Cover

Prologue

~Maggie~

Two Years Ago

“I’m gonna go talk to him.” I suck down the last half of my martini, confidence bolstered by the liquor and having my friends around me. It’s a girls’ night out in my family’s pub, and damn it, I need…something.

A connection? Attention from a man that my piece-of-shit late husband was never willing—or able—to provide, perhaps?

A damn orgasm for the first time in my life.

All of the above.

I slide out of the booth and take a deep breath. If I don’t go over to the bar and talk to him now, I never will. And damn it, he’s hot.

Of course, if my eldest brother, Kane, finds out, he might be super mad at me. I’m about to hit on his best friend, after all. And, well, that’s just madness. Cameron Cox has been in my life for as long as I can remember. He’s a decade older than me, so I don’t know him well. He’s just always…there.

And he’s the sexiest man on the planet.

I’m drunk. I’m sick of being sad and embarrassed. And I want him.

“Hey,” I say as I sidle up next to him at the bar. Keegan, my other brother, raises a brow, asking if I want a drink, but I shake my head. He tips his lips in a half-grin and walks off to help other customers.

Cameron’s gaze turns down to me, and he smiles.

Fucking hell, his smile should be illegal in the presence of a slightly drunk woman.

“Hi, yourself,” he says. “You doing okay?”

It’s now or never, Mags. Let’s do this.

“Honestly? I’m great. But I could use some company, if you know what I mean. Naked company.”

That smile vanishes, and his crystal-blue eyes narrow on me. His jaw tightens. My heart beats so hard that blood rushes through my ears, drowning out everything else around me.

If he turns me away right now, I might die of embarrassment.

He shakes his head, sips his beer as if he’s trying to come up with a response—or an excuse—and then pins me with that intense gaze once more.

“I’m not one to turn down an offer like that from the most gorgeous woman here.”

I laugh in relief and lay my hand on his shoulder, which he takes and kisses. And then, without another word, we walk out of the bar.

He leads me to his car, a classic Mustang, but before he opens the passenger door, he leans in and whispers in my ear.

“Are you absolutely sure this is what you want, Maggie?”

“Yes.” Absolutely. Give me all the orgasms.

“It could open a can of worms with the family,” he warns me.

“I’m an adult, Cam. I get to make these decisions for myself. Unless you’re afraid of Kane.”

“Kane doesn’t scare me.” He sighs and drags a thumb down my cheek. “And you’re not just sad or angry?”

I know he’s asking if I’m coming on to him because of grief after losing my husband a month ago. But I’m not grieving. He was mean to me, didn’t love me, and made me feel worthless.

“No, this isn’t grief talking.”

He nods, kisses my cheek, and opens the door. “Fair enough.”

I sit in the low seat and take another deep breath. The cool Washington air helped to clear my head a bit, but I’m still floaty, my lips a little numb as he sits next to me and fires up the engine. Without asking, he drives us to his hotel, the place he stays whenever he’s in town, and again takes me by the hand to lead me up to his suite.

His hand is big, firm, and folds around mine with a comforting warmth I didn’t expect. He’s tall, muscular, and lean through the hips.

I’ve wanted to bury my fingers in his thick, dark hair for years. And when alone and lying in the dark, I often wondered what his lips would taste like.

Not that I would have ever acted on it. Not in a million years. He’s my brother’s best friend, and I was married.

But now, I’m not.

When we’re in the room, and the door is closed, Cameron rounds on me, pins my back to the wood, and lowers his head to mine. He presses his lips to my forehead, my nose, and then glides them over to my ear, sending a thrilling chill down my arms.

“Gorgeous,” he whispers, echoing his sentiment in the bar. “Fucking amazing.”

My breath catches when he skims his teeth over my skin, just beneath my ear. His hands push up under my shirt, over my ribs.

Nothing in my entire twenty-six years has ever made me feel like this.

“If you want me to stop,” he whispers before nipping at my jawline, “just tell me to, okay?”

I nod, but he pulls back to look into my eyes and takes my chin in his fingers.

“Use your words, Maggie.” I like that he’s in control. That he’s taking care of me and is so sure of himself.

“I understand.” My voice is squeaky and broken, and his lips pull into a small smile.

Those magical hands of his glide back down to cup my ass, and the next thing I know, he’s lifting me against him. With my arms wrapped around his neck, he carries me to the bed and lays me down.

The first kiss is staggering. If I were on my feet, I’d fall to the floor. His lips are soft and sure, not bruising or aggressive.

They tease open my mouth, and he takes his time. Truly just sinks in and leisurely kisses and touches and learns.

He presses one leg between mine, just over the most intimate part of me that begs for more, denim against denim, and I feel the flush move through me from my head to my feet.

My hands slide into his hair as he takes the kiss deeper, and we start to move against each other, searching for more.

“Skin,” I gasp as I grapple with his shirt. “I want your clothes off.”

“Excellent idea.” He pushes up onto his knees and tugs his shirt over his head, dropping it onto the floor. In the moonlight, I can see his chiseled muscles. His smooth flesh. I can’t help but reach out to touch him, letting my fingertips dance over his skin.

“Am I dreaming this?” He smiles, and I realize that I spoke the thought aloud.

“If you are, don’t wake us up,” he says as he helps me out of my shirt and bra. The next thing I know, his lips are around my nipple, and my hips are moving, grinding against his leg.

God, I want him. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything more. And if the amazing sensations moving through me are any indication, I’ll be getting some long-overdue orgasms very soon.

He easily unfastens my jeans and pushes his hand inside, under my panties. When he finds my center, he groans.

“Christ, you’re slick,” he whispers and bites my chin.

I spread my legs wider in invitation, and he slides a finger inside me.

“Oh, God.” I arch my back, and he licks my nipple as his hand does magical things between my legs. Just as I’m about to come, he pulls his hand away. “No, don’t stop, Cameron.”

“Not yet,” he replies and kisses me again. “I want you to come when I’m inside you.”

“Then get a move on, damn it.”

He laughs and pushes his jeans down his hips, reaching for a condom. But before he can rip the packet open, his phone rings.

We still and stare at each other in the moonlight.

“Don’t answer it.”

“I have to. It’s my job, Maggie.”

I shake my head, but he reaches over and, with his eyes pinned to mine, answers.

“Cox.” His eyes narrow. “Copy that. What’s the ETA? Damn. Yeah, yeah, I’ve got it. On my way.”

He hangs up and tosses his phone onto the bed, then looks down at me with an apology written all over his face.

“No.”

“I’m sorry, I have to go.” He kisses me lightly. “I have to be at the airstrip in twenty minutes.”

You have got to be kidding me!

“Don’t leave me like this. Call in sick or something.”

“That’s not how this works.” His expression is grim as he tugs me close to him. “I’m sorry, Maggie. I’ll make it up to you.”

I’ll make it up to you.

I’ve heard those words before. More times than I can count.

“Forget about it.” I reach for my shirt and tug it over my head. “This was probably a bad idea anyway.”

He fastens his jeans and pulls his shirt on, his hair a mess as he stares at me with conflict waging war in his blue eyes.

“This isn’t over. As soon as I’m able, I’ll be back, Maggie.”

“Where are you going?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

“Right.” I nod and blow out a breath. “You’d better go.”

“You’re mad.”

“Bet your ass, I’m mad. But we don’t have time to get into that now.”

He crosses to me and cups my face, but I’ve already emotionally pulled away.

Men leave. They lie. Break promises and leave me hanging.

I knew better than this. I don’t know why I thought it would be different with Cam.

Cameron kisses me softly. “I promise, I’ll be back. Do you want me to drive you to the pub?”

“No.” Hell, no. I’d rather die. “I’m good. Don’t worry about me.”

He throws some things into his bag, looks back at me once more, and then he’s gone.

And I know in my heart that I’ll never be able to forgive him for this—or myself for letting it happen. Even if it’s not entirely Cameron’s fault. I know he has a job that takes him away, but it’s too familiar, too close to what I put up with from the jerk I was married to.

Cameron is the last man on the planet I should be throwing myself at.

And I’d do well to remember that.

Chapter 1

~Maggie~

“For the love of all that’s holy, it’s blustery out there,” I announce and shiver as I hurry into the pub, just a little late for my shift. I’m on table duty, and despite the monsoon outside, it’ll be a busy Saturday night in the bar, full of regulars and tourists alike, taking refuge from the storm. “Sorry, I’m late. My car was giving me fits.”

“Mary Margaret, you need a new vehicle,” Keegan says as I wiggle out of my rain slicker. “You’ve needed one for years.”

“I don’t drive very much.” I can hear the defensiveness in my voice. “Just here and home. The store once in a while. It does fine.”

My brother looks as if he wants to disagree, but I shake my head at him.

“It’s fine,” I repeat and grab a clean black apron, tying it around my waist. “What do you want to wager that the customers won’t have the sense to stay home and out of this mess?”

“I hope they don’t,” Keegan says with a laugh. “We need them, lass.”

“How are Izzy and the baby?”

I swear, I’m surrounded by babies these days. Between Keegan and Izzy and Kane and Anastasia, we have two little ones about, and my sister, Maeve, is halfway through her first pregnancy.

We’re just a baby factory around here.

Keegan’s face softens into a gooey smile. Never thought I’d see the day that I would describe my brother as gooey, but here we are. He’s completely and utterly smitten with his gorgeous wife and their newborn daughter. It’s fun to watch.

“They’re the sun and stars,” he says. “And doing well. Izzy’s overseeing some things at the new house.”

“When do you move in? I thought it was done. Also, how you managed to build a house in less than a year, I’ll never know. Construction crews have been short-handed the past couple of years, slowing everything down.”

“We were lucky, and that’s the truth of it. Izzy wants things to be just so before we move in so we don’t have to do any work with the house once we’re in. I can’t blame her. She has her hands full with the baby, as well.”

Izzy hasn’t wanted any of us to come to the new house, not until it’s all furnished and ready so she can have a grand reveal. I’m dying to see it.

We O’Callaghans are a tight-knit bunch, we know everything about each other, and it’s unheard of for us not to be involved in a project from start to finish.

But it’ll be a fun housewarming party when Izzy decides she’s ready.

“Good God, it’s a mess out there,” Maeve announces as she walks inside. She has Rachel, her new stepdaughter, with her. Rachel’s been working for us for a while now, clearing tables and delivering food orders, and I don’t know what we’d do without her. “I guess the rainy season is upon us. Again.”

“I made an extra pot of stew,” I say as I wipe off my tray and get ready to wait tables. “It’ll go fast in this weather.”

“Brilliant,” Keegan says just as the door opens and a table of four walks inside. “Here we go.”

Despite the moody early spring weather, the customers are jovial and happy to be out of the rain. The Guinness flows, hot food from the kitchen is dispatched thanks to my brother Shawn and his wife, Lexi, and the night moves on without a hitch.

“I need two pints of Guinness and a cola, please,” I say to Keegan and wait for him to fill the drink order as Maeve approaches and calls out her order, as well. Despite being in her second trimester, the woman can move. And she never complains. “Was that guy bothering you?”

I noticed a man in his thirties with bright copper hair giving my sister a toothy grin. He was a little too friendly for my taste.

We’ve seen all kinds in here. Been groped and slapped. Even had to hit back and kick them out a couple of times. Press charges.

Thankfully, that’s rare, but it’s not unheard of.

“Nah, he’s harmless,” she says, waving off my concern. “So, what’s up with you? Are you going to see Mr. Pickup Truck again?”

I roll my eyes at the thought of Monday’s date.

“No. Turns out he’s still legally married.” I sigh and lean on the bar. “Online dating is hard. Why are so many people horrible?”

“If I knew the answer to that, I’d be rich,” Maeve replies.

“You are rich.”

“My husband’s rich,” she retorts. As a former MMA fighting superstar, Hunter has more money than God himself. “I’m not rich.”

“Whatever.” I roll my eyes and shake my head at my stubborn sister. “And to answer your question about Mr. Pickup Truck, no, that idiot isn’t allowed to speak to me again. We got halfway into dinner when he casually mentioned that not only is he still legally married, but he also lives with his wife and two kids.”

“So, he’s just plain married,” Maeve says.

“Exactly. What a jerk. But I am going to dinner tomorrow night with a guy who says he just moved here to the island. I don’t have high hopes.”

“Where are you going?”

“I’m meeting him at the diner. Easy, casual, and no one should be able to screw this up. Then we’ll take it from there.”

“Good plan.”

Maeve’s gaze leaves my face and focuses on something just over my shoulder. When I turn around, I find Cameron Cox standing right behind me.

I freaking hate the way my body comes alive when I see him. How I immediately remember what it was like to be half-naked and in his arms—and then frustrated and embarrassed when he abandoned me.

The jerk.

“Hi.” I hear the moodiness in my voice that always appears when Cameron’s near.

“Hey, yourself. So, going on a date tomorrow, huh?”

“Yeah.” I load my tray and, without sparing him another look, set off to my tables. I deliver drinks and take food orders. I joke with my regular customers and sing along with the band as I weave my way through the tables.

All the while, I’m acutely aware of Cam’s gaze following me through the pub.

We’ve had moments alone since that night. He’s been a good friend.

But that’s all he’ll ever be. A friend. Because he doesn’t stay. And I’ve been in that relationship. I’ve been alone while my husband goes off to God knows where. I’m not doing that again.

But when I return to the bar and see Cam’s blue gaze on mine, I feel that flutter in my belly that I always do. I still want him.

I just can’t have him.

“So, you work at that Irish pub in town?”

My date’s name is Derek Lewis, and when he saw the menu here at the little diner in town, he wrinkled his nose.

Apparently, Derek is vegan, and there’s pretty much nothing on this greasy-spoon menu that looks appetizing to him.

His eating preferences don’t bother me, but it’s a diner.

“I do,” I reply and set my napkin in my lap. I’m excited to eat the cheeseburger that’s on its way out to me. “It’s a family business. My brother owns it—”

“So, you don’t own it?” he interrupts.

“No, my brother—”

“What are your ambitions for your career then?”

Okay, Derek is a bit of an asshole. I sit back as the waitress sets a big plate in front of me with my burger and a small mountain of fries. Derek ordered the dinner salad.

Before I can dig into my meal, I see Cameron come into the diner with a woman I don’t recognize.

I narrow my eyes.

Cam looks my way, gives me a slight nod, and then sits with his date, three tables over, right in my line of sight.

Great.

“Maggie?”

“What? Oh. I’m sorry, what were you saying?”

“What do you have planned for your career? You can’t work in a bar forever.”

I pop a fry into my mouth and study Derek. He’s in his mid-thirties with a little gray at the temples. He has a bit of acne on his chin and a crooked nose. It looks as if someone hauled off and punched him at some point, and he never had it fixed.

Frankly, I wouldn’t mind punching him myself.

“Why do you say that?” I take a big bite of my burger and watch as Derek’s nose wrinkles. The fact that I’m pleased by his repulsion of my food choice probably makes me a bad person.

I’m not sorry.

“Because that’s not ambitious. How will you support yourself?”

“I haven’t had a problem so far.”

Okay, so I can’t afford that new car I need, but my bills are paid, and I’m not hurting. I’m a simple girl.

Cameron laughs across the room and smiles intimately with his date, and I take another big bite of my burger.

Is he doing it on purpose? Is he trying to make me jealous? Because it’s not working.

Cam reaches over and wipes something off his date’s lip, and I have to fight the urge to go over there.

This is ridiculous.

“So, you’re telling me that you have no intention to better yourself?”

I turn my attention back to my date and narrow my eyes at him as I feel my Irish temper starting to heat up.

“What do you do, Derek?”

“I’m a banker.”

“Ah, so you just sit around and count other people’s money all day.”

His jaw tightens. “No, I open accounts and help people with loan applications.”

“Groundbreaking.” I slather a fry with ketchup and pop it into my mouth. “What are your aspirations?”

Cameron laughs again, and my stomach lurches, so I take another big bite of my burger.

“I’ll eventually move up in the bank, and I’d like a family. A wife who also has a strong work ethic in an acceptable career. A couple of children. A home.”

“If your wife is working her ass off in an acceptable career, who’s taking care of the kids?”

“You notice I said, ‘a strong work ethic.’ She’ll be able to handle it.”

I nod and watch as Cam pays his check,—I guess they only wanted coffee?—and they walk out.

“I think it’s safe to say that I won’t be that wife,” I say and finish my burger.

“I don’t know, you’re pretty enough. I’m sure you could take business courses or something and work in an office.”

“Here’s a little something about me, Derek.” I crook my finger as if I want him to get closer so I can tell him a secret. “I was married to an asshole once already. I won’t be making that mistake again. I hope you don’t find some poor girl that you can control and mold into your idea of the perfect wife.”

I toss a twenty on the table because I’ll be damned if this man will pay for my dinner, and then I stand and, without a look back, stroll out of the restaurant.

I walk toward home. It’s not far, and the weather cleared after our huge storm yesterday, leaving the air cool but not unpleasant.

Not to mention, my car wouldn’t start again.

I’ve had that car for years. Joey bought it, and he was horrible about getting it serviced. He always claimed to forget, but the truth is, he just didn’t care. I got stranded more than once, always to the dismay of my family, who had to come and get me. Not because they minded helping me out, but because my husband was a big jerk who didn’t take care of me.

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