“When he left here, he said he was heading back to Tupelo Hill. He’s trying to help Sam figure out her next move. Did you call him?”
“Not yet. He probably won’t pick up if it’s me.”
“Jesus, this feels like high school all over again.” He hit the speaker button on his desk phone. “I think you’re underestimating him, but let’s try him.”
After two rings, Jay picked up. “Hey.”
“My man,” Grif said. “I’m here with Maggie.”
A long silence filled the line. Yep, definitely still mad at her, but she’d be the bigger person here. The not so high-maintenance one. “Hi, Jay,” she said.
“Hi.”
Oh, ouch. Could he have been any more curt? For this, she’d keep it to business. At some point, hopefully, he’d become the reasonable man Grif assured her he was and talk to her on a more personal level.
“Mags has an update for you. If you’d rather talk to her one-on-one, I’ll leave the office.”
“I’m good,” he said, still with the curt.
Grif held his hand to her.
“Thank you. Jay, the handwriting expert believes your signature was forged.”
“I said that.”
“I know, but having an expert verify it helps. He did say he didn’t think the small sample from the Celebrate Hope checks would hold up in court, but with luck this won’t get to that point. Now, the conversation this morning you overheard part of was Cam telling me he was unable to get a match on the video we provided. Our guy isn’t in the criminal database, but I have another idea. If you’re amenable to it, we can get a warrant for the databases of genealogy companies.”
“Genealogy? I don’t understand.”
“Yes. The larger genealogy sites offer DNA analysis so people can determine their lineage. They’re private databases, though, and we’d need a warrant to access them. That means making an official request. And since the shooter was in Steele Ridge, the incident occurred in my jurisdiction. I can request the warrant.”
When Jayson didn’t respond, Grif met her eye. “Jay,” he said, “Mags’ll work with us on keeping this as quiet as possible.”
“What about all the people who’d be involved at the genealogy companies? Someone, somewhere will leak it.”
“It’s a possibility,” Maggie said. “You have to be willing to risk it.”
Another long silence ensued. She’d pushed it on the warrant. Knew it. He’d lost his mind over her posing a hypothetical to Cam. Officially requesting a warrant would be out of the question.
Grif checked the phone’s screen. “You there?”
“Yeah. I’m here. I don’t know, Grif. Let me think about it. This embezzlement thing involves Sam, too. She’s already worried about finding another job. If this goes public, she’s screwed.”
* * *
Seven hours of thought—and misery—brought Jay to Maggie’s doorstep. Where he might or might not be welcome. Dumb-ass.
He glanced at his watch for the hundredth time: 8:10. Not late. Definitely not late enough to turn chickenshit and run.
Plus, there was a classic Ford Bronco, obviously fully restored, sitting in the driveway and he wanted to know who the fuck that belonged to.
Granted, neither of them should be happy with how the exchange—eh-hem, argument— went down in her office, and yeah, he probably overreacted, which translated to the whole damned thing being his fault.
But if she had a guy inside this house, his fault or not, he’d lose his shit altogether.
He knocked, then stepped back, forcing away visuals of Maggie bent over her bed with other men. Nope, nope, nope. Not going there.
A minute later the door swung open and there she was. In the doorway in workout shorts and a yoga top that revealed the tight abs she worked so hard for. Already his body reacted. No matter what happened between them, something told him, he’d fantasize about Maggie for a good long time.
Fix this.
“Hi,” he said. “Before you slam the door, can we talk?”
A few hairs had flown free of her ponytail and she tucked them behind her ears before waving him in. “I wasn’t planning on slamming the door. Come in.”
A dude in a long-sleeved T-shirt and hiking pants sat at her breakfast bar with an open pizza box in front of him. His hair was the color of whisky, but with random light streaks shot through it. The golden retriever lying at his feet rose to a sitting position.
“Stay, Puck,” the dude said.
Puck. Great name for a dog.
The guy stood and held out his hand. “I’m Shep.”
Shep. Maggie’s brother. The outdoorsy one. She’d talked about him the other night. Now, with Jay’s overactive and fatigued mind nudged, he recognized the Kingston family resemblance.
Jay shook his hand. “Jayson Tucker. Good to meet you.”
“We, uh,” Shep pointed at the door, “were just heading out.”
There it was. The excuse Jay needed to turn chickenshit and avoid an uncomfortable conversation with Maggie. “No,” he said. “I’ll go. I should have called.”
“It’s all right,” Maggie said, her voice carrying a sharp edge. “He said five minutes ago he had to leave. He’s taking a group hiking in the morning and it’s an early one. Shep, take the pizza with you. It’ll spoil if you leave it here.”
Her brother closed the pizza box, making sure to tuck the cover in before sliding it off the counter. “Thanks, Mags. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” He nodded at Jayson. “Have a good night.”
“You too.”
Maggie showed her brother and Puck to the door while Jay stood in her living room. He wouldn’t take it upon himself to sit. After their run-in earlier, he’d wait for the invitation.
“Sorry to bust in on you,” Jay said.
She flipped the lock on the door and walked toward him. “It’s not a problem. I’d say if it was. Besides, I’d like to clear the air. Have a seat.”
Phew. He slid onto the stool Shep had just vacated and waited for Maggie to take the one next to him. He’d had all day to rehearse a plea and somehow he hadn’t managed to come up with one decent argument for his behavior.
“Jay—”
“No.” He reached for her, touched her arm lightly, and felt the ping of relief when she didn’t pull away. “Don’t say anything yet. Please. I thought about you all afternoon and I think—I know—I overreacted. I…never mind. No excuse. I’m sorry. I was out of line. You were doing your job and trying to help. I shouldn’t have jumped all over you.”
She sat for a full thirty seconds, first tilting her head one way, then the other, obviously deciding on a course of action. “A couple of things,” she said. “This is the second time you’ve surprised me with an apology before I’ve had a chance to say anything. I appreciate the apology, but in the future please don’t interrupt. Let me finish. Okay?”
He nodded.
“Good. Now, I agree that you could have given me the opportunity to explain myself, but I’m on the hook for part of this, too. After a conversation with my mother, I realized I may have overstepped with asking Cam about the charity. Even if I did pose it as a hypothetical, this is technically out of my jurisdiction, so I should have confirmed with you before I did anything, and should have realized that he’d connect the dots. I’m sorry. Truly, I never meant to—or would I want to—hurt you. Ever.”
He shifted the hand still on her arm and intertwined their fingers. “Me neither. Look, Maggie, straight out, I’m a goner when it comes to you. Physically and emotionally and that’s new. You’re smart and funny and beautiful and I can’t get enough. Which makes me want to tell you things I tend to not share. With anyone. Thinking about you repeating those things fried my mind.”
She looked down at their intertwined hands and squeezed before bringing her gaze back to his. “Thank you. You have no idea how much of a compliment that is coming from you. Looking back on it, I see why I upset you. I think we’re figuring each other out. Learning
the hot buttons. In the process, I’ve learned some things about myself I need to change. Which really makes me mad at you. Before you appeared I never psychoanalyzed myself. Now? That’s all I do.”
He laughed. “Sure. Blame that on me, too. Why not?”
She waved it off. “It’s my own fault. I shouldn’t be so ready to get up in everyone’s business. From now on, I’ll talk to you before making any inquiries.”
God, that’s all he wanted. A discussion. To not be forced into something he couldn’t control. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“I talked to my accountant earlier. He confirmed what I said about not receiving any payments from Celebrate Hope. The endorsed checks they have are bogus.”
She high-fived him. “Yes! Excellent.”
“Yeah. And about this DNA test, I talked to Sam. She’s okay with it.”
Maggie’s eyebrows lifted. “What about you?”
“I think it sucks. If the reasons behind it get leaked, I can kiss any and all endorsement deals good-bye. Nobody wants a pitchman involved in embezzlement.”
“But if the test’ll get us answers and clear you—”
“I’ll suck it up. I trust you, Maggie. I know you’ll do right by us. I’ve been holding secrets so long, it’s an automatic reaction for me. My brain screams hide, hide, hide. It’s so goddamned exhausting.”
She leaned in a little. Ran her free hand through his short hair, then down his cheek, gently rubbing her knuckles over his beard, and her touch, that gentle connection, gave him an odd feeling of peace. Maggie Kingston had turned his world upside down.
And right now, he didn’t mind. He might even like the emotional intimacy he’d been lacking for…hell…maybe forever.
“Maybe it’s time to stop hiding,” she said. “You might be surprised by the results.”
Could he do it? Lay his demons out there for public fodder? “I’ve always been afraid to admit I was an abused kid. Like people would think less of me. I mean, the big, bad quarterback who couldn’t defend himself against his own mother?”
“You were a kid. What were you supposed to do? Hit her back? You’re not a violent man.”
“After the Webb incident, I don’t think people will believe that.”
“I think if you start being honest about what happened in that locker room, they might.”
“What if reporters start digging and find out part of this mess involves Webb abusing his wife? I couldn’t give a shit about him, but his wife and kids don’t deserve it.”
Maggie scooted to the edge of her seat, moving close enough to slide her leg between his, sending that intimacy up another notch.
“It’s not about him. It’s about you being honest. If the locker room incident comes up, you say it was a personal issue that got out of hand. At the very least, he needs to be dealt with for setting up that illegal hit. We have my recording of your phone call with him. He all but admitted it. And I guarantee if we downloaded his texts, we’d see something suspect. That might just be my jaded mind, though.”
“You think I should pursue it?”
“I think you should threaten to pursue it. You’ve been so busy running from this thing, I think it’s time you take the offensive.” She nudged his leg. “My hunky quarterback.”
He’d give her a hunky quarterback. He set his free hand on her leg, let it travel a little higher so she knew exactly where his mind had gone. “I never thought about it that way.”
Her gaze moved to his hand and she pursed her lips for a second. “Stop distracting me. Believe me, you’ll get lucky tonight, but we need to finish this first.”
“Damn.”
She laughed. “You’re too used to covering up. I know it’s easy for me to say, I’m not the one with reporters tailing me. I’ll support whatever decision you make, but I’m giving you the flip side. The one that has you on the offensive for a change, going after people bent on destroying you.”
“Do it.”
“Do what?”
“The genealogy thing. I’ll pay whatever the lab fees are. Maybe we’ll get a hit this time. It’s worth a try, right?”
“Exactly.”
“And, hold on to your gun belt, babe, but if I wanted to go after Celebrate Hope, how would that work?”
Maggie fanned herself. “Now you’re getting me all hot. What do you mean, go after them?”
How cute was she? He rolled one hand. “If we’re going on the offensive, I need to get ahead on this embezzlement thing. The league and Celebrate Hope don’t want this out there any more than I do. Let’s swing back. Make them nervous.”
“The charity is headquartered in South Carolina and that’s out of my jurisdiction. We could take it to the FBI.”
“Grif’s cousin.”
“I don’t know. He works out of DC and what he’s done for us so far has been on the downlow. Cases are usually opened based on geography, so the FBI’s Columbia field office would more than likely handle that. We can call Cam and ask, though.”
“Let’s feel it out. See what he says.”
“At the risk of this sounding condescending, I’m proud of you. You’re about to do something that goes against everything you’ve practiced for years. It can’t be easy.”
A disembowelment with a dull knife would hurt less, but for freedom, for a life free of constant hiding and secrets, he’d do it. He didn’t even know what that life would look like, but he wanted to try. “I’ll probably puke my guts out tonight, but what I’ve been doing isn’t working anymore. And when it’s not working, you change the play. Thank you.”
“Hey, I’m not the one about to spill my life to the voracious public. You did this all on your own.”
“Not true. You got me there. Your strength and your damned persistence.”
She smiled. “Family trait.”
“Don’t I know it? In this case it’s a good one.”
She stood and wrapped her arms around him. “I’m glad. All I want is to make sure you’re okay.”
“God, Maggie, you’re…special. You see everything. You strip someone bare and make it feel normal. It’s a gift.”
“It’s not hard when you listen.”
“You’re different. You don’t need anger to feel powerful. You get your power from your brain and I want that in my life.” He held on to her, squeezing even more and kissing the bare skin of her shoulder where the strap of her top ended. “I want you.”
* * *
Jayson’s words floated around in Maggie’s mind. Every excuse she’d had for not believing this relationship would be any more than a fling seemed to disappear. Could they do it? Make a long-distance relationship work?
Between her long hours and being accustomed to life on her own, it might not be all that much different than what she was used to. During the season, she’d have to juggle her schedule, but if he wanted this to work, he’d have to spend time in Steele Ridge in the off-season.
“I’d like that,” she said. “Logistically, it’ll be a challenge.”
“A lot of people make it work. Some guys are married to actresses who live on the West Coast. And I’d spend time here in the off-season. You’re here, Grif’s here. It makes sense.”
She backed away, met his eye to make sure he wasn’t caught up in the moment. That he was serious and not just telling her what she needed to hear. “You’d do that?”
“I grew up in New York and my career was there, but that’s changed now. I never stopped long enough to figure out if I even wanted to be there.” He smiled. “Right now, North Carolina looks pretty good. What do you say? Can we try it? See where this thing goes?”
Yes.
She wanted to say it. Let the word fly right off her tongue, but they had to be reasonable about this or one of them—more than likely her—could wind up devastated. “If you get picked up by a team out west, that’s a long flight for me during the season. My schedule isn’t constructed for long weekends. I have responsibilities.”
&nb
sp; “I know. And, yeah, that’d be hard. I’d want you at the games, but I get it.”
“I could do some. Not all.”
“I’ll take what I can get.”
“What about Sam? Where does she want to wind up?”
“She moved to South Carolina for the job. She wanted to get out of New York. When this mess gets sorted out, she’ll go back to South Carolina and figure her next steps. If I’m spending time here, she might stay close. There’s no pressure there, though. We’re used to being in different places. She knows I’m here for her if she needs me.”
The man had answers for everything. Darned good ones, to boot.
All they could do was try. Little more than a week ago, when Jay rolled into town with his slick smile and media circus, she wouldn’t have considered it. The hotshot football star and the country sheriff. It still might be a disaster in the making. When he came within ten feet of her, though, something happened. Something light and warm and…comforting. And that was saying a lot for a girl who usually cared for everyone else.
She kissed him, let her lips linger over his while he pulled her closer and ran his hands over her hips, pulling her tight against him.
He wanted her. She wanted him.
Easy.
“Let’s do it,” she said. “I think we’d be really good together.”
“I don’t think, I know. You get me. You call me on my bullshit and you definitely aren’t afraid to hang in for the ugly stuff.” He laughed. “I got a lot of ugly stuff.”
Ugly stuff and all, this was where she wanted to be.
* * *
Jay rounded the side of the building for his morning workout and found Reid in his normal spot on the picnic bench, a cup of Miss Joan’s coffee cradled in his hand. Everything about his appearance, right down to the sneakers he wore, was typical Reid. Only today, Grif was in attendance, as usual dressed to impress. The two spoke in hushed tones that immediately set Jay on edge.
Enough time had been spent with this family to know that if Grif carried good news, he’d be more animated—even at 6:30 in the morning—and trading insults with Reid.
Craving Heat Page 24
