“Can I help it if women can’t resist my magnetism?” Dusty quipped in response to whatever Maggie’s last warning had been.
Oh, well. Tess supposed everyone had secrets and chose carefully the people they trusted to keep them. Dusty kept Tess’s. It seemed only fair for Tess to keep Dusty’s.
“What’s wrong with her, anyway?” Dusty asked. She shrugged her jacket off and tossed it across the end of the island where Tess worked.
Maggie shot Dusty a stern look. “Nothin’s wrong with her. She’s just a bit confused and needs some time to sort things out.”
“Confused about what?” Dusty rested her elbows on the tiled surface next to Tess.
Tess inhaled the citrus aroma of the shampoo Dusty used. She coaxed her focus back to the mozzarella.
“That’s none of your concern. You just do what I ask.” As though finished with the conversation, Maggie walked to the pantry and began collecting cans of tomato sauce.
“Aw, c’mon. How come I can’t know?” Dusty cast a sideways glance at Tess. “I’ll bet Tess knows.”
Amused by Dusty’s ploy, Tess stifled a smile. The last place she wanted to be was between these two women on this topic.
“How come she gets to know and I don’t?” Dusty asked.
“Because she’s a sincere, caring person who might be able to offer Eve some insight,” Maggie said with exaggerated enunciation.
Dusty straightened and planted her hands on her hips. “I care,” she said. “I have things to offer, too, you know.”
“Of course you do, darlin’, and if we ever need someone to take Eve for a motorcycle ride or get her so bloody drunk she can’t see straight, you’ll be the first person we call.” Maggie’s words were sarcastic, but her gaze held a glint of fondness.
Dusty considered her for a long moment before she turned to Tess with apparent deliberation. She sidled close and slipped her arm around Tess’s waist. “Will you tell me what’s wrong with her?” she whispered. Her warm breath caressed Tess’s ear.
Tess hid her small intake of air with a laugh and turned to look into Dusty’s pleading, dark blue eyes. “Not if you strung me up on the hanging tree and let the birds peck at my flesh.”
“Whoa.” Dusty’s eyes widened. “That literature stuff can really warp your mind, can’t it? I was just thinking of plying you with chocolate.”
Tess chuckled. She slid the last bit of cheese between Dusty’s lips. “That won’t work, either. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll do as Maggie says.” She looked up to find Maggie watching with a loving smile. Tess eased back. She gave Dusty a playful shove and pushed her away.
“Okay, fine. You two just keep your little secrets. See if I care. And next time I have one, I won’t tell you, either.” She slouched against the counter again and munched on her cheese.
Tess and Maggie laughed.
“Now that that’s settled…” Maggie said.
Dusty glared at Tess.
“There’s the bathroom.” Maggie stirred the noodles again.
“Oh, God, not the bathroom.” Dusty buried her face in her hands. “I’ll try to keep it cleaner, or I’ll open the window, or I’ll turn the shampoo upside down, or right side up, or I’ll balance it on my nose. Whatever anybody wants.”
The front door creaked, and Baxter took off at a vigilant trot.
“All I was goin’ to say,” Maggie continued, “is to be sure to give Eve her privacy in there.”
Dusty looked up. “I’m not a peeper, you know.”
Maggie chuckled. “I don’t think you are, luv. I’m simply askin’ you to be aware that there might be someone else in there. You’ve had it to yourself for a bit now, with Della gone.”
“Not really,” Dusty grumbled and rolled her eyes. “I didn’t even know I had my own bathroom till this morning. Which brings up another point—”
“Hey, everybody.” Addison stood in the kitchen doorway, holding a bag that read Panda Palace on the side. “I brought Chinese food. Anyone interested?” She grinned at Maggie.
Maggie stared back with a stunned expression. Then irritation settled into her features. “Tess and I’ve been makin’ lasagna for the past half hour.”
Addison’s smile faded. Her gaze traveled to the stovetop, to the counter, and finally to the baking dish awaiting the layers of ingredients. She turned back to Maggie, an odd mixture of remorse and hope mingling in her eyes. “Well, it’s not done yet.” She faltered slightly. “Could we save it for tomorrow?”
Tess glanced at Maggie. At this point, it would take just as much work to prepare the dish for storage as for eating.
Maggie still stood watching Addison with obvious bewilderment. “Do you think we could save the Chinese for tomorrow?”
“Really, Addison,” Dusty said. “They’ve been working hard on dinner. Besides, I love their lasagna.”
Annoyance replaced any other emotion showing in Addison’s face, and she walked to the breakfast nook. “Whatever.” She dropped the bag onto the table.
Dusty looked back and forth between Maggie and Addison. “Hey, you know, if you’d called, it might have helped.”
“Shut up, Dusty.” Addison tossed her keys down beside the food.
Dusty raised her hands as if in surrender. “Sorry. Just making a point.” She grabbed her jacket and helmet and headed out the door.
Maggie frowned. She removed the pasta from the burner. “That was a bit uncalled for, don’t you think?” she asked Addison.
“It’s none of her business.”
“She made the exact point I was thinkin’. Is it my business?”
Addison stiffened and turned to face Maggie. “I just wanted to surprise you.” She glanced at Tess. “But you’re right. I should’ve called. Maybe you could’ve penciled it in.” She pivoted and stalked from the room.
Tess pursed her lips. “What was that about?”
Maggie shook her head. She eyed the empty doorway, concern creasing her brow. “I don’t know what the problem is lately. She’s beginnin’ to act so different. She’s been distant, moody…never like this, though.” She shifted her gaze to Tess. “But I can’t get her to talk.”
“What does she say when you ask her about it?”
Maggie sighed. “She’s busy at work. She hasn’t been sleepin’ well. She loves me, and I shouldn’t worry.”
Tess bit her lower lip. “I’ll finish things down here. Why don’t you go up and try to talk to her? Take the Chinese food and see if you can work out whatever’s wrong.”
“What?” Maggie asked in evident disbelief. “And reward her for this little display?”
“Maggie, she isn’t Baxter. You don’t reward her when she sits on command and discipline her when she doesn’t.” Tess took Maggie’s hand. “She’s your partner, your lover. And I think she needs you.”
Maggie softened and looked into Tess’s eyes, uncertainty and maybe even a little fear clouding her normally confident air. Her gaze drifted as if following a thought. “Maybe you’re right,” she said gently. “You don’t mind bein’ left with all this mess?”
“Not a bit. You go. Take care of your sweetie.”
“Thank you, darlin’.” Maggie patted Tess’s arm and retrieved the takeout food. She took a deep breath and started toward the hall. “Oh,” she said, coming to a halt. “And you’ll feed Dusty?”
Tess laughed. “Of course, I’ll feed Dusty.”
“And Baxter?”
Tess glanced at the dog. “And Baxter.” She winked at him. “I’ll feed them both lasagna.”
Chapter Five
Maggie drifted from a deep, dreamless sleep to an awareness of rustling ivy on the hillside behind the house and the gurgling of the fountain in the backyard below. A cool morning breeze wisped through the open window and played across her cheek. Eyes still closed, she absorbed the caress of Addison’s bare skin pressed against her own.
Spooned behind her, Addison held her in a gentle embrace.
Maggie released a
peaceful sigh and snuggled deeper between the satin sheets. She took Addison’s hand and brought it to her lips. She kissed the fingers still redolent with traces of the previous night’s lovemaking—if that is what it had been. Whatever it had been, it had stolen Maggie’s breath.
She had come upstairs after the disagreement in the kitchen to find Addison sitting on the far side of their king-sized brass bed, staring into space. The last rays of late afternoon sunlight poured through the large window at the opposite end of the room, intensifying the brilliant colors of the Georgia O’Keefe paintings that graced the subtly textured walls. The decor presented a stark contrast to Addison’s somber portrait.
Maggie eased the door closed behind her.
Addison remained silent, motionless, obviously carried far away by her thoughts. She looked incredibly sad, the corners of her mouth drooped with a frown.
Regret swelled in Maggie’s heart. Hurting Addison always affected her deeply. From their very first argument when they were dating so many years ago, she hadn’t been able to stand the thought that something she had done had brought this beautiful woman pain. It was one of the ways Maggie had known this relationship was different, that Addison was the one with whom she wanted to spend the rest of her life. All earlier irritation faded. Addison had only been trying to be thoughtful. Maggie knew that. “Would you still like to have Chinese?” she asked apologetically.
Addison didn’t respond. She appeared not to have heard the question. Then, slowly, she turned her head, her gaze still distant. As her eyes began to focus, confusion showed in their depths. “Maggie,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. She seemed surprised, not that someone was there, but at the fact that it was Maggie.
“Were you expectin’ someone else, luv?” Maggie smiled.
“No.” Addison’s tone strengthened. She looked away. “Of course not. But I wasn’t expecting you, either.”
Maggie studied her. She felt the wall go up between them, the same barrier that had been separating them for the past couple of months whenever Maggie tried to get Addison to talk about what was bothering her. Maggie set the bag of takeout food on the Indian rug beside the bed and lowered herself onto the mattress. “Don’t I always come to you after we’ve quarreled?”
“Always?”
Maggie reconsidered. There had been times when her temper had bested her. “All right then, usually?” She moved further onto the ivory satin comforter. She brushed several strands of hair from Addison’s forehead. “I’m sorry I was cross. I’m sorry I hurt your feelin’s.”
Addison pursed her lips and leaned into Maggie’s touch. “I’m sorry I didn’t call.”
Tension continued to pulse between them. Apologies said, they both seemed to know that dinner wasn’t the issue.
“Dawtie, tell me what’s wrong,” Maggie whispered. She stroked Addison’s cheek. “You’ve been so far away these days.”
Addison squeezed her eyes shut and inhaled deeply. “I don’t know,” she said, her words slightly choked. “I don’t know anything.”
Maggie felt one stone in the wall crumble. At least Addison was no longer denying there was a problem. She took her face between her palms. “Talk to me, luv. We can figure it out together.” She eased closer.
Addison’s eyelids fluttered open, her lashes moist with the beginnings of tears. She looked like a lost child in a supermarket, afraid and alone. She grasped Maggie’s hands. “I need you.”
“I’m right here, dawtie. Tell me what you need.”
Addison answered with a kiss. She grazed her lips across Maggie’s gently. Then something shifted. She twined her fingers into the thickness of Maggie’s hair and pulled her against her, her grip firm, her mouth insistent.
Startled, Maggie gasped. She tried to draw back.
Addison held her tightly, passionate, demanding. It had been a long time since they had kissed this way.
Maggie’s body began to respond. She surrendered to Addison’s hold, merged with her desire. Slipping her arms around Addison’s neck, she molded to her and returned the fervent kiss.
Addison moaned and lowered her to the bed. She pressed her full weight down on Maggie. Her breathing quickened. She tore her mouth from Maggie’s and gazed down at her. No trace of that frightened child remained, no sign of confusion. Though she still wasn’t talking, at least Maggie knew what she needed, and it was something she could give.
Addison stirred behind her, bringing Maggie back to the serenity of the morning.
Memories of lust and passion lingered in her body and mind. She remembered Addison’s eager hands, her searching mouth, her probing fingers, her thrusting hips. Maggie had yielded to them all, her own excitement heightening to match the intensity of Addison’s hunger. They had continued late into the night, the waves of their arousal cresting over and over again until, finally satiated, they drifted into tranquil sleep.
It had been like years ago, when their attraction to one another had seemed like the only thing that existed, when each other’s bodies had been uncharted, unexplored. It had almost seemed as though Addison had been somebody new, somebody different—or perhaps as if she had seen Maggie as such.
An unsettling ripple wormed its way through Maggie’s mind. She opened her eyes. She turned over in Addison’s arms and gazed into her unguarded features. She touched the soft lips that had been so bruising the night before.
The corners of Addison’s mouth lifted in sleep.
Maggie tensed. What was she dreaming this morning? What had she been thinking while they made love? Was she fantasizing about someone else? Maggie recalled Addison’s growing interest in Dusty’s sexual exploits. She wondered if it held any meaning. She had wondered about it before.
Was Addison beginning to wander? Was she restless in their relationship? Were the things that brought Maggie comfort and security causing her partner boredom and suffocation?
These were all questions Maggie had brought up in the beginning, issues about which she’d had reservations. The thirteen-year age difference between them had been cause for concern. The difference in their backgrounds raised some doubts. Maggie also wondered, though, if her suspicions and fears sprang from her own breakup with Julia so many years ago, and any residual guilt she felt. These were all the same points that had caused her concern, at the age of twenty-two, about committing to a relationship with someone older. She’d always known the importance of experimenting, of playing the field, and she hadn’t wanted to take that away from Addison. But Addison had convinced her, and it had been a wonderful twelve years. So why was she doubting now?’
“Such a worried face for so early in the morning. Something wrong?”
Addison’s quiet voice startled Maggie back to the moment. She looked into Addison’s still-sleepy features and considered the affection in her gaze, the familiarity in her expression. The stranger from last night was gone—or had she ever been there? Maggie smiled. “What could possibly be wrong?”
“Mmm.” Addison tightened her embrace and snuggled closer. “Not a thing. You’re incredible.”
Maggie laughed. “I’m incredible? No, we’re incredible.” She trailed her fingertip down Addison’s neck and along her collarbone. “Last night reminded me of the way we used to be.”
Addison blinked. “What? You mean we’ve done that before?”
“Mm-hm.” Maggie chuckled. “When we were young and wild. It’s been a long time.”
Addison settled back onto the pillow. Her manner grew serious. “It’s been too long, Maggie. I miss it.”
“You’ve thought about it?” Maggie searched Addison’s face. If the problem was as simple as this, why had she not merely said so? “Before last night?”
Addison hesitated. Her gaze left Maggie’s. “I met a woman.”
Maggie’s stomach clenched. Her throat closed. She had feared this for years, and yet, she was still unprepared.
“You know, Michael’s client? The one I met with yesterday?”
Yesterd
ay? All this had happened yesterday? She nodded.
“She asked me about our relationship.” Something flickered across Addison’s face—thoughts not followed, words unspoken—then vanished.
Maggie waited.
“She asked how we’d made it last for so long. She said she didn’t have anybody special because she works so much. It just got me thinking. I do have somebody special. Somebody very special.” Addison returned her focus to Maggie. “And I take it for granted.”
“Take it for granted?” Maggie was stunned. She mentally had Addison, the woman she loved more than anyone else in the world, being unfaithful, wandering off, and Addison was simply worried about taking their relationship for granted? Maggie felt foolish, but more than that, she felt guilty.
“It just seems like we put everything else first,” Addison said. “Work, the house, our tenants, your hospice patients. Even our friends. You and me kind of get lost in it all. I don’t want to lose you, Maggie.”
Maggie raised up on her elbow and searched Addison’s expression. She saw uncertainty, remorse. Love streamed through her. “You’re never goin’ to lose me. You’re me dawtie,” she said softly. She caressed the hollow of Addison’s throat as her mind once again returned to the time of their beginning. She giggled. “Do you remember the first time I called you that?”
Addison laughed. “Yeah, we were in bed. I still think you called me Dottie.”
“Oh, I did not.”
“I was so mad, I left and didn’t talk to you for two days.”
“Yes, but not before you’d gotten what you wanted, if I recall correctly.”
“Hey, I worked hard for you.” Addison grinned. “I wasn’t about to throw it away at a crucial moment over some ex-lover’s name.”
Maggie gave her a playful slap then stared down at her. “So, that’s been the problem, has it? We need more time for us?”
Threads of the Heart Page 6
