Chapter 29 – New Year’s Eve
CHAPTER 29
CALLUM
NEW YEAR’S EVE
I hadn’t seen Maeve since Christmas Day. It was like she’d fallen off the face of the planet. If the crates of booze weren’t left outside at the end of every day like normal, I would’ve worried myself sick about her.
God only knew how I stayed away. The urge to go up to my apartment, let myself in, and force her into submission the same way I did before was real. I could have even made it work, but in the long run, I knew Maeve would resent me for it. I already took her choices away from her once, and I wasn’t about to do it again.
So, I did as she asked. I stayed away and tried to give her the space she’d asked for, even if it did drive me fucking crazy.
My days were spent over at the gym with Donovan, starting his renovations, and then I’d head on over to the bar and work all night. I was exhausted, but I couldn’t sleep anyway, so no harm, no foul.
New Year’s Eve was finally upon us, and it was one of the busiest nights for the Shamrock. A steady stream of patrons had been turning up since about seven. Now, it was almost eleven, and the place was packed to the rafters.
Donovan stopped letting people in about thirty minutes before. I didn’t want to screw around with regulations, and anyway, the wait and bar staff were already struggling to keep up with orders.
Everybody was here: the Speed Demons, their women, my brothers and sister. It seemed the entire town had turned up, all except the one person I wanted here.
My wife.
I was on the verge of calling Ma and asking her to come in and help when I spotted her across the room. Unfortunately, it wasn’t Maeve who stopped me in my tracks but another woman entirely.
Bethany Tucker was the cousin of Carl. She lived in Nebraska, and I’d known her since we were both seventeen and we lost our virginity to each other one summer when she visited him and his family.
Beth was nothing like her cousin. She was blonde, leggy, gorgeous, and sexy, with big green eyes and a wicked sense of humor. She was the only repeat I’d ever had, and the only woman I’d ever considered making my girlfriend. In the end, distance kept us apart. She met a guy and got married, and we ended things.
About two years ago, she got a divorce and came to visit, so of course, we ended up in bed again. Since then, we’d met up a few more times, usually for sex, and even spoken on the phone here and there. Like I said, she was funny and a cool chick, but that was all before Maeve.
Beth looked straight at me and lifted her hand in a small wave just as my face stretched into a wide smile. Within seconds, I was over there, sweeping her up into a big hug and swinging her around. “Jesus,” I exclaimed. “How have you been?”
Beth pulled back, her green eyes roaming over my face. “I’m good. How are you?”
I shrugged. “Fucked up from working so hard.”
“Good,” she stated. “Working hard’s all that keeps you out of trouble.”
I chuckled. “Well, not really. Trouble found me in the form of a wife. I got married a few months ago.”
Her jaw fell to the floor.
I wiggled my ring finger in her face. “Somebody finally made an honest man outta me.”
She shook her head slowly, fixing a smile on her face. “Wow, Callum. I can hardly believe it.” She looked around the bar. “Where is she? If you were my husband, I’d be glued to your side.”
An uneasy feeling washed over me, and I frowned.
There was no mistaking the hint of bitchiness in her tone, which wasn’t like Bethany. She’d always been nice and polite; of course, not as sweet and personable as Maeve, but not many people were.
“You okay?” I asked, releasing her shoulders. “You seem irritated.”
Beth seemed lost for words for a minute, but then she sighed. “Look, I’m sorry. I was hoping to come here and finally—” She paused for a few seconds before continuing, “We’ve been skirting around each other for too long. I was thinking new year, fresh start and all that.”
The meaning behind her words dawned on me, and my eyes widened. “Oh.”
Her hand came to mine, and she began to lace our fingers together, looking up at me. “Wanna go somewhere quiet and talk?”
I ripped my fingers away from hers as if I’d been burnt and muttered, “Shit.”
Her hand rested on my chest. “I’ve missed you.”
“Are you fuckin’ crazy?” I snapped, my tone high with panic. “I just said I’m married.” I took a step back from her and bumped into somebody who was standing behind me. That was when Maeve’s voice rang out.
“Hi!”
Slowly, I looked over my shoulder to see my wife at my back with her eyebrow cocked and a hand on her popped hip. “I’m Maeve,” she announced, her stare resting on Beth. “Callum’s wife. ” She looked at me, and her lips twitched before her eyes drifted back to Bethany, hardening slightly. “And you are...?”
“An old friend of Callum’s,” Beth replied, her face flushed and looking suitably chastised.
“I see,” Maeve clipped out, holding Beth’s shocked gaze.
I looked between the two women, a little dazed.
How could this happen? Did Maeve hear everything? And more to the point, did she think I’d blindsided her again? After the Saskia debacle, I promised Maeve I wouldn’t let another woman touch me, but Beth just pawed at me.
Fuck.
There was no way I could allow this to stand.
I grabbed Maeve’s hand and brought it to my lips to kiss her knuckles. “This is Bethany Tucker. She’s an old friend of mine. We used to see each other, but she lives out of town. She didn’t know about you until?—”
“Until you just told her you were married,” Maeve’s eyes flashed, “twice, I believe, and she still tried to put her hands all over you.” Maeve’s stare was definitely accusatory, but it wasn’t aimed at me; it was aimed solely at Beth.
My shoulders slumped in relief.
Beth looked between me and Maeve and then pointed at the door. “I’ll just...” Her voice trailed off.
“Probably for the best,” my wife agreed, moving beside me and threading her hand through my arm.
Beth’s face flushed redder, and she turned and fled.
My head swiveled toward Maeve, and my eyes lowered to lock with hers. “Sorry ‘bout that.”
To my shock, her eyes softened. “It’s okay. I was standing behind you, and I heard and saw it all. You didn’t do anything wrong.” She rolled up on her toes, kissed my cheek, and whispered, “You did everything right,” before rolling down again.
I cupped her face gently, my eyes darting between her cosmic-blues. “I just didn’t want to blindside you again, wife. I’m a dick, but I’m trying to do better.”
Maeve smiled. “I’m aware you have a past, Callum O’Shea; that was never my issue. I needed to know about Shannon and Saskia because they were around and the type to cause trouble,” she jerked her thumb toward the door, “whereas that one turned up out of nowhere, and you dealt with her. It’s all good.”
“So I’m not in the doghouse?” I asked.
“Well, you’re not out of the doghouse.” She gave me her cute little giggle-snort, and it felt like she’d given me the world. “Let’s just say it was a step in the right direction. I want you to know there’s nothing you can tell me that’ll make me hate you. I’ll always opt for honesty, even if it hurts. Don’t ever be scared to come to me with anything because as long as you haven’t gone out of your way to screw me over, I’ll always try to understand. Sometimes my emotions get the better of me, but once I go away and think things over, I’m quite rational.”
My lips twitched while the memory of her kicking me out flashed through my mind. “No shit, wife.”
She must’ve got me because she rolled her eyes. “That’s my point. It wouldn’t have come to this if you’d been honest.”
I chucked her cheek. “Yeah. I do know it, baby. Now, about that date.”
She flattened her lips to stop herself from laughing and promised, “I’ll think about it.” Her eyes widened excitedly. “Did you know Atlas made me a mix tape?”
“I did hear a rumor,” I told her in a droll tone.
“The idiot even put that Justin Bieber “Sorry” song on it.” She laughed out loud. “Can you believe Atlas, of all people, listening to Justin Bieber?”
I smiled at the light dancing in her eyes. I’d missed it and seeing it again made me feel warm. “You’re right, he’s a total idiot.” I gestured toward the bar. “You wanna drink?”
“You know how tipsy I get. Are you trying to get me drunk, Callum O’Shea?”
Errr yeah.
“No,” I denied. “Just have a cider. It’s New Year’s Eve. Let your hair down.”
She nodded her agreement, then pointed toward the table where the women and Tristan sat. “I’ll just go...”
I nodded, gave her a forehead kiss, and headed for the bar, where my boys were watching us with interest. After asking one of the waitresses to take a round of drinks over to the women, I leaned on the bar next to Bowie.
Atlas took a big gulp of cider. “I saw that Bethany chick show up. Now, there’s a blast from the past. Is Toots good? No fallout?”
“She’s cool. I gave Beth the brush off, and Maeve saw everything. Luckily, I saved my own ass.” I gave him a pointed look. “She mentioned your Justin Bieber mix tape. You’re the biggest fucking suck-up I’ve ever known.”
“It’s not strictly a Biebs mix,” Atlas informed me. “He just features on a couple of tracks.”
“Jesus, brother,” Cash spat out. “Fuckin’ Bieber? What are you? Fifteen?”
“Biebs got some good tunes,” the SAA muttered defensively. “Anyway, you listen to Dolly Parton.”
“Dolly’s hot, and she’s got some pipes on her,” Cash retorted.
“He’s gotta point,” Bowie interrupted. “She is hot.”
“Hmmm.” Atlas rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “She’s gorgeous, and the bitch has got some meat on her bones. I may put her on my ‘shouldn’t but would’ list. Had to take Kyle Richards and her girlfriend off, so it freed up some spaces.” His eyebrow cocked. “That’s a shitshow I don’t need in my bed.”
Cash rolled his eyes. “You know you’ll never fuck one celebrity on your ‘shouldn’t but would’ list, right?”
“What you should’ve said, Cashy boy, is that you’ll never fuck anyone on your ‘shouldn’t but would’ list,” Atlas corrected. “If I met any of the bitches on mine, I’d give ‘em the old Atlas charm. Mark my words, they wouldn’t be able to help ‘emselves.”
“Jesus,” Bowie muttered.
I let out a laugh, glancing over at the table where Maeve sat with the other women. An idea flashed through my mind, and I turned back to the boys. “Can you cover for me for five minutes? If Maeve asks where I am, tell her I’m in the restroom or something. I got something I need to do.”
“Nothing nefarious, I hope,” Bowie commented.
I grinned. “While Maeve’s out of the apartment and preoccupied, I can sneak upstairs and leave her a little gift.”
“If you need to shit, just go in the men’s room,” Atlas suggested, his lips twitching.
The boys snickered.
“Jesus fuck. It’s like dealing with ten-year-olds,” I mumbled to myself.
Atlas’s laughter died down, and he rubbed his hands together. “Right then, boys. Operation ‘Woo Toots’ is about to commence. Let’s drag our women onto the dance floor and make sure they don’t notice Callum doing his sneaky beaky act.”
“I don’t dance,” Bowie protested.
Atlas shoved him from his stool, making him go flying. “You do now.”
Bowie straightened to his full height and threw Atlas a glower. “Asshole.”
Atlas got to his feet and folded his arms across his chest. “Yip!” He nudged the dude standing beside him, who was shooting the shit with his friends. “Yo!”
The guy did a double take at Atlas, and his eyes widened slightly. “Me?” he asked, pointing inward at his chest.
“Yeah,” Atlas confirmed. He gestured toward the stools. “You and your buds sit there until we get back. No piss breaks, no shit breaks, and no dancin’. If one’a them stools has been lost by one’a you when I get back, I won’t be fuckin’ happy. You feel me?”
The poor guy gulped through his confusion. “Umm. Yeah?”
Atlas gave me a nod. “Go do your thing. I’ll sort Toots out.”
Swerving behind the bar, I grabbed my keys and the small package I’d been keeping there and headed out the back. Bounding up the stairs, I unlocked the door to the apartment and slipped inside.
Maeve had left the lamp in the hallway turned on, so the place was already bathed in dim light. Quickly, I made my way into the bedroom, immediately heading toward the bed, where I placed the package gently on the nightstand, along with the note I’d already scribbled out a few days ago.
I’d been thinking about what I could do to show Maeve that I’d listened and understood who she was and what she loved. I wanted to show her how I got the side of her that not many others did and how much I loved it just because it was a part of her.
And I wanted to grovel a bit, too.
Romance wasn’t something I understood, purely because I’d never had to. I was in my late thirties, and the only woman I’d ever bought flowers for was my mam. Although Maeve smelled of flowers and would probably love to receive some, it seemed a little too cliché. My wife was emotional and nerdy. She found joy in everything—old shit included—and made no apologies for it.
So, I tried to think outside the box.
And all I could do was take a leaf out of Mam’s book and pray to Mary, mother of Jesus that it worked.