Spring Into Love

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Spring Into Love Page 116

by Chantel Rhondeau


  Drew was seated at the kitchen table, his back to her. His shoulders, usually straight and strong, slumped with exhaustion.

  “Coffee for you?” Brandon asked.

  “No, I can’t afford to stay up. I need sleep.”

  “Why don’t you sleep here? After all, you’re here every morning before Maggie wakes and leave only after she goes to bed. You don’t have to keep walking back to your parents’ place. We have room here for you.”

  Drew shook his head. “I don’t want to wear out my welcome.”

  “Wear out your welcome?” Brandon shoved a bottle of beer across the table to Drew. “We couldn’t have made it without you. I couldn’t have made it without you. With the will and the probate to handle, I just didn’t have time for Maggie, but you did. Besides, you promised Dad that you’d take care of Maggie.”

  Drew tilted his head back to take a long swig from the bottle. He set it down and stared at it as if it were an alien object. “Did I?”

  “His last words—”

  Drew shook his head. “Your dad heard you introduce me as Maggie’s fiancé, and he roused himself long enough to remind me of my fucking promise to stay away from Maggie.”

  Maggie jolted. Drew rarely—never—swore, and to hear it from his lips, jarred her sense of rightness with the world.

  “What do you mean?” Brandon demanded.

  “Ten years ago, after my accident, Maggie started spending lots of time with me. She was supposed to go to Italy to model after the school year ended. I guess your dad got worried that Maggie would choose not to go if she got any more attached to me. He came to see me, and we had a long talk.”

  “What about?”

  “Maggie. Her dazzling career. Her brilliant prospects. And how I had none, after my accident crushed my knee.” His voice ached with bitterness and irony. “He wanted me to stay away from her, to not get in her way.” Drew shook his head. “It didn’t seem like a big deal to make the promise at that time, but….”

  “But Maggie loves you.”

  “Does she?” Drew took another sip from the bottle. “As a friend, sure. Not more than that. Look at all the other people she dates. Celebrities, actors, singers—”

  “People with way too many Facebook followers. I’m going to sue Tyler’s ass once I sort out Dad’s will.”

  “Good.”

  “But you love Maggie, don’t you?”

  Drew laughed. “You don’t lack confidence.”

  “What does my confidence have to do with you loving Maggie?” Brandon asked.

  “If you love someone, you’re probably convinced that you can love her better than anyone else.”

  “Of course.”

  “But it’s easy to love Maggie. Others can, and likely will, love her as much as I do. It leaves me precisely nothing to offer her.”

  “But Maggie needs you. You can’t leave her now.”

  “No, of course not. I’ll stay for a few days to make sure she’s back on her feet. And I’ll manage her money; I don’t trust anyone else to do it as well as I can.” Drew shook his head and expelled a sigh. “I wish she’d get married. I tell myself, time and time again, to walk away. Each time, she finds a way to pull me back. But if she’s married, I think I’ll finally be able to align what I feel with what I think, and move on.”

  “You’re crazy.”

  “I’m realistic. Don’t you want your sister to marry well?”

  “My sister can make her own money and support her own ass. I want my sister to marry happy.”

  “I do too.”

  “What if ‘happy’ is with you?”

  Drew dragged his fingers through his hair. “How can it be? Your father regained consciousness not to tell you and Maggie that he loved you, but to tell me to stay the hell away from Maggie. It would be funny if it weren’t sick.”

  “All he said was ‘promise.’”

  “All we heard was promise, and I made only one promise to him—not to get in the way of Maggie’s career and prospects.”

  “That’s not true,” Brandon said.

  “What?”

  “You made another promise to him, five years ago. I was there. I heard it.”

  “When?”

  “Before Maggie moved back to the U.S. for college. He asked you to keep an eye on her and take care of her.”

  “Yeah, so?” Drew asked, his tone flat.

  “I know you took a major financial hit when you moved to New York to be close to her.”

  “So?”

  “You’re good at keeping promises, Drew. I’d think harder though about which promises are worth keeping.”

  Drew pushed to his feet, and then leaned down to grip his left knee. He had obviously moved too fast. “I’m tired. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “I’ll give you a ride back.”

  “I’m fine. I want to walk. Clear my head.”

  “Suit yourself. Just one last question, Drew. Do you love my sister? Yes or no?”

  Maggie held her breath. She counted each excruciating moment, watching for the faintest movement of Drew’s head, straining to hear his softest whisper.

  He shook his head. “I have to go.”

  Maggie shrank back into the shadows as Drew let himself out through the kitchen door. Brandon remained at the kitchen table. He took another sip of his beer. “How much of that did you hear, Maggie?” he asked without turning to look at her.

  She stepped out from behind the door. “Just about all of it.”

  Brandon shook his head. “And all this time, I thought he was slower than a tortoise. I kept waiting for the e-mail or phone call from you saying you were engaged to him. Never got it. I wondered why. Now I see I should have asked earlier.”

  “Did Daddy really ask Drew to stay away?”

  “Sounds like something Dad would have done. To be precise, if we combine both promises Drew made to Dad, Drew promised to stay close without getting in the way of your career and prospects. How the hell he was supposed to accomplish that, I don’t know.”

  “But he did.” Maggie’s laugh was almost a sob. “It drove me crazy. I thought something was wrong with me.”

  “Lots of stuff is wrong with you,” Brandon said with a smile. “But not where Drew is concerned. You’re not going to let him walk away, are you?”

  “Drew? Hell, no. I’ll never find another guy who will buy roast pork buns for me.”

  Brandon looked at her as if she had lost her mind. He shrugged. “Whatever floats your boat. Move fast though. I think he’s running out of strength to keep going.”

  “What do you mean? Don’t you think he loves me?”

  “You couldn’t see it, of course, but the look in his eyes.” Brandon shook his head. “Drew’s trying to find a way to step back physically, but emotionally, I think he’s already said goodbye.”

  ~*~

  The sun was a sliver on the horizon, and the air had the crisp bite of morning dew when Drew returned to Maggie and Brandon’s house early the next morning. Stifling a yawn, he let himself in with the kitchen door key. The house was dark; Brandon and Maggie were likely both still asleep. He got the coffee going, and then settled down at the kitchen table to squeeze in some work before Maggie woke up.

  He was deep into his fourth analyst report of the day when Maggie walked into the kitchen. “Good morning, Drew.”

  He glanced up.

  She slammed through his awareness harder than black coffee spiked with five shots of espresso. The red silk dress, the same one she had worn to their monthly meeting two months earlier, hugged her curves, and her golden hair draped like silk over her shoulders. The scent—uniquely hers—perfumed the air.

  He exhaled unsteadily, grateful that the table concealed the bulge in his pants. He cleared the hoarseness in his voice with a cough, and then said, “Hey.” It would be too obvious, he realized, to point out that her dress wasn’t exactly suitable for mourning. “What are you up to?”

  She poured a cup of coffee and brought
it to him. “It’s probably time to start paying attention to my affairs again.” She emphasized the word ‘affairs’ as she walked around his chair to stand behind him. She ran her fingers along his shoulders and absentmindedly began massaging them. “Do you want to run down to Sunshine Bagels for breakfast? I’ve got a craving for a coconut toasted donut.”

  “Really?” He twisted his head to look at her.

  “Don’t move,” she chided. “I’m working here.” Her deft fingers kneaded his tight muscles. “I’m two pounds under my ideal weight. I can afford to indulge a bit. Are you going to indulge in something sinful with me?” Her tone was coy.

  Drew frowned. “Are we talking about coconut toasted donuts?”

  Maggie snorted. “You’re so suspicious. When have I been anything except less than perfectly honest with you?”

  “Sorry.” Drew dragged his fingers through his hair. It was a nervous reaction, and he knew he was doing it with increasing frequency. He shifted, dragging his chair closer to the table. “Sure, if you want to go out for breakfast—Ow!”

  “You’ve got a major knot here.” Maggie shifted both her hands to focus on that tender spot in his back, nestled in his shoulder blade. “What did you do?”

  “It’s always tight there. The body compensates in weird ways when one part doesn’t work the way it should.”

  “Your left knee?”

  He nodded. He didn’t want to talk about it.

  Unfortunately, Maggie didn’t feel the same way. “It’s been ten years. Does it still hurt?”

  “Only if I push too hard.”

  “You’ve been pushing hard, haven’t you?” Maggie asked, her voice lowered. “All those long walks the past few days. I didn’t think…I’m sorry. I’ll get the car keys. We can drive to Sunshine Bagels.”

  “No, a slow walk is fine, if you’re not in a rush.”

  Her touch turned into a caress. He could hear the smile in her voice. “I’ll walk anywhere with you.”

  Drew squeezed his eyes shut. What was wrong with him? Why was he hearing innuendo in every other sentence out of her mouth? He pushed slowly to his feet. “Do you need a jacket?”

  “And conceal this dress? Are you crazy?”

  Now, that sounded like the Maggie he knew—a model who lived for the spotlight. He grabbed his jacket in case she needed one later and followed her from her house. Hand in hand, they walked down quiet streets that would, within a few hundred feet, open up into the busy downtown area of White Plains.

  Maggie glanced down the side street that led to Drew’s parents’ home. “How are your parents doing?”

  “They were at the funeral yesterday.”

  Maggie stopped and looked at him. “Do you ever answer the question I ask or only provide the answer you think I want to hear?”

  He stopped short. “What?” He stared at her as if she were a stranger.

  She shook her head. Her faint frown gave way to a brilliant smile. “Never mind. I’d like to stop in to see your parents.”

  “They were still asleep when I left this morning.”

  “I want to go to your house. I haven’t been there in years.” She looped her arm through his, and then leaned against him to steer him in the direction of his house.

  She was in an odd mood this morning, he reflected. But then again, she had just lost her father. Prepared to humor her, Drew let her into his childhood home and stood back as she wandered through the house, her fingers trailing along picture frames and other decorative items. The hard edge of her smile gentled. “It’s been so long, but I still remember the first time Greg invited me over. You were home that day, do you remember?”

  He did, clearly. He had been a junior at Stanford University and had come home for Thanksgiving. After the massive mid-day meal, the family was lounging around the living room in various stages of post-feasting stupor when the doorbell rang. Greg, three years younger than Drew, and a senior at White Plains Senior High School, leapt to his feet. “It’s Maggie. She said she would come over to say hi after her family was done with dinner. Be cool, okay, you guys?” Greg’s flush and nervous grin betrayed him.

  Drew chuckled. “Right.” Greg considered himself something of a hot shot—he was White Plain’s star athlete and top student—but he was behaving like an overanxious freshman over his latest girlfriend. Must be some girl, Drew thought.

  Maggie walked in, and for a moment, Drew forgot to breathe.

  She was all of thirteen years old, but her natural poise made her seem older. Although she was not conventionally pretty, her large blue eyes and subtly feline features were striking. Then she smiled.

  Drew swallowed hard. Shit.

  Somewhere, there had to be an unwritten code that declared it was flat out wrong to be attracted to his younger brother’s girlfriend, especially when she was only thirteen.

  Maggie’s laughter drew him back to the present. “You were so distant and unfriendly that day, do you remember?”

  Self-preservation. “No, not really. It was a long time ago.”

  She turned to him with a smile that was even more stunning than the one that had tumbled him headlong into infatuation ten years earlier. “We’ve come such a long way since then.” She continued down the hallway to his bedroom and pushed open the door. “Wow, quite a change.”

  After he graduated from college, his parents had converted his bedroom into a guestroom. His posters, books, and CD collection were shipped out to him in San Francisco. Most of his personal belongings he had subsequently sold before moving into his tiny New York apartment. His former bedroom was now an attractive and impersonal guestroom that he personalized with his half-empty duffle bag and his dirty clothes tossed in a corner of the room instead of into a laundry basket.

  Maggie glanced at the queen-sized bed. “Much more comfortable than the twin you had in here before.” Her gaze drifted to the window on the other side of the bed. She stiffened and a puzzled look flashed across her face. It vanished moments later, though, and her smile returned.

  She was smiling way too much, and for some unfathomable reason, it made him nervous. She reached around him and shut the bedroom door, locking the both of them in.

  “Maggie?”

  “I remember going home crushed because you didn’t notice me.”

  “What?”

  “Ten years ago. You bruised my ego, Drew. Aren’t you going to kiss me and make it better now?”

  “Stop it.”

  “I know you want me. In the kitchen, this morning, you wanted me.”

  Drew fought to bring his racing heartbeat and heaving breath under control. “No, I—”

  “Why are you overcomplicating this? Isn’t that the woman’s job?” Maggie reached around the back of her neck and loosened the knot that held her dress up. Silk slithered off her body

  His throat, among other things, tightened. “This isn’t funny.”

  “Oh, trust me. I know it isn’t funny. I’ve spent the past five years in a muddled haze trying to interpret your mixed signals.”

  “My mixed signals?” He kept his eyes focused on her face, because there was no other safe place to look. The tiny scraps of red lace that passed for her bra and thong showcased a slim yet curvaceous body.

  “Oh yes.” She stepped forward on her matching red heels, her prowl reminding him of her arrogant strut down the catwalk. “You won’t touch me unless I initiate contact, and even then, you keep me at arm’s length. You refuse to acknowledge how good I look in all the dresses I’ve bought to impress you—other than to point out that they blew my budget. I might have thought you were uninterested, except that you manage my money without taking your fair cut, and you travel half the length of Manhattan to bring me roast pork buns each time we meet.”

  “How did you—?”

  “How did I know that the pork buns came from the Jade Palace?” Maggie smiled. “You were deliberately obtuse when I asked you where they came from. You do that when you’re trying to lie without lying.” She looke
d up at him. Her smile faded, but the intent look in her eyes was even more compelling. “Why didn’t you want me to know that you were willing to go great distances to keep me safe, to make me happy?”

  She was so close he could feel the heat radiating from her body. Her fragrance filled his lungs, until she was the only thing he could see, smell, hear, and touch.

  She leaned in, her lace-covered breasts brushing against his cotton T-shirt. “Why didn’t you want me to know that you love me?”

  ~*~

  Maggie held her breath. She had always known the risk of pushing Drew to the edge. The man who had had the willpower to resist her for ten years would have no trouble stepping back from the edge.

  Drew released his breath in a shuddering sound. It grated against the jagged edge of his self-control. “Oh, God. Maggie.” He wrapped his arms around her and crushed her to him.

  The rush of her desire overwhelmed her quiet relief as her lips parted for his kiss. He was all she could see, smell, hear, taste, and touch, and she wanted all of him. Her tongue tangled with his; she took as much as she gave. His grip anchored her when her senses spun.

  His hands slid down to press against her lower back. She arched forward, her legs spread, to straddle his denim-clad thigh. The coarse material rubbed against her though the thin lace of her thong. A coil of pleasure speared upward. Moisture dampened her lingerie.

  “Hurry,” she chanted into the kiss.

  He broke the kiss and chuckled. His low voice shot a thrill of anticipation along her spine. His breath tickled her throat. “I don’t think so. I’ve waited too long for you to rush you through this.” He ran his hand through her hair; the golden strands spilled like silk through his fingers. He wound his hand around her locks and pressed a kiss to them with a reverence that pricked Maggie’s eyes with tears. The bulge of his erection pushing against his jeans told her how much he lusted for her. The tenderness with which he seduced her told her how much he loved her.

  He breathed kisses down the side of her neck and along her collarbone before dipping into the valley between her breasts. Maggie leaned back against Drew’s hands until he alone held her up. He made it easy for her to close her eyes and surrender to the demands of his mouth and the strength of his embrace. Only he could envelop her in security and make her tremble with sexual need at the same time.

 

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