Page 37 of Playing for Keeps in Starr's Fall
Maggie let out a little sound of surprise as Zach strolled into the kitchen. He raised his eyebrows as he came closer. “Are you okay? You seem very jumpy.”
“I’m fine,” Maggie said quickly. “Just nervous about making that espresso, that’s all.”
“Somehow I don’t think that’s it.” Zach’s voice came out in a low, lazy murmur that twined around Maggie’s senses. She focused on the espresso machine—inserting the portafilter and slipping an espresso shot glass underneath. She pushed the button to brew it while Zach took a step closer. And then another one.
“Don’t,” she said quietly. It was all she could think to say, because every sense and nerve was twanging on high alert.
Zach stilled. “Don’t what?”
Maggie let out a shaky laugh as she felt a blush rise to her cheeks. “I don’t even know. Show me those bedroom eyes. Stand so close to me that I cansmellyou?—”
Zach laughed softly. “That’s kind of worrying. Do I really smell?”
“You smellgood,” Maggie admitted hopelessly. “Too good.” She couldn’t believe she’d said so much, and yet right then honesty felt like the only way to preserve her sanity… and keep Zach at a distance.
Which was what she wanted, right?
“So you are tempted,” Zach murmured, and Maggie let out a long, shaky sigh.
“Every woman in Starr’s Fall is tempted, as far as I can see.”
“Don’t,” Zach quietly, “make this about anyone else. This is about you and me.”
You and me. Was there such a thing?
“The espresso is ready.” She reached for the espresso glass and thrust it at Zach. He caught her hand in his, taking the shot glass from her nerveless fingers and setting it down on the counter while he still kept hold of her hand. When she dared to look up at him, she saw that same sleepy and intent look on his face. His lips were parted, his lids at half-mast, his eyes glinting. He was so darned good-looking, and he really was, Maggie thought with a thrill of wonder, going to kiss her.
And then he did.
He dipped his head slowly, taking his time, giving her every opportunity to pull away which she probably should have, yet somehow she couldn’t. And when she didn’t, he brushed his lips across hers just once, then twice, like ahello, and then ahow are you.
And Maggie answered by parting her lips, letting her head fall back. Saying with her body what was cartwheeling through her mind.I was pretty good, but I just got a whole lot better.
Zach deepened the kiss. Maggie’s head spun. At some point, her arms came around his shoulders, palms sliding over his biceps as a sigh escaped her and he laughed softly—and then kissed her again. Their hips bumped. Heat flared. And they were still kissing.
It felt so good—like coming home and zooming up to outer space all at once. She felt safe, but she also felt wildly excited, and the heady mix of both emotions sent everything in her swirling with both need and joy. Her hands roamed down his back as he pulled her closer. They werestillkissing.
“Mom…” Ben’s voice floated down the stairs. Maggie sprang away from Zach like a scalded cat, wiping her mouth while he looked at her bemusedly, his face flushed, his hair ruffled. “I think the pizzas are ready,” Ben called.
“Coming.” Maggie’s voice sounded strangled. She couldn’t even look at Zach, not until she’d gone over what had just happened and made some sense of it. Figured out why he’d kissed her, what it meant, and just how much she’d embarrassed herself.
“Maggie…” Zach began, but she couldn’t listen.
“The pizzas,” she gasped out, and ran up the stairs.
13
Maggie lay in bed and stared up at the sun-dappled ceiling as a rather silly smile spread across her face. She was thinking about that kiss. Again.
She stretched, pointing her toes and flinging her arms over her head. The doubts and worries and over-analysis could all come later—and certainly would—but for now, she just wanted to enjoy recalling the magical feeling of kissing someone who made her head spin.
She wouldn’t think about the fact that Zach was so much younger than her, or that it might be Ben’s heart that was broken if things went wrong, never mind her own, or the churning guilt she felt that after only sixteen months of mourning, she was kissing another man.
She wouldn’t think of any of that, except, too bad, she was.
Maggie sighed as she lowered her arms and blinked hard. For just a few minutes she wanted to revel in last night. Admittedly, she had not handled herself as maturely as she might have wished, practically sprinting away from Zach after he’d kissed her, but she’d redeemed herself later when she’d managed to act mostly natural for the rest of the evening, although she’d felt anything but. She’d kept reliving that kiss and remembering just how good it had made her feel, and she’d realized she just wanted to focus on that. It had been so long since she’d felt wanted. Since she’d beentouched. And even if it was just a kiss and didn’t go anywhere—which it probably wouldn’t—she’d realized she was glad it had happened. And meanwhile, all evening, Zach kept sliding her curious looks, like he was trying to figure out her thought process.
He’d stayed until ten, playing RQ with Ben while Maggie did some paperwork for the café, and then she had walked him down to the front door to say goodbye while Ben got ready for bed.
