Paige relayed what she could about the attack. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to have me looking up flights to Toronto before I could think better of it. I breathed a sigh of relief when Paige told me Maggie would be coming to Oak Ridge, but I had no idea she would be staying at the inn.
I want to ask what happened; I want to know if he — I stop the terrifying thought in its tracks. It’s not my place to ask questions, and I can’t put her through the ordeal of reliving it. Maggie despises me, and that’s never going to change. There’s no reason for her to open up to me, of all people, and that thought stings more than it should.
I carry her luggage up the creaky stairs, making a mental note to check the boards before rounding the corner to room six. The fucking honeymoon suite.Well played, Ma.
Mags slides between me and the door, her body brushing against mine as she reaches for the key in her pocket. Fucking hell, the last thing I need is a goddamn hard on. She gasps as the door slides open, her head swiveling in every direction, taking in her surroundings. The suite is massive, with a large antique bed taking up the center of the room.
The bed is made up with pristine white linens and a thick, hand-knitted blanket laying across the bottom. Mom has always loved adding personal touches around the place. It was a bone of contention with my dad, who didn’t think she should be wasting her time going the extra mile for strangers. The inn was mom’s dream, and he did everything he could to suck the life out of it until he finally walked out on us. She would never admit it, but a part of mom went with him that day, whether or not he deserved it. It’s only recently, with the upgrades and renovations to the inn, that Mom has truly come back to herself.
“It’s beautiful,” Maggie says, snapping me out of my memories. “Did your mom decorate it?” Her usual curt tone is replaced with one of awe as she scans her surroundings, her fingertips trailing over the soft throw blanket.
“Yeah. This place is her one true love.”
“I can see that,” she says, stepping towards the bank of windows that look out over the lake; the small mountain range our town is named for is barely visible in the distance. “It’s amazing.”
We stand in silence for what feels like ages until Maggie kicks off her shoes and plops down at the foot of the bed. My dick immediately stands at attention, imagining what she’d look like laid out on the pillows, face flushed and body writhing in the sheets.
“You can just leave the suitcases wherever,” she says, waving a dismissive hand in the air. “I’m gonna go shower. Feel free to see yourself out.”
Like a fucking perv, I watch Maggie saunter into the bathroom in her flowy blue sundress, her pert ass swaying beneath the fabric. Once the door is closed, I carefully place the bags on the cedar chestat the foot of the bed. It takes all of my willpower to keep myself in check when I hear the sound of the shower turning on, visions of Maggie wet and naked flashing in my mind.Snap out of it, Miles.
Long, hesitant strides carry me down the hall, away from the woman that calls to me like a magnet. I want to storm back into her room and kiss every mark marring her perfect body. But I can’t, so I carry on down the stairs, into the clutches of a curious Lucy Barlow. There’s nothing more dangerous than a meddling mother.
Unsurprisingly, when I get back to the front desk, my mother is looking at me like the cat that got the canary. “Don’t start, Ma.”
“I didn’t say a thing.” She taps away on the tablet with a slight smile on her face.
“You didn’t have to. In case you missed it, Maggie hates me, so you can quit while you’re behind.”
“Butyoudon’t hateher, do you?” She gives me her knowing Mama Lucy look, and I roll my eyes. “You can’t fool me, Miles. You look at her like a man starved, and she’s the last slice of pecan pie.”
“I prefer apples,” I lie, my voice sharp and defensive as I brush off the insinuation, a poorly concealed attempt to deflect from my obvious desire. “I need get to work. Luca’s waiting for me. See you later, Ma.” I kiss her cheek and head out the door, muttering a curse on the way.
“What’s got you all fucked up?” Luca asks, eyeing me around the framework of the new build at Whispering Oaks Ranch.
“No idea what you’re talking about,” I reply with a half-hearted shrug.
Luca pins me with a bemused expression. “Uh huh. So then explain to me why you just installed that shit backwards.”
“I did n — Fuck!” I throw my head back, hard hat tumbling to the concrete foundation with a thud.
Luca releases a derisive chuckle as he moves between the beams. “Heard Mags is in town.”
“Fucking Paige.”
“Nope. Rosie, actually.” I should’ve guessed. Rosie Sullivan is the town gossip and everybody knows it. That woman disseminates information like it's her sole purpose in life. She’s one of my mom’s closest friends, and the sweetest woman, as long as you don’t get on her bad side.
“I’m not even surprised.” Shaking my head, I start to undo the last thirty minutes of work.Get it together, asshole.
“You doing ok? You can talk to me, y’know. Better yet, why don’t you finally put on your big boy pants and talk toher?”
Luca knows there’s more to the story with Mags than I’ve ever told anyone, but he doesn't know the details. If he did, he probably wouldn’t be encouraging me to dredge up the past. And Mags isn’t in any state to be having a heart to heart about how spectacularly I fucked up two years ago. “Now’s not the time.”
Luca must read something in my expression because he lets the conversation go with a subtle nod of acknowledgement. “I’m here if you change your mind. In the meantime, try not to fuck up my house. Ivy might be pregnant, but she’s not too far along to murder your ass, and I’d be content to let her.”
I throw him a middle finger and carry on with the job, my thoughts turning back to the woman currently living at my mother’s inn, and rent free in my goddamn head for the last two years.
Mags