by Neesa Hart
Scott watched her set the tray on the coffee table. She sat in the chair across from him. He reached for the sandwich. “Food of the gods,” he said, and took a hefty bite.
“How’s your knee?” Maggie asked.
He washed down the sandwich with a sip of orange soda. “Swollen.”
“Like your ego?”
He shook his head. “That’s deflated.”
Maggie laughed. “It serves you right, you know? You should never have agreed to skate in this game.”
Ryan was seated on the floor, thumbing through a copy of Sports Illustrated. He looked up. “Yeah. That was really dumb.”
“Thanks for the support, champ,” Scott said, then took another bite of his sandwich.
Maggie shook her head. “Ryan?”
“Yeah, Mom?”
“Why don’t you go upstairs and make sure your clothes are ready for school tomorrow?”
“I did already.”
“Have you done your homework?”
“Didn’t have any.”
“Can you find something to do in your room?”
“Why?”
Maggie grimaced. “Because I want to talk to Scott alone for a minute.”
“No you don’t,” Ryan said. He grinned at Scott. “She wants to kiss.”
“Ryan!” Maggie stared at him, agape.
Scott choked on his soda. “You think so?”
“Yeah. Why else would I have to go upstairs?”
“Ryan Connell, you do not say things like that in this house.”
Maggie looked so outraged that Scott started to laugh. “Maggie, take it easy.”
“It’s no big deal, Mom. I’ve seen you do it lots of times.”
Maggie covered her face with her hands. “How many times?” she said.
“I don’t know. Three maybe.”
Maggie groaned. Scott laughed harder. “Well, look, sport,” he said to Ryan, “can you give me a break here?”
“Scott!” The look Maggie gave him was censorious.
Ryan looked from Scott to Maggie, then back again. He shrugged. “I guess so. Do I have to go to bed now, Mom?”
She shook her head. “No.” Her voice sounded strangled.
“Can I listen to my stereo?”
“Sure.”
“Cool.” Ryan leapt up and took off for the stairs at a dead run.
Maggie stood without meeting Scott’s gaze. She reached for the tray. “I don’t know what got into him. I—”
He grabbed her hand. “Maggie, stop.”
She tried to pull her hand away. “He never says things like that.”
“Maggie.” Scott jerked her hand hard enough that she looked at him, startled. “I think it’s a very good sign that Ryan’s not threatened by our relationship. I’ve earned his trust.”
“What are you talking about?”
“The day we made the cookie tower, Ryan asked me if I was going to marry you.”
“He what?”
Scott nodded. “He wanted to know if you and I were going to get married.”
“What did you tell him?”
“I told him we hadn’t talked about it, but when we made a decision, we’d tell him first.”
“Oh God.”
“Well, wouldn’t we?”
“Of course we’d tell him first, but you let him think we were contemplating marriage. He’s probably been saying that all over town.”
Scott gave Maggie’s hand a hard tug. “Sit down, Maggie.” She dropped down onto the couch next to him. “I have something to say,” he said.
Her expression became guarded. “Now, Scott—”
He shook his head. “No. Listen to me. I love you, Maggie. You know I do.”
“Scott—”
He ignored her. “And you love me. Whether you admit it or not, I know you love me. I want to marry you. I want us to raise Ryan. I want us to have babies. I want to build us an enormous house where we can spread out and play with our kids.”
He linked his hand behind her nape to pull her toward him. “I want us to teach them how to ice-skate, and play cards, and make root beer.”
“Root beer?” she asked.
“Yeah.” He rubbed his lips on her throat. “I want to watch you design their bedrooms. I want to see you cheering at hockey games and baseball games and gymnastics meets.”
“Scott—”
He kissed her lightly. “And I want to come home at night and know that I get to spend the entire evening with my family.”
Maggie felt a sinking sense of dread. “What about me? What am I supposed to do while you’re living out this fantasy.”
“What do you want to do?” He moved his lips over her cheek.
“What if I don’t want more children?”
Scott looked at her in surprise. “Then I guess we’ll just have to lavish all our attention on Ryan.”
“You’d be content with that?”
“I want children, Maggie, but I want you more. If you’re not ready, hell, if you’re never ready, I can adjust to that.”
“But I’m supposed to stay at home and raise Ryan. Right?”
Scott’s gaze narrowed. He sensed danger. “Not necessarily.”
She pushed at his hand. “That sounds like the picture you painted to me.”
“Maggie, I have no intention of keeping you from doing anything you want to do.”
“You’re just saying that.”
“I’m not. If you want to design, then I want you to.”
“If I want to?”
“Well, of course.”
“Do you think this is just some hobby for me, something to do while I occupy my time?”
Scott ground his teeth in frustration. “Stop putting words in my mouth. I think you’re an incredibly talented designer.”
“But you’d expect Ryan and me to leave our home here and move to Dallas with you?”
“Did I say that?”
“You would.”
“How do you know?”
“Because your family, your life is in Texas.”
“My life was in Texas, Maggie. It’s not anymore.”
She ignored him. “You’d expect me to give up the business I spent a year building just because your job is more important.”
“That’s not true. If I get the Cape Hope project, I have every—”
“If. That’s a big ‘if,’ Scott. What if you don’t get it? You’ll go back to Dallas, won’t you?”
“I haven’t decided. It would depend on what you wanted to do.”
“That’s not true. You would go back, and you’d expect me to close By Design and go with you.”
“Damn it, Maggie, stop telling me what I want and don’t want.”
“Well, wouldn’t you?”
“No, I wouldn’t. Why the hell are you so convinced that I’d make you give up your life here?”
“You just would.”
“You’re being irrational.”
“I’m not. I’m trying to protect myself, and Ryan.”
“Ryan has nothing to do with this.”
“Of course he does.”
“No he doesn’t.” Scott took a deep breath. He waited for his temper to cool. “You’re not upset because you think I’d uproot Ryan.”
“He’s already been through too much. I couldn’t make him move again.”
“Maggie,” he tucked a tendril of hair behind her ear, “Ryan has been through a lot, it’s true, but I don’t think this is about him.”
“It is.”
“No. It’s about you.” He laid his hand on the side of her face. “Tell me the truth, Maggie. Just tell me what you’re afraid of.”
“I’m not afraid.”
“Come on, Maggie, I know you. You’re scared to death.”
Maggie stared at him for several long seconds. “You’d absorb me,” she said.
Scott frowned. “What?”
“I’d become a part of you, just like I became a part of Mark. I’d never know I could make i
t on my own. I’d never know I could survive apart from you. I didn’t think I could survive apart from Mark, and I was right.”
“You weren’t right.” He pushed himself up on his elbow. “Maggie, look at what you’ve done, at what you’ve accomplished.”
She shook her head. “I couldn’t make the business work, I couldn’t give Ryan what he needed.” Tears started to roll down her cheeks. “I had to tear him away from his friends and his school because I had to run away from the memories.”
“Stop,” Scott said. “Stop doing this.” He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, and guided her down so that she lay beside him on the sofa. “You’re beating yourself up over things that aren’t even true.”
“Yes, they are. Mark became my whole life. When he died, I had nothing left. I can’t let you do that to me.
“Honey, listen to me—”
“What if something happened? What if Ryan and I were alone again? What would I do?”
“Maggie,” he gave her a quick squeeze, “hush. I want you to listen to me. Just listen. All right?”
She nodded against his chest. Scott stuffed one of the napkins from the coffee table into her hand. He waited while she blew her nose. “Now,” he said, shifting her beside him on the sofa, “I want to tell you something.”
“What?”
She sounded so miserable, that Scott smiled into her hair. “When I married Annie, I was twenty-two years old. And I loved her the way a twenty-two-year-old boy loves a twenty-one-year-old girl. It was obsessive. Wild, crazy, exciting obsessive. She meant the world to me. My heart didn’t beat aside from Annie.”
“I felt the same way about Mark.”
“I know. When she died, a piece of me died with her. I think it was that piece, the piece that couldn’t breathe without her. But another piece lived on. That’s the man, Maggie.”
He tipped her head back with his thumb so he could see her eyes. “The boy is gone. The man survived. It’s the man who is in love with you. And I would never ask you, or expect you, or want you to be anyone other than who you are.”
Her mouth trembled. “But—”
He covered her mouth with his hand. “Shhh. Don’t let old demons cloud new joys.” He moved his hand to caress her cheek. “Nobody said we had to decide the entire future tonight. We’ll take it one thing at a time.”
“But what about the Cape Hope project?”
Scott gave her a tender kiss. “What about it?”
“What if you don’t get the bid?”
“One problem at a time, Maggie.”
She fell silent then. Scott listened to the ticking of the clock on the mantel, and the faint sounds of “All Shook Up,” coming from Ryan’s stereo. He smiled at the irony.
“Scott?” Maggie said.
“Hmmm?”
“What problem do you want to solve first?”
“Well,” he adjusted the ice on his knee, “I think the first thing we should do is help me live through Saturday.”
On Friday night, Maggie stared at her reflection in the mirror, wavering on indecision. Scott had insisted that they should have, as he called it, a dress-up-and-impress-each-other date. Maggie had resisted. After their stormy confrontation on Wednesday night, she wasn’t sure she was ready for an entire evening alone with him. But Scott had been so insistent that Maggie had finally relented.
She’d been regretting it all day. Lily had picked Ryan up after school, so Maggie had been left with an entire afternoon to worry about the evening. She’d gone through her closet four times. She’d tried on every dress she owned at least twice, and between intermittent scoldings about her ridiculous behavior, and frantic searches for panty hose with no runs, she’d managed to work herself into a first-class swivet.
She was supposed to meet Scott at his hotel at six-thirty. She was dressed and ready forty-five minutes ahead of schedule. Now, standing in front of the mirror, Maggie seriously contemplated changing her dress yet again. She frowned at her reflection.
She’d chosen one of the few dressy outfits she owned. It was a cobalt blue knit chemise. The dress accentuated her figure, and the cowl neckline, which draped provocatively low in the back, added drama to the otherwise simple lines. Matching pumps completed the outfit.
Mark had always liked the dress. Perhaps that was why she hadn’t worn it since his death. Somehow, she didn’t remember it being so snug. The sweaters and jeans and business suits that now comprised her wardrobe did little to enhance feminine curves. This dress, on the other hand, was meant to entice. To seduce. No wonder Mark had been so fond of it.
She wavered once more, almost opting for the more sedate floral print silk jumper, but something, whether it was the purely feminine pleasure in wearing the alluring dress, or simply the anticipation of Scott’s reaction, something made her feel daring. She snapped out the light on her bedside table, scooped up her purse, and headed for the door before she could change her mind.
She arrived at Scott’s hotel fifteen minutes early, so she decided to meet him in his room rather than wait for him in the lobby. With her coat draped over her arm, she knocked twice, and waited for him to open the door. His reaction to her appearance was no less powerful than she’d hoped for. He pulled the door open.
And stared.
His tie hung loose around his neck. His fingers were frozen in place on the top button of his shirt. Maggie felt the impact of his appraisal all the way to the tips of her toes. “Hi,” she said.
“Hi.” He didn’t budge.
She pointed to his tie. “Do you need some help with that?”
He gave her a blank look. “What?”
Maggie hid an amused smile. “Your tie,” she said. She reached for the top button of his shirt. “Do you need help with your tie?”
Scott looked startled. He stepped hastily away from the door, fiddling with the button. “Oh, uh, no. Do you want to come in?”
Maggie strolled into the room. “I hope it’s not a problem that I’m early.”
Scott pushed the door shut. In each hand, he held one end of his tie. He leaned back against the wall. His gaze was pinned on Maggie. She looked back over her shoulder. His expression was so heated, his eyes looked like molten gold. “What?” she asked him.
“My God.”
She felt a rush of purely feminine satisfaction as she turned to face him. “I guess you like my dress.”
Scott’s smile was slow, sensuous. He released one end of the tie, then dragged it from his collar with a leisurely tug of his right hand. The soft silk whispered against the starched cotton of his shirt. Maggie stopped breathing.
Scott twined the tie between the fingers of his left hand. His index finger delved into a crevice of the silk. He rubbed it slowly along the length. And took two steps toward Maggie.
She remained, frozen in place, riveted by the look in his eyes. He took one more step. She was simultaneously overwhelmed by the spicy scent of his aftershave and the warmth of his body, so close to hers. In a rapid movement, he looped the tie behind her back. He gave it a gentle tug, and Maggie stumbled the remaining step between them. Her coat fell to the floor.
Scott’s mouth was a hairsbreadth from hers. His warm breath fanned over her skin. The scent of him intoxicated her. He rubbed his lips against hers in the merest hint of a kiss. “I guess,” he said, then slid his tongue along her bottom lip, “you could say I like your dress.”
Maggie pressed her lips to his. Scott’s kiss was hungry and hot. He pressed a hand to her bare back. Maggie felt the goose bumps spread down her spine when the end of his tie tickled the sensitive skin at the small of her back. The erotic sensation made her quiver.
Scott groaned and slanted his lips over hers in a possessive kiss so full of desire, of longing, that Maggie feared her knees would buckle. She slid a hand up his chest to clutch his shoulder. She could feel the hard length of him where his groin was pressed against her belly. Scott’s hand moved up her spine. He rubbed his hips against hers, then plunged his tongue
into her mouth.
The sensation was devastating, consuming. Maggie threaded her fingers through his hair. She raked her nails over his shoulder until her hand closed around the muscled contour of his upper arm. Scott ended the kiss. Maggie dropped her forehead against his shoulder. His heart pounded a heavy rhythm beneath her ear, and he moved his hand down her spine to her lower back, anchoring her against him.
Maggie sucked in a ragged breath. “Well,” she said.
Scott’s laugh was a husky rasp against her ear. “Yeah. Well.”
“I had no idea the sight of me in a dress would have this effect on you.”
He slid the tie from her waist. “Yeah, right. You knew exactly what effect it would have on me. Good grief, Maggie, you look like a million bucks in that dress.” He scooped up her coat.
Maggie felt the pleasure of his compliment spread through her like heated brandy. She accepted her coat from him, then sat down on the side of the bed. “Thank you. I haven’t worn it in a while.”
Scott flipped his collar up. He slung the tie around his neck with an efficient flick of his wrist “Good thing. You’d have had the men of Cape Hope in an uproar.”
“You’ll have to stop talking like that or my head will swell.”
“I’m swelling,” he said, his smile wicked. “It’s only fair.”
Maggie blushed. She decided to ignore the suggestive comment. She leaned back on one hand. “So where are we going for dinner?”
He finished knotting his tie. “It’s a surprise.”
“There aren’t but so many restaurants in Cape Hope. It can’t be that much of a surprise.”
“This is a surprise. Believe me.”
“You’re going to have to tell me if you expect me to drive.”
“I’m driving.”
“Are we going to get lost on the way?” she quipped.
Scott arched an eyebrow. “That wasn’t very nice.”
“Just checking.”
“No,” he said, shrugging into his jacket, “we are not going to get lost on the way. I know exactly where I’m going.” He paused to press a heated kiss to her lips. “Although, I admit I’m tempted to just stay here.”
Maggie shivered. “We could order room service.”
Scott straightened. “Not if I want to hold on to my sanity we can’t. I’ve got no business being alone with you in a hotel room while you’re wearing that dress.”