by Cara Colter
Luke eyed her shrewdly, put his helmet back on, gave her a slow salute, and then sauntered over to his bike, all loose-limbed grace, and swung a long leg over it. The engine started with a throaty, powerful purr, and then he was pulling smoothly into traffic, leaving her.
For good?
Kristen whirled on her. “Have you lost your ever-loving mind?”
Maggie had, but that was last night.
“No,” she said, but she was not so sure. She knew she was losing everything, not just her mind, but everything that mattered somehow.
“Was he serious? Scrabble?”
“Possibly.”
“Maggie, he’s a perfect ten! He’s like a movie star, only ten times better. He’s rugged and real and about the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. He wanted you to go with him!”
“Yes,” Maggie said.
“Did you see the look on his face when he touched your hair?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
“That man is crazy in love with you.”
Crazy in love with her. Maggie digested that. Could it possibly be true? She had to remind herself, firmly, that he was not so crazy in love with her that he wanted to live instead of die.
“Oh, I could just strangle you sometimes,” Kristen said.
“Well, today would be a real good day if you plan to do it.”
“Oh, come on,” Kristen said. “Let’s see if Dr. Richie can talk some sense into you.”
“Actually, I have come to my senses.”
Kristen snorted. “I don’t think so,” she said dramatically.
She paused in the door of the class, and her annoyance at Maggie evaporated. “Maggie,” she said excitedly, “look over there.”
Maggie looked at a beautiful woman standing off to the side as the rest of the class took their seats. The woman was tall and willowy and masses of red curly hair haloed her extraordinarily stunning face. It was a face that would not be forgotten, once seen, and Maggie had a vague sense of knowing who the woman was.
“It’s the film star,” Kristen whispered, awed. “Cynthia Reynolds.”
“It is not,” Maggie said, but she could see Kristen was convinced. She felt a moment’s gratitude that at least it was taking her friend’s mind off their encounter with Luke.
“I’m going to ask her,” Kristen said.
Maggie looked back at the woman. Despite her great beauty, or maybe because of it, she looked like she might enjoy her privacy, but Kristen was generally not sensitive to such subtle vibes. There was, in fact, no talking to Kristen once she got that look in her eye. Thank goodness that look was now being directed at someone else!
Kristen came back a few minutes later, breathless. “It is her!”
Maggie tried to look suitably awed. The truth was Brad Pitt could run through the room naked right now and she could barely make herself care about it.
Glumly, she took her seat while Kristen looked around for something to have the film star autograph.
“Not a piece of paper,” she muttered. “Something that could become a collectible.” She leaned forward to the woman in front of her. “Do you think I could buy your scarf from you? That’s Cynthia Reynolds over there, and I’d like her to sign something for me.”
The woman looked over where Kristen was pointing, and leaped up. Moments later, Kristen was watching with narrowed eyes as the woman had Cynthia sign her scarf.
“Of all the nerve,” Kristen muttered.
Dr. Richie came in. He didn’t make any fuss over the new member of the class, though he was obviously very aware she was there.
Maggie wondered if this was her fate now: would every man be compared to Luke and found wanting? Because she found herself looking at Dr. Richie and seeing things she had not seen before. She was very aware that he was subtly preening for Cynthia Reynolds and smiling nervously, like a person with stage fright. Maggie was willing to bet the star had asked him not to introduce her or draw attention to her. She was also willing to bet he desperately wanted to do just that.
Kristen continued to focus on the film star, and Maggie continued to focus on the chaos her life had become.
At the break she intended to sneak out and not come back. How could anyone here shed any light on the mess her life had become? It was back to her couch, and Double Chocolate Madness.
“Well,” Dr. Richie said, beaming, “it’s our last night together. I hope everyone has discovered the boldness and the beauty of the new you.”
Maggie thought she had discovered the boldness of the new her, all right. She just wasn’t at all sure it was a good thing.
Her mind wandered. She thought of Luke. She thought of him telling her, with such tender sincerity, that she already had those qualities in abundance. She thought of their night together. She thought of the look of boyish delight on his face as he had pulled up on the motorcycle outside just now. She thought of Kristen saying, “That man is crazy in love with you.”
Since it was the final class, Dr. Richie reminded everyone that his new series of seminars, called Losing Weight Through Visualization would be starting shortly.
This seemed to be directed personally at the film star.
Maggie glanced over at her and didn’t think the gorgeous Miss Reynolds looked as if she needed to lose any weight. She was curvy, yes, but in that way of a woman maturing, coming fully into herself.
“Because it is our last night,” Dr. Richie said, “perhaps some of you could share with me the changes this seminar has made in your lives.”
The testimonials were enthusiastic and numerous. Maggie was not sure she could bear listening to one more person say how happy they were, how the B&B seminars and NoWait seemed to have changed their lives. They felt more energetic. More alive. More passionate.
Well, she could add an “and how” to that last one. Actually, she had to admit she could say yes to all those things.
“I have a final challenge for you,” Dr. Richie said, “before we say adieu.”
He paused, steepled his fingers thoughtfully under his nose, and when he spoke again, his voice had changed. It seemed as if it was coming from a place deep, deep within himself.
“Sometimes,” he said quietly, “we have a strangle-hold on life. We exhaust ourselves and milk the joy from life by trying to be in control of everything, including other people. The truth is that we only have control over one small thing in this world. And that one small thing is ourselves.”
Maggie found herself listening, truly listening, for the first time tonight.
Dr. Richie went on. “We need to give up our need to control everything. We need to surrender to the process of life, to trust it.”
Maggie stared at him. It seemed as though he was speaking directly to her. And suddenly he did turn and look right at her.
She was aware, from the sympathetic look on his face, that she might not be looking her best.
But nothing about the way Luke had looked at her just a few minutes ago had made her feel the way Dr. Richie’s gaze was making her feel—as if she should rush off and change clothes, brush her hair, apply a dab of lipstick.
“There is one thing you are holding on to,” Dr. Richie said, his voice sage, his eyes locked on hers, despite the presence of the movie star in their midst. “Let it go.”
Let it go. She stared back at him. She felt as if he had seen right into her heart, exposed her deepest fears and insecurities, and told her exactly what she needed to do.
Let it go.
She scrambled up from her chair, nearly knocking it over.
Kristen sighed and rolled her eyes. “I hope you have come to your senses.”
“I think I have,” Maggie said.
“Good. Go call that man and ride in the moonlight. I don’t know about the Scrabble part, though.”
Maggie smiled. “That was the best part.”
“So, are you going to call him?”
“Excuse me,” a woman beside them said. “Must you two girls be so disruptive?”
They ignored the question. “No,” Maggie said to her friend, “I am not going to call him.”
Kristen glared at her. “Then you’re crazy.”
Maggie actually laughed. “I think I am,” she said. Crazy in love. She raced out the doors of the Healthy Living Clinic and practically ran all the way home.
She arrived breathless, picked up the phone the minute she got in the door, and crossed her fingers. But she did not call Luke August.
No, she called Skookum Leo’s, and nearly cried with relief when he was there and answered his phone.
Calmly, firmly, she made her request.
And then she called her office and left a message on her secretary’s voice mail. No doubt the woman would be surprised in the morning.
“She’s not here for the rest of the week, sir.”
Luke couldn’t believe his ears. Maggie was not answering her phone at home, and now she was not at work, either?
“Well, where is she?” he growled.
“Sir, even if I had that information I would not give it to every stranger who called in,” he was told snippily.
He was so crazy in love he actually appreciated that her secretary was so protective of her.
Crazy in love. This couldn’t be happening to him, Luke August, but it was and there was no hiding it. It was in his face every single time he failed to make contact with her. For a little Maggie Mouse, she was showing amazing stubbornness. She wouldn’t return his calls and was avoiding him with great success.
Well, he’d played this game before. Of course, before he had always been on the other end of the avoiding game.
So, he was being brushed off. He was just going to have to accept that. He should be grateful that he was thirty-four years old and had never had this horrible experience before—the experience of being on this side of unrequited love.
He was miserable. He couldn’t eat. He couldn’t sleep. He yelled at Brian. He called his mother. He bought a puppy that he called Stinkbomb, Too. It promptly lived up to its name by depositing a steaming brown pile on the new carpet in his house.
The dog was supposed to replace Maggie. It was supposed to take his mind off her. It was supposed to meet his need for love and attention.
And really, the poor creature was no better at any of those things than Amber had been.
Luke was like a lovesick boy and it was embarrassing. He actually considered canceling the race, phoning and telling her.
But he stopped short of that. It felt all wrong. Agreeing not to ride in the race would be more than surrender, it would be utter defeat. He would be giving a part of himself away. And if he did that now, this early in the relationship, what would be left of him by the time little Miss Maggie was through with him?
“Remember Samson,” he told himself and the dog. “Crazy in love with Delilah. Gave his power to her. That was the message. It’s not real love if it takes your power.”
Stinkbomb, Too cocked his head this way and that, and looked at Luke with rapt adoration.
“She appears to be through with me now,” Luke told the dog after he’d tried her number for about the hundredth time and gotten no answer. The dog whined sympathetically.
“So, I go on with my life. I enter that race on Saturday. And I bet I win, too.”
They were the sentiments of a man who had nothing to lose, who could pull out what few stops he had ever exercised in his life.
But despite his resolve to put Maggie out of his mind, he did not succeed. In unguarded moments that wild night with her would enter his mind and fill him with the most intense longing. She was in his dreams. He caught himself having imaginary conversations with her.
He was crazy in love, and the humiliating fact was that everyone knew. Brian knew. His mother knew. Even Rhonda down at Morgan’s knew.
It was as if he had a big flashing sign on his head that said “Luke August has fallen and fallen hard.”
“You got it bad,” Brian told him, not without satisfaction.
“I don’t,” Luke snapped. “It’s over.”
Brian regarded him with a faintly sympathetic smirk. “No, it ain’t, boss. This is just the beginning. It’s like a roller-coaster ride. Up, down. Up again. Hang in there.”
It was a sad state of affairs when a guy like Brian was giving advice to the lovelorn.
His mother guessed when he told her he’d bought a dog. How did women do that—make these leaps that defied logic, and that were almost always right?
“Hey, Ma,” he said wearily, “do you want to come watch me race my motorcycle this weekend?”
He expected the lecture. Maybe he actually even craved it. He could feel much better about the mess his relationship with Maggie was in, if all women were the same. If they all nagged and worried unnecessarily, and manipulated to get their own way. His mother’s reaction to the invite could serve as a great reminder that he was lucky Maggie was not returning his calls. He was lucky he was still free. Lucky to still be his own man, with no one and nothing to answer to.
But his mother did not get with the program. “Why, I’d be delighted!” she shocked him by answering.
He went to Morgan’s once, hoping he might see Maggie there, even though he knew the possibility was beyond remote. Rhonda asked where she was, and then said, out of the blue, “You got a thing for her, Luke?”
“No!” he growled.
But Rhonda had smiled that annoying little female smile that said she knew something that he didn’t know.
Race day arrived, and Luke was frazzled, but glad to be here. There was nothing that required intensity of focus so much as climbing dirt hills and sliding around tight corners on a powerful bike. The concentration required to ride a race like this would be a total reprieve from his own Maggie-induced insanity.
He unloaded his bike from the trailer behind his truck. He began to don gear, checked over the bike.
“Hey, Luke!”
He turned in surprise. Billy was behind him in his wheelchair. Pushing it was Nurse Nightmare, looking very out of place in high-waisted jeans and a primly buttoned blouse.
“Hey, buddy.” He went over and high-fived the boy. He could feel his heart beating fast. “How’d you hear about this?”
“Maggie,” Billy said.
Maggie. It confirmed what Luke had thought as soon as he had seen the boy. She was the only reason Billy would be here.
She had forgiven him. Luke just knew it. She had forgiven him and come to watch, and brought Billy with her.
She had accepted who he was. She’d been mulling it over for the better part of a week and reached her conclusion. Now she was here to cheer him on!
The relief he felt was immense. Relief mingled with amazement and wonder and gratitude. Did she love him after all? Was there hope? His life seemed to be going from black and white to full blazing color at the very thought. He had not realized the full extent of his agony until this happened, a promise it was going to be over soon, a hope that it might all turn out all right after all.
Brian had been right. It was a roller-coaster ride. His mother had been right. Rhonda had been right. Luke needed her. Wanted her. He looked around, his heart on fire for wanting to see her.
But he didn’t see her, and doubt began to cloud the momentary euphoria he had felt. If Maggie had brought Billy, why was Nurse Wagner here with him?
“Uh, where is Maggie?” Luke asked.
Billy shrugged. “She said I’d see her here.” He turned his attention toward a commotion going on down by the announcer’s booth.
Luke looked over, too. A cluster of riders—most of the men he recognized as seasoned racers on this circuit—had formed a circle around a rider he didn’t recognize.
No wonder the fuss. She was fully outfitted for a motocross race, filling out her leather pretty nicely. She was wearing the red number that designated riders in the novice division.
The guys were high-fiving her as if they were her pit crew. Nigel Henderson was probably the best
racer on this circuit, and Luke couldn’t ever remember him making a fuss over a novice, not even a female one. Leo himself pushed to the center of the circle of boisterous bikers and wrapped a brawny arm around her shoulder.
“Is she ready or what?” he bellowed.
The guys gathered around her responded with the enthusiasm of Romans waiting for the gladiators to enter the Colosseum.
The female rider ducked her head, tugged at the chinstrap of her helmet, and then pulled it off, setting free a cascade of hair.
Luke felt his heart stop when the rider shook her head and that rich blond hair spilled out from under the helmet and over the padding on her shoulders.
“Oh, no,” he whispered.
By chance, she turned and looked toward him. The last time he had seen her that flushed with happiness she had been naked in his arms.
There was no doubt about it. It was his one true love. It was Maggie.
Eleven
Luke crossed the distance between him and Maggie in about three long strides. He ignored the protests of the fan club clustered around her when he found it necessary to put them, none too gently, out of his way.
She saw him coming toward her and her face lit up. It was as if the sun came out in a world that had been doomed to gray.
But he could not let her worm into his heart just like that!
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he demanded when he finally reached her. He folded his arms over his chest and gazed down at her.
Her expression turned from warmly welcoming to mutinous in a split second.
“Pardon?” she said snootily.
“You heard me.”
“I’m racing in the novice division today,” she said. “Leo and I have been working on it all week. Haven’t we, Leo?”
“Darned right,” Leo said, eyeing Luke stubbornly and folding his own arms over his rather massive chest. He was aging, but he still looked tough as nails and had all the tattoos to prove it. “You got something to say about that?”
“It’s between me and Maggie,” Luke said.
“Leo’s my coach,” she told him, “and you are not the boss over me, Luke August.”
