Chapter 2
'Tea and Promises'
After weeks of dance classes and at-home practices sessions, Megan awakens to the sound of tapping. Mick waves through the etched-glass window panel next to her front door.
She hurries to greet him.
"I'm sorry I got here so late," he apologizes. "It's almost 11."
"It's all right." She yawns. "I was waiting for you." She gestures to the couch where she'd dozed off.
"And I woke you. I'm really sorry."
She brushes off his concern. "You look tired. How about some tea?"
"Sounds perfect." He picks up and folds the wooly blanket she was using and takes a seat on the couch.
"Bad day?" she asks, filling a kettle and moving the tea tray from the side counter to the front. Except for setting the water to boil, everything has been prepared ahead of time.
"Yeah. No. Not great, let's say."
"Mick, you could have called if you wanted to go straight home. It's okay; I wouldn't hold it against you. It's way too late to try to practice our dance steps." She smiles. "But it's good to see you."
She warms the porcelain teapot with a bit of boiling water and then fills it with more water and tea to steep.
The tray is set with a mug for Mick and a bone china cup and saucer for her, along with spoons, honey, lemon wedges and a sugar bowl. He grins when she places it on the coffee table.
"This is becoming a regular thing, huh? Dancing and tea, in no particular order."
She laughs. "Let me know when you want to change the routine."
"I like routine."
He glances away, and Megan has the feeling he doesn't want her to read his thoughts.
After adding honey and lemon for her, and honey, lemon and a big spoonful of sugar for him, they carefully sip the hot beverages.
"Do you want to talk about your day?" she asks.
"Uh, sure. It's boring business stuff. We usually don't have so many contracts that need renewing all at once. And when everyone wants to change the terms at the last minute, well, it kept my lawyer busy all day. Then I had to approve and sign the things, and I'm not happy about some of the changes."
She listens attentively.
"Thanks for asking." He nods.
"Thank you for sharing."
They glance away again, and Megan knows they're both remembering the Mick who never used to talk about the details of his workday – good or bad.
"So, how was your day?" Mick counters, studying her expression. "It had to be better than mine!"
"I had contract negotiations, same as you," she says with a frustrated tone. "About the upcoming art installations."
"Not you, too?" he laughs. "Shakespeare was right: 'Let's kill all the lawyers.'"
She smiles. "They say Shakespeare was actually saying the opposite. But today, I agree with you. Except we'll spare our son," she teases.
"Of course!"
As they drink their tea in companionable silence, Megan notices that Mick is flexing his shoulders.
"Is your back bothering you again?"
"Yeah. You know where I get tense."
She sets down her cup and saucer and plucks the mug out of his hands.
"Sit up and turn around," she commands.
"You don't have to …" he begins.
"Hush," she says, putting her hands to work kneading the muscles in his upper back. "Wow, you're tight clear up into your neck. Undo a couple of your buttons for me."
He obeys, and she opens his collar wide, pressing her thumbs into the knot at the base of his neck. When she feels him begin to relax, she continues slowly massaging his upper back, shoulders and mid-back.
He exhales deeply and moves to face her, tugging on the front of his shirt to seat the collar close against his neck.
He doesn't button it, and Megan's eyes are drawn to his exposed chest. Memories of the warmth of his skin and the strength of his embrace threaten her composure.
"Your turn," he says.
"My …?"
He twirls his finger for her to spin around so he can return the favor.
"Mick …"
"You had a rough day, too."
"Mmm hmm," she agrees, concerned that the rhythm of his touch and her softly streaming music may lull her back to sleep.
"You really like love songs, don't you," he says of the selections.
"Aren't most songs love songs?"
"I suppose. But you like them because you're a romantic."
She turns her head and shoots him a look.
"Don't get me wrong, I like romantics."
"Says the non-romantic," she laughs. "Oh, that feels good."
"Romantics have excellent qualities," he continues, focusing on a tight spot between her shoulders. "They're hopeful, positive people, always looking for the best. They love deeply, and it takes a lot to dash their dreams. Unfortunately, we 'practicals' run around like bulls in a china shop, dashing dreams as part of a day's work."
"You practicals aren't all bad." She looks over her shoulder, and into his eyes.
"Turn around," he admonishes softly, gently guiding her and avoiding her gaze. "You'll feel a draft for a minute," he warns.
He carefully slides her dress zipper down a few inches so he can follow her example and massage the base of her neck.
She tries to relax, but his familiar touch is making her all too aware of him.
"Trust me, I know my faults," he continues. "Practicals are about the conquest. We fall in love hard, and when we make a match, our sole focus is providing for our loved ones – safety, shelter, necessities, luxuries, even. Our time is a commodity, and we spend it hunting down and gathering everything our families need, or what we think they need."
She turns and directs a sympathetic look at him, and he awkwardly zips her up.
"Our tea's getting cold," he redirects the conversation.
She refreshes their cups from the warm pot, adding lemons and their preferred sweeteners.
"Tell me more about the kind of man you are." She leans back against the couch cushions, cup in hand, waiting for him to continue.
"Well, uh, practicals can oblivious, as you know. Requests, warnings, threats – a two-by-four to the back of the head – nothing can sway us from a course we're convinced is right. And when we turn out to be wrong, we may find that everything we loved has disappeared."
She sighs. "That is one sad bedtime story."
"No kidding! Even sadder is that it's our story."
"And our kids paid for our mistakes," she says with regret. "By the way, what do they have to say about you coming here every night?"
"Four of them have no opinion."
"And what does our beautiful youngest daughter say?" She sets down her cup, leaning toward him in anticipation.
"Darlin', you don't want to know. I'm sorry I said anything." Mick places his mug on the table, his expression serious.
"That bad? Now you have to tell me. Because if she's said it to you, she'll say it to me soon enough. At least give me a heads-up."
"Okay. I'm sorry, it's gonna hurt." He takes his ex-wife's hand. "She says that I'm still in love with you, and that you're a spider luring me into your web."
Megan gasps.
"She didn't mean it. You know how Jess is; everything's over-dramatic. Besides, she's half right."
"You think I'm a …!"
"No, the other thing," he confesses, holding her hand tightly.
"Nooo, you don't," she whispers, but she can't mask the look of affection in her eyes, or miss the same look in his. "All these love songs and the lack of sleep are messing with your emotions."
"Oh! That explains it," he teases. "But that would make me a romantic, and we know I'm not one of those."
"So, Mr. Practical, what makes you think you're – what Jess said?" She bites her lip, awaiting his answer.
"I figured I might be when I'd come over to practice our dancing, and you made every terrible day better, and every good day became, well, perfect – all because I was with you. And through the day until I got here each night, I looked forward to holding you, uh, you know, when we danced. And the tea. You make a mean cup of tea." He winks.
After a few seconds of stunned silence, she says, "I almost believe you. I mean, I believe you think you might be."
"That's not quite the response I expected," he says with a little irritation.
"You're a charmer, Mick O'Brien," she whispers, touching his cheek. "Every time I look into your eyes, I'm convinced I never stopped loving you. But we have a lot more to lose if we get it wrong this time."
"Our kids are all grown up," he reasons.
"And some of them are just beginning to trust us. I don't know if we can risk it."
"Now who's being practical?" He runs a finger slowly down her cheek. "Well, it's almost midnight. If you won't tell me you love me, how about a goodnight kiss before I go?"
She smiles. "Any man who'd come over and dance with me every night – for a month – would have gotten a kiss by now. So why not?"
They stand, and she suddenly recognizes the opening notes of a familiar song.
"I know it's late, but dance with me first," she says, as The Beatles' "In My Life" begins to play.
She turns up the volume with a remote control sitting on the arm of the couch.
"I love this song." She moves her arms around his neck in a slow-dance position. "It makes me think about you. How I feel about you."
"I hope that's a good thing," he says, his large hands sliding intimately around her waist. "I know the song, but I don't remember the words."
"Listen."
… There is no one compares with you.
His eyes widen, and he starts to smile.
… In my life, I love you more.
"So you won't say the words."
"No," she says.
"But you'll kiss me?"
"Yes."
"That's good enough!"
His lips meet hers tentatively at first, then firmly, as she instantly responds.
Breathless, she whispers, "There's still a spark."
"More like an atomic bomb," he says, his breath warm and tantalizing against her neck.
"That could be dangerous." She closes her eyes and delights in his familiar yet exciting presence, and the way he remembers what she wants. What she needs.
"Oh, it is." He kisses her again. "But O'Briens never run from danger."
"And if we do, we regret it the rest of our lives," she says with a catch in her throat. "I have so many regrets, Mick."
"Our lives aren't over. My mission is to make every day our best ever, from now on. That's why I've been here every day since the Art Walk."
"Your 'mission?' I want that in writing!"
"I'd give you a contract, but we just killed all the lawyers."
They laugh.
"Mick, I …"
"Shhh." He stops her with a kiss. "I know you do."
.
See Chapter Three
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If you love Mick and Megan as much as I do, be sure to check out my other stories:
NEW Hallmark's Chesapeake Shores Mick and Megan O'Brien, Fear of Flying
Hallmark's Chesapeake Shores Mick and Megan O'Brien, The One That I Want
Hallmark's Chesapeake Shores Mick and Megan O'Brien, Where the Wind Blows
Hallmark's Chesapeake Shores Mick and Megan O'Brien, Once a Promise
Hallmark's Chesapeake Shores Mick and Megan O'Brien, Mother of the Bride, 2 chapters
Hallmark's Chesapeake Shores Mick and Megan O'Brien, Love Song
Hallmark's Chesapeake Shores Mick and Megan O'Brien, First Kiss
The Hallmark Channel's 'Chesapeake Shores' — Mick & Megan O'Brien, 9 chapters
Chesapeake Shores — Megan at the Met — Mick and Megan O'Brien, 6 chapters
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Annette Zoaps