CHAPTER EIGHT
Of all the ways Jake wanted to see Maggie—naked, nearly naked, on the brink of being absolutely totally naked—walking toward him with a baby on her shoulder wasn’t one of them. Babies were tiny attention hogs. They were nothing more than unpleasant reminders of what happened if you weren’t careful.
But judging from the dreamy smile he’d seen on her face, Maggie actually liked the thing—which, Jake reminded himself, was exactly what Mason had warned him about.
If he’d listened. Which he hadn’t.
Then there was the big swinging dick walking next to her. Was he in charge of the ankle biters? This whole situation was starting to piss Jake off. He hated not knowing all the players in the game. And his instincts were buzzing, telling him the wannabe-cowboy had his eye on Maggie.
The problem with wanting a quality woman like Maggie, he reminded himself, was that everyone else wanted her, too. But he’d win in the end. He always won.
Saddle up, ass clown. You’re about to take the master class.
“Jake!” Maggie said, flushing. “You’re the last person I expected to see today.”
She stared up at him in obvious confusion, but he knew she could feel their chemistry simmering. It was powerful enough to knock the birds out of the trees. And it hadn’t given him a minute’s peace for two fucking weeks. Even here, even with that baby barnacle attached to her, the urge to kiss her made his hands sweat.
“I’ve got a few projects I’m working on,” Jake said with his businessman’s instinct for playing it close to the vest. He let his gaze shift to the Garth Brooks impersonator who jerked up his chin a little. What, no handshake?
“Oh, I’m sorry, this is Todd,” Maggie said. “He’s an old friend of mine.”
Judging by the surprised look on the cowboy’s face, Todd had a different way of framing their relationship. The eyes beneath the cowboy hat studied Jake and took his measure.
Maggie patted the baby’s back. “This little one is Abigail, and that’s her big brother, Sawyer.”
Sawyer gazed up at him. Jake had a vague memory of being that age. Everything was taller than you were—people, counters, chairs. He seemed to recall being pretty pissed off about it and bristling with revenge scenarios he planned to enact when he got bigger.
Jake stepped back to introduce his own group. “You remember Richard from the wedding.”
Richard put his hand out and Maggie took it. “Ma’am,” he said. “It was a fine wedding. Please send my regards to your sister and Mason for inviting me.”
“This is Carmen de Boers, who works with me in Dallas,” Jake said. “Carmen, this is Maggie.”
Carmen shook her hand, one quick pump, and then stood with the clipboard clasped against her chest. If Jake hadn’t known better, he would have said the temperature just dropped sixty degrees.
Well, wasn’t that interesting.
“Hey, Maggie,” Chuck said with a cheerful wave.
Jake had forgotten Chuck existed. Never good when you were planning to do business with someone.
“Oh, and hi to you, too, Todd,” Chuck added. “Heck, I didn’t know you were in town.”
“Yep, I’m back.” Todd threw Jake a self-satisfied smile, which reminded Jake of pretty much every asshole he grew up with in east Texas.
“So is the Regal going to be one of your new projects?” Maggie peeked inside the theater. “Chuck, since you’ve got the place open, do you mind if I go in and take a look? I haven’t been inside the Regal since I was a little girl.”
Chuck seemed all too happy to indulge Maggie, probably because he clearly had a crush on her, too. Everyone went back inside. Jake followed Todd, noticing the dusty cowboy boots and ropey muscles that went with his tall, lanky frame. Todd practically had the words “rodeo clown” stamped on his forehead. Guys like him loved the rodeo. Lots of spirited little fillies there waiting for the Todds of this world to just ride them into the dirt.
Jake left everyone chatting in the lobby and wasted no time catching up with Maggie. The baby had its cheek smushed on her shoulder and its eyes closed. He had to make mental adjustments because it was there, right there, snoring like an asthmatic pug.
Maggie took in the ceiling, the walls, the termite-eaten projection booth, all with a wistful expression on her face. “I remember being here,” she said softly. “My mom took me and Cassidy to see The Babysitter’s Club. I wouldn’t stop begging her to let me babysit after that.”
“How old were you?” Jake asked, amused.
“Five. It didn’t matter. I just knew I was ready.”
Jake studied her out of the corner of his eye. The kid was throwing him off a little. He wished she would give it back to whoever owned it. Todd, probably.
“Well, you’re certainly babysitting now,” he said, gamely shoring up his smile.
Maggie stroked the baby’s back, gentle strokes that drew Jake’s attention to her hands. He hadn’t noticed them before. They were long and delicate, the nails done in a pink shade that reminded him of the inside of a shell. Or a woman. It wasn’t like him to notice a woman’s hands, not when there were so many other interesting things to look at.
“So are you really going to buy the Regal?” she asked, turning to face him.
He loved her lips. It was hard not to stare. Jake lost the thread of the conversation for a moment. “I’m thinking about it.”
“Wait, you’re not going to gut the place and turn it into a mini-mall or something, are you?”
She looked so horrified, he was almost tempted to pull her leg. “I want to restore the Regal, not destroy her,” he said.
Maggie’s long-lashed eyes met his and something warm and alive stirred inside him. They were the color of brandy and showed everything she was thinking. She had the kind of criminally generous mouth any man might be tempted to run the tip of his tongue over. The kind of mouth that sent heat rushing to his groin when he thought what she might do with it.
Knowing his hands were anywhere near her breasts made this craving for her yo-yo around in his stomach. It had no place to go. He shoved those hands in his pockets and forced himself to think about something else. Anything else. Quarterly tax statements.
But he found his gaze wandering openly to her lips again, her pink, soft, irresistible lips, and wondered if they resembled her other secret pair. He suddenly found himself dying to taste them. He imagined exploring her with his tongue, relishing the tangy sweetness, the heat and the salt. He imagined feeling her quiver beneath his single-minded dedication to her pleasure, the way her warm, silky thighs might clench and unclench when he sent her flying.
All men had their talents. He knew what his were.
Jesus. What were they talking about again?
“When I was a kid, I just didn’t know enough to appreciate places like the Regal,” Maggie was saying. “I mean, look at those gold medallions above the stage. While other people were going to ugly mall theaters, we had this marvelous old movie palace.”
Jake glanced up at the ornate gold medallions, badly tarnished now, and saw nothing but months of work ahead. Here in Cuervo. Around the corner from Maggie’s bakery.
Funny how that work didn’t seem to bother him now.
“I guess TV killed these beautiful old two-thousand seaters, didn’t it?” Maggie mused. She drifted down the aisle and he followed, trying to keep his eyes off the baby, sure, but also failing to keep his eyes off her ass. Craving spiked his body temperature a few hundred degrees. He wanted to skim his hands along her hips, to grip the firm, supple weight of her backside. He wanted to brush his fingers across the crotch of her panties and find her hot. Wet. Ready. He wanted to drink her moans like a man might drink tequila and drown.
Jake knew he was used to getting his own way. He never had to wait long or even work that hard to obtain what he wanted. But now it felt as though he were standing inside Maggie’s bakery, eye-balling all the treats he’d been salivating over but couldn’t eat because she kept them behind a thick wall of glass. He was used to being in the power seat, to always having the upper hand.
“I heard there might have been a few after-hours burlesque shows here in the fifties,” Maggie said. “With the big poofy fans and the tassels and everything.”
“I’m surprised the town pastors didn’t put a stop to it,” Jake replied, pausing to picture women onstage and realizing in his imagination they all looked like Maggie.
“Oh, I’m sure they did. Everyone’s big with the moral code here in Cuervo.” She seemed disappointed. “One whiff of sin and the whole place goes nuts. Last year Mrs. Hayes, the librarian, had a ‘thing’ going with Andrew Pachella, who’s twenty years her junior. You would have thought the world was coming to an end.”
Jake wondered how Maggie defined the word ‘sin.’ He wanted to bring her down, down, down to where he lived in this hell-state of agony and desire. The exhilaration reminded him of hang gliding, of pushing off a cliff with nothing but the wind and the glider to steer him. Below his dangling feet, the ocean churned and the mountains loomed dangerously. Death itself sat on his shoulder. But then his fear would lessen. He would relax and look around. All of life was like that if you let it be.
Maybe it wasn’t so important that he be in control all the time. He doubted it, but it was possible.
Yet as surprising as the ferocity of his need for her, he liked talking to Maggie when she wasn’t trying to run away from him. He liked how she took an interest in things other than herself, how she asked questions, how she displayed a nostalgic streak that might even rival his own.
It was all new territory for a guy who was used to having his eyes glaze over every time he went on a date with a starlet.
Then Todd came sauntering down the aisle with the kid in tow. Jake could see Richard and Carmen’s blank stares as they listened to Chuck yammer on in the lobby and wished the guy had just banished everyone from the theater while he’d still had the chance.
“Well, you got your work cut out for you,” Todd drawled, obviously pleased at the thought. “You can bet the plumbing’s shot. The whole electrical system’s gotta be overhauled. It’s gonna take a thick wad of cash to fix it up again.” A sly, knowing grin appeared on his face. “Don’t imagine that’s a problem for you though, is it?”
Jake didn’t like talking about money in front of strangers. He especially didn’t like talking about it in front of Todd. Money made people act differently—quick to laugh, quick to agree, quick to sell you on the idea that you were right all the time.
“I think we’re getting way ahead of ourselves,” Jake said evenly.
Todd pushed up the brim of his cowboy hat. “Must be fun to come to a town like Cuervo and start rearrangin’ things to your liking.”
“Todd, that’s not fair,” Maggie said.
Jake crossed his arms. It was just as well he did. Oh, how he wanted to land a right hook on that mouthy motherfucker’s face. He could feel the anger firing through his muscles, pushing him to do something stupid. With supreme effort, he shoved it down again. A shame, really, because he liked punching. Where he came from, disputes were settled with fists—from cheating at poker to wolf-whistling at someone’s girl.
“My mistake,” Todd said. “I got a big mouth.” He gazed down at Maggie with an expression that Jake could only describe as calculating, which surprised him because he wouldn’t have guessed Todd could think that hard. Todd took the baby from her; it looked even smaller on his chest. “I’d best be getting on then, Mags. Mama’s got an early supper waitin’ on us.”
“Interesting guy,” Jake said as Todd walked his kids up toward the lobby.
“Not really.” Maggie smiled up at him apologetically. “I’d better get back to the bakery. I can’t leave my sister there too long. She loses her mind when someone asks her to work the coffee machine.”
Jake fought against disappointment. It was as though all the magic had left the room.
“But will you…you will come back, won’t you?” she asked. “To Cuervo?”
Their eyes met and there it was again, the heat that raced over his skin. He didn’t even question whether it was good or bad anymore. When he was around Maggie, the sensation of need swamped him like high tide taking over a sandbar. The more he saw of her, the more he wanted to see of her. That was something that had never ever happened to him outside of a bedroom.
Richard was heading down the aisle toward them with Carmen right behind him. If Jake wanted to seal this deal with Maggie, he would have to work fast.
“When I come back to Cuervo, we’re going to dinner,” he said, taking the risk because risks were something he always took. “I’m going to send you the dress I want you to wear, and you’re going to say yes.”
Her hand flew up and her fingers touched her parted lips. Her eyes were wide with shock. But they weren’t alone now and he knew she wouldn’t dare argue with him in front of others.
He’d won.
It was everything he could do not to rub his hands together in satisfied glee.
* * * *
“Where’s the baby?” April asked when Maggie walked back into the bakery. “You didn’t steal her, did you?”
Maggie couldn’t say anything. She had eight million emotions happening all at once. Her insides felt as though wild horses had trampled her with hoofs. Louder than horses even, she could still hear the sound of her own voice when she’d said yes to Jake.
April took one look at her face and her eyes went wide. “Is something wrong?”
Priscilla’s seat was empty—no magazines, no coffee cups. “Did Mom leave already?”
“She had a meeting at the Ladies Auxiliary. Listen, are you okay? Because you don’t look okay. You look—”
“Like I could jerk a knot in somebody’s tail?”
April nodded. As though it might make things better somehow, she untied the apron and handed it back to her. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“No. Yes. Oh, I don’t know.” Maggie looked around desperately for something to do. Maybe something that required punching. Yeah, punching would be good. Or chopping with a really sharp knife.
The bell above the door tinkled, which made her jump. She looked up, tensing to see who it might be, but it was only Mrs. Costello, who always came in to buy half a dozen chocolate éclairs for her Saturday afternoon bridge club.
Maggie said to April, “Can you wait on Mrs. Costello? I want to get the bread started.”
While April went out front, Maggie went on a mini-rampage for ingredients. She threw flour, yeast, sugar and a pinch of salt into a mixing bowl. Then she put the kettle on to heat water.
Her stomach was in knots. She put her hand there to loosen the knots, but it wasn’t helping. How would she make sense of anything she did today? From letting Todd set foot inside her bakery, to taking a walk with him, to not raking her fingernails down his face?
To saying yes to a date with the most dangerous man alive.
She poured olive oil into the bowl and then recapped the bottle with a savage twist. Todd had used the element of surprise to fool her. He hadn’t given her a chance to remember how much she hated him before he started blackmailing her with his adorable kids.
But that wasn’t even the worst of it. Maggie squirted soap into her palm and then plunged her hands into too-hot water at the sink. No, the worst of it was how turned on she’d been when she saw Jake standing outside the Regal, all handsome with his shirt sleeves rolled up and his collar open and his Paul Newman eyes. She’d actually felt a little dizzy. Gone was any rational thought. Desire for him went skyrocketing through her veins, scorching her from the inside out. Leading to yes when what she should have been shouting was no, no, no.
All the pies she’d baked this morning, all the times she caught herself thinking about him and promised to stop…it all meant nothing. Did she have no self-control anymore? This was undignified. Wanting Jake so badly only proved how much she hadn’t learned her lesson the first time. Who offered to buy a woman a dress and then take her on a date? This wasn’t Pretty Woman. Did he think she was for sale?
Then she’d set eyes on Carmen de What’s-Her-Name. Didn’t Jake know any unattractive women? Carmen looked as though she could take Jake on—tough, no-nonsense. Maybe he needed someone hard like that, someone who wouldn’t break. Maggie had surrounded herself with soft, sweet things like pastries and sisters and dogs. What if she and Jake just weren’t right for each other?
“Okay, so what on earth’s going on?” April said after Mrs. Costello left, carrying a pink bakery box. April dragged over a three-legged stool and perched on it, her social worker’s “listening face” at the ready.
Maggie stalled for time by pouring warm water from the kettle into her bread mix. Maybe she could talk about Jake without actually admitting that she’d agreed to go out with him.
“First tell me what Mom said after I left.” Maggie knew it had to have been ugly. Nobody hated Todd like Priscilla hated Todd. It was hard to remember that she’d been excited once about finally having a son in the family. She hadn’t liked Todd necessarily, but she’d liked that.
April’s face went bright pink. “She said Todd would never be a decent, respectable man until something bad happened to his…”
“Tires?”
“Pecker.” April whispered the word as though Maggie might not have been old enough to know what one was.
Maggie lifted the bread ball out of the bowl, sprinkled flour on it and started kneading. It was unnerving to realize how like flesh it was, how your hands naturally responded to something that felt warm and alive.
“Remember Jake from the wedding?” she asked, hoping if she told her, April wouldn’t make a big deal about it or read something into it that wasn’t there.
“Of course I do.”
Maggie bit her bottom lip. Everything inside her felt oddly electrified, which made it hard to get a handle on what she was saying. “I just ran into him outside.”
April looked surprised as she was. “What’s Jake doing in Cuervo?”
“Looking at property.” Maggie drifted more flour over the bread and then pressed down, feeling the warm dough ooze between her fingers. “He had that guy with him—Richard. You remember? And some woman.”
April crossed her legs. She braced both hands over one knee. “And there you were with your ex-husband and his two kids from your ex-best friend. You’re having a day, aren’t you?”
Maggie tried hard to find the humor in it, but mostly she felt confused. Every time she got around the guy, her inner navigational system went haywire. And she needed that system to guide her. If experience had taught her nothing, it was that being married to a cheater made you question your own judgment. It left you wondering if you could ever tell a good man from a bad one. She could remind herself a thousand times that her attraction to Jake Sutton didn’t mean anything, that he was an arrogant, over-privileged, womanizing bastard, but then he would do something, say something, and just make her head spin.
“Wait,” April said. “He’s looking at property? What’s there to buy around here?”
“The Regal. He might be interested in doing a restoration.” Maggie plopped the dough back in a bowl. She moistened a clean dish towel, draped it over the top and set the bread to rise in a warm corner near the stove. Too bad life wasn’t as clean and well-ordered as her bakery, she thought. Too bad problems couldn’t really be solved with chocolate.
April grinned like she knew something.
“What are you smiling about?” Maggie asked her, annoyed.
“Jake, of course. He asked you out, didn’t he?”
“What?” Maggie scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous.” Because he did ask you out…if you could call it that. And you said yes.
“Oh, c’mon, Maggie, admit it,” April said. “He’s not here for the Regal. He’s here for you.”