by Ryanne Corey
Maxie dipped her head, drawing circles in the dirt with the toe of her sneaker. “Don’t worry about me. I’ve given hundreds of interviews. I figure I can handle one more.”
Connor took a deep, let’s-try-this-again breath. “How about friendship, then? Or does Maxie Calhoon have all the friends she needs?”
Maxie pondered this, head still bent. Then, her voice not much louder than a whisper, said, “Are you sure that’s who you want to get to know? Maxie Calhoon?”
“Maxie Calhoon, milker of cows, tender of rabbits and lover of SpaghettiOs. That’s the woman I’d like to get to know.”
She pulled off her gloves, slapping them against her thigh to shake off the dirt. Still she avoided his eyes. “You’re likely to be disappointed. She’s nothing out of the ordinary.”
“She’s anything but ordinary,” he replied. He dropped his jacket in the dust and took hold of her shoulders. He could feel the tension jump in her body, as if an electric current was silently shivering through her muscles. His thumbs began to massage her shoulders in small circles. “I just realized something. We always talk about Maxie as if she was a third person. It’s almost as if you don’t know her very well yourself yet.”
“You’re probably right,” Maxie said, unable to control the tremor in her voice. She wondered if Connor had any idea what his touch did to her. “Up until a couple of years ago, she was a complete stranger to me.”
Connor didn’t miss the nerve chills in her voice, and he was encouraged. It meant, he hoped, that on some level, she was responding to him. He only had two days, three at the most, before they were inundated with his people. It was amazing what a small army an hour long special commanded. And there was so much he wanted, needed, to learn about her before then.
He bent his head close to hers, his breath stirring the tendrils of hair over her ears. “I have a picnic in the car,” he whispered, as if confiding a great secret. “Not just your ordinary picnic, either…it’s a chocolate picnic.”
“I’ve never had one of those before,” Maxie gasped. She was becoming weak all over from the achingly pleasurable sensation of his breath stirring in her ear. Tattered heartbeats skipped in her chest, leaving her sparse of oxygen. She looked over Connor’s shoulder, watching the breeze dance with the long meadow grass in the pasture. Nothing much had changed in her life the past couple of days. The farm was the same, the cows still required milking, the autumn leaves still blazed gold and red on the aspen trees. Nothing had changed…and everything had changed.
“I’m taking you away from your ranch, your garden and your cows,” Connor told her, rubbing his nose ever so lightly against the baby-soft skin of her neck. “Too much work makes Jill a dull girl. Besides, you haven’t lived until you’ve had a chocolate picnic.”
She pulled back just far enough to look in his eyes. “Have you?”
He cocked his head curiously. “Lived?”
She smiled faintly. “Had a chocolate picnic.”
“No.” He kissed her forehead lightly, then forced himself to step back from her. Even without makeup, her incredible eyes never lost their spellbinding appeal. Her thick, spiky lashes were midnight black, framing the stabbing violet of her eyes. “I guess that means I’ve never lived before today, either.”
Autumn was Maxie’s favorite time of year. Everything about autumn was more vivid, more breathtaking than any other season. And the fact that the brilliant fall colors lasted such a brief time before the white and gray of winter settled in only made her appreciate autumn more.
Connor drove slowly on his way to nowhere in particlar, windows down and falling leaves occasionally swirling inside the car. He made no attempt to turn on the stereo, which was just fine with Maxie. The sounds of the country seemed particularly rich and soothing, creek water splashing over river rock, tires crunching on dry leaves, a soft background of birdsong and scratching aspen trees. These were sounds alien to city dwellers. When Maxie had first moved back to the country, nature’s sounds were as strange to her as a foreign tongue. Crickets had disturbed her sleep, roosters had begun her mornings far too early, the incessant rat-tat-tatting of woodpeckers grated on her raw nerves. She’d heard it all, every little noise. But over time she’d become accustomed, then actually comforted, by Mother Nature’s lullaby.
“Listen,” she told Connor suddenly. “Listen and tell me what you hear.”
He frowned, perplexed. “There’s not much to hear, is there? There’s a wheat field on the left and a wheat field on the right. As a rule, wheat doesn’t make much noise.”
Maxie shook her head, frustrated. She wanted to share this with him, she wanted him to understand the healing power of this place she called home. “That’s really all you hear?”
“Don’t flunk me yet, let me think. I hear your voice, the car’s engine…and that pebble that just dinged the windshield. So tell me, what am I supposed to be hearing?”
“That’s just it. There’s a whole new world of sounds here, but you’re not accustomed to listening for them. People who live packed on top of one another in a big city have to concentrate on blocking sounds out. Sirens wailing, horns honking, neighbors playing loud music. But here…” she paused, choosing her words carefully, wanting him to understand, “…here there is no such thing as synthetic excitement. No reason to run madly about trying to please strangers. No flash, no dazzle, no glitter. Here everything is real. Here you don’t need to guard against anything. You can relax and become a part of the world. It’s kind of like sinking to your chin in a delicious, warm bubble bath.”
“Now there’s a wonderful visual,” Connor murmured, a soft smile lighting his eyes. “You, wet skin, bubbles, not too many bubbles, though…”
“I’m trying to educate you,” she reminded him, adopting a superior expression despite her faint blush. “Before I moved here, I was always looking around the next corner, wishing for something else. I didn’t know what I was looking for, I just knew I didn’t have it.”
“The human condition,” Connor murmured. “We’re always longing for a half-remembered Eden. At least, that’s what they say.”
“But it doesn’t have to be that way.” Maxie was bright and earnest as she looked at him, her hand touching his knee for emphasis. “Don’t you see? We’re meant to be a part of nature. We sometimes lose sight of the fact that we need a connection to the world, not insulation from it.”
Connor felt a buoyant delight in her sincerity, her childlike enjoyment of this new life. And he was touched this amazing woman wanted to share it with him. “You,” he told her, “would make a wonderful missionary. You can go around saving souls, starting with mine.”
Maxie stared at him, wondering if he knew the aura he projected—detached, amused but cautious. He reminded her a bit of the person she had been two years earlier. Still, she thought, he was looking for something more. She didn’t know why she had come to that conclusion, but somehow she knew. “Tell me something, Connor. Are you happy?”
“Right now?” He glanced sideways, then suddenly pulled the car over to the side of the road, killing the engine. His expression was relaxed, yet Maxie couldn’t help but notice the soft heat in his eyes. He half-turned to face her, his arm stretching along the back of the seat. “I’m spending a beautiful afternoon with someone I find absolutely fascinating. She makes me smile. Yes, at this moment I’m happy.”
Maxie felt his fingers brush the nape of her neck, and the answering tingle deep in her body. Suddenly the small confines of the car seemed to enclose them with unspoken need. “What about tomorrow?” she asked softly.
“If I worry about tomorrow, I might miss some of today.” His index finger traced a slow circle on the nape of her neck. “What about you? Are you happy today, Maxie?”
Maxie bit her lip, her hands smoothing the soft material of her beige jeans. She’d changed before they left, topping the pants with a scoop-necked navy sweater and tying her hair back with a thin navy ribbon. The sweater and jeans were hardly desi
gner clothes, but they fit well, flattering the roundness of her breasts and the curve of her hips. She felt…pretty. Not elegant or sophisticated, not sultry or mysterious. Just pretty.
“Yes,” she said softly, raising her gaze to his. “I’m happy today.”
Connor was silent for a moment, his dark eyes devouring her features one by one. The compulsion to take her into his arms was so powerful it was almost painful. Still, they were in a small car that left very little room for spontaneity. He contented himself with taking her hand in his own and pressing a butterfly kiss into her upturned palm. She shivered. He ached.
“Picnic,” he said with grim determination.
She smiled faintly, nodding her head. “Picnic.”
They left the car, jumping a dry irrigation ditch to reach a hillock of young oak trees. The trees still clung to half their leaves, providing a dappled shade perfect for picnicking. Connor carried a small plastic cooler which Maxie assumed contained their mysterious chocolate picnic. He hadn’t thought to bring a blanket, but he chivalrously spread his new denim jacket on the ground.
“We’ll have to sit close,” he apologized, his shining brown eyes as innocent as a cherub’s. “I hope you’re going to behave yourself.”
She cast a humorous glance heavenward. “I will be the soul of propriety,” she promised, infusing her voice with an overdose of sincerity.
Connor’s only answer to this was a slow smile that curled the edges of his eyes in tiny sunbursts. He tugged on her hair ribbon and told her to sit down. They nestled together, hip against hip. That slight contact was enough to make Connor’s heart rate arrhythmic, but he did a masterful job of presenting a calm front. He opened the cooler and pulled out several napkins, carefully smoothing them open on her lap and his like tiny tablecloths. Then he set out his unique offerings, dividing them neatly and evenly: chocolate kisses, chocolate mints, chocolate covered almonds, chocolate truffles and chocolate covered strawberries.
“Oh, this is wonderful,” Maxie said, clapping her hands as she surveyed the wealth of chocolate on her lap. “No one has ever taken me on a chocolate picnic before. What this meal lacks in nutrition, it more than makes up for with originality. I’m overwhelmed.”
“Thank you.” He looked absurdly pleased, long legs stretched out before him, the toes of his boots tapping together happily. “Somehow I thought you might like this. If they made chocolate SpaghettiOs, I would have brought them, too.”
Maxie shrugged, choosing a huge strawberry with two fingers. “We can’t have everything.”
“Why not?” Connor said softly. “Who made that rule, we can’t have everything?”
“The IRS.”
“Funny girl. Fair warning, Maxie. With the exception of a Super Bowl ring, I have a habit of getting everything I want.”
Something in his tone made Maxie stare at him, the luscious strawberry on hold two inches from her mouth. There was a heavy-lidded sensuality in his gaze, a look that Maxie couldn’t possibly mistake. It seemed to get inside her, to slip beneath her skin and swirl lazily through her body. She felt that look as sure as any touch. “I suppose you do. After all, you got your interview.”
“I’m not talking about the interview.”
“I am,” she said.
Connor noted the breathless quality of her voice with satisfaction. Here he was sharing a cozy picnic with Glitter Baby herself, an astonishing fact he still had trouble getting his mind around. There wasn’t a man in the world who wouldn’t love to be in his position. Truly, he lived a charmed life, Super Bowl ring or no.
He grinned and took the strawberry from her frozen fingers, popping it into his own mouth. “She who hesitates loses her chocolate. Eat, Maxie. I’ll be good.”
For once, Maxie seemed to have lost her appetite. She was unusually quiet as she nibbled on her treats, her gaze straying more than once to the man at her side. Sunshine and shade filtered down through the treetops, gilding his hair and broad shoulders with a dozen shades of autumn gold. Replete with chocolate, he leaned back on his elbows and chewed idly on a long blade of grass. The stretch of his lean body was graceful in a powerfully masculine way. The way he smiled whenever their eyes connected made a startling impact on her senses. Oh, that lazy little smile—faint, intoxicating, purely male. Instant bliss.
“You’re not eating much,” he observed. “Knowing your appetite, I’d say either you were coming down with a terminal illness or you’ve had too much of a good thing.”
Not enough of a good thing. “Something like that,” she murmured, her eyes straying to the muscular shape of his thighs molded beautifully in soft blue denim. He would have made an absolutely gorgeous cowboy, she thought wistfully.
“Leave the left-overs for the chocolate elves,” he suggested, his gaze settling dreamily on her luscious, strawberry stained mouth.
Swallowing hard, Maxie got to her feet and cleared away their picnic with fastidious attention to detail. The napkins and foil wrappers from the chocolate went into the cooler. The remaining chocolate she arranged in a little pile at the base of a tree, an unexpected bounty for the first woodland creature that happened along.
“That ought to make some lucky squirrel very happy,” Connor remarked, his eyes unusually bright as he looked up at her. If she didn’t know better, she would have sworn he was intoxicated.
“It’ll probably kill it,” Maxie babbled, looking around for something else to clean up. His unwavering gaze was doing terrible things to her composure. “I have no idea if their little systems can tolerate—”
“I’m through,” Connor interrupted in a no nonsense voice.
She looked down at him warily. “Through with what?”
“Being good.” His hand snaked out, fingers curling around her ankle. “C’mon,” he urged, tugging gently. “You’re way up there and I’m way down here and that’s just too far away. Stop biting your lip, Maxie, you’re going to make it bleed.”
“This wasn’t on the agenda.”
“Speak of your own agenda.” Smiling, Connor began to walk his fingers upward along the inseam of her jeans. “Eensy-weensy spider went up the water spout….”
Maxie couldn’t help it. She made a sound between a whimper and a groan and jumped away from the tantalizing eensy-weensy spider. When it came to the battle of the sexes, this man was armed with a wealth of ammunition. He was funny. He was earnest. He was terribly easy on the eyes. He raised the temperature in her body just by smiling.
“I don’t know why I let you do this to me,” she muttered, pacing around him in a wide circle. She folded her arms, stuck out her bottom lip and tried to reason with herself. “I’ve gotten rusty, I guess. Things like this didn’t bother me before.”
“Things like this?” His golden-brown eyes were dancing a merry jig. “Eating chocolate? Sitting on the ground? Feeding squirrels?”
Maxie blew out a frustrated breath. “You’re a hoot. Truly, the most entertaining man. I meant things like…you.”
“That’s ridiculous. I’ll have you know I’ve been on my best behavior several times since I met you.”
“Never mind. Just…forget it.”
“I will not forget it. Do all men bother you?”
“Of course not.”
This seemed to please him to no end. “Really? Then it’s just me who bothers you?”
She bristled. “Don’t flatter yourself. It’s not about you, it’s about me. I haven’t been alone with a man for two years, that’s all. I’m a little…out of practice.”
Connor held her eyes for what seemed to be the longest time, the faintest traces of a smile lingering on his mouth. Then he flicked aside his blade of grass and stood up, taking quite a bit of time to tuck the back of his shirt into his jeans. “What you’re saying then, is that your reactions to me have nothing to do with me.”
Maxie brightened. “That’s right. That’s exactly right.”
“The eternal mysteries of feminine logic,” he murmured, shaking his head. He picked up h
is denim jacket from the ground, shook it off and tossed it over a nearby branch. “You know, I’m not an ego-maniac. I certainly don’t expect you to be attracted to me simply because I’m incredibly attracted to you.”
“I wasn’t implying—”
“After all, you’re the celebrity here.” He sauntered towards her, thumbs hooked in the pockets of his jeans. “Have you ever considered how daunting it would be for a man to pursue a relationship with a woman who has fan clubs?”
“Had fan clubs.”
“Whatever. The whole idea is absolutely terrifying.”
He didn’t look terrified, Maxie thought, studying him with narrowed eyes. He looked amused, confident and…much too close. She retreated one step at a time until she was brought up short by a tree trunk at her back. She felt trapped in more ways than one, but maintained a calm front. Barely. “Fortunately, you’re not pursuing a relationship. You’re pursuing an interview, aren’t you?”
The toes of his cowboy boots kissed the toes of her leather slipons. “Nah. The fact I landed the interview is just a bonus.”
“Really.” She cleared her throat. “You’re crowding me.”
“Actually, I think I’m pursuing you.” Connor’s smile teased as he placed his palms on the tree trunk on either side of her shoulders. “In fact, I’m almost sure of it.”
“Well, you’re pursuing me right into this tree.” Maxie’s respiration quickened as he leaned forward far enough to rest his forehead against hers. She put her hands on his chest with the noble intention of pushing him away. Instead, her rebellious fingers splayed open over his shirt, her palms absorbing heat from his body beneath. “I’ll have you know I’m getting thorns in my rear end.”
“The scourge of a country picnic, the dreaded aspen tree thorns.” He chuckled softly, dropping a delicate kiss on the end of her nose. “You’re absolutely adorable when you’re cornered. Maxie, do you know how many celebrities I’ve interviewed in the past few years?”
“No.” The single word came out in a nervous falsetto.