by Bryce, Megan
He wiggled his eyebrows at her and it took everything she had not to laugh.
He said, “Come on, Maggie. What else am I going to do? We’re engaged. I can’t go out on a Friday night without my fiance. I need something to do. Something to take my mind off that mountain of paperwork we will be going through again.”
“What about your video games?”
He looked interested. “We can do that. I have a first-person shooter I think you’d really like. Blood, guts, bullets. I don’t want to oversell it but there are bankers.”
“You think I’d like something like that?”
“I think you’d love it.”
She couldn’t help but smile at him. “I had no idea you were a gamer.”
“Recreational only. It’s relaxing and fun. Drilling for oil is not always fun.”
She couldn’t picture him sitting still long enough to play a video game.
“Do you really get to shoot bankers?”
He tapped his fingers on the table. “I’m torn here. Because on the one hand I can see you’d come play with me if you could pop a cap in some bankers.”
“So that’s a no.”
“I could have just lied to you.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“I don’t like lying to you, Maggie.”
He’d never lied to her, ever. Not told her everything, sure. But he’d never lied. Even when he’d gone back on their deal, he hadn’t lied about it. If you asked Cole a straight question, you got a straight answer.
And she knew that when he’d said he’d meant to go easy on the Beaumonts, it was true. He hadn’t made their deal intending to renege.
If she’d known how much Cole and Tanner had hated each other, she might have done things differently. But she hadn’t known until years later that Tanner had planned Cole’s beating, had watched it. Had stood by silently when everyone else involved had been expelled, including Cole.
It had hurt to have the blinders ripped from her eyes. It had hurt to have Tanner do it himself, drunk and unrepentant still.
It hurt when the person you loved showed themselves to be someone else entirely. Especially when that someone was married to your sister.
Cole put his hand on hers and she lifted her eyes from her plate. He said, “I don’t like lying, Maggie. The truth is usually ugly enough.”
A little piece of her heart cracked. She knew why he didn’t like to lie. Richard Montgomery had lied to everyone. Had gone back on handshakes, spent millions in court to break down a contract he’d signed, laughed in the face of anyone who believed in anything he said or did.
Maggie had no idea how many lies he’d told his son. But it looked like it had been enough.
She said, “It’s too bad there aren’t bankers.”
He nodded. “I don’t know why it hasn’t been done yet. But there are zombies.”
“Of course there are zombies.”
“Aliens?”
She wobbled her head.
“I can find something for you to shoot up.”
“Oil drillers?”
He grinned. “You want to come over and play with my controller, don’t you?”
She didn’t know what it said about her but she did. It sounded fun, and she hadn’t had fun in a long, long time.
He signaled for the check. “How about this? We go play with one more creditor so he can call up his buddies and do our dirty work for us, then I drive us back to my place while you return those calls you keep yapping about, and then we immerse ourselves in blood and guts so we can be relaxed tomorrow when we get back to work.”
She thought about it while he signed. When he looked back up at her, she said, “I just want to make one thing clear.”
He sighed. “Fine. No nap.”
“Yes, no nap. But I was going to say I will not be eating anymore bacon.”
He smiled and slid his hand under her elbow to help her up. “I’ll have something delivered for dinner.”
“I’m not eating again until Monday.” She wasn’t sure she actually could.
“I’d agree with you but then I’d be lying.”
“You’ll have to tie me down to get anything else past these lips.”
He looked up and whispered, “Thank you, Lord.”
This time she laughed.
They’d seen one more of Maggie’s creditors, though this one hadn’t been surprised by the visit. He’d already gotten approval to consolidate the loans and extend the time frame. Cole had been happy to point out that he’d forgotten a rate reduction.
Afterward, Cole had driven them home while Maggie listened to even more messages, returning most of them before five o’clock rolled around.
And then he’d grabbed her phone, happily turned it off, and handed her a controller.
They started with spies. Maybe they weren’t quite as satisfying as bankers but the game was a classic.
Cole sat in his large recliner and pulled Maggie into his lap. She elbowed him in the gut trying to climb back out but he held tight.
He said with a wheeze, “I only have one chair.”
“I’ll use a barstool.”
“Trust me, this will be more comfortable. Once I teach you the controls, you can have it all to yourself. If you want.”
She said, “Is this how you learned how to play? Sitting in some man’s lap?”
“Well now you just made it creepy.”
He scooted back, snuggling her between his legs, and pointing to each button and telling her what it did.
She said, “How do I know what to shoot at?”
“Shoot at everything.”
And then they got lost in the game, Cole wrapping his hands around hers and pushing the buttons when she was too slow. Her fighting him to keep control.
She ripped her hands out of his and said, “Stop that. I’m playing.”
He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulled her close. “You want to be in control all the time.”
“I do.”
“Me, too. Makes friends hard to come by.”
She cocked her head, still shooting onscreen. “Do you want friends?”
“Nope. I got all the friends I need.” He put his lips on her cheek, whispered into her ear. “Now that she’s come back to me.”
“Are we friends, Cole?”
“We’ve always been, Maggie. It’s just hard people are hard to live with sometimes.”
They’d been friends first, from that very first moment. His father had bought the property next to the ranch house as soon as he could afford it. To rub it in Sam Caldwell’s face, to be a constant irritation.
But Cole and Maggie had taken one look at each other and their souls had clicked. It wasn’t love. It was a connection. It was knowing that they were the same kind of people. The same kind of cold, hard steel that was unable, unwilling, to bend to make life easier for others.
She, because she was out of the league of every man on the planet. The daughter of a magnate, too smart to not be a threat, her beauty just a tad too far this side of creepy. By the time he’d met her, she was taller than most of the teachers at the school. Taller than him, taller than everyone. She’d come into her height early and she’d refused to hide it. No stooping, no slouching. If the other girls were wearing heels, she’d be wearing heels.
Any other school, any other father, and she would have been tormented endlessly. But the sons and daughters of Dallas merely got out of her way. And when she heard the whispering, she responded with a look that said deal with it.
And he, because he was unwelcome in both the world he’d been born into and the one he’d ended up in. His father had bankrupted a quarter of the school and it hadn’t started with them. Cole had spent his first ten years in a slum, knew Spanish just as well as English, and had had plenty of opportunity to build up callouses on his knuckles in his before-life.
At his new school, with his father, the sons and daughters of Dallas stepped in his way. And when he heard the taunts and jeers, his f
ists came up along with a look that said I’ll make you deal with it.
Maggie and Cole had looked at each other, seen the deal with it in each other’s eyes, and known they weren’t alone anymore.
Cole had forgotten the last few years what it felt like not to be alone.
When Maggie sitting in his lap became more distracting than the game, Cole pushed her out so he could order dinner.
She groaned. “I can’t eat another bite. Really.”
“I’m so looking forward to tying you up.”
She glared at him, then turned back to the game and shot everything in sight.
He smiled when she gave him a pointed look, and he said, “It helps some, don’t it?”
She curled back into his chair, her feet going underneath her, her skirt inching up, her blouse loose.
He looked his fill while he dialed. Looked at the hair she’d pulled back into a ponytail and remembered that long-limbed, gangly teenage girl. Wondered where they’d be now if things had been different. If he’d been able to keep his temper.
He’d had her in his bed, had her as his friend. His only friend. The only friend he’d ever thought he’d need.
Would they have stayed friends or would he have done something eventually to make them turn on each other? Because what he’d said was true. They were hard people. Odds were they would have butted heads someday.
Would they have stayed lovers or would she have ended that once the Beaumonts were back on their feet? He wasn’t sure how he would have handled that. To have Maggie still, just not all of her.
When dinner was delivered, she ate. He didn’t even have to threaten her again, and when she only finished half of it, he simply finished it for her.
He climbed back in the chair, holding his breath while she debated with herself about climbing back into his lap.
She said, “Don’t make too much out of this.”
“I know. It’s only because I have one chair.”
When she was settled, he handed her the controller and said, “But I will definitely be making too much out of this.”
They played for another hour, Maggie fighting him for the controls less and less until finally she laid her head back on his shoulder and watched.
He paused the game. “You going to sleep here? We can share the bed.”
She shook her head, yawning.
“Then you’d better go home before you fall asleep.”
She turned her head towards his cheek and said softly, “You were right. This was better than paperwork.”
“And that’s so hard to do. Only really good friends can make video games more fun than paperwork.”
She smiled and he thought about turning his head to meet her, to touch her lips with his. She was warm and relaxed, here in his lap.
Instead he said, “We were really good friends once, Maggie. I’d like that again.”
“You should have made it part of our deal.”
“No. I want to earn it.”
She sighed. “You didn’t earn it the first time. It just was.”
“Maybe that’s why I shit on it. Because I didn’t have to earn it.”
She sat up, crawled out of the chair, and went to her shoes. She pulled them on, looking down and saying, “If it had been anyone but Tanner, would you have broken our deal?”
“If it had been anyone but Tanner, would you have made that deal in the first place?”
He knew she wouldn’t have. He said, “You were a . . .”
He stopped, not so much because of the glint in her eye, but because of his rising blood pressure.
She’d been a virgin. Eighteen-years-old, Margaret Caldwell, and still a virgin. And she’d bargained it away to a Montgomery like it meant nothing. Hadn’t even mentioned it.
He could be forgiven for thinking they’d just have a little bit of fun. But it hadn’t been, for either of them. Not sure either of them had forgiven him for that, either.
He hadn’t known, goddammit.
He’d looked down at her blood on him and had stared, uncomprehending. And then when he’d figured out what it meant, he’d puked.
Puked his guts out while the woman he’d just roughly deflowered patted his back and murmured God knew what.
If Tanner fucking Beaumont had been within sight, Cole would have killed him. Would have killed him for being the catalyst to that moment.
Cole took deep cleansing breaths, counted to ten, pictured himself standing at the bottom of a large mountain and pounding it down to dust.
Nothing helped. The rage still ate at him.
He knew it always would. The tips and tricks weren’t meant to dissipate the anger, it was simply meant to occupy himself until the urge to lash out passed. Until he was strong enough to chain the beast back up. He’d spent years trying to excise the beast until, defeated, he realized he was the beast.
The beast was him.
He would spend his life chaining that part of himself back up.
When he looked at Maggie again, she was watching him.
And she laughed, surprising him, making him jump. She shook her head, chuckling, the humor clear on her face.
She said, “We couldn’t have screwed that whole thing up more if we’d been trying.”
His anger dissipated in the face of her laughter and he followed her out the door. She was still smiling when she looked up into the night sky, at the stars sparkling brightly.
He said, “What do you think would have happened if I’d honored my end of the deal?”
“Most likely my father would have found out about us and strung you up to the nearest tree. By the balls.”
“Moving on to the second most likely.”
Her teeth flashed in the moonlight.
She said, “Your father would have found out.”
He stood there quietly, imagining that horrifying scenario. He said, “There was just no escaping me swinging by the balls, was there?”
She headed down the stairs, her laughter trailing behind her.
He followed her to her car and when she opened the door, he said, “It would have hurt less, Maggie. I hope you know that.”
“I don’t know it. My father and your father both wanting the same thing? Do you think they would have helped each other? Each grabbed a leg?”
Cole shuddered. He said, “Anyone in Dallas will tell you, the only thing worse than the Montgomerys and Caldwells fighting is the Montgomerys and Caldwells teaming up.”
When she smiled her cold smile, he said, “What would you have done after they stopped trying to unman me?”
She cocked her head, looked beyond him. She finally said, “I would have cut you down. We already know I like you best when you’re lying unconscious in my lap.”
“Would you have cried?”
“Most likely. I was pretty attached to your balls at that point.”
He smiled because he remembered it fondly. “And then? Would it have worked? Made us back off each other?”
“I don’t think we know how to back off. We would have just run off together. Left Texas. For California, maybe.”
He looked up at the stars and pictured them in California. He finally nodded. “I’d accept California.”
“We’d start fresh, no father’s shadow to break free from, to climb out from under. I would have been Margaret Caldwell instead of one of those Caldwells. And you’d have been Cole Montgomery instead of the son of that Montgomery.”
It sounded so nice he didn’t know why he hadn’t done that anyway.
He said, “We would have got married. You’d have been Margaret Montgomery.”
She put her nose in the air and said imperiously, “I would have never been a Montgomery, even if I’d married you.”
“Caldwell-Montgomery?”
“Never.”
He imagined them in California, starting fresh, just the two of them. “You think we would have really gone?”
“Yes. There would have been nothing left to stay for.”
&nbs
p; “Because Tanner had chosen your sister.”
She said the ugly truth. “Yes. And because my father would have disowned me.”
He felt the punch in his gut. “You think you would have stayed with me even then?”
She said softly, “I would never have left you, Cole. Only way off that cliff was to be pushed.”
She climbed into her car, shutting the door with a thunk. Cutting the past off with a thunk.
He wasn’t sure he believed her. But he’d been right, swinging by the balls would have hurt far, far less.
He watched her taillights until she turned a corner, the trees and bushes blocking his view.
Stood there and pictured where they’d be now if he’d only chosen differently.
Five
Maggie shouldn’t have sat in his lap.
Either time.
But Cole had put those strong arms around her and Maggie had felt safe. Warm and safe and protected. And yes, wanted. It had been a long time since she’d felt any of those emotions.
Oh, there had been other men since Cole. But those had been, as he’d so delicately put it, a scratch that needed itching.
Not since she’d lain in Cole’s arms twelve years ago had she felt that she was with someone who wouldn’t falter.
Whatever came, he could deal with it. Whatever she brought, he could deal with it.
High maintenance? She’d heard herself described as such a time or two. And she couldn’t argue with it.
She liked Cole’s word better. Hard.
A hard woman?
No, hard wasn’t much better than high maintenance. Even if both words described her accurately.
Maggie pulled into her driveway, noting an unfamiliar Mercedes.
She turned off the ignition and sat in the dark.
All she wanted was to take a shower and go to bed. She was so full, so relaxed. Her stomach didn’t hurt, a miracle all its own, and she wanted to lay in bed and remember what it felt like to have Cole wrapped around her. Because she wouldn’t do it again.
She only had so much self-control. He’d make one invitation too many and she’d say yes.
And where would that leave them?
Right now she was thinking it would leave them pretty happy and she couldn’t quite remember why that was bad.
