If he stayed, he’d have to deal with Maggie more directly. She wanted more than his body. It was hard to believe she even wanted that. But eventually she’d want commitment. She needed, deserved someone a lot more reliable than him. What did they say—a recovering alcoholic was only one crisis and one drink away from the bottom of the bottle.
He had to build a stronger shield around his heart, that was for sure. Johnny’s accident had proven that. He never cried, and here he was blubbering over people he hadn’t even known a year ago. Sometimes he missed the drink—at least it was good at blurring emotions. You didn’t feel as deeply. Not pain, not…he shook his head.
He had no business thinking about such things. That was another thing about a good drunk, you didn’t think so much. His skin crawled at the thought of it. Booze had kept him from being who he really was and what he wanted to be. It had provided a fragile shell of a reality. He wasn’t going back there, no matter what.
Ed slowly opened his eyes to see sunshine pouring through the hospital window. The storm squall, long gone, had delivered no rain. Still asleep, Maggie was slumped beside him on the small couch, his arm resting on her shoulders. When he stirred, she yawned and pulled herself up to a sitting position.
“Mommy.”
Maggie turned her head toward the hoarse, sleepy voice. “Yes, Johnny. Yes, baby. How are you?” She moved to the bedside and rubbed his uninjured hand.
“Mom, you said you’d never ever call me baby again.”
Ed chuckled.
“I’m sorry,” she murmured with a catch in her throat. “I forgot. Forgive me this once. Okay?”
“Okay. Only this once.”
The towheaded boy’s smile reminded Ed of a ray of moonshine on a clear, cold wintry night. In fact, he hadn’t noticed until now that Johnny had his mom’s smile.
“So, how are you, young man?” asked Ed, a bit more gruffly than he had wished.
“Fine,” was the whispered response. “You’re not going to keep me away from the horses are you?” Johnny’s voice became stronger, his eyes widening in fright.
Grimacing, Ed took the boy’s good hand and squeezed it. “No, of course not. Don’t think you’re going to get out of doing chores that easily. Reckon you won’t make the same mistake twice. But we will have to spend some time going back over the basics of safe horse care. Okay?”
“Okay. I know I screwed up, Ed. Thanks for helping me.”
“Yeah.”
“Hey, you guys—it’s nice to see this male bonding thing. But what about the mother? Don’t I get to say if he continues with the horses?” Maggie arched her eyebrows high.
“No.” Both males responded in unison.
Maggie beamed broadly. “My men. You guys are going to gang up on me.”
Ignoring her possessive reference, Ed kidded, “It’ll take a lot more than a couple guys to gang up on you.”
Johnny giggled and then sobered quickly. “Mom?”
“Yes.”
“Will I still be able to go to camp? It’s two weeks away.”
Ed studied the boy and his mom. They were now communicating on a level he didn’t know. He suspected the boy was pulling on his mother’s heart strings. And she was weighing the merits of clinging to her son or allowing him to grow up.
After a very long pause, Maggie responded, “If the doctor says it’s okay, then you’ll be able to go to camp.”
“Hurrah!” cheered the boy, pounding the air with his uninjured arm. “I asked him last night before they gave me the shot. He said he’d bet I’d be able to go.”
“No swimming,” Maggie demanded. “Crafts may be difficult, but I’m sure you’ll manage. Guess we’ll have to see what you can do in two weeks time.”
“Time can heal most anything,” growled Ed. “At least that’s what folks say.”
Maggie stared at him quizzically. “Does it heal broken hearts and shattered egos?”
Ed gave the blond sphinx the blankest look he could muster.
CHAPTER NINE
Drip…drip…drip. The kitchen faucet droned on.
“Dammit. Ed, would you fix my dripping faucet sometime today?” Maggie sighed heavily. “It never stops. Between it and this stifling August heat, I think I’m gonna go batty.”
Ed drew his attention from the pedigree books spread out across the kitchen table to look over at Maggie. He didn’t know if she was more likely to faint from the heat or jump out of her skin. It had been like that since the kids had left for camp. Ed wiped moisture from the end of his nose. He hoped the kids were cool by the lake.
“I’ll get a pipe wrench after we’re done here. Hip Number sixty-six looks promising,” he commented, running his finger down a page in a fall auction catalogue.
He glanced back at Maggie. Her eyes had glazed over as if she didn’t give a damn about Hip Number sixty-six. The heat wave was causing humans to wilt as well as plants.
He didn’t have to be a mind reader to know she also worried about her family’s future. And she had every reason to worry. The crops were essentially a bust, though he knew she did have crop insurance. The horses were holding their own in Chicago, but that could change in a flash. She had to develop a credible, quality breeding program in a short amount of time.
They had to select some broodmares at the major fall sales to go along with Midnight Dancer, who he still hoped she’d buy. That was one fine piece of horseflesh.
“I don’t know, Ed. Maybe we’re just fooling ourselves.” Maggie wiped her brow with the back of her hand. “I can’t use up all my reserves buying horses. I have to keep some aside for making it through the winter and next spring’s planting.”
“That’s understandable, but broodmares are the best way to go for the long haul. If you can’t afford them this fall, so be it, but what you’re learning now about breeding and pedigrees is important whenever you buy.”
“Suppose you’re right. But if something good doesn’t happen fairly soon, I’m not even going to be able to afford Midnight Dancer.”
Ed saw the disappointment on her face and winced. He’d been wondering about Dancer and whether Maggie would be able to swing that deal. Ignoring a warning gong clamoring in his head, he closed the pedigree book. “Tell you what, Maggie, if you can come up with half of the price for Dancer, I’ll come up with the other half. We’d split all costs and profits right down the middle. What do you say?” He couldn’t believe how rapidly his heart pounded.
Maggie cocked her head sideways. Slowly she started to grin. “Harrington, you’ve been holding out on me. I thought you were down and out when I found you.”
Ed’s lips thinned. He had no plans of sharing his life story with this woman. “Let’s just say I have a fair amount of reserves that I never drank up. Or maybe you got to me before I sank that low.”
She shook her head.
He didn’t like the fire he saw building behind those blue ovals. “Well, do you want to buy the Dancer or not?”
“Of course, I do. And I like the idea of being your partner.” Her teeth looked especially white and gleaming. “I like that a lot.”
“I’ll call Travers later today and let him know. I’d like to get the mare purchased before he gets too antsy. We won’t move her down here until later in the fall. I just don’t want you to lose the Dancer.”
“Thanks, partner.” Maggie reached over to shake his hand.
Ed dropped her hand like it was diseased. The biggest problem he had working with Maggie Anderson was keeping his hands off of her. And now he had just muddied the waters further because of a damn good broodmare. Well, it was one way to get back into the business.
Yet, she was the boss. He didn’t really mind that, but she was a landmine waiting to explode in his face. She wanted him to be more than her hired hand. But if he succumbed to her wishes and his sexual urges, what would they have then? It wouldn’t work. You just couldn’t screw around with the boss. He knew that. Sometimes his body wanted to forget.
And n
ow they were partners.
He reached for another sales catalogue and began thumbing through it. Usually he could ignore Maggie when necessary—it was painful walking around half aroused much of the time. He doubted she had any clue how easily she turned him inside out.
Try as hard as he might, Ed couldn’t shake the memory of her in his arms, of her taste, of her scent, of her scorching heat burning his fingers. Avoiding her overtures was harder now that Carolyn and Johnny were away. There was little to stop a tryst from happening, except his certainty that it wouldn’t work. Maggie wasn’t the type of woman who would be satisfied with a fling. Nor was she the kind of woman with whom he’d want a fling. She was too innocent. Too serious. Too fragile. Too strong.
Ed peeked at Maggie. Was she unaware, even now, of the provocative, impish picture she presented sitting across the table from him in a faded print sun dress with the top three buttons undone in surrender to the intense summer heat? Curves of soft ample breasts made the plain dress the most seductive he’d ever seen. Perspiration outlined shadowy nipples.
Large blue baleful eyes caught him staring. They looked soft, filled with innocence and surprise.
Ed slouched more, unable to look away.
- o -
Her brain had nearly turned to mush listening to Ed’s lecture on pedigrees. It was too damn hot for much of anything to penetrate her brain. Yet his startled stare just had. What had set him on edge—something he’d said, or something she’d done? She liked the idea of sharing Midnight Dancer with Ed. For one thing, it meant they could afford to buy the mare. And for another, partners had a harder time avoiding one another.
Even with the kids gone, he’d made no move to take her to his bed. Maybe he didn’t find her attractive or interesting after all. But no, she remembered vividly his stiff arousal the evening she’d visited him in the loft apartment. He wanted her. So why the hell didn’t he do something about it?
Unsettled by her own yearnings, Maggie colored slightly, glancing away under his inquisitive stare. Had they come to this? Paralyzed by the sexual tension hanging between them?
“Damn this heat. Damn that faucet.” she said, standing up and pushing her chair away. She went to the refrigerator and opened the door wide, closed her eyes and turned around in front of it, lifting her short cropped hair off her nape so the coolness could reach her skin as quickly as possible.
Opening her eyes gradually, she saw Ed turning red, gawking at her. Oops. She’d given up wearing a bra on these hottest of days. If it bothered him, so be it.
Ed’s gray eyes turned to slate but failed to mask smoldering emotions. She had his attention. Maggie marveled at his self-control.
This sexual impasse could not continue without resolution. Breathing shallowly, Maggie decided to find out where she and Ed were headed. Enough waffling. One way or the other, she had to know. Now!
Returning Ed’s gaze boldly, she stuck her tongue out playfully and cupped a breast in each palm. In a low hushed voice, she muttered, “Well, well, Mr. Harrington. Cool Mr. Harrington. Have you finally noticed something you like?”
He choked. She thought his eyes were going to pop.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. What do you think you’re doing?”
“Don’t you, now?” Pretending to pout, she bent at the waist and rotated her upper body suggestively. Silence enveloped the kitchen with the exception of the steady drip of the faucet.
His ragged breath sounded like that of a drowning man. She watched his eyes narrow and focus on her nearly bare breasts.
Maggie straightened and tousled her hair, glancing at the God Bless Our Home plaque on the opposite wall. “I know one thing,” she said, “I’m hot as hell, and I need to cool off.”
Reaching into the freezer compartment, she retrieved several ice cubes. Swiftly, two cubes disappeared down the inside of her dress. She shivered as her breasts soaked up the frosty moisture.
Frowning at her own daring, Maggie spread her legs and pressed two more ice cubes against the dress fabric covering her crotch. With half shut eyes but keeping her gaze glued to Ed’s, she swirled the cubes around and around until only a large wet impression highlighted her mound.
Shutting her eyes completely, Maggie resolved to continue her brazen act of seduction. It wasn’t an art she’d ever learned much about, but then she’d always considered herself a natural learner. She’d mourned long enough. For too long she’d been alone and unloved.
Slitting her eyes open, she was pleased with Ed’s perplexed scrutiny. Giving him a lopsided grin, smoothing her dress, she marveled breathlessly, “That may help some…You want some?” She extended her palms, holding more cubes.
- o -
Ed’s brain buzzed trying to log in Maggie’s words and actions. Had she finally gone over the edge? Was it just the heat? Why would she pursue an old broken down horse like him?
Doubts notwithstanding, his arousal was immediate, hard and painful. He ducked, cringing at the too innocent-appearing woman skipping toward him with devilment filling her eyes and three more ice cubes in her hands.
Frigid fingers grazed his bare arm, sending goosebumps chasing each other. Maggie placed herself behind his chair and then let ice cold water drip through her cupped fingers onto his neck. Ed opened his mouth to protest; words evaporated in the heat.
Chuckling softly, Maggie slipped one small cube down the back of his blue work shirt while sliding her cool moist lips across the base of his nape. “Maybe this will help you cool down some.”
Closing his eyes, Ed tried to relax, certain her words were far from true. Even the relief of ice against heated skin could do little to ease the conflagration consuming his body.
Bobbing from foot to foot, Maggie reached around and placed another cube down the front of his shirt. Her hand followed, rubbing the slippery cold into his upper torso.
He tried not to shudder.
“Don’t run from me again.”
Ed shivered. There was no way he could run—his legs had liquefied. The feel of her breasts crushing against his back had his toes curling. His too-obvious erection spoke louder words than he could manage.
Maggie moved in front of him and knelt down to rub the last ice cube with great care along the length of his rigid arousal that strained against the denim.
“Don’t reject me, Ed. This is okay. We’ll work the implications through as we go. I’ve known for some time this was inevitable. I think you have, too.”
Ed grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her roughly against his chest. That corner of his mind which usually blew the bugle of retreat when Maggie pursued him was eerily quiet. He spoke hoarsely into her hair. “I can’t deny I’ve fantasized about you for a long time, ever since that day on the sidewalk. You looked like such an angel then. You still do. But you shouldn’t have to settle for a guy like me.”
“Humph,” she grumbled into his shirt, “shows you how much you know about women, particularly this woman. And I’m no angel. Don’t try putting me on some pedestal with off limits signs posted all around it. I’ll have none of that. I want to be kissed. I want to be touched. I want to be loved.”
“You sure it’s not just the heat or that cranky faucet that’s got you all riled up?”
Leaning back to look him straight in the eye, Maggie smiled thinly, tracing a finger across his lips. She whispered, “No temperature, no drip could make me feel what I’m feeling right now. I have a thirst that only you can quench. No ice cube is going to succeed at that.”
He nodded, lowering his lips to meet hers. She tasted as tart and sweet as he remembered. Her tongue sought his. He reciprocated. She put her arms around his back and held him tight. He lifted her until she sat on his lap.
The kiss had gone from testing to bruising. He wanted to climb into her delectable mouth. She arched her back, pressing harder against him.
He broke away from her lips gasping for air. Her lips were full. There was a bruise on her neck. Had he been that rough? H
e gulped in air trying to slow down, not wanting to be a Neanderthal. But she continued rubbing her bottom against him like they were running out of time.
Unable to withstand more of that, he abruptly stood her on her feet. Then he licked beads of perspiration from her throat. He laved first one earlobe and then the other. He bore into her ear suggestively.
Ed stopped. Maggie froze.
“Where?” he asked, gruffly.
She groaned, clutching him tighter. “Why not right here? The tiles are clean and cool.”
“Babies?”
Chuckling, Maggie unwrapped herself from his arms, kicked off her flats and stepped to the counter, where she rummaged in her purse. She let out a sigh of relief and handed him a thin disk. “I’m told this is quite effective,” she whispered, with a catch in her throat.
“Thought the man was supposed to be prepared.”
“Figured you might never take the initiative, and, if you did, lack of this kind of preparation would be another convenient excuse for you to back off. So,” she giggled, “I took things into my own hands.”
“So I’ve noticed.” Her half smile and shimmering eyes spoke loudly of her conniving. He’d had no more chance at escaping her charms than a fly caught in a spider’s web. Why had he struggled so hard for so long?
Her fingers reached for the buttons on his shirt, then spread across his bare chest. “Yes,” she purred, “the kitchen will do just fine.”
Stepping back from him, she unbuttoned her dress to the waist, shrugged her shoulders, and bared her upper torso.
Ed held his breath as two exquisitely round breasts greeted him. Plopping back down on his lap, she rubbed taut nipples across the hairs of his chest.
Drip…drip…drip. The only sound to be heard was the steady tapping of water slamming against the stainless steel sink. They clung to each other for a long moment.
Heat Wave (Riders Up) Page 12