The most delicious kind of trouble.
“No, ma’am. That’s what they call seizing any opportunity to taste heaven.”
Richard’s expression looked completely sincere. Maggie almost wanted to ask him if he’d realized she was flirting with him. She couldn’t resist prodding him just a bit more.
“Well that can’t be right, as you haven’t seized anything.”
“Clearly an oversight on my part, one that I’ll correct immediately.”
He moved quickly, and before Maggie could even blink, he’d slid his free arm around her and pulled her close.
He inhaled deeply, his gaze so intent on hers she felt riveted. “I like the way you smell. Not flowers, but something light and…and just Maggie. And I like the way you feel in my arms, soft and warm, curvy, and sexy as hell against me.”
“Oh, my.” She’d heard more than one person make an offhand comment about Richard’s lack of social graces, and he’d even said something to that effect himself. But from where she was currently standing—plastered up against him, with her nipples hardening, her clit quivering, and her juices gathering—she thought his social skills were just fine.
“Yes, Miss Maggie, yours.”
Maggie didn’t get even a moment to think about that outrageous statement. In the space of a heartbeat, he laid his lips on hers and devoured her.
He tasted of coffee and a flavor she could only call Richard. The slide of his mouth on hers, the sensation of his tongue entwining and mating with hers, flooded her mind and body and soul. She drank him in even as he seemed intent on drinking her down. They meshed, and her heart raced, her blood heated, and she yearned. She yearned to feel his flesh on hers and in hers.
Too soon he tapered his oral possession, and she found herself chasing his lips as he weaned them from hers. She didn’t want the kiss to end. She didn’t want to let go of the thrilling freefall she experienced whenever a man named Benedict put his hands or his mouth on her.
“Good morning, my Maggie.”
“Mm, it is now.” Oh, Maggie, do you have to be so artless? Then Richard gave her such a beautiful smile, and in that moment she understood she didn’t need to put on an act or follow any kind of convention with Richard or either of his brothers. She could just be herself.
“It is, yes. Here, this is for you.”
“Thank you.” Maggie had never received a gift from a man before. She didn’t know what to expect. She felt pretty certain it wasn’t jewelry or chocolates. She didn’t think Richard Benedict would give her something so predictable, first time out. She looked around for someplace to set the box so she could open it, and then shook her head when she realized they hadn’t even moved from the entrance hall.
“Come into the kitchen with me, please. Would you like some coffee?”
“No, thank you. I think I’ve had my quota of caffeine for the day. But I’ll sit with you while you have yours.”
She led him through the house toward the kitchen. He stopped for a moment first, though, at the door to the parlor, clearly taking in the changes to the room. Since the last time he’d seen it, she’d found the chess table she’d envisioned, and added another armchair. Now two overstuffed chairs faced the fireplace, while a love seat stood at an angle to it, facing the bookshelves. Grandma Kate must have already gotten the word out, because Maggie had received several boxes of books. She wanted to sort and catalogue them first, before she filled the shelves.
“This is really nice. One of the differences between a B and B and a hotel is the hominess, allowing for a more personal touch. This will make your guests feel they can linger and relax. I like it.”
Maggie felt herself go all gooey inside at his words of praise. “That’s exactly the mood I’m hoping for here. I’m aiming as much for corporate guests as for tourists. I think businessmen and women would appreciate being able to unwind at the end of the day, and that’s not always easy to do away from home.”
“I think you’ve nailed it.”
“Thank you.” She couldn’t resist stretching up and giving him a brief kiss. When she headed toward the kitchen, he slipped his arm around her and walked beside her.
She liked that sensation a lot.
Maggie had left the window over the kitchen sink open. A soft breeze filled with the promise of spring wafted through the room. She could smell no ocean, but she thought it just might rain later.
It had never occurred to her how very, very different Texas would be from New Jersey. Her only thought when she decided to move here was to be close to Ginny and Benny, and yes, the men who’d become the center of her niece’s world.
The details of the place really hadn’t mattered. They still didn’t for all of that.
“Sit down, love, and let me pour you a cup of coffee while you open your gift.”
Maggie grinned. “I made the pot about a half hour ago intending to have some right away, but then…” She let the sentence fall and shrugged.
“Then you went into your office for just a moment and got swallowed up by work. Happens to me all the time.” He turned from the counter, cup in hand. “I hope you like it.”
He’s nervous! Maggie looked from him down to the small box. “I’m sure I will. Thank you for the gift, Richard.”
“How can you thank me when you don’t know what it is?”
“I can thank you because you were thoughtful enough to get me a gift in the first place. I haven’t received many.”
That’s maybe showing him a little too much of me. Maggie pretended he didn’t just send her a look of shock and instead turned her attention back to the box. The parcel couldn’t have been much more than a foot, cubed, and didn’t weigh very much.
Richard set a sharp knife on the table and she looked up. “Thanks.” It didn’t take long to slice through the tape and open the box. She removed the packing and looked at the small white and black device inside.
“What on earth…” She picked it up and looked at it. It had an on and off switch, and two buttons marked “select.” Next to the top one she read the label “base sounds” and next to the second, “overlay sounds.”
“May I?”
She nodded and Richard took the device over to the counter, plugged it in, and pressed one of the buttons.
The sound of ocean waves crashing against the shore echoed in the kitchen.
“I thought you might get to missing the sound of the ocean, especially when you’re alone, at night. I thought this might help.”
Maggie didn’t know what to say. It was the most unusual—and thoughtful—gift anyone had ever given her.
“So this should help you sleep at night when you’re missing the shore.” Richard set a cup of coffee down on the table in front of her. Then he gently lifted her chin with a single finger. “At least until my brothers and I have you naked and in bed between us.”
Chapter 9
How did I end up coming into the lions’ den for dinner?
Maggie took a moment to backtrack over her day. She’d been invited to dine with the Benedicts not once but three times. The too-sexy men had each issued an invitation as they’d happened to “drop by” her inn during the day.
Kevin’s arrival had happened around lunchtime, about fifteen minutes after Richard had left. He’d brought her a gift, too, of sorts. He’d stopped at Kelsey’s and then arrived with lunch—just soup and a sandwich—which he’d then set out on her kitchen table for her to eat. He’d kept her company while she’d done so, making her laugh as he’d told her tales of growing up a triplet in Lusty, Texas.
He chided her that she’d have missed the meal altogether if he hadn’t stopped by, and he was probably right. She’d been so focused on getting items crossed off her “to do” list, she hadn’t once thought about taking time out to eat, or to relax. Kevin had managed to accomplish both without seeming to do much at all.
Of course, he’d then proceeded to lay several mind-blowing kisses on her, as Richard had done, and by the time he’d left, he
r brain had been scrambled and her hormones whipped into a creamy froth.
Kevin’s flavor still lingered when Trevor had arrived, almost at the same time as Jordan Kendall. Trevor had accompanied her and Jordan up to the third floor, and asked some questions of his cousin Maggie hadn’t thought of as Jordan measured and sketched and discussed various ideas for turning the area into a honeymoon retreat. He’d then given Jordan a hand as he reexamined the supports outside under the back balcony. Of course, Trevor hadn’t only been focused on assisting his cousin, as he proved once Jordan had left.
Trevor had somehow been able to intuit that her shoulders had stiffened up and her back was a bit achy. Once they were alone, he’d set about working the kinks out of Maggie’s tight and sore muscles and the heat into her only too impressionable libido. Several steamy kisses and caresses later, she’d once more been left little more than a blob of hormonal mush.
At no point during the day had she actually said yes to any of the invitations given her. Yet there she sat at their new kitchen table, enjoying the best pasta marinara she’d ever tasted—not to mention the best company a woman could ever ask to have at a meal.
Maggie found the Benedict men interesting as well as arousing. When they were together like this, the conversation was lively, and while they aroused her sexually, in every other way she found them a very good fit.
Oh, Maggie, your thoughts have a mind of their own.
Her appetite for food was sated, but her appetite for her hosts had begun to grow sometime between the salad and the main course.
“Would you like more, Maggie?”
She looked up quickly and met Kevin’s gaze. He held the huge serving bowl out to her, yet she couldn’t help but sense it wasn’t food he’d really been offering her.
“No, thank you. The dinner was absolutely wonderful. I probably took more than I should have. I’m totally stuffed.”
Kevin grinned and set the bowl down. “My secret is orange juice. I put just a tiny bit in with the tomatoes when I’m making the sauce.”
“Orange juice? I never would have thought to do that.”
“I can be very creative, baby. I believe the practice of trying out new and unusual things to be one of the true joys in life.”
Oh, he is so not referring to cooking now. “I’m sure you can, and you do. The problem, of course, is that not everyone has a sense of adventure or can easily take a step out on the wild side and away from the norm.”
“Ah, well the secret to success in that regard is twofold. First, one needs to be offered that adventure in a completely safe environment.” Trevor brushed his hand over her shoulder, a back-forth caress that she’d begun to crave. “And then, one needs to be given only a little of it at a time.”
Richard nodded. “Exactly! You need to start out slowly, even gently, and then gradually increase the sense of daring until you get to the point that you come to understand that the thrill really is worth the risk.” Richard had twined his fingers with hers as he’d spoken. Trevor still caressed her shoulder and arm, and Kevin—Kevin watched her with that particular look he had, the one that seemed to stroke her all over regardless of the fact he was seated at the other side of the table and not even touching her.
Maggie looked at each of them in turn, so completely at sea she didn’t know what to do next.
She’d been thinking about them—about taking them on as her lovers—for days now. Her thoughts kept going around and around with no clear line of logic emerging. She found the idea of accepting not one but three men into her body a lot less strange than it had been just the week before.
It’s likely the air, the food, and the water.
Or it could just be that what she was considering was simply considered the norm here. Certainly she was beyond the age of wanting a white picket fence and a happy-ever-after. Set in her ways, Maggie had long ago decided she didn’t want marriage and children. She’d seen too many examples of relationships where women were dominated by men who expected to be waited on hand and foot. None of her friends’ husbands seemed to give a thought to their wife’s comfort or needs.
Beyond that, Maggie liked her freedom, and being the captain of her own ship, and she didn’t want to give any of that up.
But trying new things, having an adventure or two, and infusing her life with excitement—in short, having sex—was another matter entirely.
Over the last few days she’d been kissed and touched, aroused and soothed by these three men—first together and then one-on-one. She craved more.
Maggie guessed the bottom line was to ask herself a simple question, one she’d skirted until now.
Was there any reason at all to continue to deny herself what she, and these men, all so obviously wanted?
The answer to that question was even simpler. And that answer was, no, not a one.
She didn’t announce her decision. Instead, she said, “I don’t even know how you’d go about choreographing such a thing.”
Maggie shrugged when the men all smiled. She guessed she’d once again proven she wasn’t one for fancy moves or prevarication. Her cheeks felt warm, of course. She thought that around the brothers Benedict, blushing might become, for her, a chronic condition, not necessarily likely to improve with time.
“We’ve heard stories and done some research on the matter ourselves.” Richard picked up her hand and kissed it. “But for right now, love, why don’t we all just go for a nice walk?”
Maggie felt her right eyebrow go up and couldn’t stop the imperious gesture. “I’m finally saying yes, and you want to go for a walk?”
“Well, not just a walk, sweetheart. We’ll load the dishwasher, tidy the kitchen, and then walk off our meal.”
“Ah.” Maggie tilted her head as she looked at each man. “That must be the Lusty, Texas, version of ‘don’t go into the water for an hour after you eat.’” When they appeared confused, she said, “Swimming on a full stomach can lead to crippling cramps that could result in drowning. Growing up on the shore, I heard ‘no swimming for an hour after meals’ nearly every day. It was one of those rules that every adult enforced.” She wrinkled her nose. “Makes me wonder what sex on a full stomach might result in.”
Kevin laughed, Richard smiled, and Trevor said, “Some questions are better left unanswered.”
It didn’t take long to set the kitchen to rights. Maggie noted that all three of the brothers proved proficient in dealing with the task and in keeping her from helping. Then Richard put a sweater around her shoulders, kissed her nose, and led her out the back door.
Spring definitely had taken hold here in Texas. The air was mild enough Maggie had to wonder what the summer would be like, although she was pretty sure she knew.
She’d paid attention to news stories about this part of the country since learning she had family here. The thought briefly occurred to her that she just might regret the loss of the cooling influence of the Atlantic Ocean come August.
Richard took her left hand and Trevor her right as they made their way across the slightly rolling pastureland. Kevin ranged himself beside Trevor, and they walked in a line, their pace relaxed and unhurried.
“You haven’t had a chance to visit the museum here, have you, love?”
Maggie glanced over at Richard. “No, but I want to. Ginny told me a story that first night when she came to visit me at the shore. She told me about a woman sold into marriage to a man whose heart was as black as sin.” Maggie took in the scenery then looked back at Richard. “It was an intriguing story.”
Richard smiled. “This land we’re walking on was part of that original tract, owned by Tyrone Maddox and inherited by Sarah after Joshua Benedict shot him dead.”
“Ginny said the shooting was in defense of another.”
Trevor shrugged. “Who knows what really happened back then? We’ll go with the popular version, which says the killing was a righteous one. Tyrone Maddox pulled his gun, apparently intending to shoot Warren Jessop, who at the time was u
narmed. Joshua gave Warren a shove as he drew his gun and fired back.”
“A man plots to marry and then murder a woman to inherit her coin, he deserves killing.” Kevin nodded to emphasize the statement.
Maggie agreed completely.
“This was cattle land then.” Richard nodded to indicate the land that stretched out to the north and west. “Part of the original homestead, as I said. But when the oil began to earn a lot of money around the turn of the century, the family cut back on ranching. Steven operates what is today the original Benedict Ranch, more because he’s a rancher to the bone than for any need to make a living from the endeavor. This land, here at this edge of town, as well as another huge tract just passed the airfield farther to the north, has just been left as nature intended the land to be.”
There were a few trees, and what she guessed were those wildflowers Kate had told her about—mostly blue ones—dotted the carpet of green-brown grass.
“It’s pretty. Despite keeping an eye on current affairs in this area—on account of Ginny being here—I’d somehow had the idea that Texas was flat, dry, and barren. But it’s not. There’re plenty of flowers and streams and rivers that I’ve seen, so far.”
Maggie looked behind her. The houses of Lusty were as individual as the people who lived in them, though most she’d seen were of the Victorian style. Standing there, she could see the one they’d just left—the brothers referred to it as the Grandparents’ House. She could also see her inn. She realized the cul-de-sacs in this part of town had been laid out parallel to each other. It would be a shorter distance to go out the back door of a house at the end of one cul-de-sac, and across the field to a house at the end of another, than it would to drive along the streets.
“You know it’s coming on full spring in Texas when the bluebonnets are in bloom.” Kevin indicated the flowers she’d already admired. He seemed to take in the view, and in his gaze Maggie read the same emotion she sometimes felt herself when sitting down on the beach back in New Jersey. That emotion was pride—not so much in the fact of ownership but rather the legacy of stewardship, generation upon generation, that land ownership engendered.
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