Kathy looked surprised. "I was?"
"Yes. You're thinking I always taught you to take responsibility for your own actions, not to blame your decisions on the whims or emotions of some man."
"Well, I'm not sure...but maybe I was kind of thinking that," Kathy admitted.
Maggie turned away from Kathy, then turned back again. "I can't do it."
"What?"
"I can't apologize. What I said—it was just too much. The way I put things— He wouldn't believe me—" Maggie stopped as Kathy continued to look at her.
"All right, all right." Maggie patted the air with her hands. "I'm being a coward...again. But—but—"
"But—what?"
Maggie gazed at the girl. But—it was scary to put her hopes for happiness in the hands of another human being. To ask for reciprocation.
Especially knowing how she herself had responded to just such a request.
Maggie gave a weak little laugh. "But it's a lot harder than I'd thought to be a strong, take-charge woman."
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
"Are you sure about this?" Ian asked Andy on Sunday afternoon. He parked the Jeep in the driveway of Andy's friend Brandon's house. They'd driven there straight from the airport.
In the passenger seat, Andy gathered his bags. "I'm sure. I missed two days of school and I'm behind anyway. We're going to turn it into a marathon study session."
"Well...all right." With the motor still running, Ian fought his desire to keep Andy with him for the rest of time. That was neither practical nor desirable. Andy had to have his own life, his own friends. He didn't exist to assuage Ian's loneliness.
But Ian couldn't resist one last try. "And there's nothing you need at home, first?"
"Nah. My overnight stuff is already packed in my bags." Andy unzipped his backpack, felt inside for something, then zipped it back up again. "It would just be a waste of time to drive all the way home, then back again. This is more efficient."
"Right," Ian agreed. "More efficient." The night before, Kathy had called back and spoken to both of them. After getting off the phone with his sister, Andy had suddenly decided he'd better connect with one of his friends as soon as he got home. He wanted to catch up on all his school work. Imagine Kathy, of all people, giving him such an idea.
Now Andy looked over at his father and grinned. "This was a great trip."
Ian's gaze shot to meet his son's. "Yes. It was a great trip." Indeed, his throat threatened to clog up if he let himself think about everything that had happened and the breakthrough he'd made with Andy.
"Maybe Vito will even decide on a new architect by Monday, just like he promised," Andy said.
Ian laughed. "I'm beginning to believe miracles are possible." Once Andy had clued Ian in to Vito's true problem, Ian had come up with the idea of having Vito bring his portfolio to the meetings. Instead of receiving a presentation from the interviewee, Vito had described his vision of the new music center. A conversation had ensued over how the Kansas City construction architect was positioned to help in attaining that vision.
It had been like pressing a button. Suddenly, Vito had become an enthusiastic, cooperative participant in the process.
Andy gave his father a mysterious grin. "Hey, if miracles can happen, maybe you can even work something out with Aunt Maggie."
Ian's smile froze. He didn't believe in miracles that far. "I...thought you weren't a fan of my relationship with Maggie."
"I wasn't." Andy shrugged. "But it's possible I could change my mind."
Ian repressed a snort. It didn't matter much now, but it was nice to know Andy could be persuaded to root for him. "I'll remember that," he said, not too dryly.
Still grinning, Andy got out of the car. "See you tomorrow, then."
"Yeah. Tomorrow." Ian watched as Andy got out of the car. "Hey," he called out. "I love you."
Andy turned back. His smile was shy. "Yeah, same goes." Then he grabbed his suitcase and his backpack and trudged up to his friend's doorway.
Ian only hoped he didn't embarrass Andy too much by waiting to drive away until he saw Andy disappear into Brandon's house.
He still wasn't exactly sure how he'd managed to bridge the gap between himself and his son. Something about having been honest and vulnerable. Of course, he'd been the same with Maggie, but that had ended up with the exact opposite result.
Rejection, instead of connection.
"It's a crap shoot," Ian muttered to himself, then shifted the Jeep into reverse. Once on the street again, he wasn't sure what to do. He had to pull over at the corner to think it through.
It was time to pick up his daughter. But Maggie had her.
Every muscle Ian owned tensed. Maggie. After that first call he'd made to her house on Wednesday evening—which she'd answered by mistake, apparently—she hadn't again answered her own phone. She'd had Kathy answer. Yup, she was determined to have nothing to do with him.
If he'd harbored any kind of absurd fantasy they might reconcile, she'd effectively shot it down.
Ian smoothed his hands up and down the steering wheel. That hurt. It hurt all the more in that...he couldn't really blame her. When he thought of what he'd hurled at her on Tuesday night, the nasty things he'd said— Suffice it to say, he was not proud of himself.
Ian's hands took a firm grip on the wheel. All right. He wasn't proud of himself. Maggie hated him. He couldn't do anything about it. What was done was done. In any case, he was not in the driver's seat.
Ian blinked. In fact, come to think about it, he was hardly ever in the driver's seat about anything: his health, the identity of his birth parents, his wife dying, his son accepting him. Nothing.
Ian's hands gripped the wheel harder. He felt almost dizzy, realizing that. He had no control—of anything. It was all a crapshoot. "Jesus," Ian muttered. "Jesus." He was like some tiny speck, bobbing around in the great big whirlpool of life. Fighting a sense of disorientation, he had to work to draw in his next breath.
No, no. It couldn't be that bad. He had no control of other people, or of natural events. But he could control himself. He could control his own actions, what he said, what he did. While the car was parked with the motor still running, Ian drew in a couple more deep breaths. Slowly, he calmed. That was right. He could control his own actions. Andy wouldn't have responded positively to him if Ian hadn't reached out, if he hadn't made such a response possible.
Okay, okay. Ian stared out the front windshield. So, what? Where did that leave him? He couldn't control Maggie's response to his marriage proposal. He couldn't control if she loved him or not.
But he could control how he handled that. He could control if he left her with angry words—or if he made sure she knew how he actually felt about her.
"Oh, boy." Ian felt like someone had just switched him on. He had a job. An important mission. He had no control over its outcome, but that didn't mean he could leave it undone.
Ian shifted his car into drive. He was going to go pick up Kathy. Now. Drive straight to Maggie's house. She would have to see him. Have to hear him and what he had to say. She might not care. Probably wouldn't. But that didn't matter. He had to do what he had to do. That was all he could do. The rest was up to the whirlpool.
Twenty minutes later, keyed up, switched on, ready, Ian stood outside Maggie's front door and read, with disbelief, the note taped there.
In case you come here first, I'm at Claire's house. Her mom will drive me home when you call.
Love, love, love,
Kathy.
Ian couldn't help smiling at the x's and o's drawn at the bottom of the note, even as he shook his head. Hell, he should have known. Maggie would figure out a way to avoid him.
Or had she? If she wasn't here at home, she was probably at her nursery. It was Sunday, her biggest day of the week.
Ian's rueful smile faded. He switched on again. The nursery. He could find her, make her listen to him. That's all, just listen to him.
Five minutes later,
Ian tracked through Maggie's nursery, craning his neck, looking for Maggie's fiery red curls. He found Pearl.
"No, she isn't coming in today," Pearl told Ian.
Ian swallowed his disappointment and thanked Pearl, who looked confused, but then, Pearl often looked confused. Ian was pretty sure Maggie hired her out of pity.
"Should I tell her you're looking for her?" Pearl called out as Ian turned to go.
Ian turned back, blinking. Should she? It would alert Maggie he was gunning for her, so to speak. It would put her even more on the evasive.
But then, again, all he could control were his own actions, not Maggie's.
"Sure," Ian told Pearl. "Tell her I'm looking for her."
Not that there was any way he could find her now. He'd run out of places to look.
The whirlpool, Ian reminded himself, as he climbed back into his car. He allowed himself a sigh before turning the key in the ignition. Sure, he wanted a chance to apologize to Maggie, but it seemed even that was something he could not control.
Ian's wry smile lasted almost all the way home. He didn't have any control. He had no control. He breathed in and out, in and out.
The thought was almost becoming a comfort.
~~~
She'd thought he would never come. Maggie swallowed hard as Ian's khaki Jeep Grand Cherokee approached from the north. According to the last phone call she'd made, his plane had landed two hours ago. He must have had trouble getting his baggage or something. God, if she'd known she'd have to wait here as her nerves strung tighter and tighter...
She'd have had to do it anyway.
From her position seated on his front step, Maggie watched Ian pull his car into the driveway. The front step was not clearly visible from the street. Judging by the impassive expression she could see on his face through the windshield, she didn't think he'd seen her yet. Her heart started racing.
I am a take-charge woman, she repeated to herself, as she had at least a thousand times over the past hour, waiting. I do not hinge my life on a man's whims. I go for what I want.
Uh huh. Uh huh. What bullshit. She was trembling in her boots. Literally. She had to remind herself that even if she chickened out of going for what she wanted, she still had to apologize. She'd done and said things she regretted, and she wouldn't be able to live with herself if she didn't express her remorse.
On the other hand, she might not survive doing so. Her heart was going even faster now. Unable to move, she watched as Ian got out of the car. He looked good enough to eat, in tan chinos and a knit sweater that caressed his chest.
He slammed the driver side door closed and went around to the back of the car. He hadn't seen her yet. She could still slink off if she wanted.
If she could move.
Ian grunted as he pulled a small suitcase and a carry-on out of the back of the car. He set them on the ground, closed the car, reshouldered the bags, and started for his front door. Toward Maggie.
Her heart was pounding and her lungs were constricted and she could not move. Not until Ian rounded the corner of the car and finally saw her.
He stopped as if he'd run into a wall.
To have such an effect on him made Maggie wince. Finally, though, she was able to move, desiring to soften the effect.
"Uh, hi," she called out, her voice only a little hoarse. She unbent and stretched to her feet. "Um, Kathy's with a friend."
Oh, brilliant. That was just what needed to be said. Ian was staring at her like she was an apparition from hell. Like he couldn't believe such a demon had come to roost on his doorstep.
Okay, Maggie thought, strike any thought of going for what she wanted. Her only goal here now was to apologize. She took a deep breath. "I was hoping...we could talk. If you don't mind. If it's all right. Um, I don't have much to say, but—"
"All right."
Thank God he'd interrupted her. Maggie had been about to babble her way into next year. She swallowed and nodded, then turned to go into the house. The closed front door confronted her.
"Ah." She shut her eyes. "I don't have the key."
"I'll open it."
Maggie drew in a sharp breath. His voice seemed to go right through her, deep and calm and masculine. But his masculinity didn't threaten...it called. It beckoned. It offered.
Maggie bent her head. As he walked up, she felt every nerve she owned screw tight. She sensed the precise split-second before he reached the front step and her side. He was inches away from her, like a powerful, humming engine—everything she wanted, everything she needed. Everything—just everything.
In that instant yearning won out over terror. Maggie turned to look up at him.
He was looking right back down with those amazing mocha eyes.
The difficult words popped out of Maggie, as if they'd been greased to slide from her throat.
"I'm sorry. Oh, Ian. I am so, so sorry."
Unfortunately, she couldn't see his reaction because tears suddenly flooded her vision. A combination of relief, shame, and longing overcame her. She must have leaned toward Ian because suddenly he was holding her.
Oh, God, Maggie thought, horrified, and tried to pull away, but Ian wouldn't let her go.
"Maggie," he whispered. There was the sound of something metallic hitting the concrete. His keys. And then there was the unbelievable sensation of him pulling her close.
Maggie felt completely disoriented. He was holding her like he never wanted to let her go. Holding her like...he still loved her. Then she heard his voice, though she could scarcely believe what he was saying.
"Maggie, Maggie. I am so sorry, too. What I said—? I didn't mean a word of it."
Maggie's eyes widened, and she looked up at him. He was apologizing! "But you were right! Oh, Ian, you were so, so right."
"No. And I don't care if we get married." Ian held her very close. "I don't have to own you or nail you down. That isn't— All I want to do is love you."
Maggie emitted some sound between a sob and a laugh. And then Ian was kissing her. Short—and no matter what he said, possessive—presses of his lips all over her lips, and on her nose, her cheeks, and her jaw. "I love you," he said again. "I love you."
Maggie felt like someone had taken her out of the freezer and put her under the sun. This had been so easy. Once she'd let go, given in...held on. "I was afraid," she admitted, "but I love you, too."
Ian groaned audibly. "I need to pick up my keys."
"What?"
"So we can get inside. You can't say that and imagine I'm not going to want to do something about it."
Maggie's smile widened and she put her arms around his neck. Then she pulled him down for a kiss that would really make him want to do something about it.
By the time she finished, he stood in an apparent daze. She was pretty dazed, too, but still managed to stoop down to retrieve the keys and even got the right one in the lock to open the door.
There was a dangerous gleam in his eyes as she then handed the keys back to him.
"If you intend—? Well, you'd better understand one thing first," she warned.
He closed his hand over the keys. "I understand, Maggie. You're your own woman."
"Of course I am." Yes, she understood that now and didn't have to prove it any more. "But I'm also yours. Just like I want you to be mine."
He went absolutely still.
Maggie took a deep breath. She felt a shiver pass through her, both of fear and exhilaration. "You asked me to marry you. If that offer's still on the table, I accept. And if it isn't, then I'm making my own offer. Ian." She closed her eyes, felt another terrified shiver, then opened them again. "Ian, will you marry me?"
Ian hadn't moved. "I—"
"You don't have to answer now." Maggie put a quick hand on his chest. "A lot has happened. You have to think. I understand."
Ian shook his head. "But I don't understand. You want to get married?"
Keeping her hand on his chest, Maggie looked up at him. "Yeah, I want it."
Maggie pressed her hand harder against his chest. "I want to have a real relationship, with real commitments, real...partnership. Everything." She sucked in her lips. "I also understand about Sophia. I believe you're right. She was happy with you. It just wasn't the kind of relationship I would have wanted." She paused. "Nor the kind I think I would have with you."
Ian kept on staring at her.
"And besides," Maggie went on, but copped out and ended on a mumble.
"What was that?" Ian was finally talking again. "I didn't catch that."
"And besides," Maggie said, strident now. "I might want to have a baby."
"Oh." Ian's expression went from blank incredulity to a huge, if not fatuous, delight.
"You don't have to look so smug."
"Oh, yes. Yes, I do."
"You know, you can be a real pain in the ass," Maggie grumbled.
"I'm sure that's true." Ian took her in his arms again. He pulled her against his hips, so she could have little doubt as to his feelings about her latest admission. "But I'm your pain in the ass. And you want my baby."
"I may rethink that."
"Uh uh. Too late. Cat's out of the bag." Ian was looking more self-satisfied by the minute.
"What about you?" Maggie asked, as Ian rubbed against her in a way he really should not have done until they were inside his house. "You don't have any qualms about having another child, diapers and all the rest?"
"I might," Ian admitted, "if I was able to think at all right now. But I'm afraid..." He leaned down to kiss her. It was an open-mouthed, debilitating kind of kiss. "I'm not exactly thinking right now."
"Let's go into the house," Maggie begged. He was about to give the neighbors quite a show. "We'll talk about it later."
"Yeah," Ian murmured, deep. "Later."
~~~
Later, the shadows lengthened against the walls of Ian's bedroom. He gazed up at the ceiling and heaved a deep, incredulous sigh. Even after the events of the past hour-and-a-half, even with the weight of Maggie's head on his arm and with her curls tickling his jaw, he still had trouble believing all this was true.
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