by Gail Hewitt
She nodded in agreement.
"You don't see the difference?" he asked, still frowning.
"I just don't see the point," she said, beginning to feel let down. She couldn't understand this irrational jealousy. He was beginning to act just as he had last December when she'd refused to turn down Tom's job offer and he'd given her the big ultimatum and she'd handed back the big diamond he'd just given her. Was life with Miles going to be one display of jealousy after another, one ultimatum after another?
"He's just a guy you knew a long time ago," Miles persisted stubbornly. "I'm your fiancé. Don't you think that gives me some right to want to know about your past?"
"I haven't asked you about yours, which I suspect has been a lot more interesting than mine." She managed a grin, trying to lighten the mood.
"Fair enough," he said, thinking about it. He took her hand, and they began to walk again.
After a few minutes of silence broken only by a bird call from deep in the woods that covered the side of the drumlin overshadowing the lake opposite the hotel, Miles gave a sudden laugh.
"What's so funny?" she asked.
"I know what we can do. Let's trade questions. You ask me one question about anything in my past, anything, and I'll give you the most-honest answer I can. Then I get to ask you one question, and you have to answer as truthfully as you can."
"Just one question, huh, that'll satisfy you?"
"Well," he said, "make it five. Each of us gets to ask the other five questions."
She considered the proposition and shook her head. "I think it's dangerous."
"How so?"
"Just think about it," she said. "Right now each of us knows the other has had a past. I mean, we're adults. It's inevitable. A sensible person accepts that. It'd be nice to think that each of us was the other's only romantic attachment, but that's just not possible. Given the fact that there's a past out there for both of us, except for Aimée Girard and Tom Scott it still doesn't have faces or any details attached to it, nothing to grab onto and get upset or shocked about. Why not just keep all of it vague and let it go, knowing that the past is in the past and so doesn't have anything to do with what's going on between us now? I don't see any benefit in going over old stuff."
"It sounds sensible when it's put like that," he admitted, "but I don't think I can do it. I've got to know, or I'll always wonder."
She'd never seen him look more serious or more sincere.
Her instinct was to tell him to take a hike, preferably on the not-quite-frozen lake, but it was acting on that kind of impulse that had ended the shortest engagement on record last December. She bit her tongue, and forced herself to take a deep breath and regroup. She thought the idea was screwy, but why not defuse the immediate situation and deal with it later, when both of them weren't so wound up?
"Assuming I agree, when and where do you propose we do this Q&A?" she asked, trying not to sound as irritated as she felt.
She was being sarcastic, but he took her seriously.
"It's getting colder and the wind is coming up," he said, "so outside isn't much of an option, and we need privacy for this. Let's go back to the room, order in some beer and pretzels, and poke the fire."
She sighed. "I still think it's totally counterproductive, but I can see you aren't going to let it go."
He was evidently really keen, for he immediately picked up the pace. They practically speed-walked to the head of the lake, past the byway that led to the Executive Lodge, and down toward the porch outside the Tea Lounge from which they'd started.
As they passed, there was the sound of male laughter from the Executive Lodge, and she suddenly remembered her one time in the place, last December, when she'd been summoned by Jameson Halbrooks to meet Tom Scott so he could work out his issues, so that he could "forgive" her for dumping him all those years ago. Tom forgive her? What a laugh, when it was he who'd disappeared so abruptly from her life, leaving her in such misery that she'd thought she'd die. But that had all been straightened out. Each of them had been wrong. No one had abandoned anyone. It had all been a horrible misunderstanding. She remembered the civility of the conversation in which they'd each learned there was no fault, no foul. She remembered, especially, how calm and collected Tom Scott had been when they'd had that oh-so-casual chat in front of the fire as all his retinue, his billionaire's buddies, glared at her for keeping him from his usual business routine which continued wherever he went. Her bad mood grew worse as she remembered his later admission that he'd been feeling anything but calm. And that was definitely unreasonable, as Tom Scott was no longer in her present. He was, once again, a part of her past, where this time he would stay, at least as a romantic possibility. There was no point in getting irritated at him for anything he did, no point in thinking of him at all.
Miles was saying something about the weather growing colder, and she forced herself back to the present, forced herself to respond appropriately.
In the hotel, people were enjoying a post-lunch lull, their overheard conversations indicating little more than a desultory planning of the afternoon's activities on this cold, sunny Sunday. Maggie looked at them enviously. It would be nice to be like that, with everything settled and no one poking and probing at things that couldn't be helped anyway.
"You're awfully quiet," Miles said as they walked down the short side corridor leading to the little elevator that would take them up to the suite.
"I'm just discouraged," she admitted. "I thought this was going to be such a nice day, and I think we're about to make a huge mistake."
"No, we're not," he insisted. "You'll see. We'll both feel better after we've cleared the air."
"The air feels perfectly fine to me," she muttered. "You're the only one who seems to be trapped in some kind of toxic haze."
He laughed, taking the comment as a joke, which only irritated her more.
Upstairs, she tried one last thing that she thought might discourage him. "If you're determined to do this big reveal – and I still think it's a mistake – the only fair way is for the first person to ask a question, but then – once the second person has answered it – the first person has to answer the equivalent of the same question about himself or herself. Then for question number two, the order is reversed, and the second person gets to go first."
He frowned.
"Too much quid pro quo for you?" she teased, thinking for a moment that the condition was too stringent for him to agree or that, in even having to think about it, he'd realize how silly all of this was.
He shrugged. "I'm game. The question is, are you?"
Yes, Maggie thought, that was the question. How was she going to handle this? Keep stalling, or just go ahead and get the whole unpleasantness out of the way so they could put this awkward moment behind them and get on with the rest of their life together?
As Miles ordered snacks, Maggie went to her bag to get lip gloss. From habit, she pulled out the Palm and looked at its screen.
There was a text. Unread. From Tom Scott. "Refusal unacceptable. State reasons and I'll fix. Love, Tom."
She depowered the device and dropped it back into the bag, feeling thoughtful.
Miles, meanwhile, had put more wood on the smoldering fire and was turning to face her, a rather disconcertingly expectant look on his face. It occurred to Maggie that Tom would never do this. When she'd refused to answer his questions about Miles, he'd simply laughed and let it go.
LIST OF TITLES IN THE LOVED ME SERIES
THE GIRL WHO ALMOST DIED OF LOVE: The Prequel to the LOVED ME series - August 2012 (anticipated)
LOVED ME ONCE - Published
Click here to preview or buy this title - which is Number One in the LOVED ME series
LOVE ME NOW - Published
Click here to preview or buy this title - which is Number Two in the LOVED ME series
LOVE ME TOMORROW - October 2012 (anticipated)
LOVED ME THEN - March 2013 (anticipated)
LOVE ME ALWAYS
- October 2013 (anticipated)