Page 50 of Absinthe Minded

The digital clockon the nightstand proved far less entertaining than the fully clothed woman in my arms, but I stared at it anyway. I needed the distraction to keep my mind and my hands still. She’d taken me by surprise when she’d asked me to stay.

Hell, I’d surprised myself with the half-assed proposal. I should have known better than to spring it on her like that. She deserved better, but Maggie had a way of making me act before I thought.

When we’d dated before, her intensity had scared me. Not that I minded smart women, quite the contrary, but in my line of work, a strong-willed woman didn’t last long. She’d ask questions and demand answers—answers I couldn’t give.

At twenty-one, her optimism shined like the sun. She believed she could change the world, and I had no doubt she would succeed. The woman had every conceivable detail of her future planned out. When I realized those plans included me, I made the decision to let her go for her own good.Who was I to tie her to a world she would never understand, let alone accept? Only the man who regretted pushing her away every fucking day of my life.

I’d avoided her until Joe and Rebecca’s funeral. Maggie had seemed so different then. She’d matured in the years we’d spent apart. Oddly enough, she’d taken on more of Rebecca’s softer, more nurturing personality. Lately, she even looked more like her sister. Maggie had traded in her sexy skinny jeans and high heels for yoga pants and sneakers.

Since the funeral, it seemed like she’d focused all of her energy and determination on a single goal—being a surrogate mother and father to three grieving children.

As much as I hated to admit it, I missed the old Maggie. The girl with fire in her veins. The gorgeous, self-confident woman who wouldn’t let anyone or anything stop her from reaching her dreams. She was in there somewhere—all I had to do was draw her out.

Maggie’s phone rang.

She bolted upright and nearly broke my nose in the process. “Sorry. Are you okay?”

Pain bloomed in my face and my vision blurred. “I’ll live.”

She searched for her phone. “Where’s my cell? It could be about the kids.”

I plucked it from the nightstand and handed it to her.

“This better be good, Shanna. It’s five in the morning.” She listened a moment.

A garbled female voice came across the line, but I couldn’t make out what she’d said.

Maggie nodded several times and turned to me.

One word rang out loud and clear, “Marchionni.”

“Shanna, this isn’t funny.” Maggie’s brow furrowed and the color drained from her face. “He’s right here. I need to go.”

Her complexion changed from pale to angry red. “That was Shanna. She’s close with Dahlia, your brother’s friend. Would you mind telling me why half of New Orleans thinks we’re engaged?”

“Already?” Once again, my mouth got ahead of my brain.

“What do you meanalready?” Maggie crawled out of the bed and paced. “What in the hell is going on? Why are you really here?”

My temples throbbed, along with my nose. “Slow down, Mags. Let me explain.”

“I don’t want to hear it. Put some freaking clothes on and get out.” She turned her back to me, but she couldn’t hide the fact she was crying.

“Maggie, I—”

“We have court in two days. Did your mother put you up to this?” She rounded on me.

“Not exactly.”

“What do you mean, not exactly?” Her voice had quieted several notches, but her anger bubbled beneath the surface. “How does anyone know anything about this? You just mentioned a ring last night. By the way, that was a piss-poor proposal,ifthat’s what you meant it to be.”

“It was. It is.” I eased closer to her. “I went to my folks when Ella’s mother—”

“This is bad. If the magazine finds out…” She hugged herself and bent at the waist.

“Sweetheart, you need to calm down.” I rested my hand between her shoulders.

Maggie stood upright, but her gaze flitted around the room. “What do your parents have to do with this?”

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