Page 56 of Sirens
“I’m sorry,” she sputtered, lifting her hands to her face. “I don’t know why I asked that. That’s a lie. I do. The way you were around the sheriff, how you were tripping all over yourself…” Her throat tightened, cutting off the remainder of her words.
In an instant, his face shifted from earnest to angry. His jaw clenched, and his eyes narrowed as he looked at her. “Fuck me. You didn’t think I was embarrassed about being caught by my boss. You thought I was embarrassed about being caught withyou.”
The truth of it hit Maggie like a slap across the face. To her horror, she felt tears welling up in her eyes, and she tried desperately to blink them away.
“Hey,” McGarvey murmured, his anger evaporating as quickly as it had appeared. He reached out to touch her arm, but Maggie pushed him away and covered her face with her hands.
Her vision began to blur as her lower lip twitched into a wobble.
God. Fucking. Damn it.
As tears spilled down her cheeks, she felt the solid warmth of McGarvey’s hands on her knees.
“Even if you’re not embarrassed by me,” she said, her voice shaky, “I need you to know that I know I’ll never be ‘that girl.’”
McGarvey furrowed his brow, puzzled. “What girl?”
“You know,” Maggie continued. “That girl. The one who sits alone at a coffee shop, and people walking by fall in love by accident. The girl that’s pretty enough to pretend to be surprised when people tell her she is. The one whose hair looks effortlessly sexy in a messy bun, and having a sense of humor is a bonus feature instead of a requirement that justifies her presence. The one whose messes get to be endearing because it’s a relief to know she’s not as perfect as she looks.”
McGarvey shook his head in disbelief. “No,youlook, Michaels,” he began, leaning in so close that she could feel the warmth of his breath on her face. His eyes were fierce, a storm brewing just off the coast. “I don’t know what kind of asshole your ex was or what he said to you to make you think you’re anything but a fucking feast for every single one of my senses, but I can assure you that by the time the sun drags its ass up over the horizon in the morning, you will know exactly how I feel about every part of your body.”
The intensity of his words sent a shiver down Maggie’s spine, making her heart race and her palms sweat. She searched his face for any sign of insincerity but found none. The truth was there, burning in his eyes like twin beacons, guiding her out of the fog of self-doubt.
So why did his declaration piss her right the hell off?
“I don’t need your reassurance, okay?” she said, her voice trembling slightly. “I know that I’m allowed to love my body, and dress however the fuck I want. I know I’ll never lack for men who want to fuck me. But before I’ll ever get to know whether they like me, I have to make sure they like my body type first because I’m never not aware that I repulse certain men just by existing. I’m never not aware that for those men, any other weird, or annoying, or undesirable quality I have will always be multiplied by my size.”
McGarvey’s face remained impassive, but his gaze held a softness that made her pulse surge. He seemed to be searching for the right words to say, but they were lost somewhere between his brain and his tongue. Instead, he simply looked at her—reallylooked at her—and she could feel his gaze peeling back the layers of her soul.
Just then, Roxie trotted over, her tail wagging as she ran into the legs of all three barstools before gently nuzzling Maggie’s ankle. As her hands fell from her face, she caught sight of her mascara-streaked fingers and felt a jolt of mortification.
“Shit,” she muttered, staring down at her ruined makeup. “This is just great.”
McGarvey took a step back, and, for a heartbeat, she thought he intended to turn around to leave.
She probably wouldn’t have even blamed him.
But instead, he walked over to the counter, dampened a paper towel, and brought it back to her. Maggie stared at it, expecting him to hand it to her. Instead, he guided her hand back to her side and began to gently dab her tear-stained face himself.
“Here,” he said, his voice gentle as he wiped the tear tracks from her cheeks. “Hold still.”
“I’m okay,” she said, attempting to swat him away.
“You’ve been crying, and you wear contacts,” he said, his voice soft but laced with the faintest hint of humor. “One slip with those nails, and your vitreous humor will be part of your skin care routine.”
She couldn’t help the small, surprised laugh that bubbled up from her chest, even as she fought to keep her eyes from filling with fresh tears. His touch was featherlight, soothing away the sting of her earlier humiliation as easily as he blotted the mascara-smudged tracks on her cheeks.
“Thanks,” Maggie whispered, feeling an odd sense of vulnerability as she sat still. The warmth of his hands on her skin sent shivers down her spine, while the intoxicating scent of him filled her senses.
“Better,” he said, stepping back to survey his work. She nodded, touched by his concern.
“Well, this is officially the worst seduction ever, yeah? I went to all this trouble and couldn’t even leverage the one tool in my arsenal that has anything to do with sex on purpose.”
McGarvey raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. “And what tool would that be?”
“Vee talked me into this ridiculously lush silk slip,” she explained, rolling her eyes.
“Go put it on,” he said.
