Page 6 of Playing for Keeps in Starr's Fall
“And you can always call me if you need to. Or text?—”
“Mom.” Ben gave her a look that was half hurt, half exasperation. “I’ll be fine.”
“Okay.” She nodded mechanically. After everything he’d been through, it was hard not to be overprotective. She was in a constant battle with herself not to swoop in and hover over him, protecting him from so much as a paper cut. Like Ben had said earlier, she needed to chill. “Okay,” she said again, and headed outside.
Starr’s Fall at five-thirty on a January evening was, Maggie discovered, both dark and freezing. The wrought-iron streetlamps lining the street were like something out of Narnia but only half of them were working, and the air was cold enough to freeze the inside of her nose, which was not a pleasant feeling.
She climbed into her station wagon, praying it would start in this cold, half-wishing she’d taken up Matt’s offer of a Porsche SUV when he’d got his promotion. She’d refused, both out of pique and a deep-seated desire not to bethatkind of person. When she’d tried to explain it to Matt, he’d been exasperated as well as a little hurt.
“What kind of person?” he’d demanded. “The kind of person who drives a Porsche?”
“Yes,” she’d cried. “Exactly.”
“ButIdrive a Porsche,” he’d reminded her, to which Maggie had not been able to think of a suitable reply. Matt had been so proud of his sports convertible, bought with one of his bonuses. She hadn’t had the heart to say she didn’t like that car, either.
Okay, she really needed to stop thinking this way. “Only good memories,” she muttered under her breath, a necessary reminder, and started the car.
Slice of Heaven was in a small, sad-looking strip mall on the far side of town that had exactly three storefronts, two of which were empty and clearly had been for a while. It was a depressing and salient reminder that Starr’s Fall had hit on some hard times since they’d come here five years ago.
Back then, Maggie recalled seeing a few more cute boutiques and shops, as well as a Michelin-starred restaurant somewhere on the outskirts where she and Matt had eaten dinner. During her and Ben’s brief visits over the last few months, she’d noticed quite a few empty stores, the for-rent or for-sale signs looking like they’d been out for a while. There had certainly been plenty to choose from when they’d made their purchase. Andthiswas the place they’d decided to set up a new business? Her sister didn’t even know the half of her insanity.
Still, she told herself as she headed into the pizza place, there were a few thriving businesses around. Laurie Ellis, who had so kindly introduced herself at Thanksgiving, clearly was managing to keep her pet store Max’s Place going. And her boyfriend, Joshua, had the bookstore across the street, which looked inviting. Plus, on the way into town, they’d driven by a bakery, an ice cream parlor, and a diner. And now, as she headed toward the pizza place, she saw a “Now Open” sign plastered in the window, so she and Ben weren’t the only ones starting a business here.
There was one customer waiting for his pizza in Slice of Heaven, his back to Maggie as he leaned against the counter. She’d just taken her place behind him in line when he turned around and she sucked in a startled breath, which caused her to choke, which was hugely embarrassing, because the only reason she’d been surprised at all was that the man in front of her was so ridiculously good-looking.
“Are you okay?” he asked in concern as he lifted a hand to pat her back, but then held back, no doubt wondering about the propriety of such an action.
“I’m fine,” Maggie assured him, refusing to cough even though her eyes were watering with the desperate need to. “Fine. Just… swallowed the wrong way.” The effort of speaking had her erupting into coughs she couldn’t contain, so for a few seconds she choked and spluttered, feeling ridiculous. The man decided to pat her back, gently, his palm warm even through her coat. “Sorry,” she wheezed, and then dragged another breath into her lungs, willing herself to stop hacking.
“It’s okay. It happens.” He smiled, flashing a full set of straight, white teeth, and Maggie stared at him, mesmerized. He was like a combination of all the gorgeous movie actors she’d swooned over through the years—dirty blond hair that was artfully disheveled, swept back from blue-green eyes that were so vivid they simplyhadto be contact lenses, except Maggie was pretty sure they weren’t. A chiseled jaw glinting with golden stubble, and as for the rest of him… well, she could see the definition of his six-pack through hissweater. “Sorry,” she murmured again, and took a step back for good measure, because besides looking good, he smelled nice too, like a pine forest. And, she told herself sternly, she was a widow and he looked to be about twenty years old, soew.
“Zach?” A man emerged from the kitchen, holding a pizza box. “Extra spicy chorizo and pepperoni pizza?”
“That’s me.”
“Wow,” Maggie said, and then could have cursed herself for being the nosiest, most awkward person imaginable.
The man—Zach—turned around, one golden eyebrow arched. “You have a problem with my pizza?” he asked, and to her mortification, his tone was flirtatious. Oh, heaven help her, to be the object of such pity, that a stunningly good-looking guy like him would flirt with her, the way you might toss a bone to an old, sad dog.
“Well, I certainly couldn’t eat it,” she replied, and to her further mortification,shesounded flirtatious. What on earth was wrong with her? She was a widow, for heaven’s sake. She was a middle-aged, libido-less, desiccatedwidow. Flirting with akidwho looked young enough to almost be her son.
“No?” His mouth—and a very nice mouth it was—quirked into a smile. “Why not?”
“All that pepperoni? It would give me gas.” Which was, Maggie realized as her cheeks turned scarlet, the verbal equivalent of farting in public. Which was basically what she’d just said she would be doing. So much for flirting; she was now being awkward and weird. Thank God Ben hadn’t come with her. Although if he had, maybe she would not have acted like this. Clearly she could not be trusted in public on her own. After a year of watching and rewatching episodes ofIs It Cake?by herself, she had no idea how to relate to other people in a vaguely normal way.
Zach, however, laughed, sounding genuinely amused. “That doesn’t mean it isn’t worth eating,” he pointed out. “You just have to take the consequences.”
Maggie only shook her head. Her whole face was hot, and she wanted nothing more than to escape to her car so she could privately melt into a puddle of pure mortification.
The guy behind the counter was looking bemused by their whole exchange. Hanging her head, Maggie stepped forward to receive her own order. “Large black olive and pineapple pizza,” she whispered.
“Black olive andpineapple?” Zach exclaimed from behind her. “Okay, now I think we need to have a serious discussion about pizza topping choices.”
“It’s a weird one,” she managed to admit in a voice that she hoped sounded somewhat normal. “My son picked it so nobody else would ever ask to share his pizza.”
If she thought he might be fazed by the fact she had a son—although why would he? She had no idea, since obviously there was absolutely nothing going on here atall—he wasn’t. “Sounds like a smart kid,” he remarked.
“He is,” she agreed firmly. She took the pizza box with a murmured thanks and then, without meeting Zach’s eye, started to sidle from the store.
