by Cara Colter
He stared at her, stunned. Was that not the exact emotion he had felt when he had shown her the entry form for this very race and she had expressed her disapproval?
He had never had the tables turned on him so thoroughly, and he was not happy about it. In fact, he felt furious.
“You are riding in this race over my dead body,” he said.
He said it even though he knew it was exactly the wrong thing to say. He said it even though he knew if someone had ever worded a request like that to him, he would have done the exact opposite just for spite.
But Maggie wasn’t spiteful, like he was. Or stubborn.
Though from the look on her face, he realized he didn’t know half of what there was to know about Maggie.
He wasn’t willing to risk her at this stage. She could be hurt out there. She could be killed. What had Leo been thinking, taking her on as a pupil?
Luke had seen her ride. She had no aptitude for sports. She had no competitive spirit, no athletic ability.
“I am riding in this race,” she told him, her face set in stubborn lines.
Leo clapped her approvingly on the shoulder. A few of the other guys, listening avidly though it was obviously none of their business, also murmured approvingly. Luke glared until most of them got the hint that they might be standing in the danger zone and disappeared.
“We need a moment alone,” he told Leo.
Leo looked to Maggie for the okay. For a woman who had never been terrific at the man-woman interchanges, it occurred to Luke she had won over every male here without half trying! She thought over his request for a moment alone and finally nodded, but reluctantly.
“Are you sure?” Leo asked her, and then something caught the corner of his eye and his head swivelled away from his star pupil. “Ooh, la, la,” he said. “What have we here?”
Luke couldn’t have cared less, but he glanced the way Leo was looking—and closed his eyes and groaned.
Here came his mother. She was actually wearing blue jeans, rhinestone-studded, with stiletto heels and a silk blouse, diamonds dripping from her ears.
Luke wished he had warned her about the earrings.
“Luke,” she called, giving him a little wave.
“You know the babe?” Leo said, a little too lasciviously for Luke’s liking.
“She’s my mother,” Luke said, part resignation and part warning. And she couldn’t have picked a worse time to turn up, either.
Still, he made introductions. Maggie was acting as if they were not in the middle of a most important discussion. She and his mother were eyeing each other with the frightening enthusiasm of people who knew they were going to know each other for a long, long time.
“My dear,” his mother said to Maggie, “you are everything I had hoped for for Luke. Everything.”
Maggie blushed. He glared at his mother. For God’s sake. She had known Maggie fifteen seconds. How could she say such a thing?
He glanced at Maggie and saw how his mother could say such a thing. And saw why all the guys who hung around the dirt track were so taken with her.
That faint uncertainty that Maggie had always carried with her was gone. She had come into her own in a big way since he had seen her last. She looked more than gorgeous. More than confident. She looked absolutely genuine. And there was nothing more attractive in the world than that—someone who had learned to be themselves, and liked what they had found.
He thought of how good he was at pretending to be other people. Why was that? Was it because he was in some way dissatisfied with who he was?
That was the problem with loving a woman like Maggie. He had succeeded in living his life on the surface, and she made him go deeper. Without half trying she made him come face-to-face with who he was. They were supposed to be arguing about whether or not she was racing, and instead he was getting sidetracked into an entirely unexplored area of his psyche.
“I simply can’t wait to get to know you better, Maggie,” his mother was saying.
It occurred to Luke if he didn’t cut her off at the pass, his mother was going to propose for him. He wondered, stunned if that was what he planned to do. Did he plan to marry Maggie?
Damned right, the voice of his reason told him, most unreasonably.
Well, maybe eventually, after he got Maggie sorted out about the race. “Leo, would you go buy my mother a soda? Maggie and I have business to discuss.”
Leo apparently forgot he was Maggie’s coach and defender, because he offered his elbow to Luke’s mother with old-world courtliness. “Annie?”
Luke had never heard anyone call his mother anything but Annabelle. But his mother giggled girlishly, looped her arm through Leo’s and allowed herself to be led away.
“Good grief,” Luke moaned, watching them go.
“Luke,” Maggie said, “your mother is so adorable. And aren’t she and Leo cute together?”
“Don’t even try and sidetrack me,” he said. His mother was not adorable! And Leo couldn’t be cute if he put on a fuzzy pink bear suit.
“Sidetrack you?” she returned innocently. “Luke, I don’t know what you mean.”
“Okay,” Luke told her in a low voice. “You’ve made your point. I get it.”
“You do?” she asked, all wide-eyed innocence.
“Oh, sure. I get exactly how I’ve made people feel all these years. I understand how I made you feel when I told you I was entering this race over your better judgment. I’m sorry I made you feel that way. I’m sorry you worried needlessly. So, here’s the deal. You win. I won’t race. You won’t race.”
She smiled rather tragically, as if he was an idiot child who wasn’t quite getting it.
“I don’t think that would be a win for either of us,” she said.
“What?” he sputtered, not sure he could have possibly heard her correctly.
“I am racing. You can do whatever you want.”
“Maggie! This has gone far enough.”
“No,” she said, “it hasn’t. All my life, Luke, I’ve played it safe. I’ve never taken chances. I’ve never been bold and daring. I thought I could protect myself from being hurt that way. But you know what? I was wrong. All I did was stop myself from living.”
“Maggie,” he said, leaning very close, his mouth practically at her ear, “I love you. If something ever happened to you, it would feel as though the sun set on my world forever.”
She tilted her head back and looked at him. A light came on in her eyes. Her lips captured his.
He was aware of the guys cheering around them, but only faintly, as he concentrated on the kiss. He was sure his declaration of love had convinced her. Instead, she let go of his lips and smiled at him.
“Love lets go,” she said. “It doesn’t hang on.”
It seemed as though he had waited his whole life to hear a woman capable of saying those words to him.
But now that he had heard them, in this context, he was not so sure that they were what he wanted to hear after all.
Still, he looked at the light shining in her eyes and knew she was right. She had played it safe her whole life. She had made some trade-offs that she had paid too much for. Now she was prepared to take some risks. And he realized he was part of her risk-taking package.
He knew what he had to do, and what he had to say.
He knew love was requiring more of him.
He took a step back from her. “Good luck,” he said hoarsely.
“You, too,” she said. She smiled, lowered the visor over her face and turned on the machine. To the cheers of her dedicated fans, she putted off for her practice run around the novice track.
Distracted, Luke went and got ready for his own race. He felt as if he was reeling, had none of the kind of focus that was required to make a competitive run.
The start of his own race was called. He pulled into his place.
The starting flag swept down and for the first time in his life he was aware of holding back, of having a responsibility larger t
han feeding his own need. For the first time in his life he held something back as he made his way around the track.
And he paid for it. At the end of the race, he came in fourth. But he was aware, as he crossed the finish line, that he did not feel disappointed with his result. Instead, Luke August was aware of a sensation of freedom unlike any he had ever felt.
For once in his life he had not needed the win to make him feel good. What was making him feel good, that place inside him filled to overflowing for the first time in his life, was love.
He joined Billy and Nurse Wagner in the stands just in time to watch Maggie’s race. His mother and Leo came over and joined them.
His mother made a great fuss over Billy and, rather than be embarrassed by it, Billy seemed to take to her like a duck to water.
Luke had a feeling something very special would happen between those two. His mother was looking for a child to love, to make up for one she felt she had not loved enough a long, long time ago. And here was a boy who needed all the love he could get. It was a match made in heaven.
Nurse Wagner was no dummy, either. “Annabelle,” she said, “do you ever do volunteer work?”
“Oh, I used to. Silly things,” his mother said.
They began talking like the oldest of friends. Leo, the newest of friends, looked faintly chagrined by it all.
Luke returned his focus to the racers lining up at the start. Leo, who suddenly seemed to realize his star was out there, glanced at Luke, and together they left the stands to get a place closer to the track.
There were eight novices in the race. Maggie was wearing the number twelve. Luke had to fight back a primal urge to protect her, to run out there and pull her off that bike and drag her off to safety, by her hair if necessary. But he fought down the caveman. And watched.
The flag went down.
It was so loud on the track, Maggie felt disoriented. Her nerves were eating her alive. But she did see the flag go down. She seemed to forget every single thing Leo had drummed into her over the last week. Nothing could have prepared her for the amount of noise and then the blinding cloud of dust as the other competitors leaped off the starting line.
It was not helping that the last thing she had seen was Luke coming closer to the track, his brow knotted with worry, his emotion on his sleeve.
The man was crazy in love with her!
The thought filled her with a wild and surging energy. She gunned her motorcycle, felt the little lift of the front end that meant she had given it a bit too much, and settled into the business at hand. Now she could remember everything Leo had told her.
She felt as if she were entering a place of heightened awareness. She was totally aware of the track, the other racers, her own body and the capabilities of the bike beneath her. There was a glorious sense of being connected to all things, of being totally in the moment. No wonder Luke loved this sport.
Still, despite her great effort she drifted farther and farther behind the other racers. She just did not have the aggressive edge she needed, the pull-out-all-stops attitude.
She finished the race dead last.
She took off her helmet sheepishly, to find Leo and Luke right there, both of them beaming as though she had won the race instead of lost it.
And that was when Maggie understood. Taking a risk wasn’t about winning or losing. It was about living.
She looked at the tenderness and relief in Luke’s eyes. He lifted her off that bike and swung her around as if she was light as a feather.
She knew she was ready, finally, to take the greatest risk of all.
His mother arrived, and Billy and Hillary.
“I’d like to take you all to my club for dinner,” his mother announced. “You, too, Leo.”
Maggie sent Luke a private and frantic look. He interpreted it exactly.
“How about if we meet you there?” he asked. His mother named the time, and he took Maggie’s elbow and they ran toward her Volkswagen.
“We’ll come back later for my truck and bike,” he said.
“Your place is closer,” she said when he took the downtown Portland route.
“You don’t want to meet my new roommate,” he said.
She slugged him playfully on the arm. “Let me guess? Bambi? Tiffany? Star?”
He laughed. “Stinkbomb, Too.” And he told her about his pathetic effort to replace her with a puppy.
They were still laughing when they entered her apartment.
“Have you ever showered with a man, Maggie Mouse?” he asked her softly.
She felt suddenly shy and scared. “No.”
“It’s a breeze compared to what you just did out there. Trust me.”
And she realized she did. She trusted him completely, more than she had ever trusted another living soul.
When they went into her tiny bathroom, for some reason Maggie noticed the NoWait on the counter by the sink. She realized that she had not used it for a full week, her life full to brimming with the new adventure she had chosen.
Even without NoWait, the new Maggie, bold and beautiful, had emerged. And beauty had turned out to be about finding her strength, and giving herself over to risk. It hadn’t had one darn thing to do with being skinnier. She leaned over slightly, and unnoticed by Luke, she pushed the NoWait off the counter and into the bin. She realized she did not want to be one bit different than she was right this instant.
In moments their dirty clothes were in a pile on the bathroom floor, and they were cloaked in the steam of the shower. Maggie was not sure she had ever experienced an intimacy so thrilling as Luke’s strong, sure hands on her body, slipping over her. The dust and grime and sweat from the track washed away, leaving her feeling fresh and new and on fire for him all over again. Being away from him for a week had made her so hungry for him she felt that she could die from it.
She touched his wet skin and marveled how its texture could be so totally different wet than dry. She slid her hands over him, and then he pulled her close and kissed her hard. Even his kisses tasted different in the shower.
The water turned suddenly cold, but it didn’t put out the fire. Not even close. Luke slammed the shower valve closed with his foot, then quickly dealt with the faucets. Then he picked her up and took her to bed.
“Have I told you yet that I love you?” he whispered as he put her slippery body in the bed, climbed in beside her and pulled the sheet over them both.
“As a manipulative tool only,” she reminded him. “Using it to try and get me not to race.”
“Okay. I love you.” He kissed the top of her head. “I love you.” He burrowed under the sheet and kissed the instep of her foot. “I love you.” He kissed her belly button.
“Are you still being manipulative?” she asked breathlessly.
“Oh, yeah,” he answered, his voice a rasp.
She laughed. “I think I know what you want this time.”
“I better just make sure you know what I want.” He kissed her ear. “I love you.” He kissed her inner thigh. “I love you.”
He kissed every nameable part of her body and some unnamed. And then he captured her mouth. “I love you, Miss Maggie. I want you to marry me.”
She felt the breath whoosh out of her body. Somehow, when she had decided to accept a life with more risk, she had accepted a philosophy of living moment for moment, with no attachment to results, no looking to the future for contentment.
And now Luke was holding out a glimpse of a shining future. Of days drenched in the sunlight of his love and his kisses. Of days of laughter and adventure.
Of days when the only adventure would be being together, doing nothing special, laughing over small things. Like green-eyed boys with freckles and messy hair.
She began to cry helplessly.
“Don’t cry, Maggie,” he whispered. “We’re just getting to the good part.” He kissed a few more body parts. Soon she forgot to cry.
But she began again, half an hour later, secure in the circle of his a
rms and his love.
“Hey,” he said, “stop that.” He traced a tear with his fingertip, held it to his lip and tasted it. Was it possible for tears to taste of honey instead of salt?
“I just feel so happy. I just feel so grateful for every single event of my life leading me to this. Even being left at the altar.”
“I’m still going to rearrange his face if I ever meet him.”
“No, you aren’t, Luke. You’re going to thank him for setting me free to find you.”
He was silent for a long moment. And then he said, “Maggie, all my life I’ve looked at things one way. It was cut and dried. You make me look at the world differently. You make me feel different. All my life I’ve enjoyed pretending to be other people. I’d make a game out of it. It was funny. But right underneath the laughter was a dissatisfaction with who I was.
“Do you know that lying here with you is the first time I can remember being absolutely content with who I am? I didn’t even have to win my race today to feel that.”
“Do you think you can be absolutely content going out to dinner, because—” she pointed at the clock “—we’re going to be late.”
“Let’s cancel.”
“It seemed as if it would mean a lot to your mother. And Billy won’t be comfortable if we aren’t there.”
“Miss Maggie, you are determined to make me a better man.”
As he said the words, Luke saw himself in her eyes. He hoped he could always live up to what he saw there. A man who was larger than he was before, a better man, a man capable of forgiveness.
“Wear your red dress,” he growled at Maggie.
“I wouldn’t wear any other.”
By the time Maggie got dressed and they’d stopped at his house for him to change, they were considerably late to his mother’s dinner party.
The club was unchanged from the days he had been forced to come here as a child. The dining room was terribly formal, dark oak paneling with white linen tablecloths. And there was his mother, sitting at the head of the table, holding court with Leo and Hillary and Billy, looking like the queen in her diamond earrings and a pure white dress.
He wished they’d gone for pizza.