He liked her tiny, eclectic, second-hand everything house? But he seemed sincere, and for some reason, that pleased her.
This was so ridiculous.
Then as he kept looking at her, Ian's expression turned odd. "Maybe you'd better get dressed."
Oh, dear. By referring to her state of dress, he made her aware that he was aware...
Trying not to choke, she lifted her chin, as if his words, as if the look that had flashed in his eyes—as if her own imagination—weren't shattering her self-possession. "I'll go do that."
Happiness, shmappiness, Maggie grumbled as she stalked down the hall to her bedroom. She was behaving crazy here, letting him into her house, tagging along with him and his kids to Banion's amusement park. A day of reckoning would surely come, for all her actions were being driven by nothing more than a stupid physical impulse.
Or...was that all it was?
Once they got to the amusement park, the kids ran off toward their favorite rides, abandoning the grown-ups. Maggie found herself strolling unhurriedly down the fairway with Ian. With all the people around, there was no way to fall into the subtle, understated sexual game they'd been playing earlier in the week. They were just two people, pointing out curiosities to each other and laughing.
Yes, laughing. Simply having a good time.
Maggie stole a look at Ian. He didn't appear dangerous at the moment. Sinfully handsome, yes, but also...a pleasant companion. She rather enjoyed being with him.
"Oh, I gotta try this." Ian stopped in front of the duck shoot.
"Come on, Ian. Nobody wins at these games."
Ian flashed her a mysterious look, then handed the vendor five tickets and settled against a rifle. Seven minutes later he won a pink teddy bear the size of a Saint Bernard. There wasn't a drop of embarrassment in the pride with which he handed this monstrosity over to Maggie. "I was on the rifle team in college."
"How...nice for you." Maggie struggled to find a way to carry the huge animal. "Then maybe you could put this poor creature out of its misery?"
Ian laughed. "We'll give it to Kathy. She'll know what to do with it."
"Bury it in the backyard?"
Ian's teeth showed. "You're just jealous you can't shoot as well as I can."
"Oh, yeah?" Maggie shoved the bear into Ian's hands. "Watch me."
Ten minutes later they had two huge, pink teddy bears.
"See what you do to me?" Maggie wrestled to hold the damn thing. "You make me go crazy."
"It's only fair," Ian retorted, balancing the other giant bear on top of his head. "Since that's what you do to me."
Their eyes met. Maggie knew he meant more than the fact they were holding several pounds of unwanted stuffed animals. He meant she drove him crazy the same way he drove her crazy, with thoughts of tangled sheets and hot sighs, of caught breaths and pounding hearts.
And maybe, also, with these agonizing, burning questions. Why am I doing this? Over this particular, wrong person?
"Oh, look!" It was Kathy's voice. "You have two of them." She sounded unbelievably thrilled with the fact.
Maggie's gaze was, thankfully, torn from Ian's. Her attention found a gentler focus in her niece, standing before them on the fairway. Kathy's eyes were wide with joy.
"Maybe you can give one to a friend," Maggie suggested. "Or both of them," she added to herself in a lower tone.
Ian obviously heard her and their gazes collided again. Seeing his amusement made Maggie's heart do another double-tap. For one out-of-body instant she had a new, astounding thought.
What if she kept letting Ian in because he was actually good for her? Pushed her, challenged her, thereby making her stronger, not weaker? Maybe that's what made her happy.
It was no problem for Kathy to tug the teddy bear out of Maggie's grasp.
Oh no, Maggie thought. Ian couldn't be a good choice—could he?
"Two," Kathy meanwhile enthused. Somehow, the girl managed to hold both huge teddies at the same time. "Two," she breathed. "Isn't that—? Well, two's just great!"
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
On Monday morning Ian was up early and already on his second cup of decaf by the time the kids came down for breakfast. With a grin he couldn't repress, he greeted them warmly and lounged at the kitchen table as they went about fetching their bowls and cereal boxes.
It was Monday, exactly a week since his last doctor's visit. Today he was allowed to have sex again.
"You certainly seem happy today." Sounding accusatory, Andy dropped into a chair and slapped a bowl on the table.
"Why not be happy?" Ian refused to abandon his good mood even in the face of his son's sour attitude. He could have sex again.
Oh, he knew Maggie wasn't about to fall into his bed. Hardly. But on the other hand, hadn't she already been engaging in a form of sex with him this week? What about all the hot looks and crackling electricity between the two of them? Plus, Maggie had secretly wanted him to convince her to come along to Banion's amusement park and spend time with him.
With some careful strategizing, the desired result could, in time, be effected.
"That's right," Kathy agreed with her father. Seating herself at the table, she immediately focused on the back of her cereal box. "Don't worry. Be happy."
Andy opened his mouth, clearly ready with some sarcastic retort. But after glancing in his father's direction, he closed his mouth again.
It wasn't the first time Ian had seen Andy rein himself in this way. Nor was it the first time he'd noticed a certain grimness in Andy's expression, one that he wore now while he doggedly bit into a bagel.
A twinge of conscience penetrated Ian's good humor. He should have made a greater effort to talk to Andy this weekend. The kid was obviously having trouble dealing with Ian's health issues. But when Ian had suggested doing something together with Andy yesterday, the kid had shut him down. Too much homework, Andy'd said, especially since he'd taken Saturday off in order to go to Banion's.
Perhaps Ian should have persisted, but he hadn't wanted to create more problems for Andy by eating up his time for schoolwork on Sunday, as well as Saturday.
Or had he simply wimped out, unsure how to initiate a heart-to-heart talk with his son?
"Hey, Dad." Kathy looked up from her cereal box. "Are you going to see Aunt Maggie again today?"
His concern for Andy faded into the background as Ian's grin broadened. "That I am."
"Really?" Andy swallowed down a bite of bagel. "But you don't owe her any more work." This was the excuse Ian had given for spending every day the previous week at the nursery: Maggie had given him a week of her time, now it was his turn to repay the favor.
What excuse did he have to go over there today, though? He clearly needed one because Andy's face started to wrinkle with worry.
Fortunately, he was saved by the bell. The telephone rang.
Though he was glad for the interruption, Ian threw the instrument a quizzical regard. "It's only seven forty-five. Who could that be?"
"Probably a salesman." Kathy poured herself another bowl of cereal.
"Yeah, probably." Ian reached over to lift the receiver. "Hello?"
"Ian!" A deep male voice boomed over the phone wires. "I was hoping I'd catch you at home."
Ian hadn't thought anything could tarnish his good mood. The familiar voice on the other end of the phone line did it. "Howard," he said. "This is a surprise." Indeed it was. Ian hadn't expected to hear from his boss—ever. He was pretty sure he didn't want to hear from him now.
Howard, on the other hand, gave a downright cheery chuckle. "Oh, it couldn't be that much of a surprise."
Ian thought it was, in fact, a pretty big surprise. He got up from the kitchen table. With a 'later' wave at the kids, he pushed out the swing door.
"How've you been?" Howard asked.
"Great." Ian gave a bite to the words. How did Howard think he'd been: weakly clutching death's doorknob? Ian pushed through the door into his home office.
"
Good, good," Howard said. "I'm really glad to hear that. Really glad."
Ian closed the office door after himself and took a stand behind the office desk chair. "What's up?" Though he could guess. Howard was letting him go. Making it official. Ian hardly knew if this would be more humiliation or relief.
"Well, listen. I'm glad you're all better." Howard had the decency to sound more subdued. "See, there's a— Well, you're the only one I can trust with this, Ian. The only one. We got the Kansas City job, you see, the music center."
"How...nice." Ian remembered the trips Howard had taken the month before, lobbying for Brockton Construction to get the job of managing the multi-hundred-million dollar construction project. But Ian couldn't imagine why Howard was bothering to tell him about the result. "Congratulations."
"Yeah." Howard laughed. "Buddy, this makes it almost...providential that we let Simpson take over Raleigh from you. You, our resident expert on music centers."
Ian felt his brows draw together. It was true he'd built the Center for the Performing Arts in Orange County several years before, but what did that have to do with—?
"So I'll see you about nine, nine-thirty," Howard went on, interrupting Ian's thoughts. "Bring you up to speed, all right? This is going to be one great project for you, Ian. Like the OC music center, but bigger. You'll be like a pig in mud."
Ian realized his hand was clenching deep into the leather upholstery of the desk chair in front of him. He was unable to say a word. Howard wanted him to come in—that morning? He wanted to give him one of the biggest construction projects Brockton had ever done?
"Ian, you there?"
Somehow, Ian was able to speak. "Yes. I'm here." But I don't understand. How could you give that project to me? I'm unreliable, a known quantity.
"So I'll see you later then?"
"Uh..." Ian had thought Howard was about to fire him. He'd been expecting the call, though not quite so soon. His brain was having trouble getting around the idea he was being asked to return to work—that very day.
His body, however, was having no trouble at all interpreting the news. His stomach felt like liquid. His knees had gone rubbery.
A part of him realized, dimly, he ought to be thrilled with Howard's offer. This was an opportunity to do what he'd been trained to do, what he enjoyed doing, and what made him a living. He should be ecstatic that Howard was willing to trust him.
But...how on earth could Howard trust him?
Howard cleared his throat. "Look, I'm counting on you, Ian. The client selected Brockton based on your CV at the top of the pile. They were as impressed as hell by the OC music center. They want you."
"Ah," Ian said. Question answered. Howard was trusting Ian because he had to. It was Ian's curriculum vitae that was securing the job. Therefore, Ian would be trustworthy. He would not have more heart problems.
The world according to Howard.
But Howard wasn't God. Just because he wanted something to happen—or not to happen—didn't mean it would go that way. Ian'd had a heart attack. That was a fact. He knew he wasn't the man he'd once been. He never would be. And another heart attack was a distinct possibility.
But on the other hand, this job—it was the opportunity of a lifetime.
"Nine-thirty," Howard said.
Ian felt like a fish being swept into a net. The Kansas City job was a fantastic opportunity. But only if he could handle it.
He needed time. He had to think about this. Could he handle it? Did he dare? Damn it, he needed more time!
Ian drew in a deep breath. "Nine-thirty," he told Howard, "Tomorrow."
"Excuse me?"
"Tomorrow morning I can meet with you," Ian went on. His hand clenched deeper into the leather upholstery of the office chair. "I...have other plans already set up for today." An image of Maggie, naked under her thin plaid robe, rose in his mind. Damn it.
"Oh." Howard was obviously stunned. It was clear he couldn't imagine any plans important enough to supersede the new music center.
"I'll see you then," Ian said, firmly.
"Oh," Howard said again. "But listen, Ian—"
"Have a nice day, Howard. I'll see you tomorrow."
"But—"
"I absolutely cannot and will not come in today. Good-bye, Howard."
There was a short, charged silence. The project managers never told Howard what the schedule was going to be. It always went the other way around.
Tough, Ian thought. If Howard didn't like it, he could find another project manager as experienced as Ian in constructing music centers. Good luck.
"Tomorrow, then," Howard said at last. He cut the connection, outmaneuvered, but making his annoyance plain.
Ian pushed the end button on the kitchen mobile phone. His hands were shaking.
This was his chance. He could return to his job, and in a big way. He'd seen the plans for the Kansas City music center. It was going to be huge, designed by a world-renowned architect. The place would be photographed to death and known everywhere.
He could be the one building it.
Ian's lips twisted. Or he could be the one who died trying.
He stared down at the telephone in his hands. No, it could be even worse than that. He could survive, but only by doing a half-assed job. Half-assed because he'd be too scared to push things, too afraid of stirring up the wrong chemicals in his chest. He could charge back to work like a white knight, and emerge like a mangy mutt.
Ian clenched the telephone tight in his hand. Well, he had one day. One day in which to pretend he had the guts to make the right choice.
Hell, Ian thought darkly. He'd had other plans for today.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Bills, bills, bills. Maggie sat at her office desk and sifted through the stack. The old cycle was starting up again: electricity, telephone, and seed suppliers—everyone wanting money she didn't yet have. It would be at least thirty days before Corporate Edges sent her their check for the plants she'd sold them. Given their normal operating procedure, they would probably take a lot longer than that before finally paying up.
The idea was on the verge of depressing her when the bell rang over the front door. Maggie looked up. Every cell she owned turned from the problem of bills and sprang to new life.
"Uh, hello there," Ian said. He gave her a small smile.
"Hi," Maggie chirped. She couldn't believe herself. She'd actually chirped, she was so happy to see him. Every concern she'd ever harbored about Ian vanished. In an instant she was back in the crazy belief he might be good for her. That he wasn't an arrogant tyrant, after all.
"Um, I came because I...didn't finish the, uh, clipping." Ian gestured toward the open wall leading to the garden.
An utterly limp excuse for his arrival. The work he'd done for her last week was supposed to have repaid any debt he owed Maggie for babysitting him. He had no real reason to show up today.
He clearly knew this. A tightness crept into his smile.
As if she'd turn him away. She was too far in the throes of stupid infatuation to do anything that intelligent. "Oh, sure," Maggie agreed. "It'd be good if you could finish that up."
Ian nodded and his smile faded.
Maggie's smile waned then, too. She saw this wasn't mere embarrassment on his part. Something darker was afoot.
If she'd needed any further proof, he simply ducked his head and strode into the garden, clearly wanting to be alone.
He'd come here, to her nursery...in order to be alone?
Frowning, Maggie slipped to the open wall and looked out. She watched Ian stride stiffly through the garden toward the tool shed.
What could be wrong?
Of course, the more relevant question was what was wrong with her. She'd let him in, hadn't questioned his presence; she was happy to see him.
All the same, Maggie watched closely as Ian opened the shed with grim determination. Something was definitely going on with him.
Her breath stopped. Oh, dear. Could it involve his
health?
She started through the opening toward him, ready to demand some answers—before remembering Ian's health was really none of her business.
On the other hand, she debated with herself, she'd invested two weeks of her time and energy in the interest of Ian's health. She had a stake here.
Before she could decide the matter, her regular customer Irene came through the door. Maggie had to turn to greet and help her.
The morning became busy after that, with a steady stream of customers. But Maggie made sure to keep an eye on Ian. He seemed determined to get a lot accomplished. Once he'd finished trimming the camellia, he hoed the vegetables, and then she saw him banging away on her computer keyboard. Every time she looked, he seemed deeply concentrated, even intense.
A man with something on his mind?
Maggie's stomach chilled every time she posed herself the question. No longer debating the matter with herself, she knew she had to talk to him, find out. But she didn't get the opportunity until close to lunchtime.
After smiling her last customer out the door, she turned to find Ian. She nearly smacked right into him. "Oh!" she exclaimed.
"Sorry," Ian said. "Is that the last of them?"
Had he been waiting to talk to her? Maggie's heart picked up speed. "Uh, yes. I guess that's it for now."
"Good." His lips thinned. "There's something I wanted to discuss with you."
The chill that had been creeping around Maggie's insides turned to ice. "Uh, okay," she said softly.
Ian gestured toward the garden area. "You're missing a lot of inventory."
"What?" Maggie blinked several times. "I mean, I am?" She shook her head. "Oh, right. I know what you mean. But it's not missing. I sold it. Corporate Edges came on Friday, after you'd already left to meet your kids. They picked up their order for that condo project."
Ian's brows lowered. "They took delivery."
"Yeah." Maggie could not understand why they were discussing her inventory. What about Ian's problem, whatever it was? "It all went off without a hitch."
His dark brows jumped. "I don't know if I'd say that."
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