Whispered Secrets (Rose Garden Apartments Book 2)

by Elizabeth Lennox

  She laughed, toeing the ball. “This is it,” she explained. “We’ve gotten by with one ball so far. But,” she looked down at the other bag filled with pristine, beautiful soccer balls, “we’ll definitely make use of those!”

  He laughed and dumped the balls out onto the ground. He looked around, squinting in the setting sun. “This is the practice field?”

  Maggie chuckled again. “Practice and game field. We share the field on the weekends with the other neighborhood sports teams.”

  Oliver’s lips compressed and she looked around with a shrug. “It’s not so bad,” she said. “It’s big and open, so no one will get hurt. Plus, it’s so filled with weeds, that we don’t have to fight for space like we would if we lived in the suburbs and had nicer fields.”

  “Right,” he sighed. “So, what’s the first drill?”

  Maggie picked up her clipboard and started calling out names, separating the girls into squads. They did several drills; altering the practice now that there were so many soccer balls to use. For the next ninety minutes, Maggie took half of the team while Oliver worked with the other half. She taught defensive skills and Oliver worked on offense. When the practice was over, the girls were exhausted, but also exhilarated. As they left the field, collecting orange cones and soccer balls as they went, they were laughing and smiling, high fiving each other as they talked eagerly about the next practice.

  In a sudden panic, Maggie watched as the girls waved goodbye, leaving Maggie standing beside Oliver with the equipment at their feet.

  “You look tired,” he commented.

  Maggie glanced up at Oliver, feeling that strange swooping sensation in her stomach that always happened when she was close to him. Hence, why she stayed away from him.

  “It’s been a long day,” she replied.

  “I’ll walk you home,” he teased, since they lived in the same building.

  She laughed, but he could see the blush on her cheeks and loved it.

  He grabbed both bags, tossing them over his shoulder. They weren’t heavy, but he liked walking beside her with them in one hand and Maggie on the other side. He’d like to reach out and touch her hand, weave his fingers through hers. That was such an old-fashioned idea that he mentally rolled his eyes.

  “What’s so funny?” she asked, walking alongside him as she kicked the taller weeds out of her way.

  He sighed and looked out at the parking lot. “I was just wondering how long it has been since I held a woman’s hand. Then I realized that I don’t think I’ve ever held a woman’s hand.”

  She stopped and looked up at him. “Never?”

  He shook his head, chuckling now. “Nope. I was an arrogant bastard in high school. Didn’t really have a girlfriend. So any time I walked with a girl, it was for an ulterior reason.”

  “You…want to hold my hand?” she asked, seeming to almost choke over the words.

  He stopped and turned to look down at her. “Yeah. I’d really like to get to know you, Maggie.” He moved closer. “I don’t want to pressure you. But you…fascinate me. There’s something about you that pulls me in, but the look in your eyes tells me to stay the hell away.” His hand reached up, touching her cheek lightly. “I’m not sure which message to listen to.”

  There was a long silence as she gazed into his eyes. “I’m not sure either,” she replied honestly.

  He smiled, but pulled back. “How about if you just let me get to know you?” he offered. “No pressure.” He took her hand and laced his fingers with hers. “I suspect that you’ve had a bad relationship in the past.” He rubbed his thumb over hers. “So have I. I don’t trust women easily, but…” he sighed and looked thoughtfully up at the darkening sky. “I’d like to trust you, Maggie. If you’d let me in enough to get to know you.” He saw the wariness in her eyes. “But if you need more time, that’s fine. Like I said, I won’t pressure you.”

  Maggie opened her mouth to respond, but the words wouldn’t form. Thoughts flew from her mind. Oliver wanted…her? How…shockingly wonderful!

  “Well, I guess–”

  “Don’t answer me now,” he replied quickly. “Why don’t we drive home and you can sleep on it?”

  She smiled, thinking that she could answer him immediately. “Okay, if you want to wait for my answer, then that sounds like a plan.”

  With that, she turned on her heel and headed for his truck, leaving Oliver standing in the field looking flummoxed.

  A moment later, he pulled his head out of his ass and hurried forward. “Wait a minute,” he ordered, touching her arm. “Would you…?”

  “Yes,” she replied, then slipped her hand into his and started walking again. When he stood there, still trying to understand, she tugged, getting his feet moving again.

  “Drive me home, Oliver,” she ordered playfully as she stepped into his truck.

  Oliver tossed the equipment into the back, fighting back the triumphant smile that would probably make him look like an overly eager school boy. Pulling himself into the truck, he started it up and backed out of the parking space. But before he pulled into traffic, he looked over at her. “Does that mean that you’ll make me your famous macaroni and cheese?” he asked, hope practically dripping from his tone.

  Maggie cracked up and Oliver thought her laughter was the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard.

  “Oh no!” she argued. “You’ll have to do something pretty extraordinary for that!”

  “Fair enough. Will you let me buy you pizza then?”

  She thought about it for perhaps a half second. “Yes. That would be really nice. But you’re not buying me dinner. We’ll split the cost,” she declared.

  He stared at her for a long moment, then shook his head. “Maggie, the things that…well, never mind. Let’s get some pizza.” And with that, he pulled into traffic, grinning as he drove to the pizza place a few blocks away, where they laughed and talked about nothing in particular as they gorged on pizza.

  When he walked her to her door that night, Oliver hesitated. Another first for him. But when Maggie looked up into his eyes, he knew what he had to do. Leaning forward, he brushed his lips against hers, lightly, then pulled back.

  “Thank you for a lovely evening, Maggie,” he told her softly. Then he walked away.

  Oliver couldn’t believe it, but as he shut the door on his own apartment, he knew that walking away that night was the perfect ending to a perfect evening. Never in his life had he thought that walking away from a beautiful woman would be perfect, but he didn’t want to pressure Maggie into a sexual relationship too quickly. This was too important. She was too important!

  Chapter 9

  Maggie was going insane. That was the only possible explanation for what was going on inside her head. She couldn’t sleep, ate way too many cookies, and her brain felt as if it were spinning out of control.

  Oliver was always around! He was with her during their soccer practices on Tuesday and Thursday nights, and after every game, he walked her home, leaving her on her doorstep with a gentle kiss when he lifted her hand to his lips. On Saturday morning, he showed up at the community garden. He dug up potatoes, beets, and carrots. He plucked apples out of the tree faster than anyone else. He even hauled the harvest to the Center and helped cook it up and distribute to the neighborhood residents. That was her thing! She loved handing out the bags of whatever was harvested that day, feeling as if she were accepting gifts from the earth and sharing them with the world.

  But Maggie couldn’t ask him to stop. When Oliver was there, people laughed. He was charming and funny. He got down on his knees and played tic-tac-toe with chalk on the asphalt, then joined in an impromptu soccer game with the teens. Oliver sat with the seniors and listened to their stories. Really listened! She even stopped by the nursery one morning and caught him with three toddlers piled into his lap, reading them stories, patiently re-reading the pages whenever the children asked.

  Yep. It was insanity, she told herself. There was no other explanation
for what was going on in her mind. Every moment of the day, she thought about him. And there was no place for her to hide. He’d invaded her normal hiding places and it made her dizzy with…hope?

  No, that was impossible. She’d lost any kind of hope the day she’d left Texas so long ago.

  Hope was a pointless emotion, she reminded herself as she carried her basket of dirty clothes to the laundry room. Hope was a waste of time.

  Shoving the heavy metal door open, she sighed as she…came to a complete stop.

  “Damn it!” she muttered when she spotted Oliver standing beside a dryer, about to put laundry detergent onto his dirty clothes. Goodness, he looked adorable holding up the detergent bottle to the light so he could read the instructions.

  Maggie shook her head. “Just walk away,” she whispered to herself.

  He must have heard her mumbling because he jumped slightly and those amazing blue eyes of his narrowed in on her standing there in the doorway. Immediately, she knew she’d lost her chance for a strategic retreat. It was obvious that she was holding a ton of dirty clothes. So if she backed away now, he’d know that she was a chicken.

  Self-preservation was a funny thing, she thought. Then she realized what he was about to do and…!

  “Don’t!” she yelped when Oliver measured out the laundry detergent and his hand headed towards the dryer opening.

  “Don’t put laundry detergent in?”

  She laughed at his confused expression.

  “Correct. That would be a bad idea,” she replied, stepping all the way into the laundry room. Of course, it was Monday night and most of the other residents would have done their laundry over the weekend. Which was why she normally did her laundry on Monday, to free up the washers and dryers for others.

  “Why wouldn’t I put the laundry detergent in now? Should I put it in later?”

  Maggie couldn’t hide her amusement. He was so cute! In a sexy, overly muscular, alpha male sort of way. His arms and shoulders pulled the material of his tee shirt tight over the muscles and his stomach was impressively flat. The jeans he wore looked…amazing on his long, muscular legs and…well, there was just something inherently sexy about a man doing laundry, she thought. That might be weird, but in Maggie’s mind, it was hot!

  “Well, yes. You definitely need to put laundry detergent into the washing machine.”

  “So…what’s the problem?”

  She dumped her heavy basket on the table. “That’s the dryer. Not the washing machine.”

  He frowned at the large, metal machine, then down at the laundry detergent. After a moment, he shook his head and sighed. “Obviously, I’m new at this.”

  She laughed again. “Yeah, I get that,” she told him. “Since I was in the same situation not too long ago, I’ll take pity on you and give you some pointers.” She walked over to the line of washers. “These are the washing machines.” She pointed to the line next to him. “Those are dryers. If you put the laundry detergent onto your clothes, then turn on that machine, you’ll simply cook the detergent into your clothes and make an even bigger mess.”

  Maggie knew that she was in big trouble when he grinned. Darn it, a man who could laugh at himself was dangerous!

  “Okay, excellent tip! Put the clothes into the correct machine first.”

  With that, he grabbed his laundry basket and started loading his clothes back in. “So, is there a trick to the washing machine?” he asked.

  She laughed, unable to hide her amusement at what should be a normal task for any adult.

  “Well, the first thing you do is sort the clothes,” she explained, waving for him to bring his laundry over to the washing machine. She pointed to the washer next to hers. Oliver and she started loading clothes into the machines. “It looks like most of your dirty clothes are jeans, so I’d recommend that you do those separately. When there are multiple machines available, it’s easier to get multiple loads done quickly.”

  He stuffed his jeans into the washing machine, watching as Maggie sorted her jeans as well. “My jeans don’t fill up this washer. Why don’t you put your jeans in here with mine?” he suggested.

  Maggie froze, startled by his suggestion. She looked up at him, holding a pair of her well-worn jeans above a separate washing machine.

  Since she was still stunned by his offer, he took the pair of jeans from her and stuffed them into the washer. “We’ll save time and money doing it this way,” he explained, and reached around her to grab the other pairs of jeans from her laundry basket.

  As he did that, Maggie held her breath, realizing that she was literally cocooned by his body, his chest pressing against her back, his arms surrounding her in the most delightful, wonderful, dangerous way. She stifled a moan of desire as she gripped the washing machine tightly and closed her eyes, waiting for him to finish collecting her jeans.

  Maggie wanted to tell him that they should do separate loads, but she could barely think, much less breathe or form coherent words.

  “Are you okay, Maggie?” he asked softly, his breath brushing tantalizingly over the sensitive shell of her ear.

  “I’m fine!” she squeaked.

  His chest pressed more firmly against her back, so close that she could easily feel his muscles flex as he grabbed the last pair of jeans.

  “Yes, you are,” he said, kissing the top of her head.

  When he was back in front of the fully loaded washer, she took a slow, deep, shaky breath, trying to bring herself back to “normal”.

  “Um…” she blinked, trying to remember the next step in the clothes-washing process. She glanced over at the washing machine filled with jeans and took another slow, deep breath.

  “Does that help?” he asked.

  Maggie inhaled sharply when she saw the intensity in his eyes. Good grief, he was feeling it too!

  “Detergent,” she whispered.

  Never in her life had washing dirty clothes been an erotic experience!

  “How much?” he asked, lifting his jug of detergent.

  Blinking again to try to center her thoughts, she breathed in and out. Oliver was just…doing laundry. Right?

  “Maggie?” he prompted.

  “Hmmm?” she asked, noticing the light circle of golden yellow around his blue irises.

  He moved closer. “How much laundry detergent should I use?” he asked, his voice low and husky and incredibly sexy. How in the world could a question about laundry detergent come out sounding like a caress? It was almost as if the man was asking her how much she wanted him to kiss her!

  A lot, would have been her answer.

  “Um…” she breathed in and out again. “For a full load, measure up to the line on the laundry detergent cap.”

  Maggie’s attention was captured by his long, tanned fingers as he tilted the cup and the laundry detergent bottle slightly, trying to see a barely visible line.

  “Got it,” he said, nodding as he poured the detergent. “Just pour it in?”

  “Well, sort of…drizzle it around,” she explained. “So it is evenly distributed.”

  He did so and closed the lid. “Okay, now what?” he asked.

  “Move back,” she ordered. “I’ll show you what to do next, but I can’t have you close to me.”

  “Why not?” he asked, but he scooted over a few inches.

  She reached over and pressed the buttons. “Because my mind…” She sighed, and tried again. “Well, never mind.” She took her credit card out of her back pocket and pressed several more buttons. “There. All set.”

  When she turned around, he was right there! He reached out and held her still, pressing her lightly back against the vibrating machine.

  “What’s next?” Oliver asked. But he didn’t wait for her next instruction. Instead, he kissed her, his lips brushing back and forth over hers, caressing her. Teasing her. Taunting her lips until she let out a shaky breath and kissed him back.

  His hand lifted, gently cradling her head as he deepened the kiss further. Maggie opened
her mouth, wanting to taste him, to feel him more intimately. Unconsciously, she moved her body closer, pressing against him and feeling his body respond.

  “Damn, Maggie!” Oliver groaned, lifting her up so that she was sitting on the washing machine now. With deft hands, he pressed her legs wide and pushed his hips against hers. Maggie gasped at the intimate contact, shocked for a moment and she pulled back, staring into his eyes.

  “Do you want me to stop?” he asked, his eyes heated as his hands slid up her jean-clad thighs.

  Maggie knew she should tell him yes. So why did “No!” come out of her mouth? It was the wrong word, she told herself. But then her hands slid up his arms, her fingertips testing the hard planes and edges of his muscles. “Don’t stop!” she whispered frantically as her legs curled around his hips, pulling him in closer.

  Oliver’s response was to cup her bottom and pull her in even closer. The pressure angled her body backwards ever so slightly and the pressure was even more intense!

  Then he was kissing her again. His mouth was hard, his tongue soft, his fingers sliding under her tee-shirt as he explored her body. Maggie couldn’t seem to stop making strange noises, nor could she stop her own fingers from moving along his body. She wanted him naked and that was strange because she normally didn’t like the naked male body. Oliver was just…different. He fascinated her. Or maybe it was simply the fact that his mouth, now moving along her neck, and his hands, sliding higher against her ribs, caused her mind to stop thinking. She couldn’t focus on anything other than touching him and pressing herself against him, needing his fingers to touch her more, higher! She needed his hands on her breasts!

  “I’m going to…!”

  “Sorry!” a different voice gasped in surprise.

  Maggie jerked away and Oliver groaned as both of them looked over at the doorway to the laundry room.

  “I’m sorry!” Molly called out again, her head turned away as she backed up, trying to get out of the area.

  “Molly stop!” Maggie called out to her friend.

  “No no!” Molly replied, balancing her laundry basket on her hip with one hand while holding her other out to stop them as she backed up another step. “I’m leaving! Please…continue!”