Trouble Walks In (7 page)

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Authors: Sara Humphreys

BOOK: Trouble Walks In
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In his heart of hearts, though, he was hoping they could talk about anything except that. Life and living were on his mind, and getting Maddy back into both was his top priority.

On Thanksgiving, with a bouquet of flowers in hand, he climbed out of the cab and smiled at Maddy's doorman.

“Hey, David.” Ronan gave a friendly nod as the man held the door open. “Happy Thanksgiving.”

“You too, Officer.” David looked at the cab as it pulled away. “No partner tonight?”

“No, sir.” Ronan chuckled. Once people saw him with Bowser, they always expected to see the two of them together. The dog made quite the impression. “No wingman for this evening.”

“You're here to see Ms. Morgan, I presume?”

“Yes, sir.” Ronan held up the colorful autumn assortment, briefly wondering if he should have gone another way. Maybe roses? But that seemed too ordinary for a woman like Maddy. “Think she'll like 'em?”

“I'd say it's a safe bet.” David tipped his hat before calling out to the man at the desk. “Vincent, Officer McGuire is here to see Ms. Morgan.”

“Thank you, David.”

Ronan went to the guest book and signed in, but the instant he stepped into the elevator, he started to sweat. Maybe he should have called to confirm their date? He had texted, and she responded, but was that enough? After what had happened with Brenda, perhaps Maddy would want to pass on a night out. The funeral services would be back in Ohio where the girl had grown up, and Maddy's office was closed for the holiday weekend.

She wouldn't change her mind, would she?

He quickly checked his teeth in the reflection of the gold trim on the elevator walls. All clear. His new black wool coat covered the navy-blue suit and white shirt. He'd managed to keep the whole outfit free of wrinkles, but that was probably only because everything he had on was brand-new. Except for the tie, a dark-red one with white paw prints.

He rarely wore neckties—hated getting dressed up or wearing ties in general—so if he had to do it, at least he'd have a little fun with it. His mom had given him one with dogs on it when he and Bowser graduated from the K-9 program, and the theme had stuck. Now they were the only ties he had. Hell, he hated clothes shopping in general and hadn't been in ages, even though he could clean up really nicely when he wanted to.

The salesgirl had found Ronan wandering the store helplessly and taken pity on him. She'd helped him pick out everything, including new shoes. His brother Finn was the clotheshorse in the family and usually ragged on Ronan for being lame about fashion, but this evening had certainly warranted a little retail torture. Even
he
had to admit that his boots and jeans weren't gonna cut it tonight.

The elevator dinged. He straightened his tie, and a smile curved his lips.

This was it.

He had wanted to take Maddy Morgan on a date since he was in the eighth grade. She'd always been out of his league and off the market.

But not anymore.

The timing was finally right.

Jeez. Why was he making such a big deal out of this? Ronan wiped the sweat from his brow and let out a slow breath. He almost laughed out loud at how nervous he was. He'd been on dates with tons of women. If there was one thing Ronan knew how to do, it was date.

Yeah
…
but none of them were her.

Ronan punched the doorbell and straightened his coat one more time. Seconds ticked by painfully slowly, but there was no response.

Holy crap. She forgot.

Ronan knocked this time, but instead of her door, he heard the door of the other apartment open. He turned around just in time to see the guy in 15B poke his head out. The cop in Ronan did a quick rundown. Late twenties. Brown hair with glasses. Thin build.

“Happy Thanksgiving,” Ronan said. “Tim, right?”

“Tom,” he said flatly. “It's Tom. You here to see Maddy?”

“Yeah, I am. Happy Thanks—”

The guy disappeared inside and slammed the door.

“Okay then,” Ronan murmured. “Nice to meet you too.”

He rang Maddy's bell one more time. Was it possible that she had forgotten about their date?

Son of a…

As that last thought whisked through his head, and his ego began to shrivel, the door swung open. The sight before him wiped every coherent thought from his mind, and his mouth went dry.

She hadn't forgotten.

Her voluptuous curves were wrapped in a slinky black dress that hugged the delicious swell of her hips and breasts with wicked perfection. Her espresso-colored curls hung loose around her face instead of being tied up or tamed as they were most times he saw her. Instead, they drifted over her shoulders in wild waves, almost daring him to tangle his fingers in them. A long, silver chain hung around her neck, and an oval pendant dangled precariously in her ample cleavage.

Maddy smiled at him from the doorway, her brilliant blue eyes framed with impossibly long, dark lashes. Ronan was speechless. She was beautiful. He'd always known that, but tonight, there was something ethereal about her. A glow or a light that he hadn't really seen before…or maybe it had been so long ago that he'd almost forgotten it.

He didn't know how many minutes passed while he stood there staring at her, but he could have stayed that way forever.

“What?” She looked down at her dress and then lifted her injured foot. “Did I get something on my dress, or do I still have a cankle?”

“No.” Ronan shook his head and let out a slow breath, taking in the delicious sight of her shapely legs. “Definitely no cankles. You're stunning.”

“Thanks. So are you.” Her cheeks turned pink, and she stepped aside. “Uh. Come on in. I just have to get my coat.”

“I met your neighbor. Kind of,” Ronan said with a smirk. “It's Tom, by the way. Not Tim.”

He stepped into the foyer and closed the door behind him. The wool overcoat had been a mistake because now he was sweating like a pig. Maddy wasn't limping anymore. Her ankle must have been feeling better, because she had donned a pair of sexy black heels. He couldn't help but get a good look at those gorgeous gams while she fished her coat out of the closet.

“Oh jeez,” she groaned. “I've been calling him Tim. He came over the other day and fixed my laptop and was asking me all kinds of questions about real estate prices and said he might be moving. Anyway, now I feel like a jerk because I used the wrong name. No wonder he didn't take me up on my offer to get him some listings. I insulted the poor guy.”

“Whatever his name is, he's not real friendly.” Ronan stuck the flowers out at her like a dork. “Happy Thanksgiving.”

“Thanks.” Maddy curled her hand around the paper, her fingertips briefly brushing his. Her eyebrows raised, and she nodded with approval. “Very nice, McGuire. Orange roses, purple cushion poms, and burnt-orange lilies. This is an impressive autumnal assortment. Okay, fess up. Who helped you with this?”

“What? You don't think I asked for the pom-poms all on my own?”

“They're called purple cushion poms.” She laughed. “Come on. Be honest. Did you call Jordan, or maybe Cookie and Veronica at the shop back home?”

“Absolutely not. That would be cheating.” He took her coat and helped her into it. “I told the lady at the florist that my date and her mom used to own a flower shop. Obviously, I had to bring my A game. Like I said…I enjoy surprising you.”

Maddy sniffed the bouquet, her blue eyes peering at him above the blooms.

“How am I doing so far?” he asked quietly.

“Well, you showed up,” she said with a nervous laugh. “That's a good start.”

“Are you serious?” He tilted his head and studied her closely. How could she think, for one second, that he wouldn't show up? “I've never stood up a woman in my life. And I certainly wouldn't start with you.”

“After what happened to Brenda and the way I spoke to you on the phone the other day…” She looked back at the flowers and cleared her throat. There it was. The elephant in the room.

“Did you get a chance to speak to Brenda's parents?”

“Yes.” She nodded, her shoulders lifting as she sucked in a deep breath. “The service will be tomorrow, back in Ohio. They never wanted her to move here in the first place. They were devastated, as you can imagine.”

“I know. The guys on the case are keeping me in the loop.” Ronan pulled her coat closed, but he didn't let go, tugging her closer instead. “They're gonna find the son of a bitch who did this.”

“I hope so,” Maddy whispered. Her lower lip quivered, and those blue eyes glimmered as she seemed to struggle with what she wanted to say. “Thank you, Ronan.”

“For what?”

He grasped the lapels of her coat a bit tighter, as though that might stop the tears he feared were coming. Seeing any woman cry was awful, but watching Maddy cry might make him crazy. To see her hurting, and not be able to fix it, would be torture.

“For everything,” she murmured. “Calling the other day, being here tonight. Mostly for not giving up on me. After the way I bit your head off, I wouldn't have blamed you if you'd let me have Thanksgiving alone with the remnants of the lame pint of mint-chip ice cream for my dinner.”

“Sorry, kid.” Ronan tugged the lapels of her coat playfully and leaned a bit closer. “That's not my style. Besides, emotions were running high, and with everything you were dealing with, I shouldn't have pushed. That being said, backing down isn't my style either. I've got—”

“Tunnel vision,” she murmured.

When her gaze slammed into his, Ronan's gut dropped to his feet. God, he wanted to kiss her again. But before he could say or do anything, she backed up toward the living room. The fabric of her coat slipped through his fingers, much like she was slipping into his heart.

Effortlessly and completely.


And
you brought me flowers. Like I said, you're off to a good start.” She held up the bouquet. “I'm going to put these in water, and then we can get dinner. I hope you like a woman who can eat, McGuire. I'm starving.”

As she vanished around the corner, he couldn't have agreed more. He was hungry too, but not for food. All he craved was more of her.

Chapter 6

Maddy couldn't remember the last time she had laughed this much or enjoyed an evening the way she did tonight with Ronan. Whether he was making goofy faces while telling stories about the trouble he and his brothers had stirred up back in the day, or brazenly charming the waitress, Ronan was entertaining, sweet, and funny.

The restaurant he had chosen was a really cool little place in Hell's Kitchen, and the food was outstanding. She had never eaten a holiday dinner at a restaurant before, but based on the crowd of people, it was a popular idea. It certainly wasn't your traditional Thanksgiving dinner fare, but this hadn't exactly been a typical first date either.

Though Maddy had forgotten they were even on a date more than once already.

They were simply two people laughing, trading stories, and eating an incredible meal. There was no weirdness with Ronan. No awkward silences or uncomfortable getting-to-know-you conversations because they already knew each other. She didn't have to worry about having to explain the loss the she had suffered or everything she'd left behind.

Being with Ronan was effortless.

Maddy drained the last of the Malbec in her generously sized wineglass and peered at Ronan over the rim. Even when he was devouring the last of his molten chocolate lava cake, the man was absolutely gorgeous. When he'd shown up at her door tonight, she had been rendered momentarily speechless. It was the first time she'd seen him in anything other than jeans, his uniform, or running clothes—and boy, oh boy, did the man look good.

“Nice tie,” she said, nodding at the dog-themed piece of silk. “You keep your partner with you no matter where you go, eh?”

“You like it?” He leaned back in the chair and picked up the end to look at it before letting it slip through his fingers. “I'm not a big tie guy, but if it has a dog theme, I'll wear it.”

“That's it, huh?” Maddy arched one eyebrow. “Dog ties only.”

“Yes, ma'am.” A slow grin covered his face and his eyes danced. “Once I find something that appeals to me, I stick with it.”

Oh boy.
Maddy sucked in a shuddering breath and fought the swell of attraction. One flash of his cocky little smile, and she was practically moaning in the middle of the restaurant.

It wasn't the clothes he wore that set her heart racing, nor the adorable tie fetish. Not by a long shot. It was the look in his eyes that had her stomach in knots and tickled that part of her deep inside, the one that she'd thought died months ago. When Ronan trailed that sizzling stare over her, she shivered all the way down to her toes, to say nothing of other body parts. The man didn't even have to touch her and she was fired up. Something about the way he studied Maddy told her he wanted to uncover her secret desires, the ones she never dared utter to another human being. She had the strong suspicion that he would be happy to help her bring them to life.

“What's running through that beautiful head of yours?”

“I was just thinking what a nice Thanksgiving this has been,” she said. That wasn't exactly a fib, more like stretching the truth. “Not the most traditional, but then again, I'm not a big one for traditions.”

“No?” He eyed her skeptically. “You don't have
any
traditions?”

“Not really. Well, at Christmas, I usually make an apple pie from scratch. My mom always whipped one up when I was a kid, and then after she died, I took over the job. It was a way to keep her close to me, I guess. She had that
Better Homes and Garden Cook Book
, the one with the red-plaid cover that resembled a picnic tablecloth? Hers was beat up and covered in grease stains, but I still have it despite the fact that I have that pie and crust recipe memorized. Rick ate it every year, even though he hated apple pie.”

She sucked in a deep breath and held it for a second before continuing. Maddy thought it might be strange to bring up her life with Rick, but the open, accepting expression on Ronan's face instantly put her at ease.

“Go on.” He leaned both arms on the table, as if ready to soak up every word. “It's okay. I want to hear about it.”

“Rick and I didn't have any family. Neither of us had any siblings. Our parents had all passed on, and with no children of our own…well…the holidays weren't really a big deal. Besides, he almost always worked them. The other guys in the squad had families, so he would offer to take those shifts.”

“He was a good man.”

“He was.” She nodded and smiled at the fond memories. “We were both married to our jobs, which is probably why we never married each other. I never pushed for it, and he never asked. In fact,” she said with a soft laugh, “we never even talked about it. That's funny, isn't it? We were together for almost a decade, but not once in all that time did we talk about getting married. We lived together and had a blast.” Maddy smiled and quietly said, “I guess that was enough for us.”

Ronan studied her intently and nodded slowly. Silence hung between them for a moment or two, and she was relieved not to see a look of pity in his eyes. Instead, there was acceptance and understanding.

At the moment, she was pretty thankful for that.

“How about you?” she asked brightly, desperately wanting to keep the mood upbeat. “Enough about me and my sad stories. Tell me about the McGuire traditions.”

“Alright. Thanksgiving usually involves an enormous amount of food. Football on the television while Mom cooks. Then after dinner but before dessert, my brothers and Dad and I play a game of touch football that typically turns into tackle. Then, during dessert, we all go around the table and say what we're thankful for.” Ronan picked up his wineglass and took a healthy sip. “So how about a little McGuire tradition tonight? What are you thankful for, Mads?”

“You first,” she said quietly.

“My family, that's always at the top of the list, and our good health. I'm thankful Gavin and Jordan found their way back to each other.” Ronan's gaze flicked from his wineglass to her mouth before traveling up to look her in the eyes. His voice was quiet and steady and sent a shiver over her flesh. “I'm also thankful that I've gotten to know you better, Maddy Morgan. Your turn.”

She debated how honest she should be, but staring into his earnest, handsome face, she knew he deserved nothing less. A man like Ronan—one driven by duty, honor, and loyalty—earned far more than some prepackaged response from her.

“To be honest,” Maddy began slowly, “if you had asked me this question a few months ago, I don't think I would have had an answer. Losing Rick and the grief that came with it almost swallowed me up. Hell, I had to move everything to try to get away from it, to shake it off. But you know, leaving Old Brookfield last year wasn't what helped me start to move on.”

“What is it, then?”

“You,” she said softly. Her fingers shook around the stem of her glass, and her heart raced as she admitted the truth to him and to herself at the same time. “You've been an incredible friend, Ronan. I don't know if I can ever repay you for that.”

Her throat thickened with emotion and tears stung her eyes, but Maddy willed them away. She took another healthy sip of wine. All the while, Ronan's eyes stayed fixed on her. Oh jeez. Maybe she'd said too much. Her face heated and a hint of embarrassment crept in, but in true Ronan fashion, he diffused the situation with humor.

“Well, you
have
been politely laughing at my stories all night, and you haven't even mentioned how badly I've been hogging the conversation.” He winked. “Consider us even.”

“No,” she said, laughing. “I'm serious.”

“So am I. My brothers
did
call me Motormouth when I was a kid. In fact, Gavin said he thinks the reason I became a K-9 officer was so I could monopolize the conversations with my partner.”

“I remember that nickname,” Maddy said with a smile. She let out a contented sigh and ran her finger along the base of her glass. “But it wasn't your
only
nickname.”

“Is that so?” His lips curved into a cocky smirk.

“Mmm-hmm.” Maddy nodded. She leaned back in her chair and crossed her legs. “If memory serves, the girls in school also referred to you as ‘Make-Out McGuire.'”

Her body warmed, recalling the two kisses they had shared.

The man had definitely earned that nickname, and she'd be lying if she said she hadn't replayed those moments over and over in her head. If Maddy was brutally honest with herself, she would admit she was hoping for more than a kiss tonight. She hadn't realized how starved she was for physical affection until she got a taste of Ronan.

Sex didn't have to mean love or commitment. It could just be sex—simply two adults taking comfort and pleasure in each other's arms. Easy. No muss. No fuss.

Her gaze skittered over the angles and planes of Ronan's strong jaw as the light of the table candle flickered, casting shadows and making the color of his eyes stand out even more than usual. They crinkled at the corners, and she couldn't help but smile with him.

“Never heard that one before,” he said with feigned innocence.

“Really? I find it hard to believe that you weren't aware of your reputation. Let's be honest, McGuire. You dated most of the girls in your class and half the girls in mine.”

“That's interesting.” Ronan leaned both elbows on the table and leveled a knowing gaze at her.

“What is?”

“I thought you barely knew I existed back in high school.”

Silence hung between them, and Maddy's heartbeat picked up. She probably should have played it cool, but why bother? She wanted him. And if she were going to be really honest with herself, a part of her always had. But even when they were kids, there was something dangerous about Ronan. It was like she knew, deep in her gut, that if she allowed herself to get too close, there would be no going back.

Nope. Nope. Nope.

What the hell was she thinking? The sex-only idea was a colossally bad one. She couldn't compartmentalize with a man like him. Men like Ronan McGuire didn't fit neatly in one little spot; he couldn't be contained. There was pervasiveness about him. It was the same quality that allowed him to fill a wide-open space simply by stepping into it. If she allowed it, Ronan could consume her and obliterate all the neat little boundaries she had built around her heart.

No sex. Just friends. That's it, Morgan. Be smart.

“You're not an easy man to ignore, and you know it.” A smile touched her lips. “Believe me, I've tried. But you are one tenacious son of a gun, and you've only gotten more so as the years have passed. Let's just say…I noticed you.”

“Good to know,” he murmured, his gaze skittering over her face. “I noticed you too. More than that, honestly. You were the one girl I wanted who wanted nothing to do with me.”

Oh boy, so not smart.

Her breath hitched in her throat, and her blood began to hum. Maybe it was the wine? She bought that lie for about three seconds—right until Ronan reached across the table and covered her hand with his. His long, strong fingers curled around hers, and the heat of his flesh seared over Maddy's with wicked promise. She sucked in a shuddering breath and imagined him running his hands over far-more-sensitive areas.

Holy crap; she was in big, fat, stupid trouble.

Her cheeks heated.

“Who gets the bad news?”

The waitress's playful but poorly timed interruption broke the moment. Maddy swiftly pulled her hand from Ronan's before reaching for her small evening bag. A shadow passed briefly over Ronan's face but he recovered, flashing that charming smile to the young woman before taking the check.

“That's all mine,” Ronan said, placing the leather folder next to his plate. “Thank you.”

“Don't be silly,” Maddy said quickly. She fished through the small zipper compartment for her credit card. “This isn't the fifties. Let's go dutch. What do I owe you?”

When she finally looked back up at Ronan, the annoyed expression on his face stopped her cold. He slipped his card into the folder and held it up for the waitress without taking his eyes off Maddy's.

“Like I said…I got it.”

“Ronan,” Maddy said, flicking an embarrassed glance to the waitress. “This place is really expensive. Come on, let me pitch in.”

“No way.” Ronan leaned back in his chair and waved at the waitress while staring Maddy down. “Just bring me a receipt, please.”

The waitress lingered for a few seconds before finally scurrying away with the check and Ronan's credit card.

“Ronan,” Maddy said with a warning tone. “Our bill had to be at least two hundred and fifty bucks. Stop being such a guy and at least let me leave a tip.”

“No.” He smiled and finished off his wine. “In case you forgot, we're on a date. In my world, that means the
guy
picks up the check.”

“I know we're on a date but—”

“I'm not finished.” He placed his glass on the table and leaned closer, lowering his voice to barely above a whisper. “Now, I may not be able to afford a fancy West Side apartment like you and your clients, but I can certainly manage to take a beautiful woman out for a nice Thanksgiving dinner.”

Oh shit.

Ronan thought she was implying that he was too poor to pay for it? Embarrassment flickered up her spine, and in that moment, all she wanted to do was crawl under the table and disappear. They had been having a lovely evening, and Maddy had managed to ruin it by insulting him. She didn't care how much money he made or didn't make.

She rarely gave much thought to money at all.

“I didn't mean it like that,” Maddy said quickly. “I was only saying—”

“That some poor old cop can't afford a fancy joint like you can.”

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