What's Cooking?

by Sherryl Woods

  He saw what she was driving at. Once the farm was sold, they would have no choice but to make the best of it, even if they hated Atlanta. “Would you have to sell the farm before you make the move? Maybe you could stay with Ellen for a few months to see how you like it.”

  “That’s not an option. Her house is too small. We’d be an imposition, even for a short time.” She gave him a sly look. “There is another possibility, though, one that could solve everything.”

  Rick wasn’t sure he liked the sneaky glint in her eyes. “Oh?”

  “Why don’t you buy the farm?”

  He stared at her in shock. “Me? What would I do with a farm? I’m a photographer. I travel. The place would fall to ruin while I’m gone.”

  “Then hire someone to run it when you’re away,” she suggested, then added, “or marry someone who’ll stay right here while you’re on assignment.”

  He stood up and backed away from the bed as if he were retreating from danger. “I knew you were meddling,” he accused.

  “Oh, sit back down,” Sally ordered impatiently. “You know you love the woman. Stop dillydallying.”

  He studied her with a narrowed gaze. “I don’t see how this solves your problem.”

  “If you had the farm, it would be as if it were still in the family,” she explained, her expression wistful. “Maybe Matthew and I could come to visit from time to time. Moving doesn’t seem so final. Maybe Matthew could even help you run it for a few months each year. It would be the best of both worlds, at least for as long as we’re able to travel back and forth.”

  The whole idea was outrageous, but it slipped right past Rick’s well-honed defenses and grabbed hold. “I don’t know, Sally,” he protested, even as he began imagining how it could work. It would tie him to these people—give him a family, in a way—forever. To his dismay, or maybe his delight, he could imagine growing old here with Maggie, raising kids, just as Matthew and Sally had done.

  “What does Matthew say about this scheme of yours?”

  “He says I’m not to pressure you.” She met his gaze. “But I don’t see this as me being a selfish old woman, Rick. I see it as giving you a chance to do what I know you want to do, whether you’re ready to face it or not.”

  “Let me think about it,” he said eventually.

  Her expression brightened. “You’ll really consider it?”

  “I’ll consider it,” he stressed. “But please don’t count on it, Sally. It would be a huge change for me. I’m not sure it’s a change I’m ready to make.”

  “Yes, you are,” Sally told him gently. “I see it in your eyes when you’re with Maggie. Just listen to your heart, Rick. It won’t steer you wrong.”

  “When are you coming home?” Ashley asked Maggie, when she finally checked in during the middle of her big trial.

  “When is this case of yours going to wind down?” Maggie responded, immediately turning the tables on her.

  “We should be getting to closing arguments in another week or two,” Ashley said wearily. “It’s been a more complicated case than I’d imagined. I really didn’t call to talk about it, though. I want to hear about you.”

  “There’s not much to tell,” Maggie said evasively. She was still having difficulty realizing that she’d been at Rose Cottage for nearly two months and that Rick had been underfoot for nearly that long. She’d grown way too comfortable with the arrangement.

  When she thought of work, though, there was no denying that time was slipping by. She was already working on the November issue of the magazine and had been making notes for the Christmas issue. It was hard to think about Thanksgiving and the holidays when the August temperatures were so steamy. The weather was getting to her. She longed for the rare early mornings when a thunderstorm had cleared the air the night before, pushing out the thick, humid air and leaving behind a dry, cool breeze that unfortunately wouldn’t last past noon.

  “Isn’t the magazine getting antsy about you being away so long?” Ashley asked.

  “If they are, no one’s said anything. They won’t as long as the pages are in on time. And to be honest, I haven’t thought about coming home,” Maggie admitted, surprised by the realization. There’d been too much going on lately, especially with the daily visits to the farm to help out and the time she managed to steal alone with Rick. The pace here was quieter, to be sure, but it was never boring. Even Rick seemed content for the moment.

  “And Rick’s still there?” Ashley asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Still living at the B and B?”

  “No, actually he’s been out at the farm with Sally and Matthew,” she said. “Most of the time, anyway.”

  “Ah.”

  “Ah?” Maggie echoed. “What does that mean?”

  Ashley laughed. “It means that Melanie and Mike say that the two of you are inseparable. They say that love is most definitely in the air. I was hoping that was an exaggeration. They’ve mentioned nothing about Sally and Matthew. What’s that all about?”

  “Sally broke her hip—on the day you left, in fact. She didn’t want to go to a nursing home, so Rick moved in to help out.”

  “Oh, boy. That would explain it all right,” Ashley said, a gloating note in her voice.

  “Explain what?”

  “You falling head over heels for the guy. Sexy, intelligent and compassionate. That’s a hard combination to ignore, no matter what common sense tells you to do.”

  As usual, Ashley had nailed it, but Maggie didn’t want to admit to her feelings aloud. She wasn’t sure she could bear the sympathy if Rick disappointed her in the end. And the jury was definitely still out on that. He seemed happy enough with the way things were, but she was starting to lose hope that he would ever change enough to take a risk on a future with her. Ashley’s skepticism only seemed to confirm her own doubts.

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” she said shortly, clinging to an old spin that might have worked on someone other than her sister. “We’re still getting to know each other. That’s all. Sooner or later, he’ll go back to work. I’ll come back to Boston and we’ll drift apart. I accept that.”

  “I can tell from your voice that you actually believe that,” Ashley said. “Why? Come on, Maggie. Why can’t you trust what you and Rick have? If you don’t, that alone should tell you something, don’t you agree?”

  “Okay, okay. I know you’re right. I know I don’t trust it because he’s Rick Flannery, after all, the ultimate rolling stone,” Maggie retorted, tears stinging her eyes. That said it all. Rick Flannery didn’t do commitment. She’d known it from the beginning. She might as well accept that nothing had changed.

  Still fighting tears, she told Ashley, “I have to go.” As she hung up, she turned to find Rick standing in the doorway, staring at her with a shocked expression.

  “What are you doing here?” she snapped, her heart hammering. How much had he heard? Too much, judging from his expression.

  “I came over here to ask you something important,” he said, “but obviously my timing sucks.” He leveled a hard look directly into her eyes. “What the hell did you mean by what you told your sister just now?”

  “How much did you hear?”

  “Enough to know that you don’t think too much of me.” He shook his head. “How did I get this so wrong?”

  Maggie couldn’t understand why he was so offended. She scowled at him. “Well, it’s true, isn’t it? It’s taking a little longer than I expected, but eventually you’ll get bored with all this and go back to Boston. You’ll start doing photo shoots with all those gorgeous models again, and the next thing you know you’ll be involved with one of them. The Kellers and I will just be a distant memory.”

  He regarded her with a look that was filled with wounded pride, or maybe genuine bemusement. “Do you honestly think I’m that shallow? Do you think the last few weeks have been some sort of game for me?”

  She could tell he was furious, but she really didn’t know why. “Isn’t that the way
it’s always been?”

  He had the grace to look chagrined by the question, but then the fire in his eyes returned. “Before I met you, yes,” he said tightly. “But crazy me, I thought what we had was different. I was starting to believe in it. Obviously you still see our relationship as some sort of summer interlude. That’s your usual pattern, isn’t it?”

  She winced as he leveled the harsh accusation with dead aim, then headed for the door.

  “You’re leaving,” she said flatly, resigned to it. No matter how many times she’d deluded herself into thinking otherwise, she’d been expecting this from the beginning. It didn’t really matter that she’d been the one to give him an excuse to go. If she hadn’t, he would have found another one, no matter what he said now about having changed.

  To her shock, though, he whirled around, came back and dragged her into his arms, crushing her mouth under his. The kiss was laced with barely banked fury, but it still stirred her. She hated that he could get to her, even when there was so much anger in the air, even when it was all over between them.

  “I’m leaving, yes,” he said. “Because right this second I’m too furious to stay. But I will be back, Maggie, and we will talk about this. Nothing’s over between us. Nothing.”

  After he’d gone, his words—his promise—lingered in the air. Maggie touched a finger to her bruised and tender lips and let the tears fall.

  But rather than the bitter tears of a woman who’d gotten exactly what she’d expected from the beginning, they were tears of relief that maybe, just maybe Rick was going to prove her wrong, after all.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Is it just me, or are the D’Angelo women absolutely, positively impossible to understand?” Rick asked Mike over a beer an hour after leaving Maggie’s place. His fury was slowly but surely dying down, but in its wake was a mile-wide streak of sorrow and confusion.

  “How is it that a man who’s dated more than a few of the world’s most gorgeous creatures still doesn’t understand women?” Mike replied.

  “Those women weren’t half as complicated as Maggie,” Rick insisted.

  “How so?”

  “They wanted to be seen in the right places and they wanted me to make sure that they looked beautiful in their pictures. There weren’t all these undercurrents to trip a man up.”

  “Maybe the real difference is that you never cared about any of them enough to let them stress you out,” Mike suggested.

  “Could be,” Rick conceded. “But answer my original question, is there something about the D’Angelo women I just don’t get?”

  “I can’t speak for Jo and Ashley, or even for Maggie,” Mike said, his expression thoughtful, “but Melanie certainly wasn’t the easiest woman to read. I figured it was just me.” He grinned. “Either that, or the fact that men simply aren’t supposed to understand women ever, no matter who they are.”

  Rick lifted his beer in a toast. “I like that one. I’d hate to think I’m the only dense male on the planet.”

  Mike gave him a quizzical look. “Do I get to know what any of this is actually about, or did you drag me over here just so you could get some male sympathy?”

  Rick wasn’t prepared to go into detail, so he gave Mike the condensed version. “If you must know, I went over to Maggie’s tonight with a plan. It went up in smoke.”

  “You asked her something and she shot you down?” Mike guessed.

  Rick’s bark of laughter held a note of bitterness. “I never asked a damn thing. I walked in to hear her telling Ashley that she couldn’t count on anything with me because I’m just a shallow jerk.”

  Mike regarded him with disbelief. “She said that?”

  “I’m interpreting,” Rick admitted.

  Mike shook his head, regarding Rick with pity. “Never do that, man. Never try to interpret or assume when there’s a woman involved. It’s dangerous. It’ll come back to bite you in the butt every time. Whenever I took a stab at guessing what was going on with Melanie, I got it wrong.”

  “Amen to that,” Jeff said, pulling out a chair to join them. He looked at Mike. “Are we here to commiserate with Rick over something specific?”

  “He’s not being that specific,” Mike said. “For the moment, this is just a general discussion of female idiosyncracies.”

  “All women’s idiosyncracies, or Maggie’s in particular?” Jeff asked.

  “Maggie’s, if you must know,” Rick said.

  Jeff and Mike exchanged a look filled with barely concealed amusement. Maybe it had been a mistake to call them. They seemed to be taking a lot of pleasure in his pain. Still, he’d needed to talk to someone. If he’d gone back out to the farm, heaven knew what Matthew and Sally would have had to say. They were losing patience with the pace of his courtship as it was. For once, he hadn’t been in the mood for any of their sage advice, no matter how well-meant.

  In fact, what he’d wanted was a couple of drinking buddies who’d help him get stinking drunk. The fact that the idea held any appeal at all was a shock. That he’d turn to alcohol was proof of just how deeply he’d been wounded by Maggie’s words. It had hurt like hell finding out that the woman he loved still thought he was little better than a shallow cad. He could have sworn they’d gotten past that weeks ago, but Maggie’s uncensored comments to her sister told him otherwise.

  “How about another round of beer?” he suggested, gesturing for the waitress.

  Jeff cast another of those amused looks at Mike. “I’ll stick to club soda, I think. Something tells me this crowd is going to need a designated driver.”

  “I’ll join you, Rick,” Mike offered. “Though two’s my limit. I don’t want to spend the whole night trying to explain to Melanie why I’ve come home drunk. To be honest, you don’t want me to have to do that, either. She’ll run straight to her sister. They’ll commiserate, and we’ll wind up catching hell somewhere along the line.”

  Rick regarded him curiously. “Does Melanie keep you on a short leash?”

  Mike laughed. “Oh, pal, if that’s your idea of marriage, I think I see why things aren’t going too smoothly with Maggie.”

  “Explain,” Rick pleaded. “I really want to get this.”

  “Seriously?” Mike asked.

  “Yes, dammit!”

  Mike glanced at Jeff. “Feel free to jump in anytime,” he told his friend. “Okay, here it is in a nutshell. Marriage is a partnership. When it works, both people get what they want. Sometimes that takes a little compromising.”

  “Which means you give in,” Rick guessed. In his experience, the only way to keep a woman happy was to do everything her way.

  “The man is a real cynic, isn’t he?” Jeff noted. “No, pal, compromise means both people give a little. Or you give in on one thing and she gives in on another. Things balance out.”

  Rick nodded, taking that in. “Okay, partnership and compromise. What else?”

  “Friendship,” Mike said.

  “Respect,” Jeff added.

  Rick lifted his beer in another toast. “Respect, that’s it,” he said triumphantly. “That’s what’s missing between Maggie and me.”

  “You don’t respect Maggie?” Jeff asked, looking incredulous.

  “No, no, no,” Rick insisted. His words were beginning to slur a little. He was actually getting drunk. He couldn’t remember the last time that had happened. He’d vowed years ago never, ever to use alcohol as a crutch the way his mother had. “Maggie doesn’t respect me. She thinks I’m a scoundrel.”

  “Really?” Jeff asked, fighting a grin. “I don’t suppose all those stories in the tabloids contributed to that opinion, did they?”

  Rick shook his head. “Haven’t been in the tabloids. Not for weeks and weeks.”

  “Since you’ve been here,” Mike said.

  “Exactly.” He was beginning to feel very sorry for himself. “Been loyal and faithful for weeks and weeks, and what does it get me? Not one thing. She still doesn’t trust me not to take off on her.”
r />   “Have you told Maggie you love her?” Mike asked.

  “That was the plan,” he said sorrowfully. “It all went to hell.”

  Jeff regarded him with confusion. “What plan?”

  Mike’s expression filled with sudden understanding. “Tonight’s plan,” he explained to Jeff, then turned to Mike. “You went over there tonight to tell her you love her.”

  Rick tapped his beer bottle against Mike’s. “And to ask her to marry me.” He shook his head sadly. “Never got that far, though.”

  “Because of something you overheard her say to Ashley,” Mike concluded. “Oh, man, you are such an idiot.” He leaned forward and regarded Rick intently. “Go home. Sober up and go back over there tomorrow with enough flowers to fill the damn place. Don’t cut them from the garden over there, either. Buy them.”

  “You really think the flowers will change the way she thinks of me?” Rick asked.

  “Hell, no,” Mike told him. “But they’ll get you in the door. After that, start tap-dancing as fast as you can.”

  “I can’t tap-dance,” Rick said, confused.

  “Not literally,” Mike explained patiently. “Start talking and don’t let up until you’ve gotten through to her. Now do you get it?”

  For the first time since he’d left Maggie and let his temper cool into something that felt more like hurt, Rick felt hopeful. After all, the entire world knew what a smooth talker he was, thanks to his tabloid reputation. Maybe this was one time when living up to that reputation could actually serve his purpose.

  Maggie waited for hours for Rick to turn up again so she could apologize for her possibly unfounded accusations and they could start the evening over.

  As it grew later and later, though, her own temper began to heat up. How had she wound up on the defensive for merely expressing the truth? He’d certainly said or done nothing to dispel her impression that their relationship was going to end as badly as all her others. It was just taking longer than she’d expected to get to the final breakup.