Page 26 of Sighs By the Sea

She raises a single brow. “Does Mr. Cardenas not share?” Oh, how I love the way she says that. It makes me feel powerful and validated. Not being rich and in charge anymore does bother me, if I’m honest with myself. The mighty have fallen. But hearing her mouth form the designation does things to me that I’m trying very hard to ignore.

“I might be persuaded, Detective.” Our eyes meet, and I see a flicker of fire in her irises. Teasing! That's right. Some women like to be teased as a form of flirting. Damn. I can't believe I forgot that. I'm off my game from being benched so long.

She scrunches up her nose and shakes her head. “Call me Maggie.” Oh, I would love to call her Maggie while she's under me, eyes closed, mouth opened with a silent scream of pleasure.

Damn. I'm doing it again. Skipping to date three when she hasn't even agreed that this is our second date. Hell, even the first date wasn't real. An impromptu dinner with me and George probably doesn't count. The kiss did, though.

The memory of it has my lips tugging up. “It’s a beautiful name. Where did your parents come up with it?”

“My parents didn’t call me Maggie.” Something like disgust crosses her face. She reaches for her glass and runs a finger along the edge. Without meeting my eyes, she says, “In fact, I went by Margaret up until a week ago.”

“What prompted the change?” I think I already know the answer. It doesn’t take a genius to realize that was when we had dinner together at my home.

Her expression turns just a tad sultry. Oh, I like that, a lot. My cock especially. “I liked when you said it.” There’s no way I would admit I did it purely for my son. George still has trouble with the ‘r’ sound, and ‘Margaret’ would have been difficult.

She swirls her glass, watching the red drink slosh around. “I always wanted to be taken seriously. Detective is still, for some dumb reason, considered a man’s job. And my parents, too, they never seemed to take me seriously. They didn’t have the time or energy for me at all, even when I was young. So I was always called Margaret.”

How could anyone not take her seriously? She’s damn good at her job as far as I can tell. I’ve met a lot of cops over the years. Many had taken small bribes easily from my family. After knowing her a short time, I can tell that’s something she would never do.

The waiter returns and refills my tea, asking if we need anything else. I wave him away with a flick of my wrist, only wanting to focus on the beauty in front of me.

After he is gone, I continue our conversation as if it had never been interrupted. “I’m sorry, Maggie. If there’s something I can’t stand, it’s bad parents.”

She nods and takes a long drink. “Not everyone can be as lucky as George,” she says.

My heart churns. She’s calling me a good dad. “I try. With his mother gone, it hasn’t been easy.”

“Can I ask what happened?”

I take a long breath. “We married quickly. I was head over heels. She got pregnant fast, and I was a little shocked but happy. I don’t think she understood the reality of my… family."

Her scowl deepens at the mention of my family. "That seems rash." Tilting my head, I wait for her to explain. "Marrying without knowing the family. Was there a reason you rushed into it?"

My lips twitch at the question. She's inquisitive, and I find myself wondering if she was born that way or if it was taught to her when becoming a detective. I'll bet anything it's the former option. "No reason other than thinking we were in love."

"But you weren't?"

I shake my head. "Looking back, I can see that we weren't. Suzanne paid attention to me, she trusted me, and she was gorgeous. Like I said, we were young. I thought those things equated to love."

She nods like everything is making more sense. "So, I know the official story. But I'm guessing when she found out what your family did, she was upset."

"Yes, she wanted me to leave them. I wouldn’t, and things went downhill quickly."

"Fighting?" she asks.

That makes me break our gaze. No, it wasn't fighting. I probably wasn't even invested enough in our marriage at that point to argue with her. "She went downhill quickly. Started drinking too much. So I got her some therapy, but still, she turned to other things. Prescribed things, but too much. My family found out, and they… intervened.”

Her face is a mess of shock. Why did I tell her all that? I really am being ridiculous. We’re supposed to be talking about my information. But Maggie makes me feel like opening up. Her long looks and easy smile make me certain my words are safe with her. I stare at the table, unbelieving the story came out. Maggie’s soft hand rests on top of mine. I meet her eyes. “It’s been four years, but it still isn’t easy. That’s why when I saw my grandfather doing the same thing to Tilly, I had to stop it.”

“You did the right thing.”

“I think it’s why she’s helping me so much now.”

“Or she loves you,” she says, squeezing my hand. At the touch, a delicious feeling spreads like flames all up my arm. This touch is no accident. She's meant to comfort me, to have that physical connection. “Does Tilly ever visit your grandfather in jail?”

“Not that I know of. Why?”

“She’s the only one he put on his visitor’s list.”

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