Mr. O'Grady's Magic Box (7 page)

She chuckled, thinking he was joking, but he
didn't crack a smile. She searched his eyes for the truth. His gaze
never wavered. "He's your brother?" She wanted him to confirm she
heard him correctly.

"What can I say?" He shrugged. "Reece was a
surprise to my parents as well."

She looked away as she digested the
information, her hand smoothing her tresses back in a smooth glide
of her hand.
Reece
is his brother, not his son.
Her
gaze found his again and she wished he didn't look so damn sexy
with the way his pain-stricken eyes held her gaze. Maybe she should
hear what he had to say. She'd be lying if she claimed she wasn't
curious to know why he bolted. She let out a resigned sigh. "Then,
I suppose I owe you a drink."

His lips slid into a smile of relief and she
felt her heart turn over in response. It irritated her that he
could still do that to her. "I have a better idea," he said. "Let
me take you out to dinner."

She shook her head. "I don't think—"

"So don't," he interrupted, his shoulders
lifting in an off-handed shrug. "It's just dinner. I'd like to
explain what happened. I'll tell you everything."

A part of her wanted him to leave her alone
because she was afraid of what he might tell her—but the reporter
part of her wanted the scoop. She needed it for closure. She so
hated
loose ends and her relationship with Ian had left her
doubting her judgment. Every relationship she had since Ian, put
her on guard, afraid to trust completely. "Okay."

"Okay?" He seemed surprised.

"Yeah, I'll meet you downstairs at
six-thirty." She waved her hand toward the empty hall.

He took the hint, but once outside the door,
he turned to look at her again, his gaze wavering over her like a
caress. "It's really good to see you again, Aubrey." Then he turned
and strolled down the hall, whistling as he went.

Against her will, a smile spread across her
face at the memory of him whistling this same tune the first day
they'd met. She ran out into the hall and called after him. "You
know you still whistle off tune."

His answer was to whistle louder.

Chapter Eleven

Aubrey went down to the library to collect
her things and found herself over at the curio cabinet, staring at
the extraordinary box of magic.
No it's not a magic box. It's
just a decorative piece
. She reprimanded herself.

Her gaze lingered on the Bunratty Castle
replica sitting on the shelf as an added reminder of Ireland and
Ian. It conjured up memories, taking her back to the morning Ian
and she rode their bikes to the real castle in Ireland...

They parked the bikes and walked over to the
railing. Bunratty Castle loomed against the sky as a reminder of
when Chieftains ruled over the countryside.

"It's beautiful," Aubrey said, reaching for
Ian's hand, intertwining their fingers together.

"Would you like to have dinner there?" Ian
pulled her close and nuzzled the soft area near her ear.

She sighed and leaned into him, loving the
way he smelled of soap, shampoo and a scent that was all him. "We
can do that?"

"Sure, especially since I made a
reservation."

She pulled away to look at him. "Are you
joking?

His lips curved into a wide grin. "Nope.
Nothing's too good for milady." He bowed with flourish before
her.

She squealed in delight and threw her arms
around his neck, giving him a quick kiss. He chuckled, holding her
close. His hand slid up and down her back in a soft caress. The
blue of his eyes darkened with passion as he leaned down, covering
her lips, giving her a sweet kiss. "I love you," he murmured and
her knees weakened as his mouth descended again.

"Ian likes it, too."

Aubrey was whipped back to reality with the
sound of Reece's voice. She turned to look at him. "I'm sorry,
what?"

"The castle." He pointed. "Weren't you
looking at it?"

"Yes, I suppose I was."

"It's his, you know. He had granddad lock it
up after I almost broke it. I was only six at the time. How was I
supposed to know Ian would be angry I built a moat around it?" He
pursed his lips together and frowned.

She grinned at the thought of the detailed
statue of Bunratty Castle submerged in mud.

Reece's shoulders lifted in a shrug, a
gesture Ian had used often. "Ian told me he fell in love there." He
snorted in disgust. "It seemed kind of mushy to me. I thought he'd
tell me some great story about a battle." He clicked his tongue.
"You aren't still angry at him are you?"

"Your brother?"

He grinned. "Figured it out, did you?
Everyone's always thinking he's my dad 'cause he's so
old
."

That brought a smile to her face.
"Ancient."

"Exactly—but hey, he's cool. I know I'm just
a kid, but I realize he gave up a lot to take care of me after our
parents died. I try not to give him too much grief." His nose
scrunched up and his mouth creased in a grimace. "Well, most of the
time anyway. I mess up once in a while."

"We all make mistakes. I'm sure your brother
doesn't expect you to be perfect."

"Yeah, he's told me."

She wondered when Reece and Ian's parents
had died? It was obvious it had been awhile by the way Reece talked
about his brother taking care of him.

"Reece," Mr. O'Grady stood in the doorway
with his hands on his hips. "I hope you aren't bugging our fine
guest. She's come all this way from Seattle to write about our
place. I don't want her writing a snot-nose kid pestered her the
whole time."

"He's fine," Aubrey assured him. "We were
just chatting."

"Yeah, Granddad. I wasn't doing anything."
He spread his arms wide, hands palm up.

"And that be the problem. You're suppose to
be helping me in the kitchen."

"I was on my way," he grumbled. He turned
toward Aubrey and cupped his hand at his mouth to whisper, "He's
cranky sometimes. You can write that in your article if you
want."

"I heard you, young man. My hearing's as
good as yours. Now get."

Reece threw her a wide grin, the smirk so
much like Ian's, it made her smile, too. "Catch you later," he
threw over his shoulder as he strolled toward the kitchen.

"Sure thing, Reece."

Her gaze shifted back to the statue of
Bunratty Castle. She sighed. The remembrance of Ian's kiss lingered
like a pestering echo and his long ago declaration made her heart
ache with desire to feel that way again.

Chapter Twelve

After finishing up at the Inn, Ian drove
home to shower and change his clothes for his date with Aubrey.
Date?
Well, he'd like it to be a date, but knew it was
wishful thinking on his part.

He arranged for Reece to stay the night with
their granddad. He would have the whole evening to be with Aubrey.
Granted, the evening could be cut short, depending how Aubrey
reacted to what he told her.

Ian's house stood close to the Marina and no
more than a ten minute drive to the inn. He purchased the place six
months ago for a price he couldn't refuse. The place needed work,
but he never shied away from a challenge. The olive-green carpet
went first, replaced by natural finished oak floor. Next he'd work
on the cabinets in the kitchen. They needed to be refurbished and
the flower power wallpaper in the bathrooms needed to go, too. The
people who lived here before him bought the house brand new in the
late sixties, and as far as he could tell everything, fixtures and
all, were original.

He flipped on the light as he entered the
bedroom. His Bassett Hound, Morris followed behind him.

A king size bed and a dresser were the only
furniture in the room. The French doors situated on the far wall
led out to the balcony where he had a magnificent ocean view.

He strode over to the closet and threw open
the doors. His clothes lined the wood pole that stretched from one
end of the closet to the other. His gaze wavered over the dress
shirts, wondering which one didn't look too wrinkled. T-shirt and
jeans were usually good enough for him, but not tonight. "Gotta
look good, Morris." He glanced down at the hound sitting at his
feet.

Morris' tail thudded and he tilted his
head.

"I'm looking to impress a girl." His lips
spread into a grin as he remembered Aubrey slamming the door in his
face. Surprised the hell out of him. Thank God she relented and
opened the door again. "I knew her a long time ago. I left her
stranded in Ireland." He sighed with a shake of his head. "I know.
I was an eegit."

"Rrrr-ruff." Morris obviously agreed.

"She was lovely at nineteen, with freckles
and gangly limbs. Now, she's a beautiful woman with curves in all
the right places." His hands lifted, making the universal sign of a
curvy woman. His gaze landed on Morris again. "Don't judge me,
Morris for being
that guy.
You know, the stereotyped kind of
guy checking out a pretty woman. Only Aubrey isn't just any
woman."

"Rrrr-ruff"

"She's the first woman I fell in love
with—heck, the only one." He dated, but nothing serious ever
developed. "None of them were the one."
And you think a girl you
fell in love with ten years ago is?

He wasn't naïve. A lot had happened in ten
years. They both grew up for one, but what he felt for her before
couldn't be denied. All he had to do was find out if the spark
could be ignited again. He had one shot to make things right
between them, and he hoped to God he didn't blow it. She couldn't
hate him too much if she'd agreed to go out to dinner with him.

His gaze caught sight of the blue shirt with
the clear thin plastic draped over it. He grabbed it, thankful he
had it drycleaned and pressed a few weeks ago after he went to his
friend's wedding. "So what do you think, Morris?" He held the shirt
beneath his chin.

Morris' big droopy eyes stared at him. Then
he gave him the low rumbled bark of agreement.

"I swear you understand me, buddy." He
leaned down and scratched behind Morris' ears. He rescued Morris
from the pound two years ago. He'd been malnourished and scrawny
when he'd been brought into the pound. The guy there told him
Morris had been abandoned, left in the backyard with no food or
water after the owners packed up and left. He couldn't understand
how anyone could be so cruel.

Ian headed to the bathroom, glancing at
himself in the mirror that hung over the sink. He spent a good part
of his days outdoors, but his Irish skin only managed a light tan.
The stubble on his chin and cheeks stood out like a dark shadow. He
shaved this morning, but he could use another once over. He
remembered how Aubrey would say his stubble prickled her skin.
"She's not going to let you kiss her as if ten years haven't swept
by," he scolded his reflection, but the reprimand didn't stop him
from thinking about it anyway. He wondered if she still liked to be
nuzzled with small caresses near her ear. The way she would shudder
against him with a sweet sigh drove him wild. The way her soft
sweet breath felt against his mouth and the way her hands would
plunge into his hair, drawing him closer to—

"Sweet Jesus." He drew in a ragged breath.
If he kept this reminiscing up, he'd have to add another shower to
his list of things to do before he met Aubrey—a cold one. "It's
only wishful thinking, anyway." She may have agreed to have dinner
with him, but it didn't mean she'd ever forgive him.

"What the hell." His hand reached for the
razor on the shelf anyway.

Chapter Thirteen

Ian picked up Aubrey at 6:30 sharp, not
wanting her to change her mind before the night began. He drove her
to the
Wind and Sea
restaurant located at Fisherman's Wharf.
The hostess seated them by the window with a perfect view of the
harbor. Candles and flowers adorned the table to enhance the
romantic setting.

He ordered the New York steak and she
ordered a brochette of teriyaki shrimp, scallops, and fresh fish
with bell peppers and onions basted in lemon butter. He kept the
conversation light before working up to the real reason he brought
her here.

"The shrimp looks good," he told her.

Her lips curved. "If you're nice, maybe I'll
share."

He smiled, too. So far so good. He hadn't
pissed her off by saying the wrong thing.
Yet
.

"What are you thinking about?" she asked
him. One finely shaped brow lifted in question.

"I was wondering if I was going to wear your
wine or if you were going to drink it."

Her graceful fingers circled around the
stem, picking it up and swirling the liquid before taking a
generous sip. "Mmm—it's good. No, I believe I'll savor this." She
shifted in her seat, her gaze focusing on the view outside the
window. A boat sailed by with a young family aboard. They probably
rented the boat for the day. They didn't look like locals. "The
view's beautiful," she said with a sigh.

"Yeah," he agreed, though he kept his gaze
on her. She'd worn her hair down. The loose tendrils gleamed deep
gold in the candlelight. The light blue dress she chose flattered
her and showed off a generous portion of her shapely legs. No
necklace, but blue dangling earrings adorned her ears. She wore
very little make up, just mascara and lipstick to heighten her
natural glow.

"You're beautiful." He didn't realize he'd
spoken aloud until her gaze riveted to him.

Wariness entered her expression, her lips
pursing together. "We're just having dinner. You don't have to
butter me up with compliments."

"I was making an observation. I didn't mean
to make you uncomfortable." He cut a portion of his steak and took
a generous bite, hoping to keep his mouth occupied so as not to
reveal any more of his thoughts.

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