by Lee McKenzie
“I’m not sure where Gerald is,” Leslie said. She took a quick look around the yard. “I haven’t seen him in a while.”
“Maybe he’s helping John,” Maggie said. “Anyway, tell them both we said good-night.”
Nick really didn’t care where they were, he just wanted to get going. “Ready?” he asked.
Maggie nodded. “I sure am.” And if those smiling eyes were sending him a message, it was too dark to read it. But a guy could hope, couldn’t he?
Allison was watching them with open interest. “I hope you’re glad you joined us tonight, Nick.”
“I am. Thanks for inviting me. Us. It’s been great.”
And he meant it. The night had been full of surprises. Simon had invited him to play tennis on Wednesday. Martin asked him to drop by and take a look at his garage roof, which seemed to be leaking and then there was Jocelyn’s store renovation. Leslie had taken him aside to talk about her wedding and she’d asked him if he would walk her down the aisle. He was sure their mother would not be happy about it, but he accepted.
It had been an amazing evening, and it wasn’t over. He was about to take Maggie home and tell her what he thought about her cookies.
She looped her arm through his and they strolled across the backyard toward the gate, saying good-night to several people along the way. It surprised him that he felt so good about this. Confident. All these years he’d been so sure these people were looking down their noses at him. Turns out they hadn’t been thinking about him at all. And now that he’d reappeared, they seemed to accept him as he was.
He was about to open the gate for Maggie when she stopped. “I forgot my plate. I’ll be right back.” She dashed back to the serving tent.
Nick stepped into the shadows near the corner of the house and watched the crowd until a movement at the back door caught his attention. Gerald seemed to be doing his best to sneak out of the house, and he might have been successful if he hadn’t had so much to drink. Then Candice Bentley-Ferguson appeared right behind him, giggling and trying to straighten her mussed-up hair.
What on earth?
The two of them went their separate ways across the yard and Nick tried to convince himself that what he’d just seen was probably nothing. But what if it wasn’t?
He watched Gerald approach the table where Leslie was sitting. She glanced up with a smile, and he leaned down and dropped a casual kiss on the top of her head.
Okay. That was good. That meant he’d likely misinterpreted what he’d just seen.
Right?
Absolutely. Because if he believed that Gerald and Candice were messing around, then he’d be obligated to say something to Leslie. But Nick Durrance had a strict do-not-meddle policy and he’d really, really hate to have to deviate from it.
Maggie reappeared with her cookie plate tucked into the crook of her elbow. “Ready to go?”
He offered his arm. “Ready if you are.”
She linked her arm with his. “I’m ready.”
Since she only had to walk twenty yards, he couldn’t say why he felt the need to escort her to her front door.
It was obvious he wanted to kiss her. For that, he needed to get her away from Allison and Leslie and all those other curious eyes before he dared try.
Why? He’d never worried about anything like that before. If he wanted to kiss a woman, he kissed her. And he had a good track record. Not once, ever, had he been rebuffed.
Maggie was different. She was sweet and funny and totally unpredictable. If he made a move that took her by surprise, she’d be just as likely to let him have it as let him have his way.
Also, there were his old friends, who seemed to have some newfound respect for him. He couldn’t say exactly why it was important, but he didn’t want to mess that up.
And then he and Maggie were standing on her front steps and he wasn’t sure that kissing her was such a good idea, anyway.
Starting tomorrow, he’d be here every day, working for her. But right now those dark brown eyes were holding him hostage and tomorrow seemed a very long time away.
Maggie turned to face him, her back to the door.
He moved closer and she stood her ground.
He was way overthinking this. “I want to kiss you,” he said.
She ran her hand along his arm. “I’d like that.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really.”
“You want to know something?”
“What?”
“This is the first time I’ve ever asked a woman if I could kiss her.”
“Did my answer surprise you?”
Yes. No. “A little.”
“You know what surprises me?” she asked.
“What?”
“You’ve asked if you can kiss me and I’ve said yes, but you’re still talking.”
He took her face in his hands lowered his head till her lips were only a breath away. “Are you saying I’m all talk and no action?”
“Yes.” She laughed. “That’s what I’m saying.”
Well, they couldn’t have that, now could they? He kept his gaze on hers and took his time making contact. She kept her eyes open, too, and he liked that. He brushed his mouth lightly over hers and pulled back a little.
Her eyes went wide. “That was it? You call that a kiss?”
He liked that she could be playful without being coy. “What did you have in mind?”
“A little more effort.” She curled her fingers around his biceps and he found himself hoping she was impressed. “You didn’t even try.”
He thought of her poring over his high-school yearbooks and all of a sudden he didn’t feel so sure of himself. He remembered nice girls like Maggie. They were never the topic of testosterone-driven, locker-room bragfests because guys like him never went out with them. Looking back, it was more likely that they avoided guys like him.
His locker-room nickname had been “Hit Man.” He hadn’t thought about that in years, and for good reason. He’d been proud of it at the time but looking back...
He’d needed a good swift kick in the behind.
He wasn’t a teenage Don Juan anymore and Maggie wasn’t the pretty-but-shy wallflower dating a guy in the chess club. She was a very grown-up, very beautiful woman and she wanted him to kiss her.
He could definitely put some effort into that.
This time he waited until her eyes fluttered shut before he covered her mouth with his.
He eased back. “Maggie?”
Her eyelids went up halfway. “Mmm-hmm?”
He tried to catch his breath. “Did I get an A for effort that time?”
“A-plus.” Her lips were a little fuller and a little redder, and when she ran her tongue over them, he wanted to kiss her all over again.
“Any chance you want to earn some bonus marks?” she asked.
“It’s tempting but I’m kind of concerned about how we’re going to work together after this.”
With a little smile, she touched her fingers to her lips, then his. “I have a feeling we’re going to work very well together.”
Then she let herself inside and closed the door, leaving him alone on her front porch. Letting her go that easily was a first for him, too.
* * *
MAGGIE CLOSED THE DOOR and did a little dance down the hallway to the kitchen.
Yes!
Yes, yes, yes!
She twirled around and flopped into a chair, then she jumped to her feet again and twirled some more.
Yes!
If she was never kissed again, it wouldn’t matter.
Ha. Who was she kidding? She’d been born to be kissed by Nick Durrance.
Tonight had gone well, she decided after mustering up a little perspective. In spite of Nick’s reluctance to go to Allison’s barbecue and his lack of confidence around family and old friends, he’d done just fine. And his self-confidence would gradually increase, she was sure of it. Until he didn’t need her at all.
She replayed th
e kiss again. It would be nice if he still needed her, but just for different reasons.
Very personal reasons.
She hugged herself at the delicious thought of being personally needed by Nick Durrance.
In less than ten hours, he would be back to start construction. “I hope you don’t mind me doing this, Aunt Margaret. This is a dream come true for me.”
I’d say a few dreams came true tonight.
Maggie laughed. “I was talking about opening the spa, you sly old woman!” Making out with Nick was an unexpected bonus. “And you shouldn’t have been spying on us.”
I was not spying on you, young lady. Any fool could figure out what made you come whirling in here the way you did. Then she chuckled. I say, good for him.
Aunt Margaret had always assured her that someday the right man would come along and sweep her off her feet. He wouldn’t love her in spite of her being an intuitive free spirit. He’d love her because of it.
“Is he the one you were talking about, Aunt Margaret?”
Silence.
“This is so typical.” Her aunt had always been quick with the assurance and advice but disappeared when it was time to answer the hard questions.
“Are you going to answer my question?”
Still nothing.
“Fine, then, if that’s how you want to be. But I love you, and I’ll always be grateful for the chance to open my spa and help people.”
Knowing Aunt Margaret, she’d turn up again when she was least expected. And the least helpful.
* * *
THE NEXT MORNING Nick and his crew—which turned out to be one other person—were twenty minutes early. Maggie met them at the front door. “Hi.”
“Hi, yourself,” Nick said. “We’re a little early. I hope that’s okay.”
“Of course.”
After last night’s kiss, she’d wondered how she’d react to seeing him again—and how he’d react to her—but the man standing next to Nick on the front porch provided all the distraction they needed to get past that. And then some.
“This is Brent,” he said. “He works for me.”
Brent held out his hand. “The last name’s Borden,” he said. “In case you ever need to look me up in the phone book.”
Maggie laughed and put her hand in his. “Nice to meet you.”
Brent held on. “You have no idea.”
Nick cleared his throat.
Brent grinned and let go. “I promised the boss I’d behave but it looks like I’m already in hot water.”
Maggie was going to enjoy this. Nick’s one-man crew was heartbreakingly handsome, although it only took a few seconds to figure out that he didn’t take anything—or anyone—seriously. Not even himself. He had his ball cap on backward and a belt buckle that appeared to double as a bottle opener. He reminded her of a big, boisterous puppy that was so adorable you didn’t mind when it peed on the kitchen floor. She smothered a giggle and wondered if she’d get to know Brent well enough to share that with him.
Brent smiled. “Nick says you’ll be spending a lot of time here during the construction.”
“Yes, I will, but I’ll try to stay out of your way as much as I can.”
“You can get in my way all you like. I don’t know about Nick, though.” Then he gave his boss a sideways glance. “Think you can handle the distraction?”
Nick was not amused, but he definitely looked uncomfortable. Probably because of the kiss.
Hmm. Another kiss might be the best antidote for that.
Definitely.
For now, she’d let herself be distracted by Brent’s outrageous flirting. His outgoing personality could fill up a room, although his good looks didn’t overshadow Nick’s, at least not in Maggie’s opinion.
“If you’re ready,” Nick said, “we’ll bring in our tools and get to work taking down that wall.”
Maggie took a long breath and one last look around. “I took some pictures this morning. You know, the ‘before’ pictures for my scrapbook.”
“Good idea,” Nick said.
“Scrapbook?” Brent asked.
“Nick gave me a beautiful scrapbook to keep a record of the renovations. I’ll put it on display when the spa opens.”
“I didn’t know that was company policy, but it’s a good one.” Brent gave Nick a playful jab in the shoulder. “Always thinking, this guy. Guess that’s why he’s the boss and I just do what I’m told.”
Nick glared at him. “Since you’re so good at it, how ’bout you bring in those tools?”
“Yes, sir.” Brent winked at Maggie, gave Nick a mock salute and sprinted down the steps, tripping on the loose tread on the second step. He caught himself before he hit the ground, then spun around and grinned up them. “I think I’d better fix that before somebody gets hurt.”
Nick rolled his eyes. “He needs to worry about more than the front steps.”
Maggie smiled as she watched Brent hoist a couple of toolboxes out of the back of the truck. “He’s very...energetic.”
“And mostly harmless, although I try to keep him on a short leash.”
She laughed and added a leash to her big-boisterous-puppy image of Brent.
“Glad you find him amusing but if he starts to get on your nerves, let me know.”
“I’m sure we’ll get along just fine.”
Nick’s eyes went narrow. “Yeah, well, just watch out. He can be a bit of a...” He shook his head.
“What?”
“Nothing.” He turned away to check on Brent’s progress with the toolboxes.
Nothing, indeed. It was kind of sweet that Nick didn’t want him flirting with her. She smiled. A few days ago she wouldn’t have hesitated to engage in a little harmless flirtation with a man like Brent. Now she had other things on her mind.
“Don’t worry about me. I know his type. He’s probably an Aquarius.”
Nick shrugged. “You’ve got me.”
“When’s his birthday?”
“I’m pretty sure it’s the end of January.”
Maggie grinned. “That’s Aquarius, all right. You can spot them a mile away.”
Nick stared at her. “How do you do that?”
“What?”
“Figure people out so easily. You can tell when a total stranger was born. You always manage to say exactly what people want to hear.”
“Yes, well, sometimes I tell them things they don’t want to hear. I’m still learning when it’s okay to say what’s on my mind and when to keep it to myself.”
“If you ever figure it out, I know a few people who would benefit from that lesson.”
“To answer your question, I’m not sure. Aunt Margaret always said I have a gift. It’s taken me a long time to understand what that means—and I’m not sure I do, completely—but I see things that people would rather I didn’t. I can see what makes them unhappy, even when they can’t see it themselves, and I can help them fix it.”
Nick looked skeptical. “You sound like my family.”
She didn’t really believe he meant that, but she’d better not say any more in case he got suspicious. “Really? You think I’m like your family?”
He looked confused. “No, of course not. You’re nothing like my family.”
Brent plunked two toolboxes on the front porch. “Thank heavens for that. When you meet his family, you’ll know what I mean.”
“I met Leslie at Allison’s barbecue last night. She seemed very nice, and it was good to see that she and Nick get along so well.”
Nick and Brent exchanged looks.
“Are you sure we’re talking about the same person?” Brent asked. “Nick’s sister? Leslie Durrance?”
“Of course. She’s delightful. After Nick told her what a beautiful bride she’s going to be, she said she was looking forward to seeing both of us again at the wedding. Isn’t that right?”
Nick agreed. “Yeah, actually, that’s pretty much the way it happened.”
“Get out of town! Leslie said
she was looking forward to seeing you at the wedding?”
Nick and Maggie both nodded.
“But she gave you a lecture, right? Told you what to wear? How to behave? How not to behave?”
Nick and Maggie shook their heads.
“Get out of town,” Brent said again.
“In fact, before we left the party last night, she asked me if I’d walk her down the aisle.”
“Get out of—”
Nick reached for one of the toolboxes. “Enough already. We’re staying in town and I think it’d be a good idea if we got to work.”
Maggie laughed.
Brent grabbed the handle of the other toolbox. “She really asked you to walk her down the aisle?”
“Yes.”
“And your mother’s okay with that?”
Nick shrugged. “You know something? I really don’t care.”
Brent’s reaction to all of this was interesting, to say the least. So was Nick’s. It was as though neither of them could believe that something positive could happen in Nick’s family. But anything was possible, and Maggie wondered how long it would take Nick to figure that out.
* * *
TWO HOURS INTO the renovation, Maggie thought she’d go mad if she had to listen to another minute of the sound of hammers pounding and plaster falling and wood splintering. Even worse, she was having second thoughts—serious second thoughts—which was not like her at all.
Was this the right thing to do? What if this wasn’t what Aunt Margaret had in mind when she’d left her house and all her money to Maggie?
But Aunt Margaret was not to be heard this morning. Which could only mean one of two things. Either the noise was too much for her, too, or she’d gone off in a huff.
Maggie ran upstairs and grabbed her bag. “I’ll be back in a while,” she yelled at Nick and Brent.
Acknowledgment came in the form of a brief nod from Nick as he made way for Brent, who was carrying a couple of discarded two-by-fours on his shoulder.
Maggie ducked beneath them and headed out the front door. She walked down the block and got all the way to the corner before the sounds of demolition faded. She turned the corner and crossed the street to Donaldson’s Deli.
The door jangled when she pushed it open and old Mr. Donaldson, who stood behind the counter slicing salami, glanced up at her. “G’morning, Maggie. I see you’ve started the work on your aunt’s place.”
