Must Love Pets: A Romance Box Set

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Must Love Pets: A Romance Box Set Page 49

by Theresa Weir


  “Of course you like him.” Maddie shrugged one shoulder because she was too zonked out to shrug both. “Like you said earlier, he’s pretty.”

  “Cody and the kids liked him, too. And he laughed at things I said. Not everyone gets my humor.”

  Maddie opened her eyes wide. “Really? That’s so hard to believe.”

  “Very funny.” Kris leaned forward to slug her, and Maddie easily dodged her knuckles. Kris, a sugar addict, had eaten two pieces of pie and a huge serving of her sweet potato casserole that was so sweet it may as well have been a dessert. Whatever coma Maddie was in, Kris’s was doubled.

  “So what’s going on between you two?” Kris asked. “I saw sparks. Lots of sparks.”

  “He’s in love with someone else.”

  “He told you this?”

  Maddie nodded then made a face. “He didn’t mention love. He talks about being under her spell or enthralled by her. He calls her the dark queen.”

  Kris made a face, too. “The dark queen? Ick.”

  “I know.”

  “He’s kind of dramatic, isn’t he?”

  “Not most of the time. Not really.” She almost wished he were more dramatic. Then the thought of him caring about another woman wouldn’t hurt.

  “Well.” Kris’s lips pressed together. “I don’t like him as much anymore.”

  “I’m sure Cody will be relieved. You really need to watch your drooling.”

  “Ha! You should see him stare at the Victoria’s Secret angels. Next time there’s a commercial, I’ll dump a tray of ice over his head to cool him down.”

  “He knows they don’t look like that in real life, doesn’t he?”

  “He’s in denial.”

  “I don’t blame him. I’m in denial about a lot of things that are going around, too. Let’s talk about something else.”

  “Okay. What’s with your job?”

  Maddie made another face and put her hands on her belly that was bigger than when she’d walked into the house. “Let’s not talk about that now.”

  “You should talk to a lawyer. You can file a discrimination suit against them.”

  “They were my friends.” Her heavy tone matched the feeling on her chest, as if a wrecking ball rested on it.

  Kris’s forehead creased. “Not real friends. If they were your real friends, they wouldn’t have thrown you from the curb into the freeway.”

  “The freeway?”

  A chorus of “oohs” and “icks” came from the living room, but Kris ignored the noise. “During rush-hour traffic, too.”

  “I know you’re right, but I guess I’m more hurt than angry.”

  “Bastards. And you’re too…” Her gaze flicked over Maddie, a quick gaze that saw everything.

  “Don’t say ‘nice,’” she said.

  “I was going to say wimpy.” Kris peered over Maddie’s head. “What would you say?”

  “Obviously you’re the smart sister.” Logan strolled to the table. “When someone bites you, you bite ’em back.”

  “You’re my kind of guy.” Kris batted her eyes at him. “If I ever divorce Cody, can I call you?”

  “The second you sign the papers.”

  Kris grinned and turned to Maddie. “I like him.”

  “That’s because you’re shallow.”

  “He didn’t arrest you. That’s a point in his favor. And he’s still letting you stay at his house.”

  “I know. But if you’re too nice to them, they turn on you.”

  “There you go. You should’ve been bitchier at work.”

  “You should’ve shown them your true colors,” Logan said.

  “I agree,” Kris said. “Let me file the suit for you. I’m sure I can still forge your signature. And I’ve got all the dirt.”

  “You’re a credit to our family. I’m very proud of you.” Maddie turned to Logan. “Why are you here? To mock me?”

  “It’s not always about you.”

  Kris laughed, and Logan turned to her. “I volunteered to give you the news about your dog. He puked on your living room carpet.”

  “Oh no.” She groaned then lowered her head at Maddie. “You see what happens when you’re too good to them?”

  “What?” Maddie asked. “They eat too much and throw up?”

  “Exactly.” Kris stood. Two minutes later, she was heading to the living room with cleaning supplies and a scowl. Logan took her place.

  “I like your sister and her family.”

  “I got lucky with her.” She smiled at him. It was…nice to sit here and talk to him with their stomachs full and feeling a little sleepy and a lot happy. She had things to worry about—but not now.

  “You deserve some luck. And she’s right. You should sue the town.”

  She shut her eyes then opened them. “I don’t want to have this conversation.”

  “It’s something you need to think about.”

  “I know, but I was hoping for a respite.” She shrugged. The board members were probably phoning each other about her today instead of enjoying themselves with their families. “Maybe I should sue, but I won’t.”

  “You still think they’re your friends?”

  “No.” She looked at him then down at her hands clutched on her lap. “But I don’t want that poison in me.”

  “What about Zach’s dad? Did you ever search for him?”

  Her stomach muscles tightened, and she shook her head.

  “He might be a rich man by now. Doesn’t Zach deserve his support?”

  She turned away from him then back. “Yes, he does.”

  “But you never looked for him.”

  “He didn’t deserve Zach.” Her body was hot and not in a good way, with her stomach twisting.

  “And you could’ve found a job in another town—or anyplace. Because of the board’s promise, you stayed at Angel Lake. You’re not just hurting yourself financially, you’re hurting Zach.”

  “I know.”

  “But you still don’t want to sue them?”

  She crossed her arms over her belly and bent forward in her chair. “I feel sick. I ate too much. Just…” She looked up at him and hated the surprise in his face. “Go away. Just go away.”

  “I’m back. I—” Kris stood in the entranceway. At her words, Logan turned to her, and Kris looked from Logan to her then back to Logan again.

  “What did you say to her?” Kris demanded.

  “I’m wondering why she’s letting the town board walk over her.”

  Kris drew herself up to her whole five-four height, managing to look formidable. “That’s none of your damn business. You’re upsetting my sister, and I’m asking you nicely to leave my kitchen.”

  He stood slowly, staring down at Maddie. “It wasn’t my intent to distress you.”

  She looked away from him. There was nothing to say. She disappointed him. She’d heard it in his words and seen it in his eyes. He’d admired her for being smart and funny and brave, and now he knew she was a fake. A coward.

  As he walked away, Kris stood in front of her and leaned down.

  “I’ll never forgive Mom for what she did to you,” she said. “Never.”

  Maddie glanced up and saw Logan in the entranceway about four feet behind Kris. He was staring at them. He held her gaze for a moment then turned, leaving as Kris knelt and hugged her.

  Laying her head on Kris’s shoulder, Maddie put her arm around her back and held on tightly.

  * * *

  Maddie checked to make sure Zach was asleep before she made her way slowly upstairs. Logan had said he was passing on a story from her tonight. That after all the food, he would fall asleep before she was half finished.

  He was a good liar, she gave him that. He’d eaten more than usual—they all had—but she knew the real reason.

  His door was open, and she stepped inside.

  “You won’t let it go,” she said, “will you?”

  He was sprawled on the bed on his back, one leg bent. He still had on
the blue cable knit sweater and jeans he’d worn to her sister’s. He set down the pages he was reading. It could’ve been a script or a manuscript. She didn’t know and didn’t care.

  His face looked sad, but not for himself, she thought. For her.

  She hated it.

  “I’m used to women coming to my room,” he said. “But I admit I hadn’t expected you to want more of me so soon.”

  “And you’re so wonderful in bed,” she said, raising her eyebrows.

  “That’s what they tell me.”

  She sat on the foot of his bed. She’d already slipped into her red-and-green-flannel pants—mostly because of the elastic waist—and she’d exchanged her purple sweater for a red sweatshirt.

  “I see you dressed for seduction,” he said.

  “I hear they’re Santa’s favorite colors. You never know when he might drop by.”

  He grinned then his mouth turned sober. She tensed. She’d come here to talk…but on her time, not his. She wanted to go into this gently, not in an angry rush.

  Why couldn’t he just lie there and say nothing?

  “I don’t get you,” he said. “You’re brave and fearless when you’re talking to me. But when the board screws you over, you back off, not willing to fight for yourself.” He leaned toward her. “What did your mother do to you?”

  She looked down at her crossed legs. Like it or not, this was it. “I was twelve when my parents split up,” she said, beginning at the time when the change started, like all good stories—and sometimes the awful ones. “A month later, we were living with the man my mother later married. That was in Tennessee. My dad had been stationed there, but he was reassigned to Florida.” She shrugged. “I think he requested the move. Kris was in high school already, and she elected to stay with my dad’s mother in Chicago. My stepfather…” She stopped and swallowed.

  “He abused you?” His tone was rough.

  “No, not that.” She shuddered. “I was moody and cried a lot and didn’t like him. I guessed he and my mom were having an affair while she was still with my dad. I was mad at my mom for ruining our home, and I blamed my stepdad, too. For the most part, he ignored me, and sometimes he yelled at me. My friend’s girlfriend told her mother, and her mother talked to someone at school. They called my mother in.” Her voice choked up. All these years later, and her throat tightened up to talk about it.

  “She didn’t like being called in,” Logan said, filling in the spaces. “She was angry.”

  “If you can imagine ice being angry, that was my mother. The next day, she packed a suitcase, drove me to the airport, gave me a ticket she’d bought online, and told me she was sending me to my father.”

  “Shit. What did your father say?”

  “He cried and hugged me. He’s a good guy. He didn’t marry again for four years. I like my stepmother. I only left after they had twins because they were talking about moving to Alaska, and I wanted to be with my sister. I was almost eighteen then, old enough to leave home.”

  “Is that why you took in everyone who needed a helping hand? Why you let them stay here?”

  Catching herself raising her shoulders defensively, she dropped them. “I don’t analyze everything I do.”

  “You knew what they were going through.”

  “I did it because it was the right thing to do. I did it because, for this short time, I could help someone else who was desperate and going through a bad time. So mostly, I did it because I could.” She could hear the hoarseness in her voice and knew he did, too. He didn’t miss much. She glared at him. “Don’t make a martyr out of me. Or a saint.”

  “When I look at you,” he said, and his blue eyes turned hot, “I can guarantee you that I don’t see a saint.”

  “Pig.”

  “I’m a man. Men are pigs.” He held out his arms. “Come here.”

  “No.” She pushed off the bed and stood. “I just came up because I knew you wouldn’t stop until you found out. It’s a stupid story, and you’d think I would’ve gotten over it by now.”

  “Your mother rejected you.” He slid out of the bed, too. “She was a bitch, and when you acted up, she kicked you out. Now I understand.”

  “When you put it like that, I see it was…not a cool thing for her to do.”

  “You should write her a letter.”

  “A waste of paper. She’d crumple it up and throw it away.”

  He stepped toward her, and she backed up, stepping on something, a discarded shoe, she thought. Teetering, she waved her arms at her sides and said, “Ack.” He took two long steps, slung his arm around her, and held her against him.

  She closed her eyes and allowed herself to lean against him. “Stay with me,” he murmured in her ear.

  Her head snapped up. “I can’t. Zach—”

  “Zach is sleeping. You don’t need to stay all night. Just for a while.”

  “It’s a terrible idea.”

  He stepped back, taking her with him. “No talking. We won’t say anything. I’ll just hold you. Pretend I’m a teddy bear.”

  Laughing shakily, she drew away from his chest, but his arms around her back stopped her from moving farther. If she pushed at him and insisted, she was sure he would let her go. But she wasn’t that angry. She wasn’t scared, either.

  And his arms around her felt…good. What would it hurt if she let him hold her for just another minute?

  “Don’t you trust yourself around me?” he asked.

  Her eyebrows rose. “Really? You’re daring me?”

  He grinned. “I am.”

  Her heart beat faster. “You can’t touch me sexually.”

  “It works both ways. You can’t touch me sexually.”

  “Real funny.” She fought to keep her lips from turning up.

  “That sounds like a yes to me.” Before she could say anything, he slid an arm behind her thighs and one behind her back then swept her up, like a man carrying his bride—and she didn’t know why that analogy popped into her mind.

  Instinct had her swinging her arms up to hold on to him and make sure he wouldn’t drop her onto the floor. But his grasp was firm, and his arms were muscled. In seconds, he lowered her to the bed.

  She stared up at him. “You’re not soft enough to be a teddy bear.”

  “If I keep eating the way I did today, that will be fixed soon. After all the turkey, stuffing, and pie, I feel like a slug.”

  She looked him up and down again. Openly. Feeling…healed in a small way. A way that would let her lie on his bed instead of curling up into a ball of misery on hers.

  “Like what you see?” The blue in his eyes darkened, and he smelled like sex.

  “You know what you look like,” she said, hearing the flatness of her voice when she felt anything but flat. Not at this moment. Not at any moment she’d been with him or near him or breathing the same air with him.

  “You know, too. You saw me yesterday. All of me.”

  Her face heated. “I really wasn’t paying attention to the way you looked.” She’d noticed, though. Of course she had. In between the kissing, the touching, the sliding, the feeling, the heat, the orgasms.

  Chuckling, he lay down next to her, his arm touching the length of her arms, his hips and legs touching hers.

  It was like cuddling up to a warm oven. The only thing she missed was that he wasn’t holding her.

  She shifted to the other side of the bed, her face to the wall.

  He shifted after her. “You’re hard to figure out.”

  “I’m the most boring person on the planet.”

  “Not boring in any way or on any planet. You’re a mix of sweet and sassy, and strength and vulnerability. Yet when it comes time for you to really put your foot down…you back off.”

  His words stung. She turned her head, peering at his profile, which was just as good to look at as the frontal view. “What about you? You present this I-don’t-give-a-damn front…. Yet even when someone doesn’t ask you for help, you’re there.” She narrowe
d her eyes. “Even when someone doesn’t want help, you’re there.”

  “You see, there’s your stinger.”

  She opened her mouth to reply then closed it.

  “No comeback?” he asked.

  “No way am I going to talk about your stinger.”

  He laughed much harder and longer than her comment merited. A man thing. She filed that away in her mind.

  When his laughter quieted, he brushed his thumb over her cheekbone. “I don’t help everyone, sweetheart. Just you.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you don’t ask for it.”

  “You don’t make sense.”

  “Life doesn’t always make sense. Let’s not talk.” He rolled over and put his arms around the front of her shoulders. “Remember, I’m your teddy bear. Let me hold you and keep you warm.”

  “Why?”

  He used his elbow to rise up and peer down at her. “Because sometimes it’s just nice to know you aren’t alone.”

  Tears filled her eyes. He started to bend down to kiss her and, without saying a word, she rolled over, her back to him.

  He shifted to spoon his body against hers. And when she felt something pressing against an inappropriate body part—because he was a man, and she supposed they couldn’t stop some things—she thought of telling him that teddy bears were supposed to be soft. Instead, she closed her eyes and said a small thank you for this. It was, after all, Thanksgiving Day.

  * * *

  She fell asleep within moments, her body loosened, her breaths even in sleep. He could tell her mouth was open, but she wasn’t snoring.

  If she did snore, he had the feeling he’d think it was cute.

  After about twenty minutes, he slid his arm out from under her and rolled off the bed. She made a wordless sound of protest. He touched her shoulder and whispered, “Shhhh.” She settled down with a long sigh. Her trust touched something inside his chest, and he had the odd thought that rust was chipping off his heart, one flake at a time.

  Quickly, he stripped off his jeans and sweater then pulled the cover folded on the bottom of the bed over her. He turned off the light and got back in bed next to her, carefully, making the minimum amount of movement, not wanting to disturb her.

 

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