Chapter 24
Peggy crawled off the couch when she heard the knock. Please, God, let it be Tanner. Her cold had taken up residence in her lungs, which had meant another day at home. Keith was there with her; the poor kid’s leg was hurting too badly for him to go to school.
What a pair they were. Last night, she’d held Keith while he cried, struggling not to cough all over him. Dickens couldn’t have scripted a sadder scene.
Even pulling the door open took effort. When she saw Mac Maven on her front step, she thought she had finally gone crazy. Was her fever causing hallucinations?
“You look as though you’ve had a tough night. I brought the patient something to cheer him up.” He jiggled the bag. “I also brought you lunch. Chicken noodle soup.”
Surprise made her back up.
He wiped his shoes before coming inside. “Where are you holed up?”
“Living room.”
He took her arm like some candy striper, minus the pink and peppiness. Her whole head was a mass of pain, congestion, and fuzziness. His presence made it wobble. Why was he here?
Keith rolled over on the floor, taking his eyes off the endless parade of Disney movies she’d stuck in the DVD player to keep his mind off his leg.
“Hi, Keith,” Maven said as he led her to the couch. “I brought you something. There’s this great rule. When you go to the hospital, people bring you presents. I didn’t think you’d like flowers.”
The fire engine wrapping paper made Keith’s eyes widen. “Nah, they’re for girls.”
Maven sat down beside her son on the floor. The contrast between his navy blazer and slacks and Keith’s Spiderman pajamas couldn’t have been more striking.
“I like the color of the cast. Blue’s my favorite color. How does it feel?”
“Hurts. I couldn’t sleep.”
Maven ruffled his hair. “I bet, but it will get better. Before you know it, you’ll be riding your bike again. Why don’t you open your gift? I thought it would be a good accessory for when you get back on your bike.”
He tore off the paper. His breath rushed out. “Man, this is so cool! Mom, look!”
It was the most excited she’d seen him in a week. God, she must be an exhausted, germ-infested wreck because tears welled up. She used her last strength to get a grip.
“I see.”
“A Woody bike helmet. I love Toy Story! This is the best-est present ever.”
Keith couldn’t open the box, so Maven drew out a Swiss army knife and cut the tape.
“How did you know I like him?” Keith stroked the shiny helmet.
Woody’s face grinned, his wide eyes reminding her of insane asylum residents. Man, animators produced some weird stuff.
“Lucky guess,” Maven commented as he rose. “Besides, I thought you might like to pretend you have a law enforcement job like your mom.”
Peggy couldn’t take her eyes away from Maven as he came closer and sat on the couch.
“You look stunned,” he murmured so Keith couldn’t hear. “Did you think I’d bring him poker chips?”
Since she’d been less than nice to him yesterday, she understood the sarcasm. “No, and I’m not assuming you bought him a bike helmet because you think I’m a bad mother. He has one,” she added, wanting to defend herself. “He doesn’t like to wear it. Constant battle.”
Maven folded his arms. “With safety being one of your principal concerns, I expected no less. He’s a kid. Helmets aren’t cool. I tried to get him one that was.”
“It was very nice of you,” she said, her heart wringing as she watched her little boy put the helmet on before turning back to the movie.
“Of course, you may have trouble getting him to take it off so you can wash his hair.”
Peggy didn’t move away when his warm thigh pressed against her. She simply noticed the firm muscle beneath the immaculate crease of his pants.
“I don’t care as long as he’s happy.”
Maven reached for her arm and helped her up. “Spoken like an overtired, concerned mother. Let’s get some soup in you.”
Peggy sank into the kitchen chair, watching him open cabinets until he found what he needed. The domestic movements didn’t diminish his manliness. With its strong cheekbones and square jaw, his face could have been the model for one of those fancy busts in a museum. When he placed the soup bowl in front of her, she simply curled forward. The steam was magic, warming the cheekbones she wasn’t sure would ever stop throbbing.
“That bad, huh?” Maven commented from behind her. There was a sandpaper-like sound, and then his palms settled on her back. The warmth spread out like a shock wave.
“What are you, Mr. Miagi?” she asked, barely able to hold herself up.
He chuckled. “I played poker in a three-day tourney in Hong Kong a few years ago. By the second day, my cold had me playing on fumes. One of the locals was impressed with my playing. When he offered to help ease my cold symptoms so I could finish the game, I let him. Desperation makes you open to new experiences. Seemed a bit odd when he put his hands on my chest, but it worked. I won the entire pot ten hours later. I didn’t think you’d appreciate me putting my hands on your chest, so this will have to do.” His hands were still on her back.
“You thought right.” Although she could imagine it—barely.
“Of course, I can’t guarantee this will work, but there’s something about energy medicine and the body. Like reiki. It’s all the rage.”
She blew on the soup to increase the steam. “Where’d you hear that?”
“I like to read. Plus, I was curious after that guy made me feel better. When I get curious, I find out stuff.”
She became aware of Keith singing along with the movie he was watching. Was that Kill the Beast again? Whatever Maven was, he’d worked a miracle by taking her son’s mind off the pain, something she’d been too sick to accomplish.
Her hands reached for the spoon blindly. When she took the first taste, she almost purred. Her throat might be the size of a straw, but the hot soup was as soothing as butter on a burn.
“Better?”
“Yes,” she answered, a noodle pirouetting off her spoon and back into the bowl.
“Good.” His hands rubbed her back, once, twice, before falling away.
The chair scraped as he sat down opposite her.
“Why are you here?” she asked between spoonfuls.
“I wanted to check on Keith. Plus, I’m more than a little interested by you. It’s been a while since I’ve met someone who intrigues and challenges me like you do.”
Right, he was a curious sort of guy. She’d have to remember that.
“Plus, when I get involved in something, I like to see it through.”
“Me too,” she agreed, realizing she’d eaten all the soup.
“You should put a pot on the stove. Steam your face.”
How did he know these things? It made him seem like a normal person and not some jet-setting poker player. Then she remembered what he’d said about a sister and a nephew.
“I will. My brother’s coming over to be with Keith again.”
He took the bowl to the sink. “It’s hard for you to ask for help.”
Jeez, how did he know these things? The hot tea he put in front of her warmed her hands. But it did nothing to thaw her feelings about his plans for Dare. “I won’t change my mind about the hotel.”
“I’d be disappointed if you did so suddenly, but I am hoping you change your mind about it—and me.”
The interest in his gaze couldn’t be missed when she looked back. “You must be crazy. I look like shit.”
He gave her a smile as warm as the tea. “I’m good at seeing the possibilities in a hand.” When he rose, he smoothed a hand down her hair. “And I’m looking forward to seeing you when you’ve brushed your hair. I’ll leave you now.”
“I’m sick,” she explained, wishing she had a hoodie sweatshirt on so she could flip it over her wild hair.
“You won’t always be.” He leaned down until their heads were close together.
“Everyone’s calling you a hero for helping Keith yesterday,” she said, testing him.
“I did what anyone else would. Get better. I’ll see you soon.”
As he said his goodbyes, Keith made him sign his cast. The signature was as bold as the man. Maven winked as he passed her on his way out the door. She could only marvel at the change in the room. Keith was happier. And she didn’t feel like she’d swallowed a block of ice.
Things were getting weirder and weirder. Part of her couldn’t wait to get better. She’d show him.
Brush her hair, indeed.