Halfway to Paradise

by Neesa Hart

  Scott rubbed his thumb across the surface of his plum. It was soft and cool and felt just like her flesh did under his fingers. He wondered if she’d taste like plum juice if he kissed her. “Okay.”

  Maggie put her half-eaten fruit down on the tray. “You were right. I mean, some of the things you said. You were right. I have been trying to hold you off, and I’m not sure what I want.” She stood, and walked to the window. “Before—before I met you, I knew what I wanted. I wanted to make By Design a healthy business, and I wanted it to be enough to fill up the emptiness. I wanted to believe that Ryan and I could just go on with our lives and never have to face the reality of Mark’s death. It was so easy to just pretend he was on a duty assignment. It was so easy to push the grief aside, to believe that he was coming back.”

  Scott studied her from behind. Her shoulders were tense. Her back straight. He could tell she was struggling. “You can’t ignore it forever, Maggie.”

  She didn’t seem to hear him. “Then there was you, and I couldn’t pretend anymore. If Mark were still a part of my life, you wouldn’t be, and if you are, he can’t be.” She spun around. “I know this doesn’t make any sense. I’m not even sure I understand it, but, well, when you left today, it scared me, Scott. It really, really scared me.”

  Scott tossed his plum into the trash can. He crossed the room to pull Maggie into his arms. “We’re quite a pair you and I.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I was mad as a hornet this afternoon. It hurt like you wouldn’t believe to think that you were pushing me away the whole time I was trying to get close to you.”

  “I didn’t mean to.”

  “I know.” He rubbed his hands down her spine. It felt good, so damned good. “Maggie, I know you’re hurting. I have hurts, too. There are days when I miss Annie so much, I feel like I can’t breathe.” He paused. Maggie wrapped her arms around his waist. Scott continued to rub his hand down her back in soothing strokes. “But she’s gone, and I’m not, and life goes on. I also have needs. Man/woman kinds of needs.”

  “I know.”

  Scott’s hand stilled. “You know?”

  Maggie tipped her head back. “I know.”

  His hand trembled. “Maggie—”

  She covered his mouth with her hands. “Shut up and kiss me, Scott. I’ve been waiting forever.”

  He pushed her hand away, and groaned. “Lord, Maggie.” He pressed his lips to hers in a hot kiss, full of hunger and desperation.

  Maggie clung to him. She twined her hands into his hair, as she leaned into his body. Through her flannel shirt, Scott could feel her soft breasts crushed against his chest. He shifted slightly, cupping her bottom to bring her more fully against him. Maggie moaned.

  The sound ignited a fire in his belly that made his hands tremble. He felt like the top of his head was lifting away from his body. He could feel the heat spreading from his groin, shooting sparks through his blood until his pulse pounded. He turned a half-step to topple their linked bodies onto the bed. She squirmed beneath him. An inner voice warned him that they were fast approaching the point of no return. “Maggie?” His voice was a hollow rasp. “Maggie, honey, we have to stop.”

  She slid her hands under his sweatshirt. “Don’t stop. Please, Scott, don’t stop.”

  Her fingernails scored along his chest. His flesh jumped at the feather-light touch. “Maggie,” he groaned her name, and captured her lips again, promising himself he would stop after just one more kiss. Her mouth was warm and wet, and she sucked his tongue between her teeth to give him a soft, playful nip. The pressure in his jeans increased tenfold. He shuddered.

  Maggie wrapped her leg around one of his, bringing her pelvis into tantalizing alignment with his groin. He sucked in a sharp breath. She rubbed her lips against his, pushed into him, sucked at him. He felt his control slipping away.

  “Touch me,” Maggie begged. “Please touch me.”

  Scott’s body was shaking so hard, he was surprised the bed frame didn’t rattle. He had to stop. She was vulnerable. He was vulnerable. They’d regret it. Maggie started to unbutton her shirt. His mouth went dry. “Please touch me,” she said.

  Scott couldn’t tear his gaze away from the soft strip of flesh she was slowly, ever so slowly, exposing to him. Three buttons. Four. Somewhere in his brain it registered that she wasn’t wearing a bra. Maggie tugged the shirt free from the waistband of her jeans. It gaped open. Scott stared. “Maggie.” His voice was barely above a whisper.

  “Touch me,” she pleaded.

  With trembling fingers, he pushed aside the edges of her shirt. Her soft breasts spilled into his waiting palms. He flexed his fingers, and her nipples peaked against his hands. “You’re so soft,” he whispered. “So soft.”

  Maggie arched her back. Scott buried his lips in the heated cleft between her breasts. Maggie moaned. Her fingers twined in his hair, and she pressed him closer. Scott couldn’t resist the urge to taste her, to feel her. He moved his lips over the generous curve of her breast until he found the turgid peak. Maggie squirmed beneath him.

  He felt the heat of her through the straining fabric of his jeans. When he started to suck on her nipple, Maggie’s hips bucked. Scott’s breath was coming in ragged gasps. He licked and sucked at her breast. When she pulled at his sweatshirt, he lifted his head long enough for her to jerk it free. Maggie curled her fingers into the crisp hair on his chest, giving it a sharp tug.

  Scott moved to her other breast, where he lavished the same generous attention on her tight nipple. Maggie’s hands flew across his chest in erratic butterfly-light caresses. She shifted beneath him until his thigh was wedged between both of hers. Scott was so absorbed in the intoxicating taste of her, he didn’t even realize she was pushing against his leg until her body went taut beneath him. Her hands clutched at his shoulders, and he raised his head, stunned, when he felt her jerk beneath him. Her face, flushed with passion, her eyes clenched tight, was a mask of pleasure so intense, so beautiful, his breath deserted him.

  Maggie arched against him and shouted his name as her whole body convulsed in a shuddering climax. Scott stared at her. She sagged back against the pillows. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, ignoring the persistent throbbing ache in his groin. He had never in his life experienced anything quite so satisfying as the sight of Maggie going up in flames. It didn’t even matter that he was still hard. He had never been this fulfilled.

  Her eyes drifted open. She turned her face away. “I’m sorry.

  Scott reached for her chin. He forced her gaze back to his. “You’re sorry? Lord, Maggie, I’ve never experienced anything like that in my life.”

  She frowned. “But you didn’t, I mean . . .”

  He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. Sometimes there’s as much joy in giving.”

  She shivered and reached for the edges of her shirt. “I’m embarrassed.”

  “Don’t be. Please don’t be.” He brushed her hands aside and started doing up the buttons of her shirt. “I kept telling myself you weren’t ready. I knew you wanted to wait. I knew you were feeling vulnerable. I shouldn’t have pushed you.”

  “You didn’t push. I had to do all the pushing, and then you didn’t even—” She broke off the sentence. Her face turned crimson.

  Scott pressed a soft kiss to her lips. “No, I didn’t, but watching you, I damned near did.”

  “Scott!”

  “You are one hell of a lady, Maggie, and if you’d given me about ten more seconds, I’d have exploded right along with you.”

  Her eyes widened. “Are you serious?”

  Scott moved his still-hardened groin against her thigh. “Do you doubt it?”

  “Then why—”

  He kissed her again, a long, leisurely kiss. When he raised his head, Maggie’s eyes were shut. He pressed a brief kiss to each eyelid. “I wanted to watch you soar, Maggie. I wanted to know I could help you get there.” She opened her eyes. He saw the tears in them. “Please don’t cry. I
t rips me apart when you cry.”

  “I’m not crying.”

  Scott rubbed his thumb along her eyelid. He showed her the drop of moisture. “What’s this?”

  “That’s not really crying,” she said. “Not sad crying.” She wrapped her arms around him and hugged him close. “I’m just really glad you’re here, and I’m here, and we’re here together.”

  He lay with her for a while, savoring the feel of her warm body pressed against his. But he could already feel the passion building again, and he was unwilling to take advantage of Maggie’s vulnerability. Reluctantly, he rolled away. “I think I need another shower.”

  Maggie laid a hand on his back. “Scott?”

  He shook his head. “It will be better for both of us if I just take the shower, Maggie. Trust me.” He shot her a sheepish grin. “Where’s Ryan, by the way?”

  She checked the clock on the bedside table. “He’s at hockey practice. Lily and Tom said they’d take him to their house afterward. I’m not in any hurry.”

  Scott swung his legs over the side of the bed. “How about if I take a shower, and you make reservations for us for dinner somewhere?” He pressed his hand around the nape of her neck and pulled her forward for a hard kiss. “Somewhere public and noisy and bright.”

  “Like the bowling alley?”

  “That’s not such a bad idea.”

  Fourteen

  In the days that followed, Scott was given a lot of time to think about his relationship with Maggie. He had returned to Dallas, where he’d tried to settle back into his comfortable routine. Nothing had been able to take his mind off Maggie. Not the strenuous days he spent at the office. Not the two hours each afternoon he spent at the Galleria trying to learn how to ice-skate. Not even the long hours of soul-searching he spent in the living room of his apartment.

  After Annie’s death, he’d sold their house. In the year following their marriage, he had designed and supervised the construction of the large home with an eye toward the future. Annie had wanted several children, at least four. Scott had found an unparalleled joy in designing the spacious home for his wife and anticipated children.

  When Annie died, the memories had been too difficult, too cloying, too persistent. He could no longer stand to walk by the empty playroom, to stand in the solarium and picture Annie curled up in the sun-drenched rocker with a novel on her lap. So he’d sold the house and moved into an apartment in town.

  There had been very few pieces of furniture he’d taken with him. A chair, a sofa, the bed, an antique dresser had been the only pieces he’d moved. The rest had been sold with the house, and he’d purchased what odds and ends he did need at inexpensive department stores.

  Normally, it didn’t bother him. He spent little time in the apartment. He generally slept, showered, and dressed there, before spending the rest of his days at his office. Things were different since Maggie.

  Thoughts of her absorbed him, kept him from sleeping. He’d sit in the overstuffed chair in his den and stare out at the stars. He had long since admitted that he was in love with her. It had been easier to accept that than to pretend otherwise. But loving Maggie was a complicated business. The first time he’d fallen in love, it had been an easy thing. He’d wanted to marry Annie, she’d wanted to marry him, he’d placed a ring on her finger, and she’d said yes. Three months later, they were husband and wife. Neither of them had ever considered risks, or dangers, or even the possibility of sorrow in their future. Everything had seemed golden and fated and right.

  But loving Maggie, well, there was nothing easy about it. When Annie had died, Scott had known he could never love anyone the way he’d loved her. A person didn’t simply grow a new heart when the old one got broken. In a way he’d been right. He didn’t love Maggie the way he’d loved Annie. With Annie, it had been a young love, pure and uncomplicated. With Maggie, it was consuming. He desired her physically as much as he desired her spiritually.

  The thought of it made him break out in a cold sweat. How could he risk that much? How could he make himself that vulnerable?

  They had talked long into the night the day before he’d returned to Dallas. When he’d boarded the plane the following day, he’d known they couldn’t wait much longer to make a decision about their relationship. He’d already invested too much of himself. There was too much at stake.

  He’d pulled Maggie to him for a kiss drenched in longing and uncertainty, then met her gaze. “Maggie,” he’d said, “when I get back from Dallas, we need to settle some things.”

  “I know.”

  “Will you promise to think about us while I’m gone?”

  Her smile was sheepish. “I doubt I’ll be able to think about much else.”

  Scott rubbed his thumb over the curve of her upper lip. “It doesn’t matter to me anymore that I haven’t known you very long.”

  “Me either,” she confessed.

  The boarding call for his flight sounded over the airport intercom. Scott lingered a few seconds more.

  “We’d better say good-bye,” Maggie said. “You’re going to miss your flight.”

  He shook his head. “I told you I don’t like goodbyes.” He gave her another brief kiss. “I’ll see you Wednesday?”

  Maggie had nodded. “I’ll be waiting.”

  By the time Scott stepped off the plane on Wednesday afternoon, he’d replayed the scene in his mind a dozen times. He’d known Maggie was feeling vulnerable that day, and he wasn’t sure what to expect now that he would be seeing her again.

  At some time during the last evening they’d spent together, he’d reluctantly agreed not to call her while he was in Dallas. Maggie had wanted time and distance to sort things out in her mind. It went against his better judgment to give her time to brood, but Maggie had been insistent. He hadn’t wasted the five days of separation, though. He’d decided that if he couldn’t control the way he felt about Maggie, he could at least control what happened to their relationship.

  Whether she admitted it or not, he was competing with Mark for Maggie’s heart. In his mind, he settled on a plan. He couldn’t be Mark Connell, it was true. No one would ever be Mark Connell to Maggie, but then, Mark Connell couldn’t be Scott Bishop, either. And that wasn’t such a bad thing.

  His mind made up, Scott headed back to Cape Hope ready to do battle if necessary. He wasn’t going to let Maggie push him away. He wasn’t going to let her hide behind the shadow of her dead husband. He wasn’t going to let her deny what he knew she felt. He half feared she wouldn’t be at the airport to meet him.

  He nearly sagged with relief when he saw her standing toward the back of the waiting area. She waved at him over the crowd. Scott shouldered his way through the passengers toward Maggie. He dropped his suitcase in front of her, then held out the lapels of his coat. Maggie walked right into his arms. Scott felt a surge of adrenaline so intense that the blood started to pound in his ears. “I’m really glad you’re here, Maggie.”

  “I told you I would be.”

  He hugged her close. “I know.”

  Maggie looked at him curiously. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m all right. It’s just been a really long time since I’ve seen you.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “It was just Saturday, Scott.”

  “It seemed longer.” He picked up his suitcase, then draped an arm over her shoulders. “Where did you park?”

  “Short-term lot.” Maggie paused. “You’re sure you’re all right?”

  Scott smiled at her. “Maggie, I think I decided while I was in Dallas that I could be anywhere with you and be all right.”

  “Scott . . .”

  He kissed her. “We’ll talk about it in the car. Okay?”

  Maggie paused, then nodded. “Okay.”

  She had to steer him toward the door when he got disoriented in the airport. He told her about the meetings he’d conducted his last two days in the office, and Maggie listened, wondering all the while what had brought on his strange mood.
No sooner were they settled in her Bronco than Scott pulled her across the console for a hungry, illicit kiss. She was breathless by the time he lifted his head.

  “There,” he said, “that’s a proper hello kiss. I didn’t think you’d appreciate it if I did that in the airport.”

  Maggie moved back into the driver’s seat. Her skin was flushed. She could feel it. She fumbled for a minute with the keys. “I hope you didn’t forget that Ryan has hockey practice tonight. We won’t have much time together.”

  Scott grabbed her hand. He linked his fingers through hers and propped their joined hands on his thigh. “We have the trip to the rink, and the hockey practice, and the rest of the week. I’m not going back to Dallas until Sunday.”

  “Alone,” she said. “I meant we wouldn’t have much time alone.”

  Scott raised her hand to rub his lips over her knuckles. “We’ll make time.”

  Maggie stared at him. “You’re acting very strange.”

  “I made some decisions while I was in Dallas.”

  She wasn’t sure she liked the sound of that. “What kind of decisions?”

  He shifted in his seat so that he was facing her. “Decisions about you and me. Decisions about what we’re going to do.”

  Maggie felt a brief surge of panic. “Don’t you think you should have consulted me?”

  “No. These were my decisions to make. You have to make a few of your own, and then we’ll make some together.”

  “I don’t think I like the sound of this.”

  “You will, Maggie.” He closed his eyes, then leaned back in his seat. “I haven’t felt this good in months.”

  Maggie decided she wouldn’t question his strange mood. Particularly since she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to know what had caused it. Instead, she turned onto the interstate and concentrated on the traffic. Scott seemed to have dropped into a light doze. He hadn’t spoken since they’d left the airport. His fingers had loosened on hers, and from the corner of her eye, she could see the relaxed calm of his face.