Spring Into Love

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Spring Into Love Page 118

by Chantel Rhondeau


  “Glad to hear it.”

  “I was wondering, would you have time to meet with me to talk about the inheritance I got from Daddy? I want to know what your plans are for the money.”

  “I…yeah, sure.”

  “I’m not interrupting your plans with Felicity, am I?” she asked.

  “No.” He said nothing else.

  When was he going to tell her that he had broken up with Felicity? Maggie huffed. Sometimes, getting simple facts, never mind the truth, out of Drew was worse than a root canal procedure. What on Earth was he hoarding facts for?

  “Same time, same place, tomorrow?” she asked.

  “Yeah. I’ll see you there.”

  Maggie hung up. She tapped the smartphone against her cheek, and a slow smile spread across her face. Drew, my darling. Your life is about to change.

  Chapter 12

  Drew tried to hold his breath, but the smell of roast pork buns emanated through the paper bag to assault his nose and turn his stomach. The confined space of the elevator only seemed to heighten the stench, and he was grateful when the elevator door opened and the concentrated smell dissipated.

  Maggie had not yet arrived, which was surprising. She wasn’t just punctual; she was usually early. He took a seat at their usual table and ordered a black coffee for himself and Maggie’s usual green tea for her. He set the paper bag of pork buns on the farthest possible side of the table from him.

  Drew turned on his tablet and checked the social media feeds. A week after Tyler posted Maggie’s sex video, and three days after Drew had posted Tyler’s confession, the furor was finally dying down. Public attention span was too short to stay focused on a scandal that had resolved to its satisfaction. As a result of his confession video, Tyler was a pariah, but even that wouldn’t last long. Apparently, Maggie had chosen not to pursue charges against Tyler; Drew wondered how long it had taken Maggie to talk Brandon down from that path.

  Probably not long. Few men could say no to Maggie. Drew was not thrilled to count himself among them, but he was done. Talking to Tyler had driven home one unarguable point—Maggie’s history of using and discarding men. Maggie had said that she loved him, but he had no reason to believe that his luck would be any better than the countless men she had dated.

  He saw no reason to walk down the path of inevitable heartbreak just to indulge Maggie’s fancy that she was in love with him. Leaving aside even her father’s disapproval of him, Maggie had a child’s infatuation, and they were both no longer children. It was long past time for the both of them to grow up and face the facts: They could never be anything more than friends.

  The elevator door opened, and Maggie walked out in a white dress he had never seen her wear before. The flowing material dipped low between her breasts, hugged her tiny waist, and ended in an uneven hem that it made her look like a dryad stepping out of a fairy tale. She flashed a smile as she caught sight of him and made her way over to the table. Her four-inch stilettos did not hinder her sexy strut.

  “Hello, Drew.” She leaned down, flashed him a glimpse of the curve of her breasts, and brushed a kiss over his lips. “For me?” The seductive smile of the siren became the genuinely delighted smile of a child at Christmas as she seized the paper bag of roast pork buns. Drew ground his teeth. How was he not supposed to love a woman who could effortlessly captivate him with all her flashing moods?

  Love, he reminded himself, wasn’t the issue. No one objected to him loving her; he just had to not get involved with her.

  In lieu of hello, he asked brusquely, “You wanted to talk about your inheritance and your investments?” It was best to keep her focused on the money conversation.

  Maggie pouted—and managed to look stunning doing so—as she slid into the seat across from him. She broke off a piece of the bun and slid it between her red lips.

  Drew tried not to stare. “Maggie.”

  “Yes?” she drawled. Her smile was innocent, but her eyes were knowing.

  His groin tightened. Damn it, she was doing it deliberately. He jerked his gaze up to hers. “Don’t.”

  “Don’t what, Drew?”

  “Don’t play with me. I don’t deserve it.”

  Maggie stared at him. She huffed out an exasperated breath, and in an instant, the coyly flirtatious woman disappeared. Seated across from him was his familiar friend of ten years, the one who didn’t know her checking account password, but who lived and loved with a vivacity that took his breath away. “Fine. You’re a spoilsport, you know that? What’s wrong with a little fun and games?”

  I don’t want to get hurt. “I don’t have time for fun and games. I thought you wanted to talk about your investments?”

  “Yes.” Her lighthearted mood gave way to seriousness. “That Tyler fiasco taught me something. I do need stable income sources that have nothing to do with modeling. My career could all go away in a heartbeat, the way your…” She bit her lip and looked away.

  “The way my what?” he asked, pleased that he managed to keep his voice even. “The way my accident ended my football career?”

  “You didn’t have any backup plans.”

  “No, I didn’t, but I finished my degree and got a job. In the end, it turned out fine.”

  “Really?”

  “It could have been worse, Maggie. So much worse.”

  A frown tugged at the corners of her mouth. “I still remember what happened after the hospital discharged you and sent you home.”

  He shook his head. Most of the time, he tried not to think back to his accident. “Those weren’t my best days.”

  “You looked like something in you had died.”

  Something in him had died. Many things, in fact. His sense of invulnerability. His professional football career. His worthiness as a possible match for Maggie. His ability to walk without pain. Suddenly, Drew had to know. He blurted out the question he had wanted to ask for ten years. “Why did you come to visit me? Day after day, when I did nothing except stare at the window, wishing I’d died in the accident, why did you come?”

  “Because I wanted to,” Maggie said. Her eyes were distant, as if lost in memory. “I thought that if I could make you smile and laugh again, it would be worth something.”

  Drew chuckled at the bittersweet memory. “You talked so much; I would have thrown you out of my room if I could get out of bed.”

  Maggie giggled. “Probably just as well you couldn’t.”

  “And reading aloud from the joke book? It was painful.”

  She grimaced. “I didn’t know any jokes. I still don’t. You laughed, though. I know you did.”

  “Not enough to justify reading the entire book aloud from cover to cover. Twice.”

  “I read other books to you too.”

  “Silhouette Romances don’t count.”

  “Aww, come on. I should get partial credit for those, at least. What about the CDs and the video tapes I brought to you?”

  “The music helped,” he conceded. “Especially during physical therapy.”

  Maggie laughed. “You cursed a lot during PT. You don’t anymore.”

  “What?”

  “Your accident changed you. You became quieter, more restrained, harder to read.”

  “Really?”

  Maggie shrugged. “Well, it’s been ten years, so I guess the post-accident you is the real you now.”

  “I didn’t realize—”

  “How could something like that not change you?” Maggie asked. “Of course it would, and it did.”

  And it had changed him for the worse. No wonder Maggie’s father had warned him to stay away from her. The knowledge wrenched him, but he tried to steer the conversation back to safe ground. “We should talk about your investments.”

  “It made you a man,” Maggie continued, as if she hadn’t heard his attempt to change the topic. She met his gaze deliberately. “It taught you compassion and gave you grace and strength. Not physically, of course, but inside, where it really matters.”

&
nbsp; Drew stared at her. “Why are we talking about this now, Maggie?”

  “Because I think you ought to know why I love you.” She dropped the emotional bomb so casually she might have been talking about the weather. “Now, are we going to talk about my investments or not?”

  “That’s what I’ve been trying to do.” Drew struggled to focus his thoughts, but they seemed determined to mimic his skittering emotions. “Beyond investing in the stock market, you can do product endorsements, or go a step further to brand and market your own products.”

  “Like fashion and perfume?”

  He nodded. “You have a degree in fashion design from Parsons and a host of contacts in the industry. I’m no expert, but I’ve seen your designs, and I think they’re amazing. Perhaps one of the fashion houses will give you your own line to design and model.”

  “Why would Armani or Versace do something like that?”

  “The big brands probably wouldn’t, but a smaller fashion house trying to establish itself would see the value of taking on a designer who is also a model. It wouldn’t cost you anything, but a couple of phone calls and time, to send your designs around. The opportunity, if it pans out, could be amazing. Think about it, Maggie. You’ll gain experience on the design and production side of the industry, and you’ve got the marketing and selling side down cold.”

  Her eyes widened. “I could have my own fashion house one day.”

  “Exactly. You’ll need more capital to launch your own business, but if you give me five more years with your investments, I’ll get you there. In the meantime, you’ll pick up the experience you need to convince other investors to support your new venture.”

  “And I can do all this while modeling.”

  “To build your personal brand and the platform from which to launch your line and eventually your own business.”

  “Right.” Maggie dragged out the word. She searched his face. “You really think this will work, don’t you?”

  “As with all new businesses, there’s a bit of luck and serendipity involved, but it’s not rocket science. It’s been done before, by others.”

  “You’ll help me, won’t you? Not just with the investment stuff, but with the other things. I’ll do the calling and all the leg work, but I’m going to need someone to push me forward when common sense reasserts itself and accuses me of wishful thinking.”

  “It’s not wishful thinking, and yes, I’ll help.”

  Maggie smiled as she released a sigh. Her shoulders relaxed. “Do you ever say no to me, Drew?”

  Where you’re concerned, I say no to myself all the time.

  She looked at him. “Did you know that your non-answers are as telling as your answers?”

  He shrugged and put his tablet away.

  Maggie broke off another piece of the roast pork bun and popped it into her mouth. “I’m going to need lots of moral support. Daily. In person.”

  He stared at her.

  “And don’t bother using Felicity as an excuse. I stalk her on Facebook, and I know that a month ago, she changed her status from ‘in a relationship’ to ‘single.’”

  “What are you doing, Maggie?”

  “Trying to convince you that the world won’t end if you date me.” She flashed a dazzling smile.

  “We’re not suited for each other. You live a high-flying life in the spotlight. I’m just an ordinary guy. If you’re going through a ‘normal’ guy phase, fine, but you owe more to our friendship than to collect me as a notch on your totem pole.”

  “Ouch, that certainly put me in my place,” Maggie said, apparently unoffended. “What about the part where I said I love you? Doesn’t that count for something?”

  “You don’t know what I can and can’t give you.”

  “First.” Maggie ticked off the numbers on her fingers. “Love isn’t a goddamned balance sheet, unless you’re a financial advisor; in that case, then apparently it is. Second, if love is a balance sheet, and all I know are your positives right now, shouldn’t I have a chance to fully explore all the negatives too?”

  “Nothing’s going to come out of this, Maggie.”

  She scowled at him. “I’d like to make that decision for myself. All I’m asking for is a chance—the same kind of chance you’d apparently give to other women, but not to me even though we’ve been friends for ten years.” Her voice took on a challenging note. “Are you afraid you’ll realize you can’t live without me?”

  I figured that out years ago. “What do you want?”

  “Dinner and a movie, for starters. At your place.”

  ~*~

  Drew’s place was a one-bedroom apartment in a converted factory that offered beautiful brickwork and high ceilings, but not much of a view. It was, unquestionably, a bachelor’s pad, sparsely furnished and minimally personalized, but decked out with the latest in electronics and technology.

  Maggie allowed her gaze to travel across the breadth of the room. “Did you know that this is the first time you’ve invited me over?”

  “You invited yourself over,” Drew pointed out as he set down the pizza and salad they had picked up along the way.

  She tilted her head and forced a smile through the rapid thumping of her heart. “You’re not already regretting this, are you?”

  Drew looked at her. He breathed out a sigh. “We might both end up regretting this, but I won’t lie to you or insult you by telling you I don’t want you here.”

  Her heart soared. “Then perhaps you won’t mind if I jump ahead to what I really had in mind for the evening?”

  He gazed at her, saying nothing.

  She wished she could tease apart the nuances of his subtle changes of expression. She glimpsed regret and resignation, but there was love too—so much of it that it made her breath catch. Hope infused her whisper. “Drew?”

  He stepped forward, so close she could feel his body heat. He brushed back a silky lock of hair from the side of her face. “Whatever happens, we’ll stay friends.”

  Maggie winced at the quiet ache she heard in his voice. “Of course.”

  He lowered his lips to hers. Maggie closed her eyes and parted her lips for his kiss. “I’ve always wanted you,” he whispered into their shared breath.

  Somehow, she had always known it, yet his words unlocked a world of endless promise.

  She leaned into him. Her hands glided along the defined muscles of his abdomen. She pressed feather-soft kisses to his skin as she slid his shirt off his shoulders.

  He tensed, his breathing growing harsh.

  Delight coiled through her. His tacit surrender was a heady rush of power, and it gentled her touch. She had never strove longer or worked harder to seduce a man. The cost, literally, was in the hundreds of thousands of dollars if she included every dress, every accessory, and every piece of jewelry she had ever bought for the primary purpose of attracting his attention.

  In the end, all she needed to break through his defenses was to tell him, again and again, that she loved him.

  He was finally coming to her as her lover. Maggie sighed her surrender when Drew eased her onto the cool sheets. His hands and lips roved over her body, alternating long caresses with light nips. They lingered at her breasts and teased along the insides of her thighs, at the sensitive juncture where her legs joined her body, but never exactly where she wanted him most. Each passing touch stoked the fire inside her. She could smell her own desire moistening the sheets; she was wet and ready for him.

  He reached for the side drawer and pulled out a condom packet, but she wrenched it out of his hand. “Nothing between us,” she said before she pulled his head down for a kiss. “Now, give it to me hard and fast before I kill you for making me wait.”

  Drew laughed. The unrestrained sound of uncensored joy sent a wave of happiness through her. The glory of a love realized trumped even the lust clawing at her. She closed her eyes and sank into the kiss, parting her legs to the slight pressure of Drew’s shifting weight.

  Her body stretc
hed, welcoming him as Drew entered her until his full length was sheathed in her warmth. Oh, God, it felt wonderful to feel him inside her, filling her. The sense of completeness stunned her. The pressure in her chest was so intense that she had to wrap her arms around her chest to contain it.

  “Why are you crying?” he asked softly.

  She must look like a fool. Maggie swiped a tear away. “Nothing. It’s just that I’ve wanted you for so long.”

  Drew smiled.

  The tenderness in his eyes forced her to blink back more tears from her eyes, but one escaped to roll down her cheek.

  He captured the errant tear with a kiss. “No more crying,” he whispered. “You have me, for as long as you want me.” He laced his fingers in hers and pressed her hands down on either side of her head. He moved, a slow rhythm that teased and taunted her as he slid in and out of her. The fire of raw need that he had stoked burned hotter as she strained for the release that was just beyond her reach.

  She snarled at him. “Drew! Stop fucking around.”

  He laughed again. “But I thought that was what you wanted?” he teased her. He pulled out all the way, and then drove into her with such force her head almost slammed against the headboard.

  Maggie gasped, her toes curling with pleasure. She arched her hips off the bed, opening her willing body even further to him.

  He pounded into her, each stroke wrenching a shudder and a gasp from her, as he drove her ever closer to the precipice. She reached forward, straining for her release. He slammed into her, each stroke claiming more and more of her until she had nothing left to give.

  With a cry, she leapt over the edge.

  Like a tidal wave, her orgasm crashed over her, drowning her in ecstasy. She could no longer think, see, or hear; she could only feel. Her body clenched down hard, and Drew tensed against her as he found his release.

  When she surfaced, Drew caught her. He wrapped his arms around her and held her close. Their hearts beat in unison, the accelerated rhythm slowing into a steady pace. He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I’ll get a towel to clean you up.”

 

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