“Don’t worry,” she said to Max, “I’ll make sure he stays until you come back in.” Only then did the yellow Lab trot outside.
“I swear that dog understood every word you said,” Aidan commented, shaking his head.
“Of course he did,” Mary replied with obvious pride. “Max hasn’t quite accepted the fact that he’s a dog. He sees himself as more of a vertically challenged human.”
Aidan laughed at that, something he found incredibly easy to do in Mary’s presence.
“Have you eaten?” Mary asked.
“Just the cinnamon roll at O’Leary’s.”
“Mmmm. He has the best cinnamon rolls. Great potato soup, too. I’ll share it with you.”
“I don’t want to impose.”
“No imposition,” she assured him. “I’ll warm up the soup a bit. Maybe you can raid my fridge and see if there’s enough there for sandwiches.”
With a boyish grin, Aidan rolled up his sleeves and went to work.
“So. How do you know Mr. O’Leary?” Mary asked. She took a bite of the Dagwood sandwich Aidan had assembled and her eyes rolled back in her head. “Oh my God. This is fabulous.”
“Thanks,” Aidan said, pleased with her praise. It was just a sandwich, but the fact that she liked it so much made him feel like he’d done something special. “And Conlan O’Leary is the grandfather-in-law of one of my closest friends.”
“I know of the Connellys here in Birch Falls, but I’ve heard he has family over in Pine Ridge, too. Is that where your friend lives?”
Aidan nodded. Mary reached over and dabbed at the little bit of mayo at the corner of his mouth, then realizing what she did, averted her eyes and blushed.
“You can’t help it, can you?” Aidan asked.
She concentrated on her sandwich. “Help what?”
“Helping people. Taking care of them.”
She shrugged. A few moments passed in silence, then he said, “Who takes care of you, Mary?”
Her eyes widened, and that was when he saw it. The fierce longing in her eyes. The raw need. It was gone almost as soon as he’d glimpsed it, but it was there. He’d felt it, like a fist deep in his solar plexus.
“I’m a big girl,” she said with a smile that didn’t quite fully develop. Her shoulders rolled, as if readying herself for battle. “I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”
Aidan caught the small sound of dissent in the back of his throat. Yes, she was capable. But she didn’t want to be. Out loud, he said, “Obviously.”
Slightly mollified (and perhaps a bit disappointed?) Mary returned her attention back to her meal. Aidan watched her surreptitiously out of the corner of his eye. An idea began to form in his mind. The more he thought about it, the more right it seemed.
He waited until she didn’t look like she could eat any more, then pushed himself away from the table. “Hey,” he said, gathering Mary’s plates before she could. “What if I came by on Saturday and helped you take down your decorations?”
Mary blinked. She didn’t say anything at first. Aidan proceeded to rinse the dishes and stack them neatly in the dishwasher while she carefully wrapped the leftovers and put them into the fridge.
“You want to help me take down my Christmas stuff?” she finally asked, bemused.
“Yeah,” he said, flashing her a trademark Harrison grin guaranteed to seal the deal. “I could bring dinner, then maybe you and I could watch Holy Grail or something.”
“That sounds... well, great, actually.”
His crooked grin morphed into a full-blown smile. “Great.”
If he didn’t leave soon, he was going to have her in his arms, something he didn’t think she was quite ready for. Then again, he wasn’t sure he was, either. The air practically sizzled between them when they were doing something as innocent as sharing soup and sandwiches at her kitchen table.
“Thanks for dinner, Mary, and for the pleasure of your company.”
“You’re welcome. I enjoyed it, too.”
Mary walked over to the large-silled window in the kitchen and picked up a healthy-looking ivy plant with heart-shaped, variegated leaves. “Here,” she said, handing it to him. “This little guy is practically indestructible, an immortal among plants. Semi-sun, only water when the soil looks dry. It’s a good one to start with.”
He graciously accepted the plant and thanked her. She walked him to the door, but before she opened it, she hesitated. “Aidan? Can I have your number again?”
“Of course.” He pulled another Celtic Goddess business card out of his wallet and scribbled his personal cell number on the back. He refused to ask what happened to the last card he’d given her. It didn’t matter, though it did offer some insight into why he hadn’t heard from her. Maybe she’d wanted to call and had lost the number somehow. In any event, what was important was that she was asking for it now.