Page 40 of Nick: His to Claim

Nick had burst out laughing and pulled her into his arms, kissing her adorable face. Very carefully he explained to her that he fully intended to be the head of his family, and that maybeshecould try staying out of trouble if she really wasn’t fond of spankings. Maggie had sighed and rested her head against his chest. For some reason, she didn’t think there was much hope forthatplan, she’d told him sadly.

It wasn’t long before the wine got the best of her. Nick cleaned her up and carried her up to bed, tucking her in gently. He’d done what he could with the carpet, but if a professional cleaner couldn’t get the stain out, it would have to be replaced. When he was sure Maggie was going to be all right alone, he tossed his sneakers in the trash, locked up the house, and drove home barefoot and smiling all the way. He was still grinning like a fool when Monica buzzed him to let him know his next appointment was here.

* * *

Maggie wasn’t having such a good day. She awoke when the alarm went off at seven to a jackhammer in her head, and it had gone downhill from there.

Coffee didn’t help, and there was no way anything solid was getting past her lips. Feeling weak and shaky, she avoided as much conversation as she could; even the sound of her own voice was annoying. She tried to remember what had happened last night but wasn’t having much luck. Bits and pieces maybe, but large gaps were missing. She groaned when she saw the wine stain on the carpet and vaguely remembered puking on Nick. Poor man, she thought, cringing in embarrassment.

So far she’d been lucky enough to avoid Mason all morning, but Rory had called her cell three times. She knew he was just trying to prove a point, but she couldn’t take it, not today. The fourth time it rang around one o’clock, she fumbled it out of her pocket, pissed to the max.

Her hands were shaking as she tried to open the damn thing, and before she knew it, she lost her grip and it flew out of her hands and into freshly poured concrete. Maggie made a mad dive to catch it and failed, losing her balance in the process. The only thing that saved her from falling face first into the same mess was Mason’s hand grabbing the waist of her jeans at the very last second. For a moment she hung there, suspended in mid-air, before he slid his other arm around the front of her waist and set her back on her feet.

“That your cell?” he asked with a twinkle in his eye.

“Yes,” she hissed between her teeth. Unbelievably, the damn thing was half buried now and still ringing.

“Do you want to use mine?” he asked, reaching into his pocket and pulling it out.

“No thank you,” she informed him, picking up her hard hat and pushing her hair back from her face.

The phone went blessedly silent for a moment, but before she could draw a breath of relief it began ringing again.

“Are you sure?” Mason asked. “Whoever it is seems pretty persistent.”

“He is, and he can just kiss my ass,” Maggie growled. Her head hurt, her stomach hurt, and right this minute she felt like marching into that concrete and jumping up and down on the damn thing.

“Nick?”

“Rory,” Maggie replied.

“Ah, Detective O’Malley. What’s he up to these days?”

“Driving me crazy,” she replied in frustration. “Look, Mason, maybe I’d better use your phone if you don’t mind.” The very last thing she needed today was Rory breathing down her neck. Rory didn’t make idle threats.

Mason handed over his phone, and Maggie quickly dialed the station.

“He was here a minute ago,” the Desk Sergeant informed her, “but he just went flying out the door. I don’t know when he’ll be back. Can I take a message?”

“No thanks,” she answered. “It’s probably too late anyway.” Maggie handed the phone back with obviously shaking hands.

“Mason, do you have a gun?” she asked, swaying slightly, her stomach roiling.

To say Mason was shocked would be putting it mildly, but he answered truthfully.

“Yes, I have several, but not on me. Why?”

“Because I’m pretty sure that Rory is on his way here, and after he talks to you, you’re going to want to kill me,” she told him weakly.

Mason put his arm around her trembling body and led her gently towards the field office.

“No guns. Too messy,” he informed her smiling. “Besides I don’t think my brother would be too happy with me if I shot you.”

“Think of it as a mercy killing,” she told him, sighing with relief as he steered her into the cool office and seated her on the couch. “I’m half dead already,” she continued as she pulled off her boots to lie down.

Mason could see that despite her smart mouth, she really wasn’t feeling well. Going into the rest room he returned with a cool, wet cloth and laid it across her eyes.

“I shall be forever indebted to you, sir,” she drawled weakly.