunk guys back to my house, or allowing them to walk me home and then invite them in.” She paused and bit her lip, as if deciding whether or not to say any more. “You are the only man to cross my threshold in a non-professional capacity for a very long time.”

Bemusement warred with self-loathing. Bemusement edged ahead. “Why?” he blurted out.

She shook her head, her expression thoughtful, as if she had been asking herself the same question. “I don’t know. I can’t explain it. You’re just... different.”

“Different how?” he pressed. He couldn’t say why, but the answer was important.

She shrugged, taking his coat and hanging it up along with hers on the old-fashioned coat rack just inside. That was a positive sign; it would be perfectly in her rights to ask him to leave and not darken her doorstep again.

“I think it’s the way you look at me. Like you actually see me. Like I’m a normal woman.”

“You mean you’re not?” he asked with amusement as he let his eyes take her in from head to toe and back up again. “Because I have to tell you, if not, that’s one hell of a disguise you’ve got going on there.”

She laughed softly; it was like music to his soul. And just that quickly, the tension was gone from around her eyes. Unfortunately, she didn’t offer further insight into her puzzling statement.

“Come on, Max. Let’s get you outside and then have some dinner.”

Aidan followed behind Mary, his eyes travelling between the shimmering strands of her shiny chestnut hair and the sweet sway of her behind. They passed through the living area he’d seen briefly before, but now he took the opportunity to look around.

A small fireplace took up a fair portion of the outside wall to the left of the big bay window. On the mantle, a goofy looking reindeer with a Santa hat poised around its ridiculous antlers, a matching scarf around its neck, eyes bulging comically as it gripped a gold saxophone. Unable to help himself, Aidan pushed the small red velvet oval on the creature’s foot and a familiar melody began to play.

“Benny Hill!” he exclaimed as he recognized the jazzy, upbeat tune he remembered from his youth, when he used to stay up late to watch reruns of the comic on cable.

“Yeah! You know Benny Hill?

“One of my favorites,” Aidan confessed. On a sudden whim, Aidan said, “And now for something...”

“...completely different,” Mary finished without hesitation. Then they both laughed.

“Don’t tell me you like Monty Python, too?”

“Love them. I have all their movies on DVD.”

With much of the awkwardness now gone, Aidan followed Mary into the kitchen. She flipped a switch, flooding the back yard in light, and opened the door for Max. The dog hesitated, looking from Mary to Aidan and back again.

Abbie Zanders's books