Take A Chance With Me (With Me in Seattle 18)

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.”