“Where is it?” Jessie asked.
“Still in my suitcase, but we’ll go in and get it in a minute.”
Jessie beamed at her. “I missed you,” she said, snuggling closer. “I’m glad I got a mommy with lots and lots of sisters to be my aunts.”
Maggie sighed at the feel of the warm little body next to hers. Her sister was so damn lucky to have found a man like Mike who came with a ready-made family. There was nothing Maggie wanted more, which probably explained her tendency to fall head over heels in love in a heartbeat. She was desperate for that elusive happy ending, but she always managed to choose precisely the wrong men to provide it. Besides, desperation was never a good way to start off a relationship. That was another tendency she needed to tame.
“So, has she wheedled a present out of you yet?” Melanie called out as she and Mike strolled in their direction.
Judging from the blush on Melanie’s cheeks, they’d stopped for a few kisses en route. After all, this place was where they’d fallen in love. They were bound to get a little nostalgic, especially in the garden that had brought them together and where they’d been married.
“I told her we’d go inside and get it in a little while,” Maggie said, giving her sister an amused grin. “Don’t pout. I brought something for you guys, too.”
“A cake?” Mike asked, his expression hopeful.
Maggie laughed, despite the sour mood she’d been in before their arrival. “Doesn’t your wife ever bake for you?”
“No, thank goodness,” he said fervently.
Jessie sat up. “She does, too,” she protested loyally. “She bakes us cookies.”
Melanie scooped Jessie up and gave her a squeeze. “Thank you, my precious angel. I haven’t burned a batch in ages and ages, have I?”
“Just the edges,” Jessie said, drawing a resigned, I-told-you-so look from her father and a protest from Melanie.
Maggie grinned. “The truth at last.” She regarded her brother-in-law with amusement. “What’s it worth to you to have me bake you a cake?”
“Depends on what kind and how good it is,” he replied. “Let’s negotiate.”
“Sour-cream cake, fudge frosting,” Maggie offered.
“I’ll stop by and water the lawn.”
Maggie shook her head. “Not good enough.”
“Neither was the cake.”
She knew what he was angling for. “If you want that triple chocolate threat cake, why don’t you go see your friend Pam?”
“She says now that I’m married, she’s not baking for me anymore,” Mike said. “Those cakes were all bribes to try to get me to date her friends.”
Melanie tucked her arm through his. “Want to go back to being single?” she inquired sweetly.
He gazed at her, his lips curving into a slow smile. “Not a chance.”
Maggie gave him a thumbs-up. “For that, you get a triple chocolate cake that will be more decadent than anything Pam ever made you.”
“I suppose you still want something in return,” he said suspiciously.
“The name of an air-conditioning contractor.”
“Deal.”
Jessie, who’d been silent for an astonishingly long time, piped up, “I want my present now, please.”
Maggie stood up and held out her hand. “Since you asked so sweetly, let’s go get it.” She glanced at her sister. “You two coming, or do you want to wait here?”
“We’ll wait here,” Melanie said, her gaze on her husband’s face as if she still couldn’t quite believe how lucky she was.
“Shall I bring you both a glass of wine? Or would you rather I stayed inside for, say, an hour?”
Melanie regarded her with a frown. “Forget it. I know what you’re up to. Bring the wine,” she said. “Then Mike can take Jessie down by the water, and you and I can have a nice long talk.”
“Now there’s something to look forward to,” Maggie muttered sourly.
Inside, she popped open her suitcase and retrieved a brightly wrapped package. “For you,” she said, handing it to Jessie.
Her niece promptly sat on the floor and started tearing off the paper. When she saw the pink makeup case inside, she gasped. “How did you know this was what I wanted more than anything in the whole wide world?” she asked, gazing with awe at the pastel lipsticks, bottles of matching nail polish and lighted mirror.
“A little bird told me,” Maggie said. “Now, remember, it’s just for when you play dress-up.”
“I know,” Jessie said with exaggerated patience. “I can’t go out of the house looking like I’m all growed up. Daddy won’t let me.”
“Your dad just doesn’t want you to grow up too fast,” Maggie told her. “And he’s right. Life gets complicated soon enough as it is.”
Jessie regarded her with confusion. “Huh?”
“Never mind, sweet pea. Take that out and show your mom and dad. I’ll be right along with the wine.”
After Jessie had gone, though, Maggie leaned against the counter and took a deep breath. She was in no hurry to go back outside and face her sister’s questions. She doubted Ashley had filled Melanie in about Rick. Ashley would never betray a confidence, but she would rally the troops to make sure that Melanie was looking after Maggie and providing a shoulder to cry on if Maggie decided she needed it.
In addition, her presence here alone was probably enough to alert Melanie that something wasn’t right. Maggie was a city girl through and through, and lovely as the scenery was around this part of Virginia, there was nothing close by that fit Maggie’s definition of civilization.
She poured the wine for her sister and her brother-in-law, then poured another full-to-the-brim glass for herself. She found the bag she’d brought from home with a few of Melanie’s favorite Boston treats and hauled everything outside, hoping the gifts would distract her sister for a while.
The tactic worked, too, for about five minutes. Then Melanie shot a pointed glance at Mike, who immediately took the hint and led Jessie a discreet distance away.
“Okay, talk,” Melanie ordered.
“About?”
“Why you’re here. What are you running away from? Or should I ask whom?”
“Maybe I was just overdue for a vacation,” Maggie retorted evasively.
“When you take a vacation, which you rarely do, you go to cooking school in Tuscany, you don’t come down here.”
“You did,” Maggie replied testily.
“I was running away,” Melanie reminded her. “Which is why I recognize the symptoms.”
“Oh, for pity’s sake, isn’t it possible to have any secrets in this family?”
“No.”
Maggie laughed, but even she could hear the edge of hysteria in her voice.
“Talk to me,” Melanie repeated. Her patient expression suggested they would be here a very long time if Maggie didn’t open up.
“I thought for sure you were the one sister who wouldn’t pester me for details.”
“You must have me confused with someone who wasn’t born a D’Angelo,” Melanie retorted. “Talk.”
“Okay, here’s the condensed version, and it’s all you’re getting. I met a man,” Maggie revealed finally. “The wrong man, but at least this time I recognized it and got the hell out of Dodge.”
Melanie regarded her with amusement. “So, how’s running away working for you?”
“I’ve only been here a few hours. It hasn’t had time to work.”
“Want to tell me about him?”
“No,” Maggie said flatly. Talking about Rick would only keep him front and center in her mind. She needed to bury all thoughts of him.
Melanie looked disappointed. “Not even a little hint?”
“Nothing,” Maggie insisted.
“Want Mike to go beat him up?”
Maggie bit back a grin. “If I’d wanted someone to beat him up, I’d have told Dad. Besides, he didn’t do anything wrong. This is about me, about the way I turn everything into some ma
jor big deal, even when it’s evident that it’s nothing more than a fling.”
“Who said that’s all it was? You or him?”
“Nobody had to say it,” Maggie replied. “It was obvious.”
“Really? How is it obvious if nobody says it?”
“It just is,” Maggie said stubbornly.
Melanie rolled her eyes. “You know what they say about making assumptions about what somebody else is thinking, don’t you?”
Maggie frowned. “That only applies if the evidence isn’t plain as day.”
“Really? What evidence is that?”
“Past history.”
“Whose?”
“His. Mine.”
“Maybe one or both of you have learned from your mistakes,” Melanie suggested.
Maggie wanted to believe that she had. That’s why she was here and not in Rick’s bed with his hands all over her.
As for Rick, why would he have learned anything? She doubted he considered his past behavior to be a mistake. He was probably perfectly content with the revolving door his love life had become.
“Look, the point is that it’s my decision to cut my losses. I don’t need you to question it,” Maggie told her sister irritably. “Not when you don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Because you won’t tell me,” Melanie countered. “I give really good advice when I know what I’m dealing with.”
“I’m telling you this is the way it has to be. End of story. I don’t want or need your advice. I just need your company from time to time to keep from going stir-crazy.”
Melanie looked as if she might argue, but instead she cupped her hand under Maggie’s chin and looked into her eyes. “I’m here if you need me, okay?”
Tears stung Maggie’s eyes. “Thanks, sis.”
“That’s what the D’Angelo sisters do,” Melanie reminded her. “We stick together.”
“Through thick and thin,” Maggie agreed. She slid a sly glance toward her sister and asked the one question bound to get Melanie off on a safer tangent. “How’s married life treating you?”
A dreamy expression immediately crossed Melanie’s face, and her gaze sought out her husband. She sighed in obvious contentment. “Better than I expected.”
“And Jessie? I know you’ve both had your share of problems with keeping her behavior in check.”
“It’s like she’s a different little girl,” Melanie said. “Not that she’s perfect, far from it, but she hasn’t been out of control in weeks and weeks now.”
“Must be your mellowing influence,” Maggie teased, nudging her sister in the ribs. They both knew Melanie had a temper of her own, though she kept it in check ninety percent of the time.
“I think it’s just knowing that I’m not going anywhere,” Melanie corrected. “I think Mike’s finally gotten that through his thick head, too.”
“I hope so. He married you, after all.”
“But I think he still had doubts. You should have seen the way he watched me the first time we had a huge argument. I think he was convinced I’d take off.”
“But you stayed.”
“I love him. Of course I stayed.” It was Melanie’s turn to give her sister a sly look. “Unlike some people I know, who run at the first sign of trouble.”
Maggie groaned. “I thought we’d stopped talking about me.”
Melanie laughed. “Nope. Just took a break.”
Maggie stood up. “I’m tired. I’m going to bed.”
“It’s not even eight o’clock.”
“I had an exhausting day. It’s a long drive from Boston.”
“And you’re a night owl. Maybe I’ll send Mike and Jessie home, and you and I can have an old-fashioned slumber party. We can talk about men.”
“I’ve done all the talking about men I intend to do,” Maggie said emphatically. “Change the subject or go home.”
“Ungrateful wretch.”
“Nosy witch.”
They laughed at the familiar bickering.
“I’ve missed this,” Melanie said. “I hope you stay a long, long time.”
“It’s just a vacation,” Maggie warned her.
Melanie’s smile spread. “Yeah, that’s what I said when I came down here last March.”
“It’s a vacation,” Maggie repeated.
She had a hunch she was going to need to keep reminding herself—reminding both of them—of that. That was the trouble with running away from home. Sometimes it was very hard not to let pride and fear stand in the way of going back. That was especially true since the man she was running from was likely to be right there when she got back…maybe not waiting for her, but still too damn close for comfort.
2
On Melanie’s recommendation, Maggie found the café in Irvington that served a decent latte and settled at one of the outdoor tables with a stack of regional magazines. Studying the competition always provided a great distraction. She usually knew what to expect from the publications she saw regularly, but she’d found some new ones this morning. With any luck those would be intriguing enough to keep her mind off Rick. Of course, there was no denying that was a tall order.
In fact, she’d deliberately left her cell phone back at the cottage, since the blasted thing had been ringing every five minutes all morning long. She’d finally shut it off, but since she didn’t entirely trust herself not to check for messages, she’d decided to put some distance between herself and that possible link to the man she was so determined to avoid.
Did Rick know by now that she was gone? Did he even care? Veronica had sent an email earlier to let Maggie know that his photos were in and that they were spectacular. The email hadn’t mentioned whether Rick had asked about Maggie or even whether he’d come by personally or sent the pictures by courier. Maggie hadn’t wanted to ask. If the photos had come by courier, it would suggest that Rick, too, was taking extra measures to avoid any more contact between them.
“Want me to scan the pictures in so you can see them?” her assistant asked.
Control freak that she was, Maggie had replied at once, then waited and checked to see if the files had come through. As soon as she’d seen the photos, her heart beat a little harder. Rick had done an amazing job. He was every bit as talented as his reputation implied, even if he had been shooting pictures of summer squash and corn instead of willowy blondes. Maggie had immediately wanted to pick up the phone and call to congratulate him.
That was what had finally driven her out of the house. She was perfectly capable of making her own coffee, but the prospect of sitting outside, thumbing through unfamiliar magazines to look for some ideas that would be fresh to her readers, promised to be almost enticing enough to keep her mind off Rick for an hour or two.
Unfortunately as she studied some of the region’s best photography, she realized none of it held a candle to what Rick had been able to do on short notice. When she realized she was sitting there making comparisons to his work, rather than forgetting about him, she tossed the magazines back into her canvas tote bag and headed home. If she was going to obsess about the man, she might as well be in her own surroundings.
As soon as she stepped inside, she spotted her cell phone on the kitchen table where she’d left it. She told herself that anything work related would be communicated by email. She reminded herself that her family would simply call the cottage. Only Rick was likely to leave a message on her cell-phone voice mail. There was no reason on earth to pick up that phone and check messages, but naturally she did.
To her regret—or was it relief?—there were precisely fourteen messages on her voice mail, thirteen of them from Rick. Apparently there was going to be no escaping the man, after all, unless she gathered the courage to toss the phone into the bay. And since she seemed to get a little thrill just from hearing the increasing frustration in his low, sexy voice, she doubted the phone was going anywhere.
The last message, which had been left only minutes earlier, was from Ashley, and she sounded
odd, a little less confident than usual.
Other than acknowledging that annoying little stutter-step of her heart at the sound of Rick’s voice, Maggie ignored his messages and called her sister on her private line. Ashley picked up at once.
“Hey, Ash, what’s up?”
“Well, hello there,” Ashley said a little too brightly. “Thanks for calling me back so quickly. I wasn’t sure you’d be checking your cell phone for messages, since you’re on vacation.”
Maggie groaned and sank down on the sofa. She knew what that odd tone and the cryptic remark about her vacation meant. “He’s there, isn’t he? Rick is in your office.”
“That’s correct. Today’s the day for surprises, all right.”
“Send him away,” Maggie told her urgently. “Whatever you do, Ashley, do not tell him where I am. Do not tell him I’m on the phone.”
“Yes, I’m doing my best to do exactly that,” Ashley agreed cheerfully.
Ashley mumbled something Maggie couldn’t understand. “What did you say?” Maggie asked her sister.
“She said I’m being too damn persistent,” Rick replied tersely.
There went that stutter-step of her heart again. “Oh,” Maggie said weakly. This was it. Her worst nightmare. Unless she found some way to toughen her resolve immediately, Rick was going charm her whereabouts out of her. Then he was going to track her down, and every one of her noble intentions about ending their doomed affair was going to go up in smoke. She had absolutely no willpower where he was concerned. He was more addictive than chocolate, and in her life that was saying something.
“Where are you, Maggie?” he asked, sounding as if his patience had already been tested beyond its limits. “Why did you take off?”
She ignored the questions and asked one of her own. “How did you find my sister?”
“You mentioned her a couple of times. She works for a high-profile law firm. It wasn’t all that tricky,” he said, a familiar wry amusement threading through his voice. He was clearly awfully damn proud of himself. “I meant, why did you go looking for her?” Maggie revised. “You know how to reach me if you’re that anxious to talk to me.”
Home at Rose Cottage Page 21
