Читать книгу If You Don't Know By Now - Teresa Southwick, Teresa Southwick - Страница 8

Maggie rubbed her gritty, sleep-deprived eyes then stared for the umpteenth time at her stalled computer monitor. If she could have frozen her mind as solid as that screen, she’d have slept like a baby last night instead of tossing and turning and thinking about Jack Riley. Worrying the tie of her light weight cotton robe, she decided having this technical problem to focus on was a blessing in disguise. The silver lining to her Jack Riley cloud. Technical glitches almost took her mind off the fact that Wild Jack was back. She was nearly frustrated enough to overlook all the possible ramifications of that fact.

“Control, Alt, Delete works for everything,” she said to the screen and put action to the words. When there was no change, she sighed and shook her head. “Why should this be different from the rest of my life? I’m so together even my computer is frozen.”

Then, being Maggie, she went from the general to the specific. Specifically that kiss. Why had he done it?

She’d heard nothing from the man for ten years, then he shows up and kisses her. What’s she supposed to do with that? For one thing, she had to tell him the truth about Faith.

There was a soft tap on the front door and she figured her hearing must be as tired as her eyes. It was the crack of dawn—way too early for anyone to show up at her door. Even her daughter the early bird was still asleep.

Maggie padded barefoot to the front door. Standing on tiptoe, she peeked through the peephole and recognized Jack. Instantly she moved out of sight, as if he could see her, and pressed her back to the door, trying to control her hammering heart. What was he doing here? For several moments she toyed with the idea of not answering. He didn’t know her routine. For all he knew, she and Faith could be gone. Then she remembered the evidence of her presence was parked in the driveway. Real soon she was going to have to clean out her garage so she could get her car in there.

But she could still be asleep for all he knew. Then she sighed. Cowardice wasn’t her stock in trade. Sooner or later she had to face him. Wouldn’t it be best to get it over with?

She removed the chain lock and dead bolt and opened the door. Smiling she said, “Good morning, Jack.”

“Maggie.”

“You’re up early.”

He nodded. “I don’t need much sleep.”

“Wish I could say that.” She looked up at him—way up—and pulled her cotton robe more snugly across her bosom. For a man who got by on little sleep, he looked awfully good. His hair was short and she couldn’t tell if he’d combed it or not. She tried to picture him in uniform, but the thought wouldn’t focus. She’d only ever seen him dressed as he was now—smooth worn jeans and a white T-shirt. The sleeves snugly surrounded his bulging biceps, the soft clingy material molded to the muscles and contours of his impressive chest.

“How did you know I was awake?” she asked.

“Heard your slider open a little while ago.”

The man must have ears like one of those very perceptive wild animals whose survival depended on their keen sense of hearing. She’d have to remember that. “What can I do for you?”

Tell him, the good angel perched on her right shoulder insisted. He has a right to know.

The devil on her left shoulder chimed in, It isn’t your fault he never received your letter. He dropped out of sight.

True, she thought, very much liking that left-shoulder devil. The problem was, he was in her sight now, and he had a right to know.

“Can I borrow some coffee? If you’ve got extra?”

It would be so easy to give him enough grounds for a pot and send him on his way. But for the life of her, Maggie couldn’t do it. Before she thought it to death, or turned into one of those scary characters who answered the voices in her head, she made up her mind.

“I can do better than that. Would you like a cup of already brewed coffee?”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

“Come on in.” After he did, she closed the door and locked it again. “Follow me. The kitchen is this way.”

Feeling self-conscious in her flimsy night clothes, she led the way through her living room to her kitchen at the back of the house. Shorty pajamas barely concealed by a thin cotton robe wasn’t exactly proper attire for receiving gentle man guests. Then again, Jack had seen her in a lot less ten years ago. Did that really count now?

She reached into the cupboard, annoyed because she hadn’t arranged the cups on a lower shelf. She had the worst feeling that she was getting “cheeky” with the man from her past. In spite of it, she refused to give in to the sensation by pulling at the hem of her robe. But her cheeks—the ones on her face—burned.

With her back to him still, she busied herself with pouring steaming black coffee into a large mug. If she was lucky, by the time she was finished she’d have a cooling off period and could turn to look at him with her dignity shored up.

“Here you go,” she said, handing him the cup. “Do you need milk or sugar?”

He shook his head, then blew on the coffee. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

He looked around her kitchen. “This is nice. Homey.”

She followed his gaze. Oak cabinets above and below a beige ceramic-tiled counter filled two walls. At the end closest to the family room there was a matching built-in desk holding her computer. Beyond that, was the open slider to her backyard, letting in air that was the coolest it would be all day. A tiny butcher-block island stood in the center of the room.

“I like it,” she said. “The best part is, I made it happen all by myself.”

Could she have sounded more defensive? she wondered. She looked at Jack to see if he’d noticed. He was watching her, but she couldn’t read his expression. Only once last night had she been able to detect a stirring of emotion in him, when she’d introduced her daughter. Maggie didn’t have any problem deciphering her own reaction to him.

Sooty shadows of stubble sprinkled his cheeks and jaw, clueing her that he hadn’t shaved yet. How intimate was this? Sharing coffee with a man in her kitchen before his morning shave, as if… Don’t go there, Maggie, she ordered herself.

She dated occasionally, but she’d be lying if she said she’d ever seen a more masculine man in her kitchen. Last night at the rodeo, her attraction had kicked in instantly and she’d chalked it up to a dream like quality connected to the night. But it was morning now and the sun was up. With his dusting of whiskers and hair tousled from sleep, Jack Riley was still the best-looking dream she’d ever had. The handsomest man she’d ever seen.

And she was the woman who had a secret he had a right to know.

Maggie stood with her back to the counter and Jack leaned a shoulder against the wall that separated kitchen and family room. As they sipped their coffee, an awkward silence developed between them. In the old days they’d had ways to fill the silence—ways having everything to do with mouths and tongues and frantic hands that couldn’t touch each other enough. Did he remember?

Jack met her gaze for a moment and stuck the fingertips of his free hand into his jeans’ pocket. “Maggie, I—”

“Hmm?”

“I want to explain what happened.”

“What? When?”

“Ten years ago. Why I didn’t come back.”

“You don’t have to—”

“Yeah, I do.”

She nodded, then blew on her coffee. “Okay. What about it?”

“You probably don’t remember the letter I wrote.”

Her breath caught at the instantly recalled pain of the words he’d written. Go on with your life…. Not fair to you…. Can’t ask you to wait.

“Refresh my memory,” she said, then sucked air into her lungs.

“I had certain—skills and qualifications my commanding officer recognized and tapped. I was recommended for Special Forces. A mission.”

“How nice for you.”

He sipped his coffee, covering any reaction to her sarcasm. “They hand-picked the candidates and each was chosen on the basis of qualifications and no personal ties.”

Just the one you turned your back on because you didn’t know. And the one you over looked because you did, she silently amended.

“Go on,” she urged.

“They encouraged us to sever any ties we could because the mission was dangerous. We didn’t know if we’d make it back.”

“But you did.”

“Yeah.”

He stared into his coffee at things only he could see. A muscle in his cheek contracted and somehow she knew his memories were painful ones.

“And you didn’t get in touch,” she added.

He met her gaze then but she couldn’t see past the shadows. “I knew it wouldn’t be the last mission. Personal relationships weren’t encouraged.”

“I see.”

“My career took off.”

“Congratulations.”

“I found something I was good at, Mags.”

“And what is that?” she asked.

One corner of his mouth quirked up. “I could tell you but then I’d have to kill you.”

She knew he was joking, but only partly. In his circumspect way, he was telling her he was one of those men who went where others feared to go. One who kept the gray area safe for Mom, apple pie and the girl he left behind. But there was someone else he’d left behind and he needed to know about her.

Only how could she tell him? He couldn’t even tell her specifics about what he did for a living. He was hiding things. Dangerous things? He was her daughter’s father. And Maggie couldn’t deny she was still attracted to him. But the truth was too sensitive to just drop on him out of the blue. Or at all? What did she really know about him? She knew he wasn’t staying. He might not even want to know.

“It wasn’t fair to ask you to wait,” he finished.

“Thanks for making the decision for me.”

Maggie had intended the words to be light and breezy, but they’d sounded sarcastic and just this side of hateful. She was ten years too late in fussing at him for not getting in touch. But the depth and power of the emotions churning inside her con firmed that she still had un re solved feelings.

“Can I warm your coffee?” she asked.

When he nodded, she grabbed the pot and walked over to him. She had to touch him, wrap her hand around his to hold his cup steady. Meeting his gaze, she saw the dark intensity in his eyes and wondered again what the sensitive mission and all the others since had entailed. Her first obligation was to protect Faith. Before she brought father and daughter together, she needed to know more about him. Besides, he said he’d only be there temporarily. Was it right to reveal this secret knowing Faith would be heart broken when he left her? If anyone knew how that felt, it was Maggie.

She took one step away from him, then another and another until she was across the room and could form words again.

“Can you tell me what skills brought you to your commanding officer’s attention? Or would you have to kill me then, too?”

“I don’t think that’s classified. It was actually two things. Physical—”

“There’s a surprise.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth she wanted them back with a fervor she reserved only for chocolate. “What I meant was, you were in pretty good shape. From rodeoing. As I recall,” she finished lamely.

A slow, sexy grin curved up the corners of his lips. “Endurance was a factor. And intensity.”

She’d been the focus of that intensity once upon a time. It had been pretty seductive. And the primary reason why she’d been relieved when he’d said he wouldn’t be in Destiny for long. She didn’t want to chance having such concentrated scrutiny land on her for any extended length of time. Historically, she didn’t handle it well.

“What other ‘know-how’ brought you attention?”

“I took to computers like a wild mustang takes to the open range.”

“There’s that Texas boy I knew and—”

What? Loved? Not anymore. No way, no how. Nope.

She shook her head. “So you’re good with those ornery little contraptions? Maybe you’re just the man I need.”

One dark eyebrow rose. “Oh?”

She ignored the way her heart hammered, her hands shook and her knees wobbled. “Y-yeah. My computer is a mean-tempered, lazy, stubborn, good-for-nothing pile of chips, hard drive and disks.”

“Froze up on you?”

“That seems like a big leap.”

“Nine times out of ten the level of frustration you just ex pressed usually means the computer froze up. Want me to take a look?”

“More than you could possibly know.”

He walked to the desk and leaned over to study the screen. He turned the machine off and waited several moments before booting it back up again. Not that she even wanted to get close, but before she could move in to peek over his shoulder, he touched some keys, then straightened and looked at her.

“I think it will work for you now. If you talk nice.”

“What did you do?” she asked reverently. Then she held up a hand. “Never mind. If you tell me you’d probably have to kill me and I really don’t want to know that badly.”

He laughed. “It’s easy.”

“Maybe for you. I don’t mind admitting I’m technologically challenged. And I have a great deal of respect for people like you.”

His smile dimmed, then died. What had she said?

“Thanks for the coffee, Maggie.” He walked to the sink and rinsed out his cup. “I’ll get out of your hair. You have to go to work and Faith has camp.”

“How did you know that?”

“You mentioned it last night, when you said it was time to go home.”

“Oh.” He was a sharp one. She would tuck the information away. “We’ve got time. I could fix you breakfast—”

He shook his head. “I have an appointment. But thanks anyway. I’ll let myself out.”

And then he was gone. The man dropped in and out of her life with about as much notice and the same potentially destructive force as a stealth bomber.

“Faith, it’s time to go.”

Maggie put the finishing touches on her daughter’s lunch and snapped the lid closed on her lunch box. As she put the dirty peanut butter knife in the sink, she noticed the mug Jack had used just a short time before. She rubbed her finger around the rim. It was cold; his mouth was warm. She remembered from last night. She’d never for got ten.

“Faith Elizabeth, we’re going to be late.”

The sound of the slider made her turn around. “What were you doing outside?” Maggie asked.

“Jensen is next door talking to Jack.”

Her daughter stood in front of her, the clean denim shorts and powder blue T-shirt she’d put on a short while ago now sporting dirt stains.

“How do you know this?” Maggie asked.

“I heard them talking,” she answered vaguely, digging the toe of her sneaker into the vinyl kitchen flooring.

“Have you been climbing the tree between the yards and spying on him?”

The child shook her head and Maggie marveled at how well she did the wide-eyed-innocent act. Did the ability come from herself—or Jack?

“I didn’t have to climb the tree, Mom. He was talking really loud. Something about the damned will. What does that mean?”

“First of all, that’s not a word we repeat, young lady.”

“Will?”

“You know good and well that’s not the one. Second, he was talking about his grandmother’s will, what she wanted to happen with her things after she died.”

Faith’s blue eyes suddenly filled with shadows, so like the way her father’s had just a short while ago. “I miss her, Mom.”

“Me, too, sweetie.”

“Do you think Jack is sad, too?”

“I’m sure he is. He was very close to her when he was younger.”

“I wonder why he didn’t come back,” Faith said.

Because finding something he was good at was more important than his grand mother. Or me, Maggie thought sadly.

“I couldn’t say.”

“While I was in the backyard,” the child continued, careful not to in criminate herself, “I heard them say something about selling the house.”

“It makes sense. Jack’s job is in the army. He doesn’t need to keep it,” Maggie explained.

“Sure he does.”

“Why? Because a person can’t have too many houses?”

“Yeah,” Faith agreed. “I hope he doesn’t sell it.”

“Even to someone who might have a little girl just your age?”

“I’ve already got friends my age. Kasey and Stacey are my best friends—ever.”

“I can’t imagine Jack hanging on to the house. Like you said—he hasn’t come back until now. Why wouldn’t he sell it?”

Faith shrugged her thin shoulders. “I dunno. But I hope he keeps it. I wish he’d stay, Mom.”

Uh-oh, Maggie thought. Incoming—as in heart break. Faith couldn’t possibly have any clue about her relationship to the mysterious stranger next door. Yet she’d begun a bond. No doubt because he’d plucked her out of the stock pen last night. In her daughter’s eyes, he was the proverbial man in the white hat. And she didn’t know what to say to insulate the child’s fragile feelings.

“C’mon, sweetpea. We have to get going. And there’s no time for you to change out of those clothes you got tree dirt on. If I’ve told you once, I’ve said it a hundred times—stay out of the tree. You’re going to get hurt.”

“Aw, Mom, climbing trees is as easy as pie.”

“Here’s your lunch box.” When the child took it, Maggie touched her shoulder. “No argument. No editorializing. Just do as I say—no climbing trees.”

“Yes’m.”

They hurried out the front door and Maggie turned to lock it. Then she moved down the steps and to the car. As she opened her door, she noticed Jensen walking to her BMW parked at the curb in front of the house next door.

“Hey, Jen,” she called. “How’s it going?”

The other woman turned, then smiled and waved when recognition hit. “Hi, Maggie.” She put on her sunglasses. “I’m fine. Did you hear? Taylor and Mitch got engaged last night.”

“Give them my best wishes.”

“I will, but right now Jack could use a friend.”

“What’s wrong?”

Jensen tucked a strand of mahogany hair behind her ear. “You’ll have to ask him. If he wants to say anything, he will. Attorney-client privilege.” She shrugged. “You off to work?”