Читать книгу A Ring For Christmas - Joan Elliott Pickart, Cathy Gillen Thacker - Страница 16

“My goodness,” Maggie said, taking in Luke’s enormous living room. “This is incredible, just beautiful. I’ve never been in a penthouse apartment before. The view is fabulous. I’d probably lose track of time and just sit for hours gazing out those windows at the city lights. You must look forward to coming home each day after work, Luke.”

Not anymore, Luke thought as he stared at the awed expression on Maggie’s face. Now it was just a whole lot of empty space waiting for Maggie to fill it to overflowing with her sunshine, laughter and…well, by just being Maggie.

“Ready for that ice cream?” he said.

“Sure. Can I see the kitchen?”

Luke laughed. “Follow me. It’s fun to experience this place through fresh eyes.”

Maggie gushed on and on about the fantastic kitchen as Luke scooped out the ice cream. As he picked up the bowls to carry them to the table, he dropped one of the spoons.

“Darn,” he said.

“I’ll get it,” Maggie said, retrieving the spoon from the floor and rinsing it under the faucet.

They settled onto chairs opposite each other at the round oak table and Maggie took several mouthfuls of the dessert before she realized that Luke was staring into space.

“What’s wrong?” she said.

“I was just wondering what child was going to come visit me and I’m coming up blank.”

“I beg your pardon?” Maggie said, obviously confused.

“When you drop a spoon it means a child will visit. A fork brings a woman to your door, and a knife indicates the visitor will be a man.”

“Is that a fact,” Maggie said drily.

“Yep.”

“Mmm,” Maggie said, frowning at him.

“It’s true,” Luke said, leaning toward her. “I dropped a knife last month and—bingo—Robert popped in for no reason other than he was in the neighborhood.”

“Robert is your brother. It makes perfect sense that he’d like to see you. It has nothing to do with the knife you dropped, Luke.”

“Oh, yeah? Well, another time it was a fork, and you’d better believe I shoved all the dirty dishes in the dishwasher before the knock came at the door. And there she was, my mother, bringing me some brownies she’d baked.” He paused. “I wonder what little kid…Are Girl Scouts selling cookies now or something?”

“Halt,” Maggie said, raising one hand. “Has Robert ever come by unannounced before?”

“Well…yes.”

“And is your mother in the habit of bringing you homemade baked goods?”

“Yes, but—”

“I rest my case. Your fumble-fingers with the silverware was just a coincidence, nothing more. Another one of those superstitions you should forget about.”

“Think so?”

“Know so.” Maggie took another spoonful of ice cream. “Mmm. This is delicious. You’d better start on yours before it melts.”

“You’re really punching holes in my superstitions, you know,” Luke said, then started in on his dessert.

“They can control your life if you’re not careful,” Maggie said.

Luke laughed. “Not all of them. There’s one just for women. If she goes out in public and her slip shows, it means her father loves her more than her mother does.”

“No, Luke, it means that either her slip is too long or her dress is too short.”

“What you’re saying makes sense, I guess. Then again…hmm. I’ll have to think about this.” He paused. “Enough about superstitions. I’m going to go put some music on. I’ll be right back.”

A few moments later Maggie stiffened in her chair as the sound of lilting music reached her.

Oh, God, she thought, that was one of the waltzes she and Luke had danced to at Ginger and Robert’s wedding. The beautiful song evoked special memories she intended to keep for all time. Did Luke remember why that particular tune was so meaningful or was it just a coincidence that he had put it on? No, men didn’t get caught up in things like that. Music was music.

Luke came back into the kitchen and stood next to Maggie’s chair.

“Recognize that waltz?” he said quietly. “We danced to it at Robert and Ginger’s wedding. I asked the band leader what it was and went out and bought it so I could play it when you came here.”

“Really?” Maggie said, a warmth suffusing her and creating a flush on her cheeks. “You did that? Of course I remember it, Luke, but to think that you went to all this trouble to…I don’t know what to say.”

He extended one hand toward her. “Say you’ll dance with me.”

From a seemingly faraway dreamy place, Maggie watched her hand float up to grasp Luke’s, then she was on her feet and in his embrace. He held her close, moving with the music as he glided them out of the kitchen and into the living room, which was filled with the melody from speakers mounted high on the wall in each corner of the large room.

Maggie nestled her head on Luke’s shoulder as they danced, drinking in the feel of him, his aroma, the strength of his body. Around the room they went, so gracefully, so perfectly in step.

It was so romantic that tears burned at the back of Maggie’s eyes and desire consumed her, making it impossible to think clearly. She could only feel and savor and wish for the music to never end.

But it did finish, and they stopped in front of the tall windows where the lights of the city spread out in all directions like a fairyland. Another song started, but they didn’t move, just held fast to each other. Then Luke shifted enough so he could tilt Maggie’s chin up with one gentle fingertip, lowered his head and kissed her.

The kiss was so soft and tender, so exactly right to mark the finish of the memory-filled waltz, that two tears spilled onto Maggie’s cheeks. Luke deepened the kiss and she gave herself to him, swept away by the moment and the music and…Luke.

Then he slowly, so slowly, lowered her to the plush carpet. He stretched out next to her, bracing his weight on one forearm as he drew a thumb over her tears.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said, his voice husky. “I’ve actually daydreamed about this, about seeing you here in my home, right here in front of these windows with the world spread out before us as though it belongs only to us. Ah, Maggie, I…” Love you with all that I am, all I will ever be, for eternity. “I…want to make love to you so much, so very much.”

“Yes,” she whispered.

He kissed her, then they parted long enough to shed their clothes and reached for each other once again. An urgency engulfed them, a need so great it was indescribable.

With hands never still, they caressed.

With lips seeking more, they kissed.

With passion soaring to unbelievable heights, they waited until they could bear it no longer.

Then they joined, meshed into one entity that made it impossible to decipher where the body soft and feminine and the one so very masculine ended and began.

The music had stopped, but they could hear their special waltz as they rocked in gentle rhythm to the exquisite song that belonged to them alone. The tension built within them, tightening, spiraling, taking them higher, up and away, until they burst into the heavens with the lights of their world beyond the windows showing them the way.

It was ecstasy. It was nearly shattering in its splendor, an explosion of sensations like none before. They drifted, savoring, murmuring the name of the other, until they returned to rest on the lush carpet that cradled them.

Luke moved off Maggie, then shifted her so her back was to his front and they could gaze out at the lights. He buried his face in her fragrant hair for a long moment, then tucked her head beneath his chin.

Maggie drew a shuddering breath, then smothered a sob that threatened to escape from her throat.

Dear God, she thought, she loved him. She was in love with Luke St. John. There was no denying it, nowhere to hide from the truth of it, nowhere to run. She loved him. He was all, everything and more that she’d fantasized about finding in a man, the one who would steal her heart for all time if things were different. If she was a normal woman, not plagued by the Jenkins Jinx. She loved him, but she couldn’t have him, and it was just so incredibly sad.

But for now? she thought, blinking back unwelcomed tears. He was hers. Until Precious and Clyde’s wedding, Luke was hers. She would cherish every moment she had with him and ignore the ticking of the clock that would signal their goodbye.

“What we just shared was…” Luke said, then stopped speaking for a second. “No, I don’t have the words.”

“I don’t either,” Maggie said softly, “but I know that it was…I’ll never forget this night, Luke.”

“I won’t either.” He paused, then chuckled. “I think our ice cream has melted.”

Maggie smiled. “I think my bones have melted.”

Time lost meaning as they lay together in sated, comfortable silence, then Maggie finally sighed.

“I’m about to fall asleep,” she said. “I’d better get home, Luke.”

“Ah, Maggie, stay. Please,” he said. “We’ll sleep with our heads on the same pillow in my bed and have breakfast together in the morning.”

“I don’t think…”

“Please?”

Why not? Maggie thought. In for a penny, in for a pound, or however that saying went. She was hopelessly, irrevocably in love with this man. The damage was done, the heartbreak guaranteed when all of this ended. Why not share everything she could with Luke while it was possible?

“Yes,” she said. “Yes, I’ll stay.”

“Thank you,” Luke said, then shifted away from her, rolled to his feet and extended one hand to her. “Come on. I promise my bed is softer than this floor.”

Maggie placed her hand in his and allowed him to draw her up into an embrace where his mouth melted over hers in a searing kiss. On legs that weren’t quite steady she walked by his side to the large master bedroom that was decorated in gray and burgundy. Luke turned on a lamp on the nightstand, then flipped back the blankets to reveal burgundy sheets.

“Oh, wait,” he said. “Make note of which side of the bed you get in on because you have to leave on the same side in the morning or you’ll have bad luck.”

“Here we go again,” Maggie said, rolling her eyes. “Another St. John superstition.”

“Well,” he said, shrugging, “at least I have a variety to offer. You’re zoned in on the Jenkins Jinx and that’s it.”

Maggie looked up at him and frowned. “Which has generations of proof that validates it.”

“That may be true, but you’ve managed to punch holes in all the superstitions I’ve presented so far, shown me that there’s room for doubt. The same may hold true for your jinx.”

“No,” Maggie said, taking a step backward. “I’m not going to even entertain the idea that the jinx can be broken. I’ve seen the heartache suffered by those who thought they could do exactly that. No.”

“Okay,” Luke said, raising both hands in a gesture of peace. “Forget I said that. I didn’t mean to upset you on this incredibly perfect night.” He swept one arm in the direction of the bed. “Madam?”

Maggie settled onto the bed with a sigh of pleasure.

“Oh, this is heavenly,” she said.

“I’m going to go turn out the lights in the other rooms and dump the soupy ice cream,” Luke said. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“‘Kay,” she said, then yawned.

Luke chuckled, then strode from the room. When he returned, Maggie was sound asleep. He slipped carefully into the bed next to her, then propped up on one forearm to watch her sleep.

So lovely, he thought. Maggie was here with him, where she belonged. If only there was a golden ring on her finger symbolizing her being his wife, his partner in life.

He was winning little victories each time she made it clear that the newest superstition he’d declared was foolish, should be dismissed as nonsense. Each of those incidents gave him ammunition to demolish the Jenkins Jinx. He was definitely making progress. Wasn’t he? Oh, man, he just had to be.

But Maggie was so…so fierce about the jinx, was determined not to fall prey to the belief that she could be the one to prove it untrue, to break the long cycle of disastrous marriages in the Jenkins family. No, she had said. No.

And little victories meant nothing if he didn’t win the final battle. He couldn’t bear that thought. He’d just keep on as he was, chipping away at that wall of Maggie’s. He was going to conquer the demon that held her so tight.

He was going to marry Maggie Jenkins. She loved him, he believed that with every fiber of his being. And heaven knew that he loved her. That love would grow, become stronger, unbeatable, smash the jinx into dust to be blown into oblivion.

Luke nodded decisively, snapped off the lamp, then settled close to Maggie, his head on the same pillow as hers just as he’d promised.

But it was many hours before he finally slept.

Two weeks later Maggie and Luke stood in the honeymoon suite on the top floor of one of Phoenix’s exclusive hotels.

“Luke, this is awful,” Maggie said with a burst of laughter. “A heart-shaped bed? A color scheme of bright red? Velvet spread, upholstery, even the drapes? A shiny red hot tub? It’s so tacky, it’s beyond belief.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Luke said, grinning, “I guess it depends on how you feel about red. This place could sure turn a guy off Valentine’s Day. Man, they went nuts in here.”

“The manager said it’s very popular,” Maggie said, shaking her head. “That’s a scary thought.”

“Yep,” Luke said, glancing around. “It’s even worse than the one that had forty-two stuffed toy cupids. I counted them, you know, and there were actually forty-two of those chubby little guys ready to shoot arrows. That was a nightmare waiting to happen.”

“Well, cross this one off the list of possibilities.” Maggie looked at her watch. “I’ve got to rush. I’m meeting Janet and Patty at the bridal shop for the first fitting of their bridesmaids’ dresses.”

“Have you…um…looked at wedding dresses yet?” Luke said, sliding a glance at her.

“No, not yet. I’m sure the perfect dress for…for Precious is there because the selection is wonderful. That shop is where Ginger got her gown. They’re terribly expensive, though.”

“No problem,” Luke said. “Don’t even think about the money. The sky is the limit…or whatever. In other words, go for it.”

“Right. Let’s get out of here. All this red is giving me a headache.”

“Are you sure you can’t come to my place tonight?” Luke said as they started toward the door.

“No, I’ve got to go see my mother, Luke. You know, have dinner with her, chat, what have you. She’s feeling neglected and I don’t blame her. I haven’t been to her house in far too long. I’ll just go straight home from there.”

“I’ll miss you,” he said. “I’m getting very spoiled having you next to me in my bed at night and seeing you when I open my eyes in the morning. It’s nice. It’s more than nice.”

Maggie gripped the doorknob, then hesitated and smiled up at Luke.

“Yes,” she said, “I agree. It’s very, very nice.” She laughed. “By the way, you know that superstition you laid on me last night? I want you to know that I purposely put on my left shoe before my right one this morning and I have not had one bit of unluck, if there is such a word.”

Luke braced his hand flat on the door to prevent Maggie from leaving the brilliant-red suite.

“Well, now, aren’t you turning into a risk taker?” he said, smiling.

“Not really, Luke. I mean, after all, these are just superstitions that I’m declaring to be untrue. You should be feeling a step-by-step sense of freedom as each one gets checked off your list. I don’t think I’m taking any risks by doing that.”

“Interesting,” he said, frowning thoughtfully. “So you’re saying that superstitions, old wives’ tales, jinxes are based on a foundation of long-standing foolishness.”

“Well, no, not entirely. I was referring to superstitions only. There are certain jinxes that have proven merit.”

“So you say,” he said thoughtfully. “Or could it be rather a long string of poor judgment? I had this friend in college who was convinced he was jinxed when it came to owning a car. Every used vehicle he purchased turned out to be a lemon. So he quit, gave up, said never again. He rode a bike, took buses and taxis. Man, what a hassle.”

“But smart,” Maggie said decisively.

“I didn’t go with that theory. I convinced him to try one more time, run that risky risk. We went to a used-car lot and he looked at a bunch of vehicles, then settled on the one he would buy if he was going to, which he wasn’t. We took it for a test drive and stopped to see another buddy of mine who was a mechanic.”

“And he said the car was a clunker. Right?” Maggie said.

“No, he declared it to be prime, good for another hundred thousand miles, so my friend bought it.”

Maggie blinked, then frowned. “Really?”

“Really. The last time I saw him he was still driving that thing. He said it gave him cold chills to dwell on the narrow existence he would have had if he hadn’t sucked in a deep breath that day and taken that risk, bought the car.”

“But—”

“Think about it.” Luke dropped a quick kiss on Maggie’s lips. “Come on, let’s go. You’ll be late for the appointment for the dresses.”

“The what?” Maggie said absently. “Oh! The dresses. I’ve got to dash.”

They left the suite and as Maggie hurried down the hallway in front of Luke, he punched one fist in the air.

Yes! he thought. He’d scored some points—big-time. The story he’d made up about the guy and car was genius-level thinking, especially since he had done it on the spur of the moment because the opportunity had been so perfect for it.

Maggie had heard every word he’d said, was digesting it in that mighty little mind of hers as evidenced by the fact that she’d momentarily forgotten about the appointment she was almost late for.

He was folding his tent graciously and without complaint each time she declared one of his superstitions, albeit fictitious ones, as nonsense. All he was asking of her was to give up one jinx. One.

The one that would mean the difference between their having a future together or not. The one that would determine their entire lives. The one he had to defeat in the ongoing battle he was conducting to win the war and a forever with Maggie Jenkins.

“I’m just going to tape this hem in place for now,” the seamstress said to Maggie, “until the actual bridesmaid is here for the final fitting.”

“Oh, I wish it was really me,” Janet said wistfully as the seamstress worked on the hem. “This dress is scrumptious. I love this color of green, Maggie. I want to own this dress.”

“That’s what Patty said before she left,” Maggie said, laughing. She was seated on a velvet-covered chair, sipping a cup of tea. “She said this whole business is pure torture because she’s had the dress on but it really belongs to someone else.”

“She’s right,” Janet said.

“All set for today,” the seamstress said, getting to her feet. “Let me help you take this dress off.”

“No, I want to keep it,” Janet said, then laughed. “Would it do me any good to throw a tantrum?”

“I’m afraid not,” the woman said, smiling.

The dress was removed and the seamstress left the room. Janet began to pull on her own clothes.

“Janet,” Maggie said quietly, “may I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“When you married Roger, did you believe that you would be the one to break the Jenkins Jinx, end it for all time?”

“Truthfully?” Janet said, sitting down next to Maggie. “I loved Roger so much, Maggie, that I blatantly ignored things about him that were red-alert signals indicating problems down the line.”

Maggie set her teacup on the delicate table next to her and sat up straighter in her chair.

“Really?” she said. “I didn’t know that.”

“No one did,” Janet said, sighing. “I thought I could change him, dum-dum that I was. He gambled far too much, hadn’t held a job longer than a year in his entire life, thought money should be spent and enjoyed now with no thought given to the future.

“Even after the babies started coming he didn’t get his act together. It was like having another child to raise. When I got divorced, no one asked me why, really. The family just assumed it was the Jenkins Jinx doing its thing.”

“And Bill?” Maggie said, her heart racing. “What about your marriage to Bill?”

“Oh, sweetie, that was a joke. I was lonely, broke, scared to death of being a single mother, living paycheck to paycheck, and I latched onto Bill. Six months later I was sick to death of him cheating on me. Ta-da. Divorce number two for Janet the dunce.”

“Why…why didn’t you ever say that the Jenkins Jinx didn’t have anything to do with your divorces?” Maggie said.

“It was easier that way, Maggie. Why tell everyone that I had such lousy judgment, had made such awful mistakes and was paying the price? The whole family felt so sorry for me because I was another victim of the jinx, so I let it stand, kept my mouth shut.”

“Don’t you believe there really is a Jenkins Jinx?” Maggie said, hardly breathing.

“I honestly don’t know,” Janet said, frowning. “Is it real? Does this family just have poor judgment in its choice of partners? Or did some of those marriages in our family tree collapse due to the jinx? I don’t know the answer to that.” She cocked her head slightly and studied Maggie. “Why are you asking me all this? It has been ages since you and I have talked about the jinx.”

“I, um. Well, because…Yes, because of Roses and Wishes. I deal with happy brides all the time and…Mom thinks I made a mistake starting a business that only emphasizes what I’ll never have because of the jinx. She really believes the jinx is true, you know. Having Roses and Wishes has made me think about it more than I normally would that’s all.”

Janet narrowed her eyes. “You never could lie worth a damn, Maggie Jenkins. Something is going on with you. Talk to me, little sister.”

Maggie got to her feet. “There’s nothing to tell you, Janet.” She looked at her watch. “My, my, look at the time. I’ve got to go. I have so much to do. Details, details, details—the list is endless for a wedding.”

“Your dream wedding,” Janet said, rising. “That’s what you’re tending to.”

“Well, it just worked out that way because of this unusual situation with Precious and Clyde,” Maggie said. “I explained all that to you. So, yes, this is the wedding I would have if I was going to have a wedding, which I’m not because of the jinx…which you’re now suggesting might not be real and…” She slapped one hand onto her forehead. “I’m getting a roaring headache, thank you very much.”

“Maggie, there is no way to prove that the jinx is real, no matter what Mom says.”

“But we’ve believed it ever since we were young girls, Janet. We can’t pretend it isn’t there. We lost count of the divorces in our family tree. There is not one happy Jenkins marriage in our history.”

“And there could be an explanation for every one of those divorces just as there is for my two. As for Mom and Dad? The jinx? Come on, Maggie, it was a classic case of the guy who falls for his sexy secretary and thinks he can recapture his youth by dumping his wife and three kids and going off with a bimbo. That’s not a jinx, that’s a hormone rush or whatever.”

“But—”

“I don’t know,” Janet said, throwing up her hands. “Someday maybe a Jenkins will stay happily married for fifty years and this jinx thing will be old news. Love is powerful when it’s right and real. Will that Jenkins be one of my kids? Or will that someone be…you?”

“Me?” Maggie said, her voice a strange-sounding squeak. “Don’t be silly. I’m not brave enough to test out the theory that the jinx might not be real. I’m not going to run the risk of having my heart broken to pieces. Nope. Not me.”

“Oh?” Janet said, raising her eyebrows. “What happens if you fall head over heels in love?”

I already have, Maggie thought dismally. And I’m not going to do one thing about it beyond accepting the fact that my time with Luke St. John is measured on the calendar.

“Let’s change the subject,” she said. “Want to hear something funny? There’s a superstition that when you see an ambulance you’ll have bad luck unless you pinch your nose until you see a black or brown dog.”

Janet laughed. “That’s the silliest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“I know. Try this one. If you have a goldfish in a pond at your home it’s good luck, but a goldfish kept inside the house is bad luck.”

“Where are you getting this stuff?” Janet said, shaking her head.

“And if the bottom of your feet itch,” Maggie rushed on, “you’re going to make a trip.”

“I’m going to make a trip home right now,” Janet said, smiling, “before you lay any more cuckoo stuff on me. Superstitions are nonsense.”

“Are jinxes?” Maggie said, suddenly serious. “Is the Jenkins Jinx as nonsensical as the superstitions I just rattled off?”

Janet sighed. “I don’t know. I really don’t know. Someone in this family is going to have to fall in love, listen to their heart for the truth, the honest-to-goodness truth of that love and—Good grief, look at the time. I’ve got to pick up the kids.” She gave Maggie a quick hug. “Thanks for letting me play Cinderella in that gorgeous dress. ‘Bye.”

“‘Bye,” Maggie said, then sank back down on the pretty chair and stared into space.

Her mind was a mess, she decided. For as long as she could remember she’d believed that the Jenkins Jinx was real. But now? After discussing it with her sister? It was all so confusing, so muddled.

Yes, she was in love with Luke. But, no, she couldn’t, just couldn’t, run the risk of ignoring the jinx only to discover that it was a genuine curse that hung over her family. But Janet had said that her two failed marriages had nothing to do with a jinx. But then again…

“Excuse me,” the seamstress said, coming back into the room.

“Yes?” Maggie said, relieved to be pulled from her jumbled thoughts.

“Time is passing and that wedding you’re coordinating will be here before you know it,” the woman said. “Are you going to look at our selection of exquisite wedding dresses today?”

“No, not today,” Maggie said, an achy sensation gripping her throat as she got to her feet. “I’m suddenly exhausted, so very tired.”

“I understand,” the seamstress said. “But you will pick the bride’s dress soon, won’t you?”

“Yes,” Maggie said softly. “I’ll do it…soon, I promise. I’ll have my Cinderella moment, then take the dress off and…and just be me again.”

Just Maggie, she thought. Counting down the days until she said goodbye to Luke and was simply Maggie Jenkins. Alone and lonely.