Page 36 of Fumbling for Affection

“The lasagna should be ready any minute and then all I need to do is toss the salad.” Maggie filled the vase and broke the florist’s seal as she peeled off the paper tissue, delighted that he’d gone out of his way. These weren’t a grocery store or gas station bouquet.

“They’re lovely. Did you pick them out?” she asked as her delight dwindled—white daisies with orange and yellow roses, all symbols of admiration and friendship.

“I did.” He sounded pleased. “The roses looked perfect for fall, and I like daisies. They reminded me of you.”

Oh, okay then, she thought, smiling as she trimmed a yellow rose stem and placed it in the water. She’d popped the last stem into the vase when the oven buzzed. “Do you want me to pull it out?” Lucas asked, and she mentally cringed at his question as she set the gigantic bouquet at the end of the counter.

“Why?” she asked, slipping on the oven mitts.

“Because it’s hot and heavy.”

“I know it’s heavy. I put it in here.” She opened the oven door, and the heat blanketed her skin.

“But it’s hot now,” he protested. She pulled out the pan—the fragrant sauce bubbled around the edges and the three cheeses were lightly browned on top. “Wow, that looks and smells incredible,” he said, peering over her shoulder.

She tossed the oven mitts to the side and elbowed him back as she pulled out the salad she’d made earlier. “Italian or Caesar dressing?” she asked, her hand poised above the bottles.

“You chose. I like them both.” She grabbed the less garlicky Italian one as he moved back to his chair. Maggie poured the dressing over the salad, stealing a glance at Lucas. His eyes darted around the apartment, and he rubbed the back of his neck.

“Croutons?” she asked, shaking the bag at him, and hoping he’d say yes. She’d made them earlier that afternoon with her special blend of dried herbs and a heavy hand of shredded Parmesan cheese. Store bought couldn’t compare.

“Definitely.” He snagged one that had fallen on the counter. “Mmm, I could eat this like popcorn,” he said, and Maggie felt her annoyance at him ease as she gave him a small smile. “Just so you know, when I offered to take the lasagna out, I wasn’t implying you weren’t capable, it’s just that”—he shrugged, looking like a little boy—“taking heavy stuff out of the oven is what I do for my abuela and mom. It’s the excuse that keeps me in the kitchen with them.”

“That’s sweet,” she said, thoroughly charmed by his admission and the slight pink tinge on his cheeks. “Next time I’ll let you do it.” He smiled and Maggie swore the temperature in her kitchen rose. If it got much hotter, she’d need to crack a window.

She pulled out plates and silverware and set them on the breakfast bar. “We can either eat here or out on the couch.” Maggie had almost asked to borrow Penny’s small kitchen table and chairs, but that would have added extra pressure to this evening. An evening she still hadn’t figured out. Lucas’s interest blew all over the map.

“Here,” he said, moving the bouquet to the living room’s coffee table, creating more space. Maggie noticed he didn’t move the bar stools apart. “I don’t want to be any further from that lasagna than I need to be.”

“Why don’t you get started and”—she handed him a plate—“I’ll get our beverages.” He didn’t need to be asked twice as he eagerly served himself. She poured them each a glass of red wine and set ice water near their silverware.

Lucas spread the red-and-white checked napkin across his lap and waited for Maggie to join him. She slid onto her stool between him and the wall. He could have scooted his stool away from hers for more room, but he didn’t. Their knees pressed together, and Maggie had a hard time focusing on her food.

Lucas didn’t. He dove into the layers of pasta, hearty meat sauce, and three cheeses as if he hadn’t eaten all day. He slowed down as he neared the end and stabbed at his salad. “Help yourself to more,” Maggie said, when she caught him eyeing the pan.

“This is the best meal I’ve had in a long time,” he said, refilling his plate. “You’re like a sorceress with food.” Maggie choked on her wine, George laughed over his food dish, and Lucas rubbed her back. Heat flooded her face as she remembered the last time she’d choked around him and Nanna had shoved her hands overhead. The back rub was a heck of a lot nicer.

Now that they had food in their bellies, they turned more of their attention to each other. Maggie asked him what he’d done in previous off-seasons, and Lucas asked her about the holiday events planned at Marketplace. “Brewster’s puts up the bare minimum of holiday decorations and Get Lost blows everyone away each year. Elspeth and Penny go all out, and all the merchants contribute to host Santa and his reindeer for the two weekends before Christmas. Families love it.” The more Maggie told him about the holiday festivities, the more he withdrew from her. She stopped talking and heavy silence mixed with the lingering scents of dinner.

“Have I upset you?” she asked as she topped off her wine. Lucas covered the top of his glass and she set the bottle down with a frown.

“I try to hold it to one drink during the season.” Not the answer I was looking for, she thought, giving him a tight smile. He finished his dinner and pushed away the empty plate. “Too tempted to lick it, and if I lick it, you won’t invite me back.”

“You’re not acting like you want to come back.” The words slipped from her mouth, but she didn’t regret them. It was too early in whatever-this-was to be playing games. If he wasn’t into her, she needed to know, and she needed to tell him to stop sending mixed signals. He needed to tell her to either land or fly away, but he couldn’t keep her in a holding pattern.

He leaned his elbows on the table and Maggie heard the slight crunch of his styling gel as his fingers raked through his hair. “Sorry. All this talk of happy families reminded me of the fight I had with my dad after I saw you last. Although fight would be an exaggeration since he didn’t seem to care.”

“Tell me,” Maggie said, exchanging her fingers for the knife his fingers fiddled with. Touching him was a cheap but harmless trick. It would transfer some of his negative energy to her, which she’d evaporate, and hopefully create the space he needed to talk to her. To share his burden. His shoulders relaxed and his thumb stroked the back of her hand. It was nice, but it would be nicer if he’d share.

“I’d called my dad on the way home. To check-in. Usually my mom answers, but she worked that night. I mentioned the Soup-a-thon and what a great opportunity it would be for Rodriguez Farms to be a sponsor, and he blew me off. Told me it wasn’t my job to worry about the farm. I only had to worry about football. All I am to him is a football player and the farm’s personal banker. He can’t see me as anything else.”

“That’s awful. For both of you.” Maggie couldn’t solve this for him or show him a clear path. Clearing out the mental and emotional junk for others was Harper’s skill set. As the reluctant witch in their family coven, Maggie hadn’t developed her skills to their full potential, and she was usually okay with that, but right now, being able to read more than his angry aura would be helpful. Your own doesn’t look too cheerful either.

George jumped in her lap and head-butted her chin. Lucas released her hand, and they both petted the cat, who purred in delight. “I didn’t mean to bring you down,” he said.

“You didn’t. Not really. Just got me to thinking.” He leaned forward, interested. “I’ve thought a lot about your suggestion that I ask my parents or Five for a loan, and I was going to, but now that I’ve heard your story, I’m second-guessing myself. They won’t see me as a good investment, only as the mediocre kid.”

“Maggie, your family is nothing like mine.” His eyes flashed and George pressed against her as if the one-eyed, ten-pound cat could protect her from an NFL linebacker. “I have felt more welcomed and appreciated by everyone in your family in the last few months than most of my family in years. Other than your rude behavior and cutting comments.” His smile softened the sting in his words, and Maggie hoped he was teasing her. She had treated him abominably.

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