Staying Grounded (A Rocky Harbor Novel Book 1)

by Marianne Rice

  “Does that mean I get to sleep over?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

  ***

  Maggie

  She enjoyed being in the kitchen with him. Heck, she loved being in the shower, in her bed, against a wall with Graham. They teased each other as they prepared a late night dinner and when everything was finally ready, they sat thigh to thigh at her small kitchen table.

  “You’re right. You are a grill master.” Maggie sliced another tender piece of barbecue chicken and slid it into her mouth.

  “You have sauce on your face.” Graham leaned in and licked the corner of her mouth. He pulled back with a satisfied grin and continued to eat his meal.

  “That’s pretty cliché.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” His bright eyes danced with mischief.

  Maggie looked up to the ceiling and sighed. “Like I said. Insatiable. Do you have sex three times in one day with every woman?” She gasped as heat filled her cheeks. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that. It’s none of my business.” Standing abruptly, she picked up her plate and brought it to the sink to rinse. The last thing she needed was to come across as a jealous lover. Their affair was nothing more than sex, and whomever else he slept with was none of her business.

  Graham came up behind her and rested his arms on either side of her body, trapping her between him and the sink. Shaking his head slowly, he whispered her name. “Turn around and look at me, Maggie.” She lifted her gaze to his and bit her lip. “I have never had sex three times in one day.” Graham kissed her lightly on her lips. “And never thought it possible to do in less than five hours.” He kissed her again. This time she opened her mouth and his tongue entered, swirling around hers in a seductive dance.

  Maggie’s heart raced and her toes curled as she leaned into the kiss. Into Graham. He filled her with a lust so deep and dark she never thought it would be possible outside romantic fiction. Was this how her mom felt about her dad? Why she tolerated his long absences and constant affairs? If Maggie weren’t strong and clearheaded she’d fall into the same trap.

  Graham cupped her face in his large palms as he sucked on her bottom lip, erasing all thoughts of her dysfunctional family. She opened her eyes and watched his gaze darken. “You do things to my head.” He tugged at her bottom lip again. “To my body.”

  Maggie slid her hands around him, squeezing his butt. “I like doing things to your body.”

  “You asked me not to touch you.” Graham’s hands left her face and trailed down her hair, twirling a curl around his finger.

  “Not until we had dinner. We ate. We can go back to bed now.” She stood on her tiptoes and nipped his chin.

  “And you say I’m the insatiable one?” Graham kissed her nose and reached around her for the dishes. “I wash. You dry.”

  “What?” Maggie couldn’t believe he turned down an obvious offer for another go around on her mattress. Or counter. She’d never had sex in her kitchen before. Or her couch. There were still places she’d like to christen with her dark haired, blue-eyed pilot.

  “Doreen raised me well. Never let the cook do all the dishes.”

  “You grilled.”

  “That’s why I offered to do this together. Here.” He tossed her a dry towel and filled the sink with bubbles.

  “Do you know how incredibly sexy it is to see a man do dishes?”

  “Oh yeah?” Graham’s mouth quirked up.

  “It would be even sexier if you were naked.” Maggie took the plate he handed her, dried it, and put it away in the cabinet.

  “You’re stealing all my lines.” Graham laughed.

  “Oh, I bet you have a plethora of them too.” She snapped her mouth shut. What was it with her tinge of jealousy? Being passive aggressive was so not her style.

  Graham was too gentlemanly to respond to her quip. He handed her the last dish to dry, and as she put it away, he pulled out a bottle of wine from the fridge and poured two glasses. “Come.” He nodded toward the back door and she followed him on to the deck. Setting both wine glasses on the table, Graham pulled the chaise lounge closer and reclined.

  Maggie started for the chaise next to him but he patted the space between his legs. “Sit with me.” Tingles and butterflies danced through her belly as she lay against his chest. Graham’s arms settled around her as she tilted her head, resting it against his neck.

  “Tell me about your family.” Graham brushed his hand lightly up and down her arm, and he kissed the top of her head.

  She didn’t like being the center of attention. Her job was to listen and help others. Digging up her past brought a blanket of sadness she’d tried to avoid and she didn’t want to ruin the little time she had left with Graham. Besides, talking about her parents would only be a mood killer.

  Once again, the irony was not lost on her. “Not much to tell.”

  “Do you have any siblings?”

  Thinking he might understand why she was reluctant to talk about her family if she gave him a bite, she told him the abbreviated story of Liam. “After he died my family kind of shut down. We aren’t really close. My dad is always away and my mom is an agoraphobic. Kind of.”

  “How is one kind of agoraphobic?”

  Maggie shrugged. “She doesn’t leave the house. But when my dad’s home it’s like she’s cured and she’s…normal again.”

  “Are you two close?”

  “Me and my mom?”

  “Yeah.”

  Not a topic she wanted to discuss, yet Graham seemed truly interested, not just asking to make idle conversation like some of her other dates. “Not really. I was closer to my dad when I was little.”

  “I can see you as Daddy’s little girl.” Graham handed her a wine glass.

  Maggie sipped and swirled the cool wine in her mouth, remembering how much fun she used to have with her father. The adventures they’d go on. The laughs they’d have while her mother stayed home with Liam. At first it was because he was so young. And then because of his health. She knew her mother resented them being away when Liam was in the hospital. Edward had said it was too painful to watch his son die. Instead, he traveled more often. And less often with Maggie.

  “You got quiet. Tell me about your dad.”

  “He’s always been a hero to me. I don’t think I’ve ever heard him raise his voice or be in a bad mood. My dad is full of life and loves to make people happy. I remember the first time he brought me to the Grand Canyon. It was just Dad and me. A father-daughter trip. We hiked and camped and took thousands of pictures. He showed me how to angle the camera on a sunny day and how to capture raindrops in a storm. He taught me about the wildlife and would quiz me at night around the campfire. And he seemed to know everyone and everyone knew him. Once when we were in Scotland—”

  “You’ve been to Scotland? Did you see the Loch Ness monster?”

  “Yeah.” Maggie laughed. There was no suffocating pressure in her chest like she anticipated when she talked to Graham. “He told me the tale and I was scared for three days. When we went out on a boat during the day, he made sure I felt safe. Even across the ocean, people migrated to my dad. He had a way of making everyone feel good about themselves.”

  “Had? Did he pass away?”

  “No. Well, not literally. Sometimes it feels that way. After Liam died he stopped bringing me on his trips. His stays at home were shorter, but always fun. It’s like he refuses to believe anything bad could be happening in the world. He usually leaves after a few days. I think being with my mom brings him down and he doesn’t want to deal with it. I know he has had his share of affairs as well. He’s too much a people person to be faithful to one sad and lonely woman.” Similar to Graham. Once again she doubted her relationship—or whatever it was—with him. From his too positive demeanor to his life is a barrel of fun attitude, everything about Graham reminded her of her father.

  “They never divorced?”

  “No.” Maggie finished her wine and set it on the table. “My mom
loves him more than anything else. It’s painful to watch.” And something she’d never do. Never love a man who couldn’t love her the same way.

  Graham stroked her hair and rested his cheek on her head. “Does your mom talk to you?”

  “Me? No. My mom doesn’t say much to me. Ever. I have dinner with her on the first Sunday of the month. Her choice. She can’t handle drop-in visits, unless they’re from my dad, so I keep my distance unless Benny calls me.”

  “Benny?” Maggie crossed her arms over her belly and Graham covered them with his. She fought the urge to get up and move out of his embrace. Instead she nestled deeper into his warmth and switched the direction of the conversation.

  “Tell me more about your mom. Doreen sounds like a fascinating woman.”

  “Avoidance, Doc? So beneath you. Tell me about Benny.” He brought her hands to his mouth and kissed her knuckles, one at a time, then slowly repeated the process until she caved. Once again the perceptive pilot had figured her out. As soon as he realized how much she was falling for him he’d bolt. Maybe that was a good thing.

  Surrendering to his touch, she continued. “She takes care of my mom. Benny’s always been the mother figure in my life. She keeps me posted on my mom’s health. Lets me know when my dad’s back in town.”

  “Your dad doesn’t contact you?”

  “Sometimes. He knows Benny will get in touch with me when he’s in town. He always brings me gifts, though. To make up for his absence.”

  “Which is why you crave stability.”

  Talking to Graham had been therapeutic. He’d listened to her sad tale and didn’t judge, didn’t pity her, and didn’t try to make her feel better. He simply listened. Maggie couldn’t read the reaction she had to him. She more than admired Graham Riley, more than lusted. Heck, she loved him.

  They lay there in silence until Maggie drifted off to sleep. She woke much later, the sun shining through the slit between her bedroom curtains. Sometime in the night Graham must have carried her to her room. She rolled to her back and stretched her legs, realizing she was naked. Reaching out her foot, she stroked Graham’s calf and worked her way up his body until she confirmed her thoughts.

  He was naked too.

  “I didn’t think you were ever going to wake up.” Graham kissed her nose, sending a bolt of desire to her girly parts.

  “What do you want to do now that I’m awake?” she teased.

  “You said you had plans for my body. Well, sweetheart, the feeling is mutual.”

  ***

  Maggie

  It was late afternoon by the time they stumbled out of bed. They sat on her deck chairs, watching Sweetie Pie roll around in the grass as they sipped their iced tea and ate leftover chicken. She didn’t want to ruin their mood, but she needed to know how long Graham was sticking around.

  “How are things going with Dr. Warren?”

  “Good. She cleared me and sent in her report to Global Air.”

  “Oh, good.” She choked and sipped her tea to soothe her suddenly dry throat. “So when do you go back to Texas?”

  Graham sighed and averted his eyes. “Tomorrow.”

  Maggie’s heart clenched and she blinked away the tears forming in her eyes. “I guess this is goodbye then.” She stood and Graham’s firm hand gently pushed her back into her seat.

  “Maggie,” he pleaded.

  “No. No, you don’t need to say anything. We both knew this would be a quick affair.” She waved him off and distracted her hands with her sandwich, tearing the bread into tiny crumbs.

  “I don’t want us to be over. I’ll be coming back to Maine to—”

  “Absolutely not.” This time she avoided his touch and scooted out of her chair and around the table.

  “I’m willing to give us a shot. To try the relationship thing.”

  “And what exactly does a relationship thing mean?”

  Graham shrugged. “I won’t sleep with anyone else.”

  “Tell me, Graham, what’s the longest you’ve ever been in a relationship?”

  He hung his head and stuffed his hands in his back pocket. “I, uh, I’ve never been in one before.”

  Maggie snorted. “What, so you hook up with random women across the country? Do they even know about each other?”

  “No and yes.” He shuffled his feet and avoided eye contact. “I see a few women regularly, but not exclusively. They know the deal. When I’m in their city I may call them up and if they’re not currently involved with someone we…well, it’s mutual and it’s not with strangers.”

  “Great. So I’d be the woman you hook up with when in Maine. Lovely. No thanks.” Maggie picked up her dishes and headed inside.

  “Okay, I admit when I say it out loud it doesn’t sound so great.”

  “You think?” She dumped her dishes in the sink and crossed her arms over her chest. “I think you should go.”

  “Maggie, if you’ll just listen—”

  “No thanks, Graham. I’ve heard enough. I’m not delusional and not the romantic type who thinks she can change a guy. You’re a nice guy, but not for me. You don’t do relationships and I don’t do…hook-ups.” He needed to leave before she broke down and cried like a baby, clinging to his ankles begging him not to leave. Or worse, agreeing to be his hook-up when in Maine. Just like Edward O’Fallon used her mother.

  “Maggie—”

  “No! You’re a beautiful man who can get any woman he wants, and does. I know your type. You wine and dine and sweet talk women with your charm and good looks and will never commit. Never. I don’t want you or your type in my life. I refuse to be your Maine booty call.” She would not turn into her mother. A helpless puddle at the beck and call of a man who visited on a whim with a smile, a line, and gifts.

  Graham’s jaw clenched and nostrils flared, holding back his anger, his words. His love. She could see the frustration in his eyes.

  He squeezed his eyes shut and flexed his fingers. Maggie studied his body language, wondering what thoughts were swirling around in his head. In the few weeks she’d known him he had yet to show anything beyond an easygoing nature. When he spoke of his sister’s trouble, or of his father’s abuse, he did so with detachment, showing no signs of emotional connection or reaction.

  At first Maggie thought it mature of him, to be able to control his emotions, but now she wondered if he’d suppressed them for too long and didn’t know how to communicate.

  When he opened his eyes he appeared in control again. “You’re an amazing woman, Maggie O’Fallon.” He lifted his hand to touch her and apparently thought better of it, shoving it back in his pocket. “Goodbye,” he whispered before turning and walking out her door.

  After slamming it behind him, she picked up the closest thing she could find—a votive candle on her end table—and threw it across the living room, watching the glass break and shatter across the hardwood floor. That was Graham. Pretty and elegant and smelling like heaven, lighting her world up with passionate fire. And then shattering her world in an instant. No matter how hard they worked it would never be the same. Tiny bits of glass shimmered under the overhead light, mocking her, a reminder that her life wasn’t whole. And neither was Graham’s.

  Sweetie Pie ran from the room, scared out of her tiny mind, and Maggie dropped to the floor and cried, cradling her one and only constant love in her lap.

  The sun set and the house turned dark during her ugly cry. Regaining her composure, Maggie picked her tired body off the floor and went in search of a broom and dustpan. After cleaning up the mess, she comforted her shaking dog and tended to the dishes in the kitchen. Sweetie Pie scratched and whined at the back door.

  “What is it, Sweetie? You’ve been out all day, you can’t possibly have to go again.” Maggie peeked outside and saw a silhouette of a man in her backyard. Quickly she ducked, scooping up her pup in one arm and grabbing the nearest weapon she could find with the other. A rubber boot. Not brave enough to face an intruder, she dropped to her hands and knees,
holding the boot between her teeth, and crawled to the living room where she left her purse.

  If only Graham was still here to protect them. She’d never been afraid—or lonely—in her house before, only since Graham had filled it then left it. In just a few days his presence was everywhere. The extra coffee cup in the kitchen sink. The indent in the cushion pillow on the couch from their afternoon lovemaking. His discarded towel hanging over the shower rod in the bathroom. The light scrapes on her stomach from his facial scruff. His scent covering every inch of her bed. She could still taste the mint on his tongue after he’d used her toothbrush last night. Maggie could remember the sound of his laugh when she said something shocking, completely out of character for a licensed therapist.

  Damn, he had control over all five of her senses. Dropping the boot from her mouth, she shook Graham out of her thoughts. She’d call 911 after she made sure all her doors were locked. Maggie turned the deadbolt on the front door and caught a glimpse of a vehicle in her driveway.

  Graham’s black Jeep. Steadying her breath, she righted her body and kissed the white fluff in her arms. “It’s okay, Sweetie. It’s just Graham.” They stepped out onto the back deck, the closing of the door revealing their presence, and Graham turned around.

  He was still too far away to read the expression on his face, but she could see his shoulders tense. “Graham?”

  He ran his hands across his face and slowly made his way up the three deck steps until he stood in front of her, shadowed by the night. “I needed to cool off a little before getting behind the wheel.” She tilted her head in confusion and he steered his grey eyes to meet hers. “You’ve been crying.” Graham reached out and caressed her face with the back of his fingers. “I’m sorry I did this to you. I never meant to hurt you.”

  “I know.” Maggie set the squirmy dog on the ground and watched her sniff Graham’s sneakers before running off to do her business.

  “Maggie…” He hesitated. “I want to keep seeing you.”

  “Do the long distance thing?” She’d seen how destructive a long distance relationship could be on her parents. She refused to be kept at home waiting for her man to return, wondering if he found someone else to warm up to on a cold night. Wondering what tramp would seduce him in the hotel bar.