Page 53 of Scorched

“Maggie! This is a surprise. And you brought a friend.” Alice smiled at them from her position at a pottery wheel. “I’d greet you two properly, but I’m a mess.” She held up her clay-covered hands.

“We’re making pottery?” Declan asked.

Maggie turned to him. “Painting pottery.” She pointed to shelves full of dried clay pieces waiting to be painted. “Making pottery would require different clothes. I’m not touching that wheel in this dress and shoes.”

He gave her a once over, his eyes lingering on her bare legs. She’d thought about wearing boots today, but the way Declan always looked at her in high heels made her change her mind.

Alice laughed. “That would be a sight. You trying to sling clay in that skirt. You’d either have to sit like the Queen with your legs tucked to one side or with it rucked up around your hips.”

Maggie glanced at Declan at Alice’s words, heat popping out on her cheeks. His blue eyes darkened, and she could tell he was imagining her like the latter. She cleared her throat and stepped toward a table, peeling off her coat.

“I hope you don’t mind us showing up out of the blue like this. I know you come here after school most days, so I was hoping you’d let us paint a few pieces. We—Declan especially—need to blow off some steam.”

Alice’s eyes slid between them, a smile blooming on her face. She blew a tendril of her blonde hair out of her face. “There are much better ways to blow off some steam than painting pottery.”

Maggie’s face colored even more. Alice looked all demure and innocent with her wheat-colored hair and cornflower blue eyes, but she had a naughty streak. “Yes, well, we’re not interested in those ways, so here we are.”

“I call bullshit. The look on his face says that’s precisely what he’d like to do. But, hey, if you want to deny it, it’s none of my business.” She gestured to the unfinished pottery. “Have at it. I was going to do a run through the kiln later, anyway.”

Maggie refused to look at Declan. Images of him sans shirt ran through her head on a reel. He liked to walk around without one frequently. Along with shorts and lounge pants that hung low on his hips.

Was it hot in here? She fanned herself.

Doing her best to dispel those images from her mind, she walked up to the shelves and picked up a pitcher and a large square plate. They would look nice as a centerpiece on Declan’s table. She set them at a workstation, then wandered over to the glazes, looking for colors she thought would complement his existing décor.

He walked up next to her. She kept her eyes on the glaze.

“Maggie.”

“Hmm?” She poked through the bottles, still refusing to look at him. If she did, she wouldn’t be able to keep the thoughts running through her mind off her face.

“Maggie, look at me.”

She blew a breath through her nose, closing her eyes for a moment, then turned her head to meet his gaze.

Banked fire burned in his eyes. An answering heat made her cheeks burn.

“I think we need to have a serious talk about what’s happening between us.”

She picked up several bottles of glaze. “I agree. But not here.” With one last, lingering look, she walked to her workstation. She did think they needed to talk, but boy, was she not looking forward to that. Relationships weren’t her thing. And her lack of experience in the romance department was likely to come up. Confessing she’d never had sex wasn’t high on the list of conversations she wanted to have with him. It was one she intended to put off as long as possible. Call her a chicken, but she didn’t care. It was mortifying to confess to the man who made your body tremble with just a look that at the ripe age of twenty-eight, no one had seen her naked.

Maggie glanced at Declan through her lashes, her head bent as she worked on the plate. He’d taken up residence at the table next to her and chosen a coffee mug to paint.

He looked up and caught her watching him. A sexy smile spread over his face, and she looked away. She should have just driven him home, then holed up with her case prep.

Doing her best to keep her eyes on her project, she decided to ombre the pitcher, using shades of blue-green. Despite what she thought, she was able to shove her feelings back in their little box and soon relaxed into her task. It helped calm her mind, not just of thoughts of Declan, but of her assault case tomorrow. She was hoping for a quick acquittal, but with the craziness of late, she was not counting on it.

“Maggie, that looks fantastic.” Alice came up behind her to look at what she’d done.

“Thanks.” She turned the pitcher, double-checking her transition zones. They looked pretty smooth. “I think I’m done.”

“Great. You can just leave them there and I’ll put them in the kiln later.”

Maggie nodded, then looked at Declan, who had moved on to a full set of mugs while she worked on her stuff. “What are you going to do with all those?”

He shrugged. “Keep one and give the rest away.” He smiled at her. “I’m glad you brought me here. You were right; this is relaxing.”

“Good. Are you about ready to go? I’m hungry.”

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