Hearts Are Wild

by Laura Wright

  “You didn’t seem to think so.”

  “What?”

  “Rules for the perfect good-night kiss by Maggie Conner? Ring a bell?”

  “Oh, that.” With a sniff, she moved past him, walked over to the screen door and stood in the path of the night breeze. “That was…well, different.”

  It sure was, he mused, watching with a dry throat as a breeze blew her hair away from her face and her sundress tight against her body. That kiss had been too different, and he wanted to shake that fact out of his head. But the truth was a relentless bastard. And the truth was he’d never had a good-night kiss that made his body ache so intensely.

  He put down the slice of pizza. He wasn’t hungry, not for cheese and sauce, anyway. Maggie had his mind walking through an ocean of desire-filled quicksand at the moment.

  “Listen, Nick.” She glanced over her shoulder at him. “I may have gone a little too far with the impromptu lessons in romance. Especially in the good-night-kiss department. You’re right. You obviously have that covered.”

  He chuckled. “Thanks.”

  “I just want to give the women you date the perfect man, that’s all. For my business. I have to make it a success.”

  “I’ll never be the perfect man, Montana Eyes.”

  Her eyebrows knit together. “What did you just call me?”

  If Nick could’ve rewound the tape of the past few seconds and erased it, he would’ve. How the hell had that…that silly pet name come out of his mouth? He hated pet names. He hated people that used pet names. But it was out there now and needed some kind of explanation. “Your eyes are the color of a Montana sky, that’s all.”

  “Oh.” Her tone had changed from serious to surprised. She came away from the door and sat down at the kitchen table, where the large pizza sat unattended, all but three slices fighting to stay warm. “You must see a lot of skies in your line of work.”

  He shrugged. “I’ve seen a bit of everywhere.”

  “Just a bit?”

  “I stick around in one place long enough to get the job done. Then I’m on to the next one.”

  “Sounds lonely.”

  “It’s paradise.” That lie had gotten easier to say in the past twelve years, Nick mused, trying to choke down a bite of cooling pizza.

  “I haven’t been much of anywhere myself, but I don’t really mind. I’m a homebody. I like living in my family’s house in a community were I know the mailman and manager of the grocery store and my neighbor brings me chicken soup and menthol tissues when I’m sick. It’s comforting.”

  “Sounds cautious to me,” Nick said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Someone that stays locked inside a town only gets to know one thing, one way of life and one kind of people. It’s safe.”

  “What’s wrong with safe?” Maggie demanded.

  It’s a lock box, a cage, a cramped space that won’t admit free thoughts, he thought. “It’s boring. No excitement, no new experiences—no heat.”

  She paused, her eyes downcast, her cheeks stained with pink. “I’m not looking for heat.”

  “Well, maybe heat’s looking for you.” When the words haphazardly left his lips it was as though a fire erupted inside him. What was with him tonight? Strange place, strange attraction. He just needed to give it some time to cool. The longer he was here, the more this need for “Matchmaking Maggie” would subside.

  He drained his beer, then stood up and grabbed his plate. “I’m going to take a few slices to my room if you don’t mind. I have plans to go over. Unless you have any more lessons?”

  She shook her head emphatically. “No.” Her gaze flickered. “But can we agree that what happened tonight won’t happen again?”

  He forced a half smile. “No problem.”

  She stood there in the middle of the paisley kitchen, fresh as rain and cool as the night breeze in her pretty sundress. For a moment she just stared at him, her eyes clouded with bewilderment as she played with the locket at the base of her throat. Then suddenly she turned away and went to the open kitchen door, mumbling a quick, “Good night, Nick,” over her shoulder.

  “’Night, Maggie.” He watched her walk away. Work, going over plans—all was momentarily forgotten as he contemplated the long night ahead, and the fact that being around this woman and not touching her or kissing her was possibly going to be the toughest undertaking of his life. But he’d made a promise to keep his distance in that respect. And Nick Kaplan never broke his word.

  Unless, of course, she broke hers first.

  “First you’ll tell me a little bit about yourself,” Maggie instructed, turning down the lights in one of Maggie’s Matches small offices. “Then tell me what you want in a woman.”

  Fresh from work, Nick sat across from her with a soft spotlight on him. He looked as handsome as sin with the customary shadow dusting his jaw, his hair slightly tousled and his long, lean frame showcased in a pair of black jeans and a fitted moss-green shirt. Two of the items from the shopping spree, she was pleased to note. She hadn’t known that he’d worn that to work today, only found out when he’d shown up at her storefront at their scheduled meeting time of five o’clock.

  He’d left early that morning. Maggie knew because she’d heard him showering, then imagined him getting dressed as she tossed aimlessly in her bed like a sneaker in a clothes dryer. She hadn’t slept much the night before, either, and when she had she’d dreamed. About him, about his mouth on hers, about his hands searching her body, finding the restless spots that continued to pulsate even after her eyes snapped open to see that he wasn’t there.

  It was just plain craziness but she couldn’t stop thinking about him or that darn I’m-only-proving-a-point kiss. But she was going to have to, now that they were here, sitting in her office, making a video for all the lovely ladies of Santa Flora—one of whom might be his perfect match. She was not going to let her attraction for him mess up this project. And, in fact, before they’d even sat down to begin the interview, she’d made a point of saying that they both needed to relax and have fun. Nick had agreed, but still continued to act the grumpy malcontent.

  “Is this really necessary, Maggie?” he asked, dragging her from fantasyland back to splash-of-cold-reality land.

  “Yes, of course it is.” She looked into the camera that Nick had rigged so she could sit beneath it and interview him. The camera balanced on top of several phone books, which in turn sat on top of the tallest table she had. “Remember, relax, have fun and be yourself.” She smiled and mumbled, “Wait, strike that.”

  “Hey!” He narrowed his eyes at her, but there was a twinkle behind the daggers. “Did you just insult me?”

  She pointed a finger at him. “You’re quick.”

  “And you’re trouble,” he retorted.

  “Thank you.” Maggie grinned. “I try.” Why was it that relaxing and having fun only made her want to kiss him more?

  “Could you also try to find me a woman who’s into complimenting her man? You’re crushing my ego.”

  She tipped her face up. “Can’t handle me, huh?”

  Nick’s gaze hooded, a slow, very sinful smile curved his mouth. “I could handle you just fine. I promise you.”

  She shivered under his gaze. Too far, Maggie, she scolded herself silently. Keep playfulness to a minimum.

  Watching Nick seemed as dangerous as staring into the sun for too long. She jerked her gaze away and returned to her task of focusing the camera. But she couldn’t keep herself from studying him through the lens. His mouth was hypnotic and the way his stubble bordered it was doubly so. Lord, if he only knew how he affected her. No one had ever made her breathless. Of course, she hadn’t been big on flirting, bantering or attracting charming, sexy renegades before. But the few dates she’d been on and the fewer kisses she experienced led her to believe that her attraction to Nick Kaplan was genuine and highly original territory.

  But it didn’t matter. She needed to remember that her business was th
e most important thing. She was here to find Nick a soul mate, and no matter how much it bothered her, she was going to find him the perfect woman.

  “Ready?” she asked him, steadying her voice and her breath.

  He nodded grudgingly. “Whenever you are.”

  She pressed the record button on the camera, then took her seat below it—applying a mask of professionalism, she began. “Hello, Nick.”

  “Hello, Maggie.”

  “Welcome to Maggie’s Matches.”

  “Thanks.” A charming grin lifted the corners of his mouth. “It’s good to be here.”

  Yeah, right, she thought, but she appreciated him saying it regardless. She glanced at her list of questions, then back up at him. “Let’s begin with an easy one. Tell us a little bit about yourself.”

  “I’m thirty years old and work in the construction field. I grew up in Southern California, went to UCLA for my undergraduate degree in engineering and architecture. Then on to Brown for my Masters. Let’s see,” he said, looking up at the ceiling with those incredible rainforest-green eyes. “What else?” He looked back at Maggie and smiled. “In my opinion, Cape Fear was better the first time around. Heavy-metal music gets me going. I’m healthy and moderately happy. And to me, stars make the best ceiling and motorcycles, the best transportation.”

  Maggie just stared at him. Undergraduate degree. Masters? When she’d first seen him she’d thought—well, never mind what she’d thought. She’d just assumed that he was a drifter, not a highly educated man. What other incorrect assumptions had she made? Oh, she wanted to kick herself, but instead she pushed on. “The perfect date. How would you describe it?”

  “Dinner somewhere quiet.” His gaze found hers. “In the lady’s kitchen perhaps. Then afterward, something different, something casual. Like an arcade or an amusement park. I want to see if she has a fun side.”

  Maggie’s brows drew together. The lady’s kitchen… Very funny.

  Determined to keep her mind on the job, she ignored his oh-so-playful jibe and continued with, “What traits do you look for in a woman?”

  “Personality or appearance?” he asked.

  She shrugged. “Either. Or both.”

  “Well, she’s got to make me laugh. She’s got to make me think. And she’s got to make my blood heat every time I look at her.”

  Maggie’s jaw fairly dropped. She’d never heard anything so wonderful as those three requirements. Her throat was tight, and nothing whatever came to her mind or out of her mouth. Speak, Maggie! For heaven’s sake, speak! She swallowed hard. “And appearance?”

  He crossed his arms over his chest, a wistful expression darkening his eyes. “Every woman is beautiful in her way. A walk, a glance, the way her lips move when she speaks. But I did have this awful crush on Veronica when I was a kid.”

  Maggie raised a brow. “Veronica?”

  “Of the Archie comics,” he said, his gaze shifting from her mouth to her eyes. “That dark hair, those killer blue eyes. Stunning.”

  She cleared her throat and, with an unsteady hand, smoothed down her dark hair. He was doing this to get a rise out of her. Well, she wasn’t going to let him get away with it. She’d said relax and have fun. She hadn’t added “at my expense.”

  “Mr. Conner, tell me about the perfect kiss.”

  His grin deepened. “Well, I thought the one I gave you last night was pretty amazing. What do you think, Montana Eyes?”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “I’ll tell you what I think,” she said, standing up and pushing the stop button on the video camera. If he wasn’t going to take this seriously, she was going to make him take it seriously. “I think we’re going to be here until you get this perfect. What time do you have to be at work tomorrow?”

  The humor behind his eyes faded as he muttered, “Spoilsport.”

  The Friday-evening sun flashed red and orange fire as Nick pulled up in front of the house and parked his bike. He just sat there for a moment, looking up at the window of Maggie’s bedroom.

  She’d successfully avoided him for almost a week now. And maybe that was a good thing, considering how his attraction for her hadn’t subsided the way he’d hoped. Every day she’d leave before he was up and when he’d get home at night, he’d find a note from her telling him dinner was in the fridge. Night after night he’d eaten his dinner in the kitchen where, not so many nights ago, he’d held Maggie in his arms. Her perfume always lingered in the air, slowly driving him over the edge.

  During his long workday, he’d think about seeing her at home, maybe having dinner together. While at night he’d think about her in bed, beneath the sheets, beneath him. Did she sleep naked or did she wear one of those filmy things like the ones he’d seen hanging over the shower rod that first day? The ones he hadn’t seen since.

  At first, he’d wondered if she was mad at him for the kiss or for teasing her while they made his video. Nick didn’t see why. He’d just been having a little fun. And he’d only given her a hard time during the first interview. The second time through, he’d been the serious and charming man she obviously wanted him to be, even omitting the Veronica reference. Though it was one hundred percent true.

  Well, whatever her reasons were for avoiding him, she was succeeding. Just today she’d left a message on his cell phone to let him know that the ladies she’d selected for him had come into Maggie’s Matches today to look at his video.

  As if he gave a damn. He couldn’t care less about those videos. He had a staggering amount of work to do and what seemed liked zillions of contracts to go over. Maggie was such a dreamer—as if he was going to fall in love with someone in just a few weeks.

  Nick put his bike in the garage and headed for the house. The phone was ringing when he walked through the front door. Obviously, Maggie wasn’t home or she would’ve picked up already, so he snatched up the receiver.

  “Hello?”

  “Hello.” It was a woman’s voice, mature and laced with humor. “Nick, is that you?”

  “Yes, it is.” He prayed this wasn’t his first date. Going on voice alone, she had to be around sixty.

  “This is Kitty Conner.”

  His sigh of relief was audible. “How are you, Mrs. Conner?”

  “It’s just Kitty, you know that, and I’m fine.” She snorted. “But I hear that you might not be.”

  “Really?”

  “I hear you’re Maggie’s new project.”

  He chuckled. “That title makes me feel so cheap.”

  “You’re anything but, Nick Kaplan.” She paused a moment before asking, “Is my granddaughter there?”

  “Not at the moment. But I can leave her a message.”

  “Yes, you could,” she said, sounding as though this was not her first choice and she was waiting for him to suggest something better.

  “Is something wrong?” he asked. “I could run over to her office and see if she’s—”

  “Do you have any plans this weekend, Nick?”

  “What?”

  She took a patient breath. “Plans for this weekend? Do you have any?”

  “Ah…not yet, but—”

  “Good. You and Maggie need to come to Las Vegas.”

  He hadn’t even had time to register her invitation when the front door squeaked open and seconds later Maggie walked into the kitchen. Wearing black pants and a sky-blue silk shirt buttoned to the tippity-top, she embodied the word prim, but he knew what went on underneath that facade, and it had his jaw tightening like a steel trap. She tossed her purse on the counter, then turned to look at him, her eyes wide and curious.

  “Nick? Are you still there?” Kitty asked.

  He cleared his throat. “Ah…yes, Mrs. Conner.”

  “Kitty,” she corrected again.

  “Kitty,” he repeated, looking at Maggie.

  “Is that my grandma?” Maggie whispered, walking toward him.

  He nodded just as Kitty blurted out, “You and Maggie need to come to Las Vegas tonight.”


  “What’s going on?” Maggie asked him, her eyes filled with concern. “Let me talk to her.”

  He nodded. “Kitty, Maggie’s here. I’ll let you talk to her.”

  “No, wait!”

  Maggie obviously heard her grandmother’s protest. She dropped the hand that had moments before been reaching for the phone.

  Nick frowned. “Kitty, what’s this about?”

  “She won’t come alone. You have to bring her here, Nick.”

  He looked at Maggie and asked slowly, “Could you tell me why?”

  Kitty let out a soft laugh, then three simple words: “I’m getting married.”

  Five

  Finding The Person Who’s Right For You Can Be A Tough Task. Just Put Yourself In Maggie’s Hands And Avoid The Calluses.

  Or end up in Las Vegas, Maggie mused as she glanced out the window of the taxicab that was on its way to the renowned Petrofina Hotel on Las Vegas Boulevard, better known as The Strip. The Strip beckoned tourists with a crook of its artificially lit finger. It was a sight to behold.

  Under the black sky and yellow moon stood beautifully gaudy hotels with neon signs advertising two-for-one dinners, outstanding shows of all types and promises of million-dollar jackpots. It was a Disneyland for adults and Maggie was totally impressed by every glinting light.

  She rolled down the cab’s window and let the warm night air flow over her skin while she took in the sounds of excited street chatter, honking taxis and the dim but ever-present sound of slot machines dinging and clanging. Maybe someone had just snagged that million-dollar jackpot, she thought with a smile.

  No matter how hard she tried to suppress it, Maggie couldn’t control the excitement that flowed through her veins. She’d never seen anything like this. As she’d told Nick, she’d rarely been out of Santa Flora, so she hadn’t seen much of anything. But tonight she’d left her quiet seaside town and landed here where the lights and the good-natured wickedness in the air had her blood pumping double time. And to think that just hours earlier she’d pooh-poohed the whole notion of coming here.

  Three hours earlier to be exact, she’d listened with stunned disbelief as Nick had explained her grandma’s request—more of an undeclinable demand, actually—that they hightail it to the airport and grab the next flight to Las Vegas. Had her grandma lost it? she’d wondered. Getting married in Vegas?