“Thanks.” Joe felt a wave of exhaustion just crash over him and he blinked hard. “That’d be great.”
**
Maggie felt fuzzy, floaty. Nothing seemed to have any edges, and she wasn’t even sure her feet were touching the ground sometimes. Voices seemed very far away, colors looked cloudy. She felt like she was wrapped in a deep, dense fog. All she saw, felt, thought, heard, was gray.
All except for Joe. He was bright, defined, vivid. His voice soothed her, grounded her; his touch relaxed her, centered her. By being there with her when her mother had died, he seemed to be in her bubble somehow, connected to her in some way that she couldn’t understand and didn’t even want to try to comprehend. It was too much effort to try.
Just keep breathing, Maggie. Just breathe until three forty-three tomorrow morning. Then you can let it in, and you can drown in it all, OK? You can cry and scream and miss her. But for now… hold it together. You’ve got shit to do.
“Maggie?” Reena said again. “Maggie?”
Maggie raised her eyes. “Yeah?”
“Sweetie, you’re scaring us. Maybe you want to lie down? Get some rest?”
Maggie shook her head.
“You hungry?” Mia asked.
“No.”
“So what do you need us to do?” Katie said.
“Just – just sit here. Just sit here and say nothing.”
They exchanged glances, but they sat down. They didn’t talk, and the room filled up with the silence.
Maggie looked at her watch. She’d synchronized it to the time of her mother’s death, and she felt like for the whole rest of her time on this earth, everything would be ‘before’ and ‘after’ losing Rita.
OK, it’s eleven-fourteen a.m. now. I just have to hang on for another sixteen-and-a-half hours. I can do that. I can fucking do that.
**
At eight o’clock that night, Mitch and Reena were standing in the hallway having a heated discussion. The others tried not to listen, but Reena for one wasn’t making much of an effort to stay quiet.
“I am not leaving, Mitch.”
“Baby. Charlotte just said that the jury has reached a decision and you have to be in court tomorrow at nine a.m. You need some rest, OK? Please.”
“No…”
“Reena!”
They all jumped as Maggie raised her voice. There was silence in the hallway, then Reena and Mitch appeared in the doorway.
“Go home, Reena,” Maggie said. “You’ve been through hell with this trial, and you need some sleep before the decision tomorrow. I’m – I’m sorry I won’t be there for it. I’m sorry I won’t be there for you.”
“No,” Reena said. “Don’t do that. You’ve been there with me through it all, with everything else you’ve had going on. You stay here and take care of your Mom, OK?”
Maggie nodded. “And I want all of you to go. Except Joe.”
Katie and Mia erupted in protest, but Maggie held up her hands and they fell silent.
“Guys, please. Please. It’s – it’ll be too much, having all of you here when the doctors come and do the final examinations. When I have to sign the final paperwork. I just – I won’t be able to cope, I know it. Joe was here when it all happened, and I want him to be here when I hand her over.” She gazed at them, pleading. “Can you understand this?”
Katie bit her lip. “I – yes. Yes, I get it, sweetie.”
“Me too.” Mia’s golden eyes were bright with tears. “We’ll go, Maggie, if that’s what you want. But if you need us to come back, you’ll call, right?”
“Yeah.”
They all hugged her, and the men nodded at Joe. They’d spent most of the day with him, and the guys had decided that he was actually OK after all. Not that they were about to share that with the ladies: they all still looked at him like they wanted to shove him off a very high ledge. Especially Katie.
That’s why it was a total shock when Katie walked over to Joe and wrapped her arms around him. He froze, stunned, then slowly returned the hug. She pulled back, and he stared down in to her brown eyes. He’d never seen them so soft.
“You take care of her.” Her voice was barely above a whisper. “Promise me.”
“I promise.”
She looked at him, beautiful and solemn. “OK, then.”
She pulled away and walked out the door, the others following. And then it was just Maggie and Joe again, staring at each other across the room. He moved a bit closer to her, watching her eyes.
“What do you want to do, Maggie?”
She exhaled. “Go back and sit with Mom.”
“You want me to come?”
She nodded, so he extended his hand to her. She took it without hesitation, and they went back to Rita’s room to wait.
Not long now, girl. Just under eight hours. I can do this. I can.
Chapter Sixteen
At six-thirty in the morning, Joe pulled up in front of Maggie’s apartment building. He turned off the ignition and looked at her.
“Maggie?”
She blinked at him, her face deathly pale in the light cast by the first rays of the summer dawn.
“You’re home, baby. Come on. I’ll walk you up.”
She nodded and opened her door. Her movements were slow, deliberate. Joe thought she looked like she was moving under water, and again, he wondered just how aware she was of what was happening.
When she spoke, she was clear. Even forceful. She’d handled all the paperwork perfectly, almost professionally; she’d asked logical questions, listened carefully to the answers. Maggie seemed at peace with the notion that Rita would live on in others, and she’d shaken the hands of the doctors and nurses on her way out. But on the ride from the hospital to her apartment, she’d withdrawn again, pulled back in to herself until she was almost gone.
Upstairs, Joe unlocked the door for her, flicked on the lights. Memory washed over him: he knew every inch of this tiny walk-up apartment, its smells, its colors. And God, how he’d missed it, all of it.
“Maggie,” he said. “Why don’t you go and take a shower, and I’ll make you something to eat.”
She nodded again and went without a word to her bathroom. The door closed and a few minutes later, he heard the water running. He listened, but didn’t hear anything else.
Why isn’t she crying? I thought for sure she’d break down in there once she was all alone. Fuck, she’s just so… numb.
Joe sighed, then went in to her kitchen. She had almost nothing in the fridge, and he rummaged through the cupboards, on the hunt for some kind of sustenance. In the end, he decided to make her some scrambled eggs with toast and some tea. She didn’t even have enough milk for a coffee – not that he wanted her to have a coffee. She needed to sleep.
He was just whisking the eggs with what milk she did have, when he heard the bathroom door open and he paused, listened as her footsteps walked away from him, to her bedroom. She was moving around in there, and he heard drawers opening and closing. He hoped she was getting in to her pyjamas.
“Joe?”
He jumped. “Yeah?”
“Can you come here for a sec?”
He set down the bowl and hurried to her. “Maggie? You OK?” His voice died in his throat when he saw her.
Jesus Christ. Help me.
Maggie was standing there, completely naked. Still wet from her shower, her hair plastered to her shoulders, stuck to her perfect breasts. Her creamy skin glowed in the first sun beams, her eyes were bright and alive. His gaze was drawn down to her pussy, and he almost groaned out loud when he remembered how it had felt to be buried in there.
He opened his mouth to say something – he had no real idea what – and suddenly, she was on him. Her mouth seeking his, her warm curves pressed up against him. She just wrapped her whole body around his, demand
ing contact. Demanding him.
He held his hands up, not touching her. “Maggie….”
“Don’t talk,” she said. “Kiss me.”
“I can’t…”
She reached up with both hands and cupped his face. She pulled his lips to hers, and he groaned when he felt her incredible heat and need. He twisted his head away, but she followed him, tried to force his mouth back to meet hers.
“Joe, please.”
“Baby, no…”
“Yes,” Maggie said. “Touch me.” She took his hands in hers, placed his hands on her breasts. “I want you to fuck me, Joe. Up against the wall, hard and fast, the way we both loved it. Remember that?”
At her words, Joe’s cock reared up, helplessly. Fuck, she was all silky curves and soft heat under his fingers. She was moving her hips against him, rocking back and forth, undulating, teasing, rubbing. He smelled her arousal now, musky and sweet, and his whole body tensed.
“Maggie, no.” He didn’t want to push her away, but he raised his hands again, up and away from her eager body. “We can’t do this.”
“Why not?” She reached down between their bodies and took him in both hands, her breathing coming faster and harder. “I can tell that you’re turned on.”
“Jesus Christ, baby. There’s a gorgeous naked woman begging me to fuck her up against the wall… of course I’m going to respond.”
She smiled, her eyes hot, her hand moving over the huge bulge in his jeans.
“But I can’t, Maggie. Just because my dick wants to do something doesn’t mean I have to do it. You get me?”
Her hands stilled, and he took this opportunity to gently take her wrists in his hands. He held them tight against his chest, let her feel his heart.
“I want to make love to you, sweetness. I want that more than anything, I swear. But I have worked damn hard over the past two years to be a different man, the kind of man who doesn’t take advantage of others, even if I can.” He held her gaze. “It’s killing me to deny you, but I won’t do this to you.”
“Please.” Her vulnerability almost unmanned him. “Please, Joe. I need this.”
“No. What you need is comfort and touch and warmth, and I get that, OK? You need to feel something, you need to feel alive. But this is exactly the wrong kind of comfort and touch, and I’m exactly the wrong guy to ask to hurt you.” He lifted her hand to his lips, kissed her fingertips. “I’ll stay with you, I promise. I’ll hold you for as long as you need. But I’m not going to have sex with you. Not like this.”
She stared at him, finally really hearing him. He watched as realization came to her, and she closed her eyes as everything hit her all at once.
My mother is dead.
Maggie collapsed; there was no other word for it. One minute, she was standing there, pale and trembling; the next, her whole body sagged and her legs gave out under her and she fell forward. Joe caught her easily, gathered her in his arms. She was shaking with sobs, tears streaming down her cheeks, and his heart ached at her pain.
Carefully, he walked over to her bed, sat on the edge, Maggie resting across him. She was clutching the back of his t-shirt, her face buried in his chest. He wrapped the top blanket around her naked body, pulled her as close as he could, let her cry. He held her like he’d never let go, and if it were up to him, he never would.
Minutes passed and her crying didn’t stop, didn’t diminish in intensity. Joe started to rock her like a child, to murmur nonsense in her ear. Anything at all to show her she wasn’t all alone. To show her that he loved her.
Maggie could barely breathe: her chest hurt from crying, her whole body hurt from the sudden release of tension. She was freezing cold, but Joe was radiating heat. She curled up on his lap, trying to get as close to that warmth and strength as she could. She felt so safe here with him, and she just soaked up his comfort.
Finally, her sobs quieted, and her shaking stopped. Joe didn’t let go of her, though, and she let herself relax on him, just sink down on him. She knew – with every fiber of her being – that he wasn’t going to take advantage of her weakness and stupidity. Maggie just let herself go, just let herself be wrecked and exhausted. And grieving.
Joe stroked her hair. “Shhhh. Baby, you’re OK. I’ve got you… I’m right here.”
She nodded against his chest, and he slowly lifted her up and off his body. She made a small sound of protest, and he smiled.
“I’m just going to lay you down, so I can take off my shoes and find your nightgown. Then I’ll get in to bed with you. I’ll hold you for as long as you want. You hear me? I’m not leaving.”
“OK.”
Joe rested her on the bed, pulled the covers over her. She blinked, sleepy, and watched him kick off his shoes. He found a long t-shirt and gently pulled it over her head. She was as limp as a rag doll, and he dressed her, tugging her arms through the holes, pulling the material down to cover her amazing curves. He went to the bathroom for a few minutes, and then he came back to her, climbed in to her bed still wearing his jeans and t-shirt.
Without any hesitation, Maggie crawled in to his arms. He held her tightly, her head tucked under his chin, and she felt every muscled inch of his body against hers. She sighed.
“How you doing, sweetness?”
“I’m – tired.”
“I’ve turned off all the phones, so nothing will disturb you. I’ve got you, and I’m not leaving you. OK?” He kissed her forehead, lingering on her soft skin. “Sleep, baby. Just sleep.”
And Maggie did.
**
It was dark when she opened her eyes again, and for several seconds, she was confused. Then she felt a hard body against her own soft one, and she gasped. Panicked, she pushed back and away, then Joe spoke to her.
“It’s me, Maggie. You’re OK.”
Memory returned now, and with it, a rising sense of humiliation.
Oh, God. I threw myself at Joe, and he turned me down. Argh. Can I have a nice big hole open up in the floor here, so I can toss myself in to it, never to be seen again? Can that possibly be arranged? Thank you…
Joe ran his fingers through her tumbled hair. “How are you?”
She decided to just tackle the whole thing head-on. “Totally embarrassed.”
“No.” He raised her chin, and she saw his eyes gleaming in the darkness, glowing in the lights from the streetlamps outside. “Don’t be, sweetness.”
“I flung myself at you, Joe. Completely naked.”
He grinned. “Yeah, I remember.”
She blushed at the heat and darkness in his voice. God, she remembered that voice, the one that he had used when he was plunging deep inside her, whispering dirty words in her ear. She almost squirmed as her pussy tightened, slicked up.
“I feel like an idiot.”
“Don’t,” he said again. “What you did was totally natural… and I must say it was great to see you again. You’re as fucking gorgeous as I remember. Probably more so.”
“Oh, Joe. I’m not.”
“Not what? Not gorgeous?”
“Yeah. Not gorgeous.”
He lifted her face to his again, met her eyes. “You are. Every. Single. Inch of you.”
Her breath caught at the desire oozing in every syllable. “Will you kiss me?”
He actually thought about it. “Yes. Yes, I’ll kiss you. One kiss. But no more than that. OK?”
“OK,” Maggie whispered.
Joe lowered his lips to hers now, and she moaned at that first touch. She’d forgotten what he tasted like: musky and hot, heady and dangerous. Like whiskey mixed with sunshine. His mouth moved lightly over hers, delicate and gentle. Wanting nothing more than to be close to him, she opened her mouth, inviting his tongue. But he pulled back, left her wanting more.
“Joe.” Her voice was rough, torn. “Joe, please.”
&nbs
p; “No, baby.” He took a deep breath, trying to stay in control. He held her face in both of his hands, not breaking eye contact. “Just one kiss. That was the agreement.”
“More. I want more.”
“I am not going to let you throw yourself in to sex, to avoid dealing with your grief.” His fingers tightened. “I tried that, and it doesn’t work. It’ll all hurt more when it does finally hit you, and I don’t want that to happen to you. Trust me, OK?”
Despite herself, she glanced down; his erection was pressing in to her thigh, hard and huge.
“As I’m sure you can tell, I’d love to make love to you,” Joe said with a grin. “I really, really would. Being this close to you is driving me crazy, I swear. But it’s not the right time. I don’t want us to do this, and then tomorrow, when you start to really feel your loss, you’re going to feel used and screwed over and you’ll tell me to go.” He touched her lips. “I don’t want that. Not this time.”
“This time?” she asked.
“Yeah.” He smiled. “I’m not screwing you over ever again, Maggie. And listen, just because I’m putting on the brakes doesn’t mean I’m saying no.”
Her heart jumped. “You’re not?”
“No. I’m just saying not now.”
Surprised, Maggie stared at him. He was obviously aroused, and he clearly wanted more too. But he was actually resisting his urges… he was putting her first.
My God. He’s showing me he cares about me – by not fucking me? Well, fuck me.
Flustered, she glanced over at the clock on the bedside table and gasped at the time. “Did I sleep the entire day?”
“Yep.” He stroked her hair. “You were exhausted.”
“And you? Did you get any rest?”
“I did.”
Maggie suddenly remembered, and sat straight up. “Oh, my God. Reena…” She scrambled to get her feet out from under the covers. “How could I have forgotten? The decision this morning…”
“Hey, relax.” Joe touched her hand, then turned on the small bedside lamp. “I called Reena just before noon today, to check in.”
Fighting History (Fighting For Love Book 4) Page 12