Mossy Creek: A Maggie Mercer Mystery

by Jill Behe

  I rolled my eyes, putting the last drop of dough on the cookie sheet. “My daddy’s got a double-barrel shotgun in his closet.”

  He snorted. “Your daddy couldn’t hit the broad side of a barn with a Howitzer.”

  I wrinkled my nose, picked up the full tray of cookies, and went to the oven as the timer went off. “That’s not nice.”

  “No, but it’s true.”

  I huffed. It was true. “He might not have such a great aim, but he’d give it a good try. Spoil sport.” I took out one tray, popped the other in, and set the timer.

  “I’m serious, Maggie. I’ve been itchin’ to tell you how I feel. I didn’t think … I wasn’t sure it was mutual. Then you started flirting back, and I figured I’d give it a shot. I never imagined how … explosive, it would be.”

  “Me, either. I thought you and Vicki were dating, so I tried to hide how I felt.”

  “You what? We’ve never dated, maybe went out once. Whatever gave you that idea?”

  I shrugged. Was it all in my imagination? “Different comments she’d make whenever I was in the bakery. But that doesn’t matter now. Besides, I decided, when all this mess with Randy happened, that life was too short to waste any opportunities. Something needed to happen, good or bad, and it was up to me. So, I guess I did the same thing you did, gave it a shot. Maybe that’s why this feels so big right now, because we both went for it at the same time.”

  “Maybe. Probably. I’m really glad we found out now.”

  “Me, too. Especially about Vicki. Less competition.”

  He shook his head, laughing. “There you go again. I still don’t see where you get that I have fans.”

  “Man,” I laughed, slapping my thighs. “For a cop, you sure don’t notice much. Every time you walk out the door, people watch you.”

  “You’re nuts.”

  “Wyatt, I think it’s really sexy that you don’t pay any attention to all that adoration. You’re a very special man. Everyone in town knows it, and appreciates it. I could give you specific instances, particular people, but ya gotta know they’re proud to be in your town.”

  He held up his hand, laughing. “Maggie, stop. You’re killing me here. I’m not that special.”

  I walked over to him and placed my hands on his flat six-pack abs, running them slowly up his torso. I felt his muscles tense. “Wyatt,” I said, softly. “You’re humble. You don’t show off. You respect everyone, until they give you a reason not to. Nobody wants to disappoint Chief of Police Madison. You’re a true white-hat wearing good guy. AND dare I say it without freaking you out, I think I’m in love with you.”

  Wyatt’s arms came around me, trapping mine between our bodies, and planted a kiss on me so devastating, my legs turned to rubber. A few minutes later, we both had to come up for air. “Maggie,” he groaned. “I really think your view of the world is skewed, but all I care about right now is what you last said."

  “Mmm. I was hoping I said it fast enough that you might miss it.”

  He grasped my arms. “No. Are you? Or, do you only think so?”

  I looked at him. His eyes were bright with hope and fear. I bit my lower lip, and wondered if honesty would end things, or speed them up. “I’ve been falling for a long time. I love you, Wyatt Madison.”

  He squashed the air out of my lungs he held me so tight, and buried his face in my hair. “Ah, Maggie. I’ve waited forever to hear that. I think I fell in love with you the minute I broke out of my fog. I thought at first it was just rebound, you know?” He loosened his hold. “Then, I was afraid to get too close to anyone. I didn’t think I could handle the pain again.

  “Now, with this murder, I realized that not acting could be just as painful. If anything had happened to you, before I got to tell you how I felt, I’d have.… I’d have….” A deep sigh. “I don’t know. I wouldn’t have handled it well. Now that I’ve got you in my arms, I’m not letting go.”

  I snuggled closer. “I feel the same way. I was so jealous of Vicki. I know you said you weren’t interested, but that wasn’t until just the other day. Thanks for telling me, by the way.”

  “Maggie, I wasn’t. I’m not. I never was. She doesn’t appeal to me at all. You do. I prefer brunettes … one in particular. And, I like seeing you with your hair down—it’s gotten so long in the past year and a half.” He kissed me. “But—”

  “But?”

  “Where do we go from here?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Do we date? Do we move in together? I suppose we should have at least one real date before I ask you to marry me.”

  I blinked. Had I heard him right? Was he really proposing? He had teased about it the other night, with the cookies. Had he meant it then, too? Wow. “Marry?” My voice cracked, and I inched backwards, out of his arms. “You want to marry me?” He loosened his hold, but only because I was insisting. “Yes, Maggie. I want to be with you. I want us legally tied to each other. We’re mature enough, and I believe we know each other well enough from working together. Don’t you think? You will, won’t you? You’ll be my wife?”

  “I just got used to the idea of going on a date with you. Now you’re proposing marriage. I need to sit down. I need a drink. Is there any coffee left?” Holy Cow. I wasn’t joking. He’d caught me way far far off guard. This was serious stuff, and he wanted a serious answer, right now. I wanted more than anything to say yes. But was it too soon? My brain needed time to absorb it.

  At the counter, I poured a cup, went to the table and sat.

  “I’m not laughing, Maggie.”

  “Neither am I. I’m speechless, honored, elated, unbelievably turned-on, so happy I don’t know what to do. All those things, all rolled up into one big emotion. So big I don’t know how to express it.”

  “For a minute there, I thought you were going to turn me down.” There was relief in his voice.

  “Fat chance, Bub. It came out of your mouth, it’s set in concrete.”

  “So, why haven’t you answered my question?”

  I held the cup between my suddenly icy fingers. “I will, I promise. I can. I know I can. I want to, so very much. I just, I need to let it sink in.”

  He came over to my chair and dragged me out of it. “Maggie, I’m in agony. Please.”

  I didn’t know how to answer. I’d waited so long for a positive reaction from him, and now that he’d made one, a huge one, I was backing off. Why? Nerves? Of course, I wanted to be his wife. Why couldn’t I say it out loud?

  My thoughts abruptly refocused when I felt his hands under the edge of my shirt, and his lips millimeters from mine. I sucked in a breath at the warmness of skin on skin. “Wyatt,” I breathed against his mouth. He explored my ribcage, and my belly, and then those talented fingers skimmed across my back, up to my bra band.

  He leaned away to look at me, and I saw the question—the please may I—in his eyes. I nodded and kissed him. He made very quick work of those four hooks, and smoothed his way up over my shoulder blades.

  I was in trouble; knew it the minute his hands began the trek back and he slid them forward toward my breasts. I moaned at the first stroke along the undersides. His thumbs moved independently around my heavy mounds, until he had both hands full. My nipples pebbled beneath his palms.

  I couldn’t help it; I groaned and leaned closer. The wave of pure sensation went from there to pool between my legs.

  Oh, oh. I had forgotten how fabulous it was to be touched by a man who knew what he was doing. And boy, did he ever.

  Buzzz.

  He never stopped kissing me, nibbling my lips, dancing with my tongue. Then, his hands were gone. I whimpered at the loss.

  “It’s only temporary, believe me. Ah, Magdalena, you’re so beautiful.” His ragged voice filled my ear, as he dragged my shirt, and the trailing bra, over my head. There was a brief moment of chill, before he pulled me close again. “Maggie, is there somewhere we might be more comfortable?”

  I was so aroused I almost didn’t hear
him.

  Oh, no, that buzzing sound was the oven timer. Shoot. “Wait. I have to take the cookies out.” Self-conscious without my shirt, I glanced around for it.

  He ogled my breasts, a lecherous gleam in his eye. “I’d say they were already out.”

  “Very funny.”

  He deflected my swipe at the tee shirt flung over a chair and, chuckling, waved me toward the stove. “Don’t worry about it, Maggie, I’m enjoying the show. Hurry up, before the real cookies burn. I’d like to get back to what we were doing.”

  I grabbed the oven mitts. “Easy for you to say, you’re not half-naked.” I took out the tray and looked over my shoulder at him.

  He grinned. “I like looking. You have a great body, Maggie. Nothing whatsoever to be ashamed of.

  I know my face was red, felt like it was. “Thanks, but I’m not used to parading around like this. It’s a little embarrassing, but I’m glad you like what you see.”

  “Just so we’re even—” He whipped off his shirt.

  I almost dropped the tray.

  With the cookies on the cooling rack, I turned off the oven and walked toward him, flinging the oven mitts off, suddenly anxious to run my bare hands over all that gorgeous muscle and sun-kissed skin.

  “Come here,” he growled. “I think I like touching more than looking.” He pulled me against him. “I hope the feeling is mutual.”

  My whole body was humming. “Believe me; I’ve got no complaints, so far. My room is straight down the hall to the left.”

  CHAPTER 25

  SUNDAY VERY EARLY MORNING

  I WANDERED into the kitchen to make coffee. It was early, before sunrise. I hadn’t felt so dreamy, so satisfied, so fulfilled, in a long long time. Spending the night with Wyatt couldn’t have been better. Comfy, cozy, content. I went to the window and leaned against the frame. Happy. That’s the feeling. So foreign, I almost didn’t recognize it.

  Okay, so I’d been happy with my life before, but always, in the background, there’d been something missing. Now, all the pieces fit. Bernie and I had been high school sweethearts, and I will love him, the memory of him, ’til the day I die. But this thing with Wyatt? This was different, and better. Maybe because we were older.

  Oh hush.

  More mature.

  I gasped in surprise, then purred when his arms circled my waist and pulled me back against his chest, lips nibbling my neck.

  “Good morning, Magdalena.” His sleepy sexy voice sent shivers down my back.

  My hands closed over his. “Good morning.”

  He turned me in his arms. “What an amazing night. You’re perfect.”

  “We’re perfect together.”

  “Why’d you get up so early?”

  I nestled my head under his bewhiskered jaw. “I woke up. You were asleep … didn’t want to disturb you.”

  “I wouldn’t have minded, but I have to say, I haven’t slept so well in a long while. You’re good for me.”

  “I’m so glad we didn’t keep circling each other.”

  “Me, too.”

  “Coffee’s done. Do you want breakfast?”

  “Not yet. I want you again.” He separated from me, just the smallest bit. His fingers stroked my chin, coaxing my mouth up to his.

  I was ready, giving back as much as I took. Lightheaded and breathless, we stumbled back to my room.

  Two hours later, I was back at the coffeepot, making fresh, with a smile on my face. We had showered together, too. What an experience.

  Yes, he’s a fabulous lover, even more so than in my fantasies. Sorry I had to close the door in your face, but as my mom used to say, ‘What goes on in the bedroom, stays in the bedroom.’ Let’s just leave it at: I’m definitely gonna keep him.

  We needed to get to the office, and Wyatt was anxious to check on Ellie Patterson. Did he think she was going to disintegrate, or disappear?

  Maybe.

  Shirtless, hair still damp, Wyatt stepped into the kitchen just as I was pouring him a cup. My heart did a flip-flop, and I let out a whistle of admiration. “I’m in awe. Really—”

  “Shh.” He stood in front of me. His hands caressed my arms, then circled up my back to tangle and twine in my hair. “I get zapped with a million volts, every time we touch. I almost can’t believe I’m here. That we’re together.”

  “I know. But, it’s so cool that we are,” I murmured, not wanting to move as he gently massaged the back of my head with his fingertips.

  “I wish this case was done and over with so I could spend all day with you.”

  “Well, we will be together today, just not as intimately as we’d like.”

  “True enough.” He let go with a sigh. “I’m sure Ellie’s parents will make sure she’s all right. I just want to touch base with them.” He picked up the mug from the counter, dribbled some milk in it, and sat down at the table.

  He took a drink and looked at me. “So, when are you going to answer my question?”

  I sat next to him. “What question?”

  “I asked you to marry me last night.”

  I blinked, twice. “Oh, that one.”

  “Yeah, that one. I was serious, you know. The magic in your room aside. What happened here last night, between you and me, baby, we’re on a whole nother level. I can’t live without you, Maggie. I don’t want to.”

  “Ask me again. Please?”

  He stood and pulled me to my feet, holding me in a loose embrace, staring into my eyes. “Magdalena Elizabeth Susannah Maria-Louise Mercer, will you do me the honor of taking my name, and being my forever wife, my life-mate?”

  Tears welled; my arms circled his neck as I went up on my toes. “Oh, Wyatt. Do you have any idea what it means to me, that you know my whole entire name? Yes.” I kissed his mouth. “Yes, yes, yes, you sexy man.”

  He let out a harsh breath, all the tension draining from his face. “You said yes.”

  “I most certainly did.”

  “YES! The lady said yes!” His arms tightened and he swung me in a circle before snuggling me close against him.

  I could hear the frantic trip of his heart as we held each other. Mine was racing, too, full and joyous. This was where I belonged.

  “Damn, woman, you had me sweating bullets.” He kissed my neck, my hair, my ear.

  “Couldn’t make it too easy. Now, you know, we’re gonna have to invite your fan club to the wedding.”

  He leaned his forehead against mine, and chuckled. “Will you quit with the fan club already?”

  “Wyatt, you do know, don’t you?”

  His arms tensed as he stared into my eyes. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about, now, but if it has to do with this fictitious club—“

  I stared back, my fingers touching his lips. “I told you before, it’s the whole town,” I whispered. “Everyone. I know you think I mean just the females, but it’s the whole town, Wyatt. That’s your fan club. I’m not jealous; I applaud them. I agree with them. You asked me if I was a fan. Yeah, I am. Your number one fan. And seriously, we have to invite the whole club-the whole town-to our wedding. Well, maybe not all, but as many as will fit in the church.”

  He leaned his head against mine. “Baby, you humble me. Yeah, I thought you were just making jokes about how the women react. I can’t help it if they take it the wrong way when I tip my hat, hold a door, or wave. My mama taught me manners … a dying art these days. Now you say it’s not just women? I didn’t realize…. Everybody, huh? Wow.” He shrugged, in his unassuming way. “I don’t know what to say except; I’m glad they like the job I’m doing.”

  “Sorry, big guy, but they like you for more than that. Anyway, I just wanted you to understand that it wasn’t me being paranoid, or anything.” I moved, just a smidge, and kissed his mouth. “Come on. We better get going. The sooner we wrap things up, the sooner we can be alone together, again.”

  He smiled, eyes twinkling. “What an excellent idea.” He let go and started out of the kitchen.

  I r
aced him down the hall.

  CHAPTER 26

  SUNDAY LATE MORNING

  WE GOT to the office around nine. Ricky wasn’t in yet, which was expected. Wyatt had said around ten.

  “I’m sure Ricky will have info for us, once he gets here. Just come on back, then.”

  “Want me to go for donuts?”

  “Nah. I think we can do without today. Did you get a chance to go through the rest of the diary? We didn’t talk much business last night.”

  “As well we shouldn’t. We were supposed to be on a date.”

  “Technically—“

  “Yes,” I interrupted, not wanting to hear the technicality. “I finished reading the diary.”

  I guess I must’ve changed the inflection in my voice, or something, because one eyebrow went up.

  “Something interesting pop up?”

  I snorted—very unladylike—and shook my head. “Wyatt, don’t use that phrase in conjunction with that book, please. I’ll not be able to keep a straight face.”

  He tried to hide a smile. “That bad, huh?”

  “Worse. Seriously.”

  “Sorry, Maggie. Any clues we should be aware of?”

  “I think so. In fact…. Well, we should wait ’til Ricky gets here.”

  “Fine by me. Would you mind making coffee?”

  “I don’t mind, no.” Even if he’d said he was going to make it, I would’ve taken over. One thing Wyatt DOESN’T do well, is make coffee. Not sure why that is, he’s so good at everything else.

  “Thanks.”

  “Sure.”

  Forty-five minutes later, Ricky arrived. “Mornin’, Maggie.”

  “Mornin’, Officer Anderson. Wyatt said to come on back when you got here.”

  He tossed his hat on his desk.

  Wyatt looked up as we filed in.

  “Mornin’, Rick.”

  “Wyatt.” Ricky nodded and sat down. “I woulda been here sooner, but the store didn’t open ’til 9:30.”

  “We’re not on a formal schedule today. You’re not late.”

  I tried to see into Wyatt’s cup. “You need a refill before we get started?”

  “I’m good, thanks.” He saluted me with it, and took a sip. “Whatcha got, Rick?”