Free Maggie's Five ...the first in a LOVE story by Sandra Fitzgerald Page A

face, taking me in. “Yes
Maggie Mae, we share a roof.” He runs his hand through my wavy red
hair and gently fits some strays behind my ear. “Have you had
enough or do you want another?”
    I can’t help
wanting more when he’s being tender like this. More of his strength
and warmth and… rightness.
    “ One
more?” I ask, pulling on his shirt and squeezing my legs against
his waist to keep him close. When he doesn’t answer, I look up to
see him watching me playing with the tight fabric around his waist,
and feel his abs contract when my fingers catch on the waist band
of his jeans. Everything stills and calms. We’ve created a bubble I
could very easily get comfortable in.
    “ I’ll
have a Guinness,” Luke tells Red. Smiling gently when he finds my
eyes on his face, he takes my hips into his strong hands, coaxes me
forward and lifts me off the bar. My legs and arms automatically
wrap around him and my head rests on his chest as he carries me to
a table without another word. I’m pretty sure if I were a cat, I’d
be purring right now.
    He noisily drags
out a chair and carefully sits me on the seat. “What would you like
to drink, Maggie?”
    Umm, my head is
swimming after the shots and now another drink doesn’t hold the
same appeal, so I shrug instead of answering him.
    “ Are
you hungry Maggie Mae?” Luke asks, not reacting to my non-answer
and settling on the seat by me. He takes a menu from the holder on
the table. “I could use something to eat.”
    “ I
can eat,” I smile, grateful for the idea, but not certain if food’s
going to settle well with all the liquid floating around in my
stomach.
    Red sits a large
glass of dark foaming liquid in front of Luke and a glass of wine
in front of me. As he’s about to turn, Luke asks him to bring us
food - reading off the menu and double checking his selections are
okay with me first.
    It’s lucky,
because I was about to get a tad miffed with him and I would hate
to have to get out the big guns and go all bad-arse on him in
public… because I could, you know. I’m pretty bad-arse when I want
to be.
     
    THE DAY AFTER my
hangover the courier arrives as promised, in the afternoon so I
could get to all of my non-existent errands done in the morning.
Brendan’s things are wrapped and boxed to perfection for safe
delivery. I distractedly wonder while Luke and I stacked them in a
corner of Brendan’s study - who was the lucky person to get the
honour of cleaning out his office and if they took their time and
cared for the things that were removed as quickly as Brendan
was.
    I somehow
managed to hold a conversation around my throbbing temples with
Jon. We covered all the obligatory topics: ‘How are you?’ , ‘Keeping on top of things?’ , ‘Parents well?’ and so
on and so on. When we had exhausted the menial, Jon started
floundering, telling me all about the weather and the unusual winds
we’ve been having. That’s when I knew something was up.
    Over discussing
turbulent gusts, I braced myself and told him to, “Just spit it
out, Jon.”
    “ It’s
a notional magazine Maggie. I can’t say no.” Oh, he’s been offered
a contract. A big one by the sounds of it.
    “ That’s fantastic Jon.”
    It’s not a
complete lie.
    “ No,
I mean - yeah, it is, but it’s abroad Maggie Mae. I don’t know how
long I’m going to be gone.”
    And you don’t
think I can take care of myself.
    “ Don’t be ridiculous. It’s your job and you’re great at it.
Go, have fun. Just remember the little people when you’re all rich
and famous okay?”
    Jon’s good at
what he does. Really good. A house full of awards proves it. As far
as the ‘rich and famous’ goes… he’s held a lot of shows that have
attracted a lot of people, so I guess he’s on his way there, if he
isn’t already. It’s hard to tell with him. He’s boisterous and
attention seeking, except when it comes to his work.
    After a few more
minutes of to-ing and fro-ing, we finished up