Escape With Me (With Me in Seattle 16)

“I know. Stay with me tonight.”

“I planned on it.”

He laughs and plants a kiss on my forehead. “I guess you weren’t that mad at me, then.”

“Oh, I was mad, but I knew we’d figure it out by this evening. I don’t really hold much of a grudge. Unless you’re my parents. Or Troy.”

“It’s good that I’m neither of those.” He opens the door, and we find Fiona and Tom arguing in the hallway.

“It’s a bloody stubborn arse that you are, Thomas O’Callaghan,” Fiona says.

“Looks like arguments are going around today,” Keegan observes. “What seems to be the problem?”

“I’m taking your mother into the doctor tomorrow for her shoulder, whether she likes it or not,” Tom says, standing firm. I have a hunch he doesn’t do this unless it’s important.

Which tells me that Fiona’s shoulder has been bothering her more than she’s willing to admit.

“I just pulled something from lifting heavy bags of potatoes or some stupid thing,” she insists.

“I’m with Da on this one,” Keegan says. “You’ve been complaining about it for a while now. It’s time to have it looked at.”

“A bunch of bullies, the lot of you,” Fiona mutters before storming off into the kitchen.

“It’s a bully I am because I want to keep my wife healthy and strong.” Tom shakes his head. “Women. I can’t go a day without her, yet sometimes, I want to tumble her right into the sea.”

I laugh as he walks away and lean my head on Keegan’s biceps. “They’re so lovely together.”

“Even when they’re mad, it’s obvious they love each other. It was a good example to have growing up.”

I nod and think about my parents and how I always knew they barely tolerated each other. What would it have been like to grow up with loving parents who doted on each other?

I shake my head. There’s no sense dwelling on that since it is what it is.

“Hey, do you remember a couple of weeks ago when we were at the diner, and Cameron asked if he could speak to you and your brothers? Did you ever do that?”

Keegan’s brow furrows. “No, now that you mention it, we didn’t. I completely forgot about it. I’ll ask Kane if he knows what’s up.”

“I don’t know why that popped into my head this morning,” I say. “And I was curious if you’d had the chance to talk.”

“It’s good having you around,” he replies. “You’re a great human to-do list.”

“I have the memory of an elephant.” I laugh and get to work.

* * *

“I cannot believe I burned my damn hand,” Maeve says as she scowls at the gauze wrapped around her palm as the rest of us clean up from another busy evening. “What in the hell is wrong with me?”

“You’ve been working a lot of hours,” I remind her.

“You need to take a few nights to yourself, Maeve,” Keegan agrees. “I don’t need to be taking up all of your spare time.”

“What am I going to do, sit at home and binge Netflix?”

“That sounds lovely,” I say. “But something tells me you’re not the sit-and-watch-TV type.”

“You’d be right.” She cringes. “But I think I’ll have to take you up on it because I can’t grip drinks with this hand. Sorry, guys.”

“Just take care of yourself,” Keegan assures her.

We finish cleaning up the bar, and Keegan walks his sisters out to their cars. I go ahead and climb the stairs to the dwelling above. I like Keegan’s apartment. It’s very small, but it’s comfortable. And it always makes me feel safe.

Maybe that’s because it was literally my safe place after my world fell apart.

I’ve just peeled off my clothes and stepped into a warm shower when the bathroom door opens.

“I’m glad you feel at home here.” He steps into the shower with me and immediately starts to wash my hair.

This is a little luxury I love. It always feels better when someone else washes your hair. And Keegan’s hands are the best.

“I’m glad you don’t mind that I make myself at home.”

“If I minded, I wouldn’t invite you up here. And we can’t do this at Maggie’s house. She’d barge right in.”

I laugh and then sigh when his fingertips massage my scalp. “You’re so good with your hands.”

“Hmm.”

He rinses my hair, and then kisses me long and slow while he ducks under the spray. I wash his back, his arms, his stomach.

“The first time I saw your abs, I thought that a woman could wash her clothes on them.”

He lets out a laugh. “Is that so?”

“Yeah. Have you seen them?”

He glances down. “There they are.”

“Bless them.” I let my hands drift over each individual muscle. “I was never really an abs girl before. I mean, I could appreciate a flat stomach on a man, but it really wasn’t a big deal. And then you took your shirt off, and I suddenly understood what all the fuss was about.”