Sweet on Peggy

by Stella MacLean

  When she was finished, Gayle’s eyes were moist. “I’m so sorry about all this. It sounds like the perfect date.”

  “It was until I completely messed it up,” Peggy lamented.

  “Why didn’t you say anything about your feelings? I mean, you might feel you couldn’t say you love him. I understand that. But why didn’t you tell him that you really care about him? Heavens! Everyone at work knows. Why not tell Rory?”

  Peggy sighed. Her first thought was to blame her mother. But was that the truth? “He took me by surprise. I thought we were on a date. I never expected him to say he loved me when we’d only been out a couple of times. Who confesses their love for someone so quickly?” Peggy cupped her face in her hands to hide the tears forming. “I’m afraid that he said he loved me the way most people would say they liked me. It felt too soon for me. It felt flippant and off-the-cuff, just like the day I told him about my biopsy.” She raised her head, looked from Gayle to Sherri.

  Sherri touched her arm. “You don’t trust him. You think he has ulterior motives for telling you he loved you. Oh, Peggy, honey, I’m so sorry that you could even think that way.” She put up her hand to ward off Peggy’s protest. “I suppose it’s possible that he did it for other reasons. But I don’t believe so. The man doesn’t seem the type.”

  “What will you think if I don’t hear from him again?”

  “Peggy, have you been looking for reasons not to become seriously involved with Rory?” Gayle asked.

  “What?” Peggy demanded. “I... No! Of course not. I want someone in my life. Someone who wants what I want.”

  “Meaning a man who wants to marry you, have a permanent relationship?” Sherri asked.

  Gayle’s eyebrows arched in question. “Don’t you see, Peggy? Rory might be that man. Sure, you feel his confession of love is too soon, and you say it felt flippant. What if it isn’t? What if he really loves you?”

  * * *

  THREE DAYS LATER Rory nearly hit his thumb when he hammered the last nail into the flower boxes, the last item on the list of carpentry tasks he’d been hired to do for his latest client. Slow down. You’re going to get hurt if you don’t watch it. He gathered up his tools, gave his invoice to the business owner and got into his truck. He was lucky he hadn’t caught his fingers in the door. Sitting alone in the cab, he couldn’t hide from the fact that he was still hurting over the date he’d had with Peggy. How could he have been so wrong? He was sure she cared about him. Maybe even loved him. He’d been shocked when she blew him off, acted as if his confession of love was no big deal. He’d been hurt and mortified.

  He started his truck and pulled out onto the street. He had to figure out what to do. He loved Peggy, and he was sure she cared about him. He tapped the steering wheel in frustration. But if she did, why hadn’t she said something? Was she afraid? Come to think of it, she looked a little anxious. Worried, maybe? Did she think he was the big bad wolf about to lure her to his bedroom?

  Was she still fixated on what had happened with Bill Cassidy? He’d been a little harsh with her at the end, all because his feelings were hurt. It wasn’t often that a man confessed his love and got silence in return. Was her silence her way of rejecting him, or had she not known what to say? He had, after all, confessed his love rather quickly. If someone had confessed their love to him, what would his response have been?

  The more he thought about it, the more convinced he was that Peggy didn’t mean to leave him hanging like that. She wasn’t the kind of woman who would be that cruel. He was on the highway, on the outskirts of Eden Harbor, when he spotted the turnoff to her place. Abruptly, he slammed on the brakes and swung the wheel. The blast of horn and squeal of tires from the car behind startled him. “Careful!” he said to the inside of the cab.

  Once on Peggy’s road, he drove more carefully. When he passed Ned Tompkins’s place, he waved, and Ned waved back. He was relieved to see Peggy’s car in her driveway. He suddenly realized he hadn’t thought about whether or not she’d be home. But, damn it, he had to find out what happened the other night. Either that or lose a finger on the next job. Thankfully, she was home. He slowed to make the turn into her driveway.

  Peggy was walking toward her house from the paddock, where Zeus stood next to the fence. She walked toward him unaware of how beautiful she was with her easy grace and gorgeous body tucked into a red plaid shirt and black jeans. She must have been out for a ride. He pulled to a stop and got out of the truck. “I was hoping I’d find you home,” he said, coming toward her, aching to put his arms around her and kiss her. He didn’t because of the wary look in her eyes.

  “It’s good to see you,” Peggy said, stopping a few feet from him.

  “You, too.”

  “Would you like to come in?” she asked, her tone a little anxious to his ears.

  Did she not want him here? Damn! Why hadn’t he called ahead? “Did I come at a bad time?”

  “Not at all.” She led the way into her house, moving quickly into the kitchen. Reaching the counter, she turned to face him. “Did you need to see me about something?” she asked, her voice so soft he was forced to lean closer.

  His thoughts raced. Why hadn’t he come up with an excuse on the way over? “I...I thought I should check. The night we had dinner at Neill’s house you said you needed me to do some work for you, something about the mortar on the stone out front.” He felt painfully awkward as he waited for her response.

  “Yes, that’s true, I do,” she said, her words rushed.

  Was she feeling a little awkward, as well? “Do you want me to take a look at it, price the work out for you?”

  “Yes... Not right now.” She looked up into his eyes, and he saw her anxiety.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  “I wanted to talk to you about the other night at your apartment. I behaved very badly.”

  He smiled in relief, his arms aching to reach for her. “I...I got it all wrong. I didn’t mean to scare you off.”

  She tucked her fingers into the belt loops on her jeans. “You’re not the only one who can’t seem to get it right. Maybe we should...” She met his gaze, her eyes dark with feeling. He opened his arms. She stepped into his embrace. He drank in her scent, her warmth and felt his heart lift in his chest. “We need to talk.”

  She lifted her face to his, her eyes searching his. “Yeah, we do.”

  He wanted to yell with pleasure. He settled for cupping her face in his hands and kissing her. She’d never tasted so good. His body hummed. He was thankful that his sudden decision had paid off in such a perfect way.

  “Let’s go into the living room, where we can be comfortable on the sofa.” She hugged him close as she walked with him into the next room.

  “I’m so glad I turned off the highway and headed here to see you. I made my decision so fast I earned a good blast of horn from the driver behind me,” he said, settling in beside her, forcing his arms to his sides. He wouldn’t hug her, his first urge. He needed a clear head for the next little while until they straightened out everything between them.

  “Running on impulse again, are you?” she said, a smile in her eyes as she hitched her legs up under her and hugged a pillow.

  “But see, it paid off. I found you at home, didn’t I?” he said, her smile giving him the first moments of happiness he’d had since he’d told her he loved her.

  “So, where should we start?” she asked.

  * * *

  PEGGY WAS OVERJOYED at the sight of Rory sitting on her sofa, so close she could smell his very male scent. He’d come straight from work to see her.

  “I’m sorry about the way I behaved when you said you loved me.”

  “No one has to behave a certain way. It should simply be a natural expression of feelings. You don’t love me. I get it.”

  She ached to say the words. To tell him how she really felt, but something held her back. “I care deeply about you. But I worry that it’s all too fast. We’ve only known each other for a few
weeks. We have so much to learn about each other, to share what really matters in our separate lives. How can you possibly know you love me? How can you be so sure?”

  His eyes held hers. The way he looked at her made her heart pound with happiness. “Peggy, for me, love isn’t something you work on. It’s something your heart does to you. Have you never been in love before?”

  “Love doesn’t come that easily for me,” she said, acutely aware that her words weren’t true. She loved this man. The problem was she feared risking everything should he not feel the same two weeks or two months from now.

  “Have you ever loved a man?” he insisted.

  She hugged the pillow tighter. “Most of the men I’ve dated weren’t really the kind I’d want to marry.”

  He reached for her hand, his fingers playing with hers. “That’s not what I asked.”

  If she tossed the pillow on the floor and moved only a few inches toward him, she could be nestled in his arms. She squeezed the pillow, torn between staying where she was and reaching out to him. His eyes told her he’d welcome any move she made toward him. Her pride held her back. “No. I’ve never loved a man.”

  “Other than your father, I assume.” He gave her an intense glance, making her feel very uncomfortable.

  Why did he have to bring her father into it? “My father was a very special man. And, yes, I loved him very much.”

  “So much that no other man ever measured up?”

  “No! I’m just not very lucky when it comes to finding a man with the right qualities.”

  He toyed with her hand, massaging the skin on the inside of her wrist, driving her crazy with need for him. “And what are these right qualities?”

  She calmed her breathing. “Honesty. Caring. Acceptance.”

  “All traits you saw in your father?”

  “Yes. I guess so.”

  He sighed deeply. “The same father that didn’t tell you that you weren’t his biological child. The same father who didn’t insist that your mother tell you about your biological father. The man who put his career first, ahead of any consideration of offering you a stable life in a community where you could form real attachments to real people.”

  “That’s not fair!” she cried. What was he doing? “I thought we were going to talk about us. I’m not going to sit here and listen to you attack my dad.”

  “I’m not. I’m right here waiting for you to see that I may not measure up to what you had in mind, but I want you.”

  She took a deep breath to calm the anger racing through her. “My dad loved my mom. He’d do anything for her. He’d do anything for me.”

  “Including not telling you the truth about his relationship to you.”

  Peggy was so angry she could hardly breathe. “What right have you got to come in here and say these things to me?” she demanded, pulling her hand from his and getting up from the sofa.

  Quickly he grabbed her hand, pulling her down beside him. Taking both her hands in his, he smiled a sad smile. “The right of a man who loves you, who wants a chance to prove it to you. But first, you have to face up to the fact that your dad wasn’t perfect. That he had flaws like every other man on the planet. That searching for a perfect man that meets all your criteria isn’t what life and being part of a relationship is about. Love simply is. Love is about needing another person more than you need anyone else in the world.” His voice softened. “That’s how I feel about you. I need you. I need you every day, in every part of my life.”

  Peggy met his heated gaze, her heart pounding in her chest. She wanted to be angry with him, to tell him to leave and never come back. She wanted to scream at him, to defend her father. “My dad was the best. I miss him.”

  “Of course you miss him. You always will. This isn’t about your dad. It’s about us and where we go from here.”

  As she gazed into his eyes and saw the love there, she realized that Rory was right. Her father should have put her need to know who her birth father was first. He should have convinced her mother to do the right thing and tell her all about Bill Cassidy. “He was a good man,” she insisted.

  “But he and your mother made a mistake in not telling you who your father was.”

  “Yes, they did. I needed to know about my birth father and his family. They kept it from me,” she conceded. “But I don’t believe Dad did it to hurt me. He did it because he thought it was the right thing to do.”

  “Regardless of his reasons, his actions have caused you pain and difficulty all these years,” he said, moving her into the crook of his arm and pulling her gently back against the sofa. “Your parents may have believed they were doing the right thing by keeping their secret to themselves. But now you know, and you have to accept what they did if you want to get on with your life.”

  “I have a life.”

  “Can you honestly say you’ve accepted things if you’re still angry at your mother? Forgiveness works both ways.” He smiled at her, intimacy and awareness making his eyes dark pools. “If you can forgive your mom, your life will be so much more rewarding.”

  She wanted to tell him to mind his own business. But the look in his eyes told her he really cared, wanted to help her and was waiting for her to consider what he said. “My mom hurt me, you’re right. As for my father, I can’t do this. I can’t behave as if he meant to hurt me.” She felt tears well up in her eyes. “I loved him. I’ll always love him.”

  “And so you should,” he said, his fingers massaging her shoulder, his breath gentle on her cheek. “You’ve had a lot to deal with lately. I meant my words to help you get past some of it. Let’s agree that what’s past is past. Let’s focus on the future—yours and mine.”

  “What does that mean? We hardly know each other. We can’t look forward to a future without knowing each other. Your words about what love is are probably true. I really can’t speak from experience. But I do know that a long-term, loving relationship is based on sharing things, getting to understand each other. My mom and dad shared everything. That’s why moving around with my dad’s work didn’t feel like a sacrifice. My parents were happy simply to be together. That’s the kind of marriage I want.”

  He smiled, kissed her cheeks, sending a tingling sensation along her jaw. “We’re talking marriage now, are we?”

  “Not so fast,” she said, turning in his arms to face him. He was so close. So touchable. She wanted to forget all her concerns, to simply let things unfold and see what happened next. She wanted to, but she couldn’t. “We have a lot of stuff to work out between us.”

  He snugged her body closer to his. “I’m not worried.”

  “And that would be because?” she asked.

  “You and I are meant to be together. You may not be able to tell me you love me right yet. But I promise you there will come a day when you will. And I’ll be there.”

  His eyes were deep pools of blue, the kind of eyes she could lose herself in...if only she dared. She kissed him, slowly at first, holding tight to him, feeling a connection to this impulsive, openhearted man she’d never felt before in her life.

  “Does this mean I’m staying the night?” he asked, running his hands down her body, lighting her desire for him.

  She wanted him. He wanted her. Yet something held her back. Aware of her need for him, for everything he offered, she reached up and touched his chin. “Rory, I’m not ready to do that just yet. For me, making love means commitment. When we make love, it has to be something we’re both committed to, not simply enjoyable sex.”

  He kissed her, slow and easy, with tenderness. “I guessed right the first time,” he said against her lips.

  “What do you mean?”

  “The minute I met you, I knew you weren’t the kind of woman who would settle for casual sex. You need commitment. I’m ready to offer you all the commitment you want. Wait and see. Your life’s about to change.”

  With that, he got up and pulled her up beside him. “Walk me out to my truck, where I will give you a chaste kiss
, and we will agree to meet ‘on the morrow,’” he said.

  She couldn’t help but laugh at him. “You are so not funny,” she chided, cuddling close to him as they walked together out to his truck.

  As she watched him drive away, it hit her. She wanted him to stay. She wanted him to make love to her. She wanted everything he offered, and she’d been a fool not to see that sooner.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  RORY HAD NEVER been happier in his entire life. He and Peggy talked the next morning before they went to work and agreed that he would go to her place later for dinner. He offered to drop by the local fish market and bring fresh fish.

  He worked like someone possessed, completing the steps Sam Paulson, a senior who lived alone in his own home since his wife passed away, had asked him to replace. As he put away his tools, Rory could hardly contain his excitement over seeing Peggy this evening.

  Sam had been watching Rory work while he talked about his life as a long-distance truck driver. “You got to have the fastest hammer in town,” the older gentleman joked as he paid him in cash. “Would you like to come in and have a glass of Scotch?”

  “Another time. Right now, I need to get back home. I’ve got something I need to do, and it can’t wait.”

  “You’re certainly in a hurry today. Saw you hammering as if the devil were chasing you,” Sam said, inspecting the new steps.

  Rory chuckled. “Got a lot on my mind.”

  “Something to do with a woman is my bet,” Sam said, eyeing him.

  “Not much gets past you.” Rory enjoyed the banter with the older man.

  “Women have been a constant preoccupation of mine. Had three wives just to prove the point.”

  “You did? Which one did you like the best?”

  “Can’t say just yet. Might marry again, you never know,” Sam replied, looking off toward downtown. “Life is filled with possibilities.”

  “Couldn’t agree more,” Rory said, putting the money in his wallet, gathering up his tools and heading for his truck. “Talk to you later,” he said, waving at Sam as he got into his truck.