Connor pulls the phone away from his ear and rests it against his shirt. “Here.” He hands me a menu. “Order us something for dessert. And none of that fancy stuff. I like ice cream. I like pie. Don’t get froufrou on me.”
“I’m ready to leave.”
He angles his head and gives me that charmer’s smile. “Babe, we’re just getting started. I have to take this call outside. Can’t hear a thing in here.” He points to the phone. “I need to walk Jack Anderson through foaling a colt. It’s his first.” Connor takes a step, then doubles back. “Only a chicken would take advantage of this and run out.” He leans down; his lips hover near my ear. “And we both know that’s not you, right?” With a laugh he saunters away. “Okay, Jack. Now just calm down. No, I don’t have horse epidurals.”
I rip out my own phone and punch some numbers.
“Hello?”
“Beth, I am on to your game.”
“What’s that, Maggie? I can’t hear you for all that music in the background.”
I press the phone to my lips. “Jermaine O’Dell had better be puking his guts up.”
“Now, what an unkind thing to say.” She tuts like an old Sunday school teacher. “I’ll be sure and pass on your get-well wishes.”
“You do that. But your matchmaking days are over and—”
“Girl, the feedback is terrible. I’m gonna have to hang up now. You two have fun.”
“Beth—” But she’s gone. I slip the phone in my purse, raising my head as a shadow falls across the table.
“Maggie Montgomery?”
A woman stands there, arms crossed, frizzy ponytail. Trouble in her eyes.
“Yes?”
“You remember me?”
Can I just stick up a billboard downtown? No, I don’t remember you. I’m sorry I left at least one twisted and torched memory for everyone in the town of Ivy.
“Debra Linden. You stole my boyfriend in the eleventh grade.” Her fists clench at her sides, and I wonder if she and Allison might share the common bond of crazy.
“Wow, that was a really long time ago.”
She takes a pull from her beer bottle. “David Paulsen.”
“Refresh my memory.”
“David,” she spits, swaying on her feet. “Blond hair. Captain of the baseball team. Drove a Miata.”
I roll my eyes. “David Paulsen. What a loser he turned out to be.” The woman steps forward, her face red, her neck a patchwork of splotches. “I was doing you a favor. That boy couldn’t keep his eyes on one girl, he flunked study hall, and his breath always smelled like eggs. I mean, can you say ‘reject’?”
She pushes up her sleeves, her nostrils flaring. “David Paulsen’s my husband.”
Chapter Twenty
The woman wobbles as she takes a menacing step closer. I have to say, of all the stuff I’ve done, I’ve never been in a bar fight. God, don’t let this be the first time.
“Debra, I’m sure he’s now a wonderful—”
“And he still talks about you.”
Ew. “That means nothing. Probably just leftover loyalty from science class.” I curl my fingers around my fork just in case I need a weapon. “I let him peek at my final.”
“I hear that’s not all you let him peek at.”
I shoot to my feet with a gasp. “Now that is not true! That lying little—”
“Excuse me for interrupting,” says a smooth voice.
Behind the bleating shrew stands Connor, a hint of a smile on those full lips.
Debra cuts Connor with her drunk-girl eyes. “Maggie and I were just chatting. Catching up on old times.”
He forces his big body in front of her and pulls me to him. “Maggie had her heart set on a dance with me, and I can’t put her off any longer.” He stares down into my face, his gaze glowing with love and other fallacies. “Come on, sweetheart. But if you start crying on my shoulder during the love song, I’m not wiping your nose this time.”
His fingers lace with mine and give them a squeeze.
“Yes, dumplin.’ ”
Connor leads me onto the floor where other couples move in time to the raspy ballad coming from the stage. He pulls me flush with his chest, resting one hand on the small of my back, the other keeping my fingers captive.
I try to take a step back, but his arms don’t budge. “I leave for two minutes.” He smiles at a couple we pass. “Two minutes and you’re about to come to blows with Ivy’s meanest librarian.”
“That woman’s a librarian?”
His hand at my back rubs a slow circle. “You should see her when you have overdues.”
A giggle escapes and I look into his face. As the band sings about a love that makes the sun rise, my eyes meet Connor’s. Something flutters in my chest, but I ignore it. Probably indigestion from my altercation with Debra.
“I’m not kissing you tonight,” I whisper.
“I swear that’s all you think about.” His smile is wicked. “I’m not just a piece of meat, Maggie.”
He pulls me so close, my head has nowhere to go but to his shoulder. I rest my hands behind his neck and listen to the sound of his heart beating. Inhale his light cologne. Close my eyes and pretend this is someone I know. Trust. And for the first time ever—I feel safe.
“I’m sorry if I upset you.” His chest vibrates with each word.
I give this some thought as the music lulls my weary brain. “Sometimes I don’t know what you want from me.”
He pushes air out his mouth. “I don’t know either.”
A saxophone takes a solo and wails a soulful melody. Connor and I fall into an easy quiet as the music does all the talking.
This man scares me. I stand next to him, and the fireworks in my heart are like a Fourth of July finale. But there’s always this question in his eyes that I can’t put words to. And definitely can’t answer. Besides, I can’t get involved with anyone in Ivy. I’m leaving. I’m temporary. I’m a vapor. Gone like shoes in the summer. Like a pack of Rollos in my purse.
“It’s okay to be scared of everything that’s going on,” he says.
Spell broken. “I’m not.”
His chin rests on my head. “Then why were we in a bat cave at two-thirty in the morning?”
“There’s never a wrong time to observe nature.”
“I’m glad you think so.” He stops. Reaches into his pocket and checks his vibrating phone. “Yep. I figured I’d get a text soon. Jack needs some help.”
“The guy with the horse?”
Connor keeps his hold on my hand, his eyes sparkling with unfiltered challenge. “I’m calling in my bet. Time to go to work.”
“Me?”
He glances down at my black patent flats. “Hope those aren’t your favorites.”
“Connor, you really know how to show a girl a good time.”
He rests his warm hand on the back of my neck and points me toward the door. “I read a lot of Cosmo.”
“So what’s the problem?” I ask as Connor starts the truck.
“Jack.” He shifts the truck in gear, then rests his arm on my headrest. “He’s new at owning horses. I guess when he bent down to take a look, things went bad.”
“For the horse?”
“Nah.” He rips into a pack of gum and hands it to me. “For Jack. He passed out. Hit his head. His wife took him to the emergency room just in case.”
Connor picks up the speed, and we’re in front of Jack Anderson’s stable in no time.
“Let’s go check it out.” He grabs things out of the compartment in the truck bed. “You’re not squeamish, are you?”
“No, but I’m also not participating. I’ll be moral support.”
We walk into the stable, and Connor makes a beeline for the back stall, humming a little tune as he goes. Settling down beside the quarter horse, he puts on elbow-length gloves as he croons soft words for the animal. “Hey, Harry.”
“Harry? That’s a boy’s name.”
Connor inspects the animal’s hind quar
ters. “Jack’s three-year-old son named her. He didn’t really know the difference.” He rubs his hand over the horse. “That’s a girl. Hang in there, sweetheart.”
“You like this, don’t you?” I move back as he adjusts to get a better view.
His eyes, so intense, so direct, meet mine. “I love this. Helping people. Saving animals. I can’t imagine doing anything else.” With a frown, he checks the horse again. “Maggie, in my bag there’s a flashlight. Move nice and slow and grab that please.” He caresses the horse’s coat. “Harry, my intern here is going to help us out. She’s an okay girl, I guess. Kind of hardheaded. A little bit of a snob.”
I hand him the light. “Harry, Dr. Blake hasn’t had a lot of experience with women.” Though that kiss blows that theory out of the water. “So don’t listen to him. The closest he got to a girl in high school was the Princess Leia figurine in his Star Wars collection.”
Connor’s forehead wrinkles, and his entire focus is on the horse. “Come a little closer and shine that light on the business end.”
I swallow back apprehension and do what he says. I’m really not into this kind of thing. I don’t even watch Animal Planet.
“Harry, I’m going in.”
At the sight of Connor’s gloved hand easing into the horse, I turn my head and stare at the opposite wall. Ew!
“Just about got it.” He mumbles encouragement to the struggling horse. “You’re doing awesome, Harry. What a good girl. Almost done. You okay up there, Maggie?”
“Uh-huh.” I press my lips together. “Great.”
“Cause you look a little green. Might be the dim lighting, though.”
Connor returns to humming, and I try to focus on that. And not the gooshy sounds from the horse. My stomach does a full rotation.
“What’s going on down there?” I ask.
“Why don’t you look and see?”
“Harry needs her privacy.”
“Foals have to come out feet first. But this one has a leg caught. Just gonna”—he gives a grunt of his own—“try and pull it out. Easy, girl. Hang in there.”
The horse moans. “Is she okay?”
“Could be better. Need some more light.”
At that, I brave a look. Connor’s face is strained, the fine lines around his eyes tightened as he focuses on his task.
Connor reaches in deeper. “Got it. Gonna help you pull this baby out, Harry. Work with me.”
After a few heart-stopping moments, the hooves appear. Then thin, fragile legs. And finally the head. And tons of other stuff I try not to look at.
Finally the baby is delivered into Connor’s strong arms. Tears gather in my eyes. Lord, you make the coolest things. I am in awe.
Connor rests the foal beside its mother, who immediately goes to licking. “Good job, girl.”
“She did do great,” I say on a relieved sigh.
“I meant you.” He stands up, a grin splitting his face. “For a second there, I thought I was going to have two patients. You ready for part two?”
I blink. “There’s more?”
He slips off his gloves. “Yeah. Mrs. Button made me a strawberry pie when I set her cat’s broken leg yesterday. Come back to my house and have some.”
“I can’t. I need to—”
“Get home. Right.” Connor looks unimpressed. “You’re still on the job as a vet. And eating other people’s baked goods in lieu of payment is just part of it.” He gives the horse another glance. “I spared you the hard part.”
“The gross part.”
“I’m proud of you, Maggie. You were a big help.”
“Anything for a girl named Harry.” In the muted light of the stable, Connor holds my gaze until I feel my cheeks glow pink. “Your dream girl probably wouldn’t have helped you tonight.”
“No?”
I shake my head. “She’d be home. Watching PBS and getting a head start on her yearly Christmas letter.”
Against my better judgment, I find myself being driven to his house.
“Did you always want to be a vet?” I ask.
“Except for a brief stint where I entertained the idea of being a ninja, yes. I grew up helping my dad. I practically lived at the clinic. I always knew I’d take over the practice.”
“Was it expected?”
“No. My parents raised my sister and me to be whatever we wanted.”
My dad raised me to be a neurotic stress ball.
“Whatever I would’ve chosen, I would’ve had my parents approval. But Ivy’s exactly where I wanted to be.” His eyes slide toward me. “Not like you, I guess.”
“Where are we?” The question comes out with a little squeak. But as the trees grow thicker along the road, dread completes the picture. “You live on the lake?”
He turns onto Lakeview Drive. “Yeah. I love it out here. I have a great view. And it’s only about five minutes from the clinic.”
We pass three houses before Connor pulls the truck into the driveway of a two-story modern log cabin. Lights glow all around in the landscaping and from the large wraparound porch. Tidy shrubs mingle with flowers and decorative rocks.
He nudges my knee. “You ready?”
I can do this. It’s not like he’s asking me to go in the lake, for crying out loud. Just because I haven’t been out here since that night my life fell apart doesn’t mean I can’t handle it. I am tough. I am woman. I held a flashlight during a foal’s birth.
Connor unlocks his front door and holds it wide open with his hip. “Make yourself at home.” He throws on some lights. “Give me ten minutes to shower and change.”
“This better not be the point where you come out wearing something more comfortable.”
“You wish.” He tosses me the remote, then hustles upstairs.
Log beams hold up the tall ceiling above me. A stone fireplace takes up most of one living room wall and stands ready to warm up the entire cozy home. I pad across the shiny oak floors and collapse onto one of the oversized leather couches. Flicking on the TV, it soon becomes a drone in my ear as my head lolls back into the cushions. Grabbing a burgundy throw pillow, I wrap my arms around it, burrow deeper, and close my eyes.
My own scream wakes me up. I fight with a blanket, desperate to get it off my body.
“Maggie.” My eyes struggle to focus as Connor’s hands shake my shoulders. “Maggie, wake up.”
I shoot to a sitting position, my chest heaving in ragged breaths. Dragging my knees up, I rest my head on them and just try to gather my wits.
His hand caresses the back of my head. “You okay? I was just coming to check on you when I heard you yelling.”
I sniff and pull together a smile. “I’m fine.” My laugh is nervous, forced. “It was just one of my mom’s little visits again.” Lord, swallow me up now. How embarrassing. “Really, I’m okay.” My mother. She was there. Again.
The couch sinks as Connor settles beside me, his leg against mine. “Want to tell me about it?”
“It’s nothing.” But this nothing is consuming my life. I’m afraid to go to sleep. I’ve been watching TV until the wee hours of the morning just to avoid it. And I’m nights away from succumbing to those infomercials and buying a Boflex, hair removal cream, and a magical potato peeler.
“You called out for her,” he says quietly.
I shrug and offer a wobbly smile. “I’m fine.” I hold up a corner of the plaid blanket. “Where’d this come from?” How long was I out? Was I snoring? Drooling?
“I covered you up about thirty minutes ago. When I came down from my shower, you were passed out.”
My face flames with instant heat. “I’m usually a little more fun on a date.”
His heavy gaze drops to my mouth, then slowly travels back to my eyes. “Is that what this is? A date?”
“No! Not a date. Totally not a date. Just you, me, dinner, drunk Debra, the band, one dance, no dessert, some horse business, my nap, and you taking me home.” I pause for a breath. “Definitely not a date.”
“Good thing.” His voice is low, hypnotic. “Because if this were a date, I’d probably have to kiss you at this point.”
“Yeah.” I can’t take my eyes off his. “I wouldn’t want that.”
“You did seem a little rusty last time.”
“Rusty? I am not—”
With a laugh, his mouth captures mine. “Why can’t I leave you alone?”
I twine my arms around his neck. “Wish you would.” And then I prove just the opposite, allowing myself to fall into his strong embrace, letting his mouth settle over mine.
My fingers thread through his thick hair as I press my face closer to his, change the angle of the kiss, and let passion weave its way into the locked-tight spaces of my heart.
Long moments pass before Connor pulls away, resting his lips above my eyes, rubbing them across my temple, then drawing me in for a hug. I wrap my arms tightly around his back and feel the slow, lazy circles he rubs against my shirt.
And as my pulse begins to recede, reality seeps back in. This cannot be happening. I don’t have time for this. Why now? Why this man?
His gentle fingers massage the base of my neck, keeping me tucked tight. “We should probably slow things down. I’m a guy with boundaries.”
Dude, I live and die by boundaries. “That makes two of us.”
“At least we agree on something,” comes his low reply.
He keeps up the gentle caress, and my eyes shut with each relaxing sweep of his hand.
“Want to tell me about the dream?”
“No.” I don’t want to talk. Don’t want to move. I feel like if I stayed here forever I could actually sleep. Could feel safe. Sheltered from everything that presses down on me.
Just Between You and Me Page 15
