I’d avoided her until Joe and Rebecca’s funeral. Maggie had seemed so different then. She’d matured in the years we’d spent apart. Oddly enough, she’d taken on more of Rebecca’s softer, more nurturing personality. Lately, she even looked more like her sister. Maggie had traded in her sexy skinny jeans and high heels for yoga pants and sneakers.
Since the funeral, it seemed like she’d focused all of her energy and determination on a single goal—being a surrogate mother and father to three grieving children.
As much as I hated to admit it, I missed the old Maggie. The girl with fire in her veins. The gorgeous, self-confident woman who wouldn’t let anyone or anything stop her from reaching her dreams. She was in there somewhere—all I had to do was draw her out.
Maggie’s phone rang.
She bolted upright and nearly broke my nose in the process. “Sorry. Are you okay?”
Pain bloomed in my face and my vision blurred. “I’ll live.”
She searched for her phone. “Where’s my cell? It could be about the kids.”
I plucked it from the nightstand and handed it to her.
“This better be good, Shanna. It’s five in the morning.” She listened a moment.
A garbled female voice came across the line, but I couldn’t make out what she’d said.
Maggie nodded several times and turned to me.
One word rang out loud and clear, “Marchionni.”
“Shanna, this isn’t funny.” Maggie’s brow furrowed and the color drained from her face. “He’s right here. I need to go.”
Her complexion changed from pale to angry red. “That was Shanna. She’s close with Dahlia, your brother’s friend. Would you mind telling me why half of New Orleans thinks we’re engaged?”
“Already?” Once again, my mouth got ahead of my brain.
“What do you mean already?” Maggie crawled out of the bed and paced. “What in the hell is going on? Why are you really here?”
My temples throbbed, along with my nose. “Slow down, Mags. Let me explain.”
“I don’t want to hear it. Put some freaking clothes on and get out.” She turned her back to me, but she couldn’t hide the fact she was crying.
“Maggie, I—”
“We have court in two days. Did your mother put you up to this?” She rounded on me.
“Not exactly.”
“What do you mean, not exactly?” Her voice had quieted several notches, but her anger bubbled beneath the surface. “How does anyone know anything about this? You just mentioned a ring last night. By the way, that was a piss-poor proposal, if that’s what you meant it to be.”
“It was. It is.” I eased closer to her. “I went to my folks when Ella’s mother—”
“This is bad. If the magazine finds out…” She hugged herself and bent at the waist.
“Sweetheart, you need to calm down.” I rested my hand between her shoulders.
Maggie stood upright, but her gaze flitted around the room. “What do your parents have to do with this?”
“You know how they are. I showed up with a baby. They insisted I get married.”
“To Ella’s mother, right? How did I get dragged into this?”
I dug my fingers into my temples. “That’s what I’m trying to explain.”
She pressed her lips together and nodded.
I sat on the edge of the bed. “You have to understand. You were the first person I thought about when I found out about Ella.”
She gave me a look.
“I swear on my grandmother’s grave.” I took her hand. “I always wanted kids, but I wanted them with you.”
She opened her mouth, likely to argue.
I put my finger to her full lips. “Let me finish. When my folks started in on the if you’re man enough to be a father, you’re man enough to marry the mother speech, I panicked. I told them I wouldn’t marry Chantal. My father…he knew how I felt about you before—”
“But we weren’t even speaking to each other, let alone a couple.”
But, sweetheart, I wanted to be. I wanted you every day of my life. “I know, but this is my father we’re talking about. He saw a means to an end and took it. He’ll take my bar if I don’t marry you.”
“Can he do that?” Her eyes widened.
“Yes. He can call the loan any time.” I sighed and took her hands in mine. “Maggie, think about it. We can make it work.”
She flinched as if I’d hit her. “What you said last night… This has nothing to do with how you feel about me. You’re trying to hold onto your bar.”
“I am, but didn’t you hear me when I said you were the first person I thought about?”
“I need you to leave.”
“We have to do this. They’ll take the kids from you if we don’t.” I regretted my words as soon as I’d said them.
Maggie’s mouth fell open. She turned and stormed out of the room.
I followed, taking her arm before she reached the kitchen. “Maggie, wait.”
She pulled away. “Don’t. I thought maybe you’d changed. It’s bad enough you’re using me, but to hold the kids over my head?”
“I’m not using you.” I took a step back to give her space. “This could be good for both of us.”
Maggie folded her arms. “Do you actually expect me to play along with this?”
“Hear me out. This isn’t about the bar. I’m going to lose it anyway.”
She turned her head.
“You’re struggling to make ends meet. You hate your job, and I bet you’d love to finish your novel. Maybe go back to grad school? I’m struggling with Ella. I have to give up a job I love and take one I may hate. My father told me to marry you or bring all four grandkids to my mother. They’re never going to stop fighting you for custody…but if we get married, they’ll back off.”
“What about Ella’s mother? What if she comes back?”
“Listen to me. Chantal made it clear she wants nothing to do with raising a child. She isn’t coming back and even if she did, it wouldn’t change anything.” My bluntness seemed to surprise her.
“You should’ve told me the truth from the beginning.”
“I know, and I’m sorry.” I struggled to find the right words, not wanting to piss her off even more. “But it could work. You could make rules. Think about it, Mags—no more worrying about bills, no more looking over your shoulder worrying about my mother.”
“Bullshit. She’d be even more in my business as my mother-in-law. Plus, I’m Catholic.”
“What?” It took my brain a minute to catch up to her. “So what? So am I.”
“We don’t do divorce.” Her voice softened.
I wanted to pull her into my arms and kiss her stupid. Maybe then she’d understand how much I loved her. “Catholics aren’t supposed to have premarital sex or use birth control either. Besides, I don’t plan to get divorced.”
Maggie’s brows climbed into her hairline. “Do you expect me to believe you actually want to marry me?”
I wanted to tell her I loved her, but doubted she’d believe me. I’d never felt so off my game. Running my hand over the back of my neck, I searched for the right words. The words that would make this beautiful creature understand.
Maggie turned, walked to her bedroom, and shut the door.
My nose ached to the point I could feel my heartbeat in my nostrils. I needed to ice it, but I followed her. “Dammit, Maggie. I know I’m screwing this up. Would you just listen?”
“Please, go. I need time to think before the boys come home.”
“No.” I searched the top of the door frame for the key and turned the lock.
She shot to her feet. “If you don’t get out, I’m going to call the police.”
“Do what you have to do, but they’ll take one look at my face and arrest you for domestic abuse.”
18
Maggie
He wouldn’t!
Gabe was a lot of things, but he wasn’t the kind of man who would allow
a woman to be arrested for something she didn’t do. Then again, I never thought he’d play with my feelings to save his precious bar or reputation or whatever he was doing here.
I shut my eyes because looking at him hurt, and I needed time to sort out my feelings before I said something I couldn’t take back. “Please leave.”
He closed the distance and pulled me against him. “Since you won’t listen, let me try a different tactic.”
“That’s the problem. You shouldn’t have to use tactics in a—” One moment I struggled to break free, the next his lips were on mine.
Pulling back enough to meet my gaze, he whispered, “Damn it, Maggie. I love you.”
I wanted to believe him. I needed to believe him. And I suppose, I did believe him. I loved him, too, and always had, but was that enough?
Gabe didn’t give me the chance to respond. He curled his fingers in my hair and yanked my head back.
I gasped. The moment my lips parted, he delved into my mouth. My body melted, but my brain revolted. I’d dreamed of this for four years—the same four years I’d spent sobbing into my pillow. Gabe’s kiss felt like home, but part of me wanted to run away and join the circus.
He pulled back and held my gaze. “Don’t overthink this.”
“What?”
He slid his hand beneath my sweats and grabbed my butt. Half-lifting and half-pressing, he ground his hips into mine.
“Oh, that.” I murmured against his lips.
Gabe released me, turned me around, and pressed his chest to my back. With one hand across my belly, he slipped the other under my shirt and cupped my breast.
This is happening. Oh God, this is happening now? “Gabe?”
“Hmm?” He nipped at my earlobe.
Between his fingers toying with my nipple and his cock pressed against my lower back, I thought I might climax before he touched me below the waist. “What are you doing?”
He licked the hollow behind my ear. “Trying to turn you on…”
I shivered and reached back to caress his hip. “It’s working.”
“Good.”
He felt as good as I’d remembered. In fact, he seemed to recall exactly how I liked to be touched and where.
Gabe tugged my sweats. “Take these off.”
I hesitated, and he pinched my nipple hard enough to elicit a yelp.
“Get out of your head.”
I slid my pants and boy shorts over my hips and kicked them off. I tried to turn to face him, but he held me in place.
“Not yet.”
Before I could protest, he distracted me by tracing slow circles down, down, down my body until he’d zeroed in on his target. One touch and I forgot how to breathe, two more and I thought I’d spontaneously combust.
“Like that, baby?”
“God, yes.” I arched my back and wiggled hoping he’d take the hint. “But I need more.”
He released my breast and turned my face toward his. “You’re so beautiful.”
I parted my lips, and he wasted no time in claiming my mouth. The awkward position made the kiss seem more erotic—our tongues struggling in the space between us. I tried to turn in his arms, but he broke the kiss and tightened his grip.
The pressure built inside me, and I knew it wouldn’t be long before I came. At lease I hoped it wouldn’t. It had been forever since I’d done this with another person. Four years since he’d turned me into a puddle. My belly trembled against his forearm. So close, so damned close.
He switched from circles to firm strokes, and my knees threatened to give out. “Let go, baby.”
“I can’t.” I hated the desperation in my voice, but I knew my body. The pleasure hung on the line between bliss and pain—too sensitive, too intense, too everything for me to let go.
Gabe turned me to face him and walked me backward to the bed. His gaze fixed on mine; he yanked his boxers down.
I wanted to tell him I’d missed him, that I’d thought about this, about him, about us, but he pressed a finger to my lips.
“If you talk, you’ll think, and you’ll second guess yourself.”
Grinning, I ran my tongue around the tip of his finger.
“Mags…” He slid his hands under my thighs. Bending me in two, he pressed his cock against my entrance. “Is this what you want?”
I nodded.
Cursing under his breath, Gabe released my legs. “Do you have a condom?”
Rather than speaking, I pointed toward the nightstand drawer.
“Good girl.” He rewarded me with a grin. The man enjoyed taking charge in the bedroom as much as I enjoyed surrendering.
A moment later, he poised himself over me again. This time he wasted no time asking questions. He drew both my thighs up and buried himself inside me in one quick stroke.
I saw stars; pleasure and pain mixed together into a strong cocktail that left me intoxicated.
Still sheathed inside me, he whispered, “More?”
I closed my eyes. “Yes.”
“Look at me, beautiful.” Gabe set a leisurely rhythm.
I watched the lines of his face sharpen with concentration. We’d had a lot of sex in our time together, and he’d rarely taken the slow and steady route. He had to be holding back for my benefit.
Lying half on top of me, he released one thigh and buried his face in my hair. “You feel so damned good.”
“Please…” I skimmed my nails down his back.
“Please what, baby?”
“Stop being so careful.” I thrust my hips against his.
He sucked in a breath and increased his speed. Once again, the pressure built inside me. I wrapped my legs around him tight enough to restrict his movement, but he seemed to take it as a challenge and thrust harder.
“Come for me.” Gabe growled into my ear.
I obeyed. My entire body shook with the force of the orgasm. Keenly aware we had a child upstairs, I bit the inside of my mouth to keep from crying out.
Before I could recover, Gabe pulled back and flipped me to my stomach. Tugging me to all fours, his fingers dug into my hips.
I grasped the sheets until my knuckles paled from the effort. Once again, I lost myself somewhere between pleasure and pain. I hadn’t felt so alive since we’d broken up.
Gabe slapped my ass hard enough to leave a handprint.
The shock of it sent me over the edge again, and he followed.
He collapsed beside me, but I couldn’t bring myself to move. I laid still with my arms folded beneath my chest and my hands balled under my chin. He caressed my back.
Smiling through the hair covering my face, I whispered, “Hi.”
“Hi.” He pulled me close and kissed my brow. “Did I hurt you?”
“A good kind of hurt.” I buried my face in his chest. “Gabe?”
“Hmm?” He eased back until he could see my face.
“Can we do that again when we don’t have any kids in the house?”
“Which part?”
“All of it.”
He chuckled and kissed me. “Yes, and often…on one condition…marry me.”
“I’ll think about it, but I need to sleep first.” I nuzzled against him.
“I love you, Maggie.”
“I love you, too.” If something went wrong, I’d blame this entire conversation on the post-orgasm hormones, but I did love him—and yes, I would marry him…one day.
19
Gabe
Wednesday morning, the alarm screamed at five forty-five. Exhausted, I reached to turn off the alarm and couldn’t find it. The realization that I’d slept in a strange bed woke me quicker than an ice bath. I smelled a familiar perfume and reached behind me to find a curvy hip—Maggie.
The way her sweet little body fit against mine made me smile, and the need to protect her overwhelmed me. She had a quiet strength about her, and a fragile heart I intended to nurture.
Maggie hadn’t accepted my proposal, but she hadn’t said no. She would be mine, she had to be—not
because of my parents or money or to win a custody battle—because we belonged together.
As much as I hated to leave her, I had shit to do. I eased out of bed doing my damnedest not to wake her, and grabbed my jeans.
Still buttoning my fly, I stepped into the hall and ran into Zach. The kid was thirteen. He had to know what happened behind closed doors.
“Morning.” I ran my hand over the back of my neck.
Zach coughed. “Yeah. Um. I need some cash for lunch.”
I went into my room, pulled two twenties from my wallet, and handed them to the kid.
“That’s enough for a month.” Zach gaped at the cash.
“Keep it. Take your girl out for ice cream after school.” I’d bribed the kid into silence, so what?
“She’s pretty great, huh?” Zach grinned.
“You tell me, I haven’t met her.”
He shook his head, seeming to enjoy having the upper hand. “No, I mean Maggie. She’s great.”
“Oh, yeah. She’s something special.”
Zach’s expression hardened. “Look, you hurt her and I’ll hurt you. I might be a kid and it might take years, but I will make you suffer.”
“I don’t intend to hurt her.” I clamped a hand on Zach’s boney shoulder. “Men take care of their women. Do you look after your sister like you look after Maggie?”
Zach shrugged. “I punched the kid down the street for making Chloe wreck her bike, but Maggie grounded me for a week.”
“Women don’t understand these things. Besides, a week in your room with your Xbox and computer? Big deal.”
“No man, she took all of it out, even the television.”
I chuckled. “Harsh, but your sister’s worth it.”
He nodded and followed me into the kitchen. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“Me too.” Inspiration struck me at the oddest times. I had an idea, a good one, but I’d need his help. “What do you think about playing a guitar accompaniment while your sister dances?”
Absinthe Minded: A Mafia Romantic Comedy (Bourbon Street Bad Boys' Club Book 1) Page 11
