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

“Yes, lad?”

“I need to talk to you about Maggie.”

He firms his lips but doesn’t say anything, waiting for me to continue.

“I’m dating her.”

His eyes light with humor, and he smacks me on the shoulder. “It’s about time, my boy.”

“You’re okay with it?”

“Is there a reason I should forbid it?”

I shake my head and rub my hand over my mouth. “No, sir. But I’m older than she is by about a decade, and some might find that disturbing.”

Tom’s quiet as we listen to Keegan and Izzy exclaiming and fussing over Fiona. They’re obviously surprised and excited.

“I’ve known you the majority of your young life,” Tom says at last. “And I couldn’t love you more as a son than if you’d been born from Fiona’s body. You’re part of our family.”

“And I’m grateful.”

He turns to me in surprise. “Grateful? It’s not gratitude that any of us want from you, boy. We just want your love and respect.”

“And you have it, in spades.”

“I know we do.” He calms and pats my shoulder. “Maggie didn’t grow up with you the way the others did because she was so much younger, so it makes sense that it’s not a brother she sees when she looks at you. It’s a good man you are, and any father would count himself lucky to know that you have your eyes on his daughter.”

“Thank you.” Relief brushes away the heaviness I’ve carried on my shoulders.

“She’s been hurt before,” he continues. “And I trust that history won’t repeat itself.”

“No.” I shake my head. “I’d rather die than ever hurt her. I love her.”

“Have you told her that news yet?”

I grin and shrug one shoulder. “Not yet. I don’t think she’s ready to hear it. But we’ll get there. There’s no hurry.”

“You’re a smart man,” Tom says and claps me on the back as we walk toward the kitchen. “A smart, smart man. I think you got that from me.”

“I think you’re right.”

“Da!” Keegan exclaims and hurries over to hug his father. “How did you keep this a secret?”

“We had Cameron help us,” Fiona says. “Now, that’s a lad who can keep a secret. If we’d told anyone else, it wouldn’t have been a secret at all.”

“I’m offended,” Shawn decides. “I can keep a bloody secret.”

“Right.” Lexi rolls her eyes and then laughs. “You’re a vault.”

“I am,” Shawn insists but then chuckles. “I don’t care who kept the secret. It was a damn good one. I’m so glad you’re here.”

“As are we, boy,” Tom says. “Now, is there some stew simmering? This old man needs something in his belly.”

“You ate on the plane,” Fiona reminds him.

I slink away to go put out a fire at Kane’s place. I don’t know what he’s done this time to rile Maggie up, but she sounded good and pissed on the phone.

Exactly nine minutes later, I walk into Kane’s house and through to the sunporch where we usually sit when we’re here. Kane has a killer view of the ocean.

Murphy, Kane’s yellow dog, runs over to greet me, and I scratch his ears.

But I narrow my eyes when I see the other two people in the room.

Maggie.

And Bill Miller, the private investigator that Kane hired after Joey died.

“Why is he here?”

“Wait.” Maggie rounds on me, fire shooting from her magnificent green eyes. “You know about him? You know?”

“Okay, let’s calm down,” Kane says.

“Fuck that,” Maggie says. “I told you that I was done. I don’t want to know any more about the shit that Joey pulled. It’s over. I’m moving on with my damn life, so anything that he has to say is irrelevant to me.”

I stare at my best friend incredulously, then sigh and push my fingers into my eyes to try to relieve the headache that’s set up residence just behind them.

“I wouldn’t have asked you to come here if I didn’t think the information that Bill has is valuable,” Kane says. “And before you cut my bleeding head off again, you’ll shut up and listen, Mary Margaret.”

If looks could kill, Kane would be in a bloody heap on the floor.

“I don’t mean to upset you,” Bill says. “There hasn’t been much to find that you didn’t already know. Until about two days ago.”

He opens his briefcase and pulls out some paper copies of documents and photos.

“I stumbled upon this account and safety deposit box belonging to a Lemonade, LLC in the Cayman Islands.”

It’s about time you found that account, you idiot.

Maggie’s eyes widen, but then she shrugs. “So?”

I want to pull her to me and tell her that everything will be okay. But when it comes to this matter, I don’t know how much reassurance or support she wants from me. She’s been hell-bent on healing privately, almost from the minute she found out that her husband was dead.

“So, your safety deposit box key probably goes to that,” Kane says.