When he looked up into her eyes, his smile faded slightly. He leaned forward and laid his lips on hers. Even though he licked her with his tongue and opened his mouth over hers, he, too, pulled back instead of taking the kiss deeper or pressing for more.
“We’ll take it one day at a time, until you’re not confused any longer.”
Maggie exhaled heavily and ran a hand over her wild curls. She’d just been given more physical pleasure than she’d known existed, by three men she thought might be the most generous, and patient, men on earth.
“We’ll touch you, and kiss you, and probably drive you crazy.” Trevor smiled. “But you can still stop us at any time with just one word. Okay?”
Maggie knew her mind had a ways to go to catch up with her body in trusting these men completely. “That sounds good for me, but what’s in it for you?”
“You.” Richard reached for her hand and brought it to his lips. “When you’re ready.” He kissed it, then gently relinquished it and stepped back.
“Now that you’ve inspected the bedroom, what do you say we go over to Adam and Jake’s, get your things, and move you in here?”
“I guess we could do that.” One day at a time. Maggie figured it was just exactly the right pace for her.
Chapter 8
Richard made his way downstairs, the smell of freshly brewed coffee an irresistible lure. With his phone clamped onto the belt of his jeans and his Bluetooth activated, he waited patiently on hold while his administrative assistant, Janice, contacted his two o’clock appointment.
He kind of liked the basic concept of working from home as a change of pace, and that surprised him quite a bit. He’d been characterized by more than one family member as being a complete workaholic. The label fit and had never bothered him. He’d actually considered the comment a compliment. But just lately he’d begun to consider that there might be more to life than the art of the deal.
As he poured himself a cup of joe, he looked out the kitchen window. Trey stood on the back porch, cup in hand. He seemed to be taking in the view of rolling pasturelands even as his lips moved.
I’m not the only one burning up the airwaves between here and Houston. He wouldn’t be surprised if, shortly after he disconnected his call, Janice and Laura, Trey’s admin, got together for a little confab of their own.
He heard a light click in his ear. “Okay, boss, Mr. Michaelson was fine with rescheduling today’s meeting to next Friday at two thirty. His secretary is also faxing over a few proposed changes in the wording of a couple of paragraphs in the contract.”
“Good. Send it to me when you get it. You can also scan and forward anything else that comes in that you think I need to see.”
“How’s the decorating coming? I hear you’re finally getting some furniture into your house.”
Rick let his gaze take in the kitchen. A table and four chairs that hadn’t been there just a couple of days before stood smartly in the center of the room. The four placemats and a vase of flowers in the middle of the oak table spoke of a softer, feminine touch. Rick smiled, because Maggie had chosen the entire ensemble for them. She’d dropped in Saturday evening on her way to Lusty Appetites to have dinner, ostensibly to drop off the sweater he’d left at her inn earlier in the day. Of course then he and his brothers had invited themselves along, and the four of them had eaten dinner together.
When Maggie saw the interior of their house, she’d been appalled at the lack of furniture, and the next day had dragooned Adam and Jake into helping her bring stuff over.
His cousins had been good-natured about it all, but a few other members of their extended family had sent the four of them “knowing” looks at dinner and as they’d made their way around town on Sunday.
Note to self. Tell Aunt Anna that Maggie’s gun-shy so she can get the word out to the rest of the family. The last thing he and his brothers wanted was for Maggie to be asked by some well-meaning relative when the wedding was going to be.
He looked at his watch. It was nearly time for him to head over to the inn and give Maggie her welcome-to-Lusty gift—and another kiss.
To Janice he said, “Yeah, we’ve managed to get a few pieces. You’ll be pleased to know we no longer have to stand and spoon soup into our starving mouths from saucepans held over the kitchen sink.”
Janice laughed. “I’m sure that was a real problem for all three of you. How long are you planning to work from home, boss? Can I move into your office, or do you want me to pack my bags and head north to join you?”
Rick laughed. “We’re working on a tricky negotiation that’s going to require our presence in town here for another couple of weeks, at least.”
“Really?” He heard the interest in his admin’s voice. “Do I know anything about this latest business deal? Seriously, I don’t have a file, there’s no paper trail. I know how you like to make sure everything’s documented.”
“This isn’t that kind of a negotiation.” Rick had a flash of insight that he was teasing Janice. That hadn’t been his intention at all. He just didn’t want to get specific, at least not yet. “Listen, let’s just see how things go over the next few days. I’m pretty certain we can manage this without changing how the company is set up and does business. Technology is, after all, our friend.”
“Technology may be your friend, Rick Benedict. But my friend, not so much so.”
Rick chuckled even as he disconnected the call. Janice had a history of having arguments with various and sundry pieces of technology—and losing.
Trey came through the back door just as Kevin entered the kitchen from the hallway.
“I love it when this happens.” Trey headed for the coffeepot and his usual morning refill. “Here we all are in the same room just when I need us to be.”
“You know, studies show that more than two cups of coffee a day interferes with your sexual performance.” Kevin’s expression looked serious as hell, which told Rick he was pulling Trey’s leg.
“I have to do something to give the two of you an edge,” Trey shot back, “otherwise our lady will wonder why I’m so hot and y’all are not.”
Rick grinned. “Kev, he’s just too sharp for you.”
“Never.”
“The reason I’m glad you’re both here isn’t for the personal ribbing, bizarre as that may sound. Laura is setting up an interview for us with the folks over at Style and Substance. I thought we’d be most comfortable answering questions over lunch. I’m having her book a table in one of their alcoves for us at Sorrento’s for Friday at noon.”
Rick frowned. “I’ve rescheduled Michaelson to Friday at two, so that works, logistically. But as for my comfort level, I’d be most comfortable not having to do the interview at all. Ever since The Herald did that piece on us calling us modern-day Titans, things have changed.”
“You’re just used to the anonymity of doing business in New York.” Kevin poured himself some coffee and then held the pot up, examining it.
Rick kept his expression blank.
“Why is it I always get the bottom of the pot?” Kevin looked from him to Trey.
Rick shrugged. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”
“Hey, you snooze, you lose.” Trey grinned. Then he met Rick’s gaze. “The job of the reporter who wrote that piece in The Herald was to sell copies of the paper. Our purpose for doing that interview was to enhance the public image of the company. Now the face of Benedict International is a younger, more vibrant face than it was just a couple of years ago. Besides, I chose the title for that article.”
Rick stopped his cup halfway to his lips. “‘Titans of the Twenty-first Century’ was your brain child?”
“Yes.” Trey gave him a big self-satisfied smile. “Like the moniker better now?”
“Not really, no.” Rick shrugged. He never thought of himself in anything but the most basic of terms. He was a man who ran a company, engaged in business, and that was that. He’d never felt any sense of entitlement with his positio
n, just a sense of responsibility. Hundreds of people depended upon him to do a good job, as they made their livelihood through the family company.
He guessed he could thank his parents and his grandmother for the fact neither he nor his brothers had swelled heads.
“Look, I know where you’re coming from. But when you consider that an elevated and relatable presence on the business scene guarantees not only continued investment but luring the best possible business partners and employees, then the public face we sometimes have to wear is a small price to pay.”
“Of course you’re right.” Rick rinsed out his now-empty cup and set it in the dishwasher. “I don’t want you to think I don’t appreciate your marketing and PR genius, Trey, because I do.”
“You’re just not comfortable in the spotlight, I get it. You don’t like to appear to be the head titan, throwing your weight around, master of all you survey.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Unless it comes to squashing vermin like Clarence Fucking Conrad.” Kevin smiled his own version of self-satisfaction.
Rick nodded. “That’s different. What’s the sense in having all this money and power if you can’t take out the trash now and again?” He checked his watch. “I’m headed over to Maggie’s.”
“Don’t dawdle.” Kevin raised both eyebrows. “I’ll be on my way in an hour and a half. Trey gets to be last today.”
“Only because you’re the best cook among us, Kevin.” Trey nodded toward the table. “Since Maggie went to so much trouble, choosing a dining set for us and seeing it set up, the least we can do is have the lady over for dinner.”
“Which is exactly how I’m going to word the invitation,” Rick said.
“Make sure you kiss her for the both of us, too.” Trey saluted him with his cup.
“That’s the plan.” Rick left the kitchen and headed for the front door. He only paused long enough to scoop the box that had been delivered just that morning.
They’d given Maggie a taste of them, together. Now they were giving her a taste of them one-on-one.
He’d referred to this—their wooing of Maggie—to his admin as a special negotiation, and he supposed in a way it was.
No matter how much he might wish it otherwise, he knew he’d never be a real Romeo. So he guessed the best he could do was to just play to his own strengths.
* * * *
Maggie scanned her list, checking off another item. She’d opened her business account at the bank here in town with far less difficulty than she’d anticipated. That was a bonus, because sometimes local businesses were leery of strangers coming to town.
She thought that likely the fact that Grandma Kate had introduced her to the bank manager might have had something to do with the ease of the welcome she’d received.
While she had that business account and a small personal checking account here in Lusty, and opened another one in Waco, she’d kept the bulk of her investments in New Jersey for the time being. With online banking so prevalent, she couldn’t see any reason not to leave her investments and long-term savings where they were.
Who knew if this was where she was going to spend the rest of her life?
One item on her list was scheduled to take place just after the lunch hour. Jake and Adam’s brother Jordan, a building contractor, had agreed to come and have a look at the third floor “loft” with a view to renovating it. With six bedrooms on the second floor, she thought it might be nice to convert the two on the third floor into one room—a loft—and offer it as a special accommodation, promote it as the “honeymoon suite.” She envisioned light yellow walls, wicker-accented furniture. She also wanted to install an en-suite bath similar to the one she had in her own room—though perhaps not quite as large.
The small balcony on the third floor that opened to the back of the house and overlooked the fields and rolling hills of Central Texas would make a wonderful place to set out a small dining set so guests could enjoy their morning coffee alfresco or even have special, private candlelit dinners catered in. Maggie nodded and added another item to her list. She needed to check with Kelsey and see if Lusty Appetites provided take-out, or a catering service. Maggie herself was a pretty good cook and might even consider catering special evening meals for the honeymoon suite herself. But she didn’t want her business to in any way infringe on Kelsey’s territory.
Maggie wasn’t looking to make a fortune here in Lusty, or even to make her mark. She had a fortune, thanks to the value of the land she’d just sold in Wildwood Crest. There’d been no mortgage on The Leprechaun, and so the sale had been completely unencumbered. Maggie Morrison had more money in the bank than she’d ever spend in her lifetime.
All she wanted for this new place was to make her own place—to be busy, and productive, a member of the community and a doting aunt and great-aunt. Of course, she wanted to make a profit. She needed to show the Town Trust they’d chosen wisely in choosing her to be their innkeeper. But anything more than that simply wasn’t necessary.
Maggie looked over her “must do” list—a subdivision of her “to do” list. She’d applied for her business license, allowing Adam and Jake’s fathers to file the forms on her behalf, check. Operating account at the bank, check.
Maggie grinned. She had to admit that whenever she wound up spending time over at the New House—the home of the senior Kendalls—she paid pretty close attention to the family dynamics there. She’d just never imagined a family with one wife and three husbands. She didn’t want to think too deeply about why that particular dynamic was running around loose in her head, waving question marks like pom-poms.
The Kendalls made their kind of very unique family all seem both simple and natural.
The doorbell rang at the same time the phone trilled. Maggie shook her head, picked up the portable, and answered the call as she headed from her small office to the front door.
“Parkview Inn, Margaret Morrison speaking.”
She looked through the etched glass, recognizing the outline of the man who waited on her porch.
Richard Benedict didn’t fidget the way Kevin did, or look around the way Trevor did. No, Richard stood absolutely still, his entire attention fixed on her door. As if he could will me to appear before him by force of concentration alone.
Maggie smiled at the fanciful thought and at Richard as she swung the door open to let him in.
In her ear she heard a very cultured male voice say, “Good morning. I’m interested in booking a room for three days next week.”
My first request for a reservation and I have to turn him down. “I’m so sorry, but we won’t be open for business until the first of next month.”
“Ah well, isn’t that my bad luck? But that’s all right, really, as I will be back in the area on business again next month. Do you mind if I put you on hold while I check my calendar?”
“Not at all.” She covered the mouthpiece with her hand. “I’m going to take this in the office. I’ll only be a moment.”
“I’ll wait.”
Maggie made it back to her desk, and pen and paper, just in time. The gentleman—a salesman from Philadelphia—requested a room for one for three nights, midweek, opening week. Maggie finished the details and disconnected the call.
Her eyes tracked up to the large calendar she’d hung above her desk. She didn’t know where the time was going, but she had only two weeks until opening. Why had she set herself such a tight schedule? Then she shook her head. It didn’t matter. There wasn’t really so much to do before opening, except the renovations she wanted to the third floor—and really, they could wait. Shaking her head, she set the pen down.
It would all work out. She just had to have faith.
With that, Maggie went in search of Richard and found him exactly where she’d left him, in the entrance hall.
“Booking guests already?”
“I activated this phone just this morning! I wonder how he even knew there was going to be an inn, let alone ask directory assi
stance for it? My first booked guest is a traveling salesman from Philadelphia.”
Richard shrugged. “Word gets around the area pretty fast. You went into Waco and opened that bank account the other day. You’d have had to give some employment reference?”
Since Richard seemed to be expecting a response, she nodded. She had mentioned opening the B and B in Lusty.
“So likely someone at the bank told two friends, and they told two friends…”
Maggie laughed. Richard’s sense of humor was keen, if drolly delivered. She recalled the shampoo commercial he was aping and finished it for him. “Uh huh, and so on, and so on, and so on.”
“Trust me, a lot of business works that way in Texas.”
“Hmm, I guess you’re right, because even though he’s from Pennsylvania, he obviously does business in Texas.” For the first time she noticed the box Richard held easily in one hand. “What do you have there?”
“This?” He held up the plain cardboard box that was a bit deeper than a box of chocolates. On the one side a name had been stamped—Sleeping Echoes. Maggie had never heard of the company before. She met Richard’s gaze and realized he was looking at her in that singular way he had that made her feel as if she had his total, complete, and undivided attention.
Maggie had to force her attention back to the moment. Meeting Richard’s gaze always played hell with her concentration. “Yes, since that’s the only thing you have to which I could be referring.”
Richard gave her a smile that seemed to shiver over her entire body before settling low in her belly to tease her clit. She came back to the moment and had to resist the urge to blush.
The expression on Richard’s face told her he knew where her thoughts had taken her. Then he said, “It’s a gift, for you. I’ll trade you for a kiss.”
She tilted her head to one side. “Is that what they call ‘paying for something in trade’?” Maggie had never before been plagued by an inner imp intent on getting her in trouble—and flirting outrageously with as potent a specimen of masculinity as Richard Benedict was definitely courting trouble.
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