Читать книгу Special Deliveries Collection - Kate Hardy - Страница 57

Brady scrubbed the weariness from his face as he rode the elevator to his apartment. Maggie would be waiting for him. It was such a foreign concept.

He hadn’t had any kind of long-term relationship since he’d left Tawnee Valley. Only himself to worry about.

As he opened the door, he heard the sound of the television on low. He set his keys and BlackBerry on the side table. The curtains were all shut, blocking out the night skyline. By the flicker of the television screen he could see the table set for two and Maggie curled up on his couch.

She must’ve fallen asleep trying to wait for him. He should have told her not to bother. It hadn’t crossed his mind to call. He always worked late. Checking the kitchen, he found the groceries he’d ordered, and in the fridge were two wrapped plates of food.

It stirred something in him that hadn’t been touched in a while. Something he’d forgotten he wanted, but he couldn’t quite name it. Warmth settled in his chest, pushing away the coldness of the New York fall evening. Some guys could work all the time and have a home life. Brady had never considered it. Too many ties, not enough mobility.

He strode over to the couch and squatted in front of Maggie. His future was tied to hers through Amber. Her hands were tucked under her cheek. In sleep, the tension around her was gone.

She was beautiful. Every time they touched, sensation rushed through his body. Could it just be an echo of attraction based on their shared past?

“Maggie,” he whispered, almost afraid to wake her.

Her nose crinkled in response, and she tried to snuggle deeper into the couch.

He glanced at the table. He’d been a fool to think he’d have any time for getting to know about Amber or that Maggie would get a chance to know him. Work had always come first.

Peterson had been adamant the figures were incorrect. They’d argued over the numbers for five hours. Once they’d come to an agreement, Brady had written a detailed email to both Jules and the team that explained the changes. He would need all day tomorrow to catch Jules up on the state of the project and what needed to be done.

Complications, all of them. And yet, even knowing that Maggie waited, he hadn’t been willing to let any of them drop. What kind of father would he be if he did that to his daughter? Was he even suited to being someone’s father?

“Maggie?” he tried again. Still no response.

He went to his room and searched the upper shelf of his closet for the quilt he’d kept. The cotton was worn in spots, but it always felt warm in his hands. The patterned fabric seemed out of place in his apartment in London and even now, it was a misfit for his lifestyle.

When he returned to Maggie’s side, he shook it out and gently laid it over her. Children had never been part of his plan. Maybe a wife who would have her own career to deal with, but never a child who would suffer from his lack of attention.

After getting a beer, he settled into the armchair and flipped the channel on the television. He should be in bed exhausted, but it felt good having someone else here. Maggie being here felt good. Most women would have waited up to ream him a good one for staying out late. Maybe he still had that to look forward to when Maggie woke.

Maggie stretched beneath the quilt and rolled onto her back. Her eyes blinked open and tried to focus on him.

“Hi.” She sat up, rubbing her eyes. “What time is it?”

“Midnight.” Brady held the bottle between his hands as he leaned his elbows on his knees. “I should have called.”

Her sleepy smile made him forget to breathe. “I didn’t expect you to.”

Would she have expected him to if they were more than strangers? But they were more than strangers. He cleared the lump from his throat. “Did you want to eat?”

She nodded and started to rise, but froze when she saw the quilt. “This is gorgeous. Hand quilted. Where was this hiding? I didn’t see it before.”

Her smile dropped, and color rose in her cheeks.

“I mean…” She cut herself off with a groan and sank into the couch. “I shouldn’t have, but Penny…”

“It’s okay, Maggie.” Brady stood and offered her his hand. “It’s not like I have corporate secrets lying around my apartment.”

He helped her up but didn’t let go. Her body’s warmth reached for him like a lover’s embrace.

“What you see is what you get.” Brady wasn’t sure if he was trying to warn her off or make it clear that he didn’t have anything to hide.

She cleared her throat. “I should have asked before snooping around.”

Her gaze lifted to his and it felt like that night again. Energy pulsing between the two of them. Before there had been cattle lulling and the distant howls of coyotes as the backdrop, not the theme from Law & Order. He wanted to pull her in those last few inches and kiss her. To see if the spark between them could be coaxed into a fire. But he didn’t. He’d never been one to shy away from attraction, but Maggie was different.

She blinked and stepped back. Busying herself with folding the quilt, she said, “I made dinner, but wrapped it up so when you got home, it would be ready.”

He didn’t know what to say. How could he think of sex when she was vulnerable in his apartment. With nowhere else to go in the middle of the night. She wasn’t some random woman or coworker. This was Maggie Brown, resident of Tawnee Valley, his brother’s classmate and the mother of his child. The type of girl you settled down with, and his commitment was to his work and his new life in New York.

She draped the quilt over the couch back and went to the kitchen.

His fingers itched to put the quilt away. To hide that piece of Tawnee Valley he’d kept. A memento of better times. He picked up the end, intending to pull it from the couch back.

“Penny was okay with staying an extra day or two. Amber only insisted I bring home something spectacular,” Maggie said from the kitchen.

Brady forgot about the quilt. “Hopefully, I don’t disappoint her.”

“I think she meant a souvenir like a snow globe.” Maggie reappeared with the two plates of food and set them on the table. “I’m not sure what to tell her about you.”

Brady held out a chair for her, and she took the offered seat.

“What have you told her?” The aroma of fried chicken stirred his taste buds. Potatoes and vegetables rounded out the meal. His stomach rumbled. “It’s been forever since I had fried chicken.”

“I hope you like dessert because I made cookies, too. Idle hands and all that.” She shrugged her shoulders as if embarrassed.

“I should have told you I would be late.” Brady bit into a piece of chicken. He couldn’t contain his moan of pleasure. He never would have guessed he missed good country cooking. “Heaven.”

Maggie flushed with pleasure. “Thank you. Amber hasn’t asked about her father too much.”

“But when she does?”

“I don’t know. I tell her that her father lives far away.”

“Which is true.” Damn Sam for his interference. Not that it would have changed much. His work had been in England and hadn’t left room for a family. Even now he had no idea how he could work a child into his life, but he had to try.

Maggie met his gaze with sincerity. “I wasn’t bitter about it. It was what it was. You weren’t in the picture, but I wasn’t going to bad-mouth you to someone who loves you whether she’s met you or not.”

“She loves me?” Brady couldn’t keep the wonder from his voice. His family had always been a unit. Mother, father, two brothers. He’d never had the opportunity to question whether his parents would be there for him or if he wouldn’t love them if they weren’t. “Does she say that?”

“She doesn’t have to.” Maggie folded her hands together and he could see an inner battle being fought.

“Why is that?” He wasn’t sure she’d answer, but it seemed to be what she was struggling with. Maybe searching for the words.

Finally, she raised her head to face him. “Because no matter what, a little girl has faith that her father, wherever he is, wants her and that whatever is keeping him from her must be important.”

The carefully chosen words made Brady want to question Maggie’s relationship with her father. Mrs. Brown had been on her own, but since his mother hadn’t been one for gossip and preferred to keep to the farm, he didn’t know as much about everyone in their small town as some people. This overwhelming urge to protect Maggie rose within him. Had her father hurt her?

He opened his mouth, ready to grill her for the details so that he could right her wrongs, but Maggie hadn’t come to him. She wasn’t offering herself to him.

“I hope I earn that trust.” Brady broke the eye contact and returned to eating.

“I’m sure you’ll do fine.” Maggie took her plate into the kitchen. He could hear the faucet running. “Do you want cookies now or later?”

What could he say or do to make things right? He stood and headed for the kitchen. Unfortunately, Maggie was heading out at the same time. He caught her shoulders as they ran into each other.

“I—” she started, but stopped herself. Her warm, hazel eyes gazed at him. He could almost smell the fresh-cut grass, the fragrant flowers growing wild, surrounding them. Eight years ago, she’d kissed him, offering him a taste, tantalizing him with the promise of nothing more than a night.

He wanted to kiss her and it had a little to do with the nostalgia that she evoked in him and everything to do with the sexy woman she’d become. She didn’t seem aware of her own sexuality. Maybe he was overworked, maybe he had put too little priority on his sex life, because right now, he longed for Maggie to give him an offer like that one night. But what good would that do? No strings attached was what had left Maggie alone for eight years. But right now, he wanted another stolen moment with her.

Her hands came up on his chest. His heartbeat quickened. Could she feel it below her fingertips? Her lips parted and he couldn’t resist the temptation any longer.

He lowered his head slowly, giving her ample time to smack him, run screaming to her room or ask him what in the world he was thinking. Instead, she rose up on her toes and met him halfway.

Her lips were soft under his and her arms clutched around his neck, drawing her body in close to his. Soft curves melted into him as lust hit him hard below the belt. It was all he could do to keep his hands planted on her shoulders.

When she made a little noise of need in the back of her throat, his brain went into meltdown. His hands flowed down her sides until they reached the bottom of her sweater.

Her breath hitched as he touched the skin at her waist. He pulled away from the kiss and met her gaze. His fingers lightly brushed along her sides under the sweater. Giving her every opportunity to stop him and hoping she wouldn’t.

Maggie didn’t look away, could hardly breathe. Her heart pounded in her chest and her insides had turned molten. This shouldn’t be happening. Somewhere, little warning bells were going off in her head, but with his gaze on her, she felt as mesmerized as a deer caught in headlights.

His every touch left trails of nerves quaking in its wake. It had been so long since she’d been with a man. With a child and her mother to take care of, she hadn’t had time. And pregnancy had scared her out of one-night stands.

But she’d always had a soft spot when it came to Brady Ward. He was definitely the exception and not the rule. Her breath caught when he finally cupped her breasts. She pulled his head down so she could recapture his lips with hers.

His hands lowered to her hips and without breaking lip contact, he started maneuvering her toward his bedroom. All the while his fingers played with the waist of her jeans as her fingers threaded through his hair.

Thinking was not allowed. With the flush of heat building within her, it was a wonder she didn’t combust on the spot. He stopped at his bedroom door.

He nipped at her lip as he lifted his head. “This is insane.”

“Completely.” She pressed her body into his.

“We don’t know anything about each other.” He pushed open his door and stepped her across the threshold.

“Didn’t stop us before.” Maggie laughed. It felt good. He felt good. Life was a million miles away. Consequences were things best handled in the morning.

“One would think we had better judgment now,” he muttered against her lips. He lifted her sweater off and tossed it on a chair.

His gaze traveled over her and a moment of anxiety surged through her. She wasn’t a perky eighteen-year-old anymore. Fighting the urge to cover herself, she let him look at her.

“More beautiful than I remember.” He lowered his head and kissed the top of each of her breasts.

Warmth pooled in her chest at his praise and his kisses. “More suave than I remember.”

“I’ve had a little more practice.” His fingers began to work on her jeans.

She tried to unbutton his shirt. Frustration bit into her as the buttons refused to come undone. “I’m sadly out of practice.”

His lips claimed hers and she completely forgot what she was trying to do. Within moments, she felt him shrug out of his shirt and her skin was touching his. Desire flooded her.

“This wasn’t exactly what I meant by getting to know me better.” Brady kissed the side of her throat.

She wanted to purr with contentment, to let him take the lead and show her how hot passion could burn. “This is a good way to judge someone’s character.”

Her hands skimmed over his back. Every muscle twitched under her fingers as they passed. Some sane part of her brain kept intruding. Was she going to have sex with Brady Ward? Why shouldn’t she enjoy herself like Penny always insisted? Why shouldn’t she let herself go for one night before returning to reality? It’s not real. It’s New York.

Tawnee Valley seemed forever away. Brady’s mouth was magical as it pressed against her skin. She wanted to sink into this and forget everything. Escape.

His mouth found hers and she released her thoughts like balloons. Her knees hit the side of his bed. A flash of reasoning rushed through the fog gathered in her brain and the thought balloons crashed all around her.

She put her hands against his chest and pushed a little. He backed off immediately, but his hands held her hips against his.

“Too fast?” The concern in his eyes made her want to yell no, but instead, she nodded. He rested his forehead against hers and drew in a deep breath. “I kind of got carried away.”

“Me, too,” she admitted, even as her fingertips tingled with the touch of his hard chest beneath them.

He lifted his head and tipped her chin. His eyes searched hers. “It’s been a long time since we’ve been here.”

“We don’t know each other at all.” She sighed. His blue eyes had always been devastating to her. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

“I understand.” He pulled her into his arms and hugged her tight. Her cheek rested against his heart. There was nothing sensual about the hug, but she could feel his desire pressed against her. Her insides pulsed, but she ignored the craving.

“I should probably go to my room now,” she said weakly. Tell me to stay, a little part of her whispered.

He released her and stepped away. “I suppose that’s for the best.”

Trying to play it cool, she retrieved her sweater. She pretended not to hear the little rumble from his chest as she pulled it on. It felt good to be desired, even if she should forget about it entirely.

“Tomorrow is Saturday…” She waited for him to acknowledge her, but didn’t dare look his way as she walked toward the doorway.

“Unfortunately, I have to work all day.”

She glanced back and he caught her gaze. For a moment, she wanted to toss her cares to the wind. They’d had sex before. The only difference now was they had a connection in their daughter. Their daughter. She couldn’t afford to start anything with the father of her child, as ridiculous as that sounded.

“We should be free to leave on Sunday.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets, drawing her attention away from his eyes and over his chest, down his flat abs to the unbuttoned fly of his pants.

She raised her eyes before venturing lower. “I should go to bed. It’s been a long day.”

“Maggie?”

She paused and he walked to her, stopping just out of arm’s reach.

“You could stay in here. We could just talk. We don’t have to…”

A sigh worked its way through her. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

His grin had a sheepish quality about it. “You’re probably right. Good night, Maggie, and thank you.”

“For what?”

“For raising our daughter on your own. For flying here to tell me. For staying. For dinner. For being you.”

“Good night, Brady.” She gently closed the bedroom door behind her before she changed her mind.