MAGGIE

“Earth to Maggie,” Emily says, waving a slip of paper in front of me. “Do you need this?”

“What?”

“I just explained.” Emily stares at me as if I’m some strange form of alien. “Halloween party invitation. Claire’s. You agreed to go with me—ringing any bells?”

“Oh, no, I don’t need it.” I sit back in my chair behind the reception desk while Emily and I wait for Luca to arrive. Mila’s doing her homework in the kitchen with Jax peeping over her shoulder to assist, and I’ve been lost in daydreams for the past...hour? Two hours? Who knows.

“Are you happy or sad?” Emily presses. “Help me out a little.”

“I’m...”

“You’re catatonic is what you are. The last time I saw you like this...” She pauses. “You didn’t start that weird diet and workout thing again, did you?”

“No!”

“You were so tired and hungry you could barely talk. A lot like today.”

“It’s not that.”

My shy smile must give me away because Emily claps her hands to her cheeks and inhales. “Oh, shit—I was wrong. It happened!”

“What are you talking about?”

She gives me shifty eyes. “Don’t get mad. Luca and I had a little bet going—”

“You bet on me?!”

“A friendly little wager.” She frowns. “I lost. I thought you’d hold off for at least a month before having sex with Tyler.”

“I didn’t!” I respond too loudly, too quickly. “I didn’t really.”

“What does that mean?”

“Okay, we did a little bit.”

“What does a little bit of sex look like?”

With an intently muted voice, I tell Emily the broad scope of the afternoon events. I leave a lot to her imagination, but she gets the gist of it. By the time I finish recounting my tale, her eyes are wide and disbelieving.

“Okay,” she says, suspicious. “You didn’t tell me everything; what’s wrong?”

“He said he loves me.”

“Oh, Maggie.” Emily’s face creases in concern.

“Thanks.”

Emily searches for the right words. “Look, I’m going to be frank with you. I think letting yourself have a little fun is a good thing. I’ve been encouraging you to date for years. And I know Tyler cares about you, which was why I was—and am—excited for you. But what is he doing? Is he going to stay around?”

“So he says.”

“Do you believe him?”

I consider this, consider the depth of Tyler’s eyes as he stared into mine and said it with unfailing certainty. Before I can verbally respond, Emily sees the answer in my eyes.

“He might love you,” she says. “But what is he doing in town? Does he want his home to be in New York? Does he want to stay here—how will he run his business from here? Would you go with him if he asked...again?”

“I don’t know!” I stand and grab a box of dry towels that need to be scented lavender and warmed. “Anyway, how do you know so much about him?”

“Research.” She shrugs. “I don’t know the details, but I know he does something with real estate. I’m assuming that’s why he’s in town.”

“He told me all about it,” I mutter. “They’re thinking of building, but nothing is final yet.”

“If you ask him not to put a hotel around here, do you think he’ll listen?”

I hesitate. “I don’t know.”

“Because that would suck if he put a hotel across the street.”

“We could hold our own!” I argue, knowing I might be naive. Tyler Daniels comes with a lot of money, and a lot of money can build a very nice hotel. “Have a little confidence in us!”

“I’m just saying—it makes me nervous having him around here.”

“I have faith in the Lilac Inn; if Tyler chooses to put up some fancy hotel around here—we’ll be fine. Let him try.”

“I think you’re just being stubborn. Tyler Daniels did not get where he is in business by making emotional decisions. He isn’t going to make a decision with his heart. And you know this inn is barely making enough as it is. If our revenue drops at all, we’re sunk. We will not survive a hotel being built here.”

I hoist the towels up higher. “I have to get these ready to go out.”

“Take your time,” Emily says with a sigh. “I’ll put Mila to bed tonight. She’s been begging for a sleepover.”

“I’m just going to talk to him.”

“Sure.” She raises her eyebrows, skeptical. “While you’re up there, just remember why he’s really here; he’s trying to ruin your business. Does that sound like true love to you?”

***

BY THE TIME I’VE DELIVERED all of the towels and find myself outside of Tyler’s door, I’m a literal and figurative mess. My nerves have continued all afternoon, and I’ve been fumbling things left and right. My sleeve is still damp, thanks to an unfortunate mishap with the towels.

After we’d parted ways earlier this afternoon, I’d prepared dinner for Mila, helped with a little schoolwork, and managed the front desk with Emily. I’m hoping my clothing choice will signal to Tyler that I’m here on official business tonight—nothing more.

As I raise a hand to knock on the door, I pray to the clothing gods that Tyler Daniels opens the door fully dressed. Despite my resolve, I’m not sure what I’ll do if he opens the door with no shirt.

I needn’t have worried. The door flies open before I can knock. Tyler’s there, thankfully in a shirt and sweatpants, though this isn’t as much relief as I thought. The memory of what’s underneath is vibrant in my mind, ripe with possibility, and the fitted T-shirt shows off every one of those muscles that carried me away earlier this afternoon.

“Margaret?” he asks, surprised. “I was—”

“Sorry, I can come back later,” I say quickly. “Or not at all. I was just coming around with the towels, and—”

“I was coming to look for you.” He grins and raises an eyebrow. “Guess this is fate.”

“Something like that,” I mutter, extending a towel toward him. “Here you go.”

Tyler glances behind him, probably ensuring Jessica is out of hearing range, before he steps through and closes the door all but a crack behind him. “What’s wrong?”

“Wrong? Nothing.”

“You’re acting weird.”

“Weird? No, I’m not.”

“You’re all stiff, and...” He reaches his hands out and rests them on my shoulder, to which I flinch. A frown quirks his lips downward. “Is this about this afternoon? I thought you...” he glances around, lowering his voice further. “Didn’t you enjoy it?”

“Yes, of course I did,” I say, my face reddening. “A lot. I just, I thought maybe we could talk about that, actually, if you’re feeling up for it.”

“Come inside.” A smile brightens his face as he swings the door open. “But I need to ask a favor of you first.”

“What is it?”

“Jess?” he calls. “Maggie’s here to help.”

The poor girl waddles out of her bedroom, her face a mask of disappointment and embarrassment. At once, I see why I’ve been summoned.

“Oh, you poor thing.” I drop the towels and rush across the room to disentangle her from the dress we picked out at the mall together. “Here, can you bend forward? Shift that way, honey—you’ve got your head through an armhole.”

It takes several minutes before the dress is sitting prettily on Jessica’s shoulders, as it should.

“There,” I exclaim, stepping back. “Does that feel better?”

“I volunteered to cut it off of her,” Tyler adds unhelpfully, “but she said no.”

“Why would you cut it off?” I ask. “It’s a new dress. Come here, Jess, let me show you how it works.”

I take Jessica into her bedroom and gently explain the easiest way to climb into the thing. She practices twice more, finally beaming when she wriggles in and out of it easily.

“Perfect,” I exclaim. “And you look darling in it.”

“I’m going to wear it for school pictures,” she says shyly. “I really like it. Thank you.”

“Of course. Anytime you want to go, let us know. We love to shop.”

“Do you mean it?”

“Absolutely! Do you need help slipping out of the dress?”

Jess shakes her head, and I turn to leave. Before I take a step, my eyes land on a book at her bedside. “Are you reading The Boxcar Children?”

She nods. “By myself. Mila tells me you read to her at night, but my dad...”

I move over to the nightstand and pick up the book gingerly. “I love these stories. It’s been years and years since I read one, decades, probably. I don’t know how I forgot to get them for Mila.”

“She can borrow them when I’m done,” Jessica offers nobly. But it’s with excitement that she joins me at the bedside table and continues. “Do you want to read some tonight? You could read to me, if you want.”

“Maybe one chapter,” I say, skimming through the pages. I catch a glimpse of the excitement in her gaze. “That sounds like fun.”

We settle in, the scene distinctly familiar, yet also foreign. I’m used to reading to Mila before bed; I’m used to the way she smells, like baby powder and lavender lotion. I’m used to the way Mila claps her hands with giddy excitement or screams at the text when things don’t go her way. I’m used to my daughter.

I’m not used to the soft strawberry scent of Jessica’s shampoo, or the way her clever eyes follow along as I’m reading, thoughtful on every page. I’m not used to the quiet pleading for one more chapter, nor am I used to the easy sound of her breathing as she drifts off to sleep midway through it.

I’m used to Mila, but as I stand and pull the covers to Jessica’s face, I’m drawn to the similarities between them. The soft curve of their smiles as they rest, their peaceful foreheads as they dream. I can’t help but brush a kiss against her hair as I stand and tuck her in, watching for a moment longer before I turn and flick off the light.

The movement from the doorway startles me, sending my pulse off to the races as I clasp a hand to my heart. “You scared me. How long have you been there?”

Tyler doesn’t respond until he closes the door firmly behind me. Even then, his response isn’t a verbal one. It’s a dark, brooding look in his eyes, and I can’t tell if he’s angry and upset, or merely confused.

“Long enough,” he finally answers, and that’s it.

That’s all I get from him, but I sense there’s more. An underlying message he’s trying to get across to me—one I can’t yet comprehend. I lean in closer, asking silently for more.

He takes me then, hard against his chest, and crashes his lips against mine. Before I know it, we’re tumbling through the rooms. We bump against the kitchen counter and Tyler reaches out, just barely catching a chair before it clatters to the floor. He sets it right, and our bumbling journey continues as he holds me against him.

He doesn’t need to speak. I can understand in his silence that, unlike this afternoon, it’s his turn to demand. His turn to take, to need, to want. I’m surprised to find that I want this just as much as he does.

There’s something so raw in the way he looks at me that I can feel his hurts. There’s a pain somewhere inside of him that I long to wash away, clearing room for the bright smile that I’m falling in love with all over again.

He closes and locks the bedroom door behind us, still grasping for me. I like being needed so much. Tyler’s desperate, helpless, and it gives me a surge of power that I don’t take lightly.

When he wraps me in an embrace, his breath is so ragged he can hardly speak.

My arms wind around his neck and my legs around his waist as he carries me across the room and spreads me on the bed. The moonlight spills through and turns the room a shade of silver that’s ethereal.

“You didn’t have to do that,” he says, pushing hair out of my face, his eyes admiring the way it drifts across the pillow. “I didn’t call you over here to put my daughter to bed.”

“I’m sorry if I overstepped—she just asked for a chapter, and I couldn’t say no.”

He swallows, his throat moving with the effort. Once again, he struggles to speak, opening his mouth once, then twice, before he shakes his head and pulls off his shirt. It takes seconds before it reaches the floor, and mine follows a minute later.

When he takes me into his arms and curls us together, however, I’m surprised. He pulls me tight to him, spooning, my back to his hard, strong chest. I can feel his erection pressing into me from behind through my yoga pants and his sweats, but he doesn’t seem intent to do anything but lie here in wait.

“What’s wrong?” I finally ask. “Tyler, you seem—”

“This is what she’s been missing. I knew it, I fucking knew it, and yet I didn’t do a thing about it.”

“What are you talking about?”

“A mother, dammit.” Tyler’s breath is hot against my neck. “I told Anastasia that my raising her alone wouldn’t be enough. Jessica needs a woman, a role model; someone to help with the things that I don’t understand. A mother,” he repeats. “I should’ve...I should’ve done something differently.”

It’s difficult, but I worm around so I’m facing him. We’re chest to chest now, but he can’t seem to make eye contact with me. “It’s not your fault, Tyler. You tried, I know you tried your best. And Jessica is fine; she’s tough, she’s a wonderful girl, and you are an incredible father. You can only do your best.”

“My best isn’t good enough. You were there; you saw everything.” He runs a hand through his hair, staring at the ceiling. “She hasn’t been able to go to bed without me kissing her to sleep since—I don’t know, ever? I have to call her for a goodnight kiss if she ever sleeps over at a friend’s house. Then you come by, and suddenly...”

“It’s not like that.”

“You don’t understand.”

“Tyler,” I say, firm, but soft. “Please, listen. I do understand. Look at me, Ty.”

He starts to roll away from me, but I don’t let him go. I grab onto his arm, and he reacts, his fingers digging into the skin around my hips as he pulls me on top of him and our eyes lock.

Another time, I’d be so distracted by the fact that I was straddling Tyler Daniels that I would lose my train of thought, but this time I feel too strongly on the subject matter to let myself shy away from an argument.

“Look at Mila and myself,” I say, brushing a curl back from his forehead. “I am doing the best job I can to raise her. Believe me, I do understand—I’m a single parent, too.”

He sighs, holding me closer against him, his eyes closing briefly at the touch of my fingers against his forehead.

“But you don’t have to do this alone. I learned that the hard way. I use Emily, and Luca, and Jax for support. Claire gave me a job here—she didn’t have to, but she helped me. Once upon a time, I would’ve been too proud to take any sort of assistance. But for Mila’s sake, I had to realize that I couldn’t do it alone. It’s not perfect—but is anyone a perfect parent?”

“Mila’s father—”

“He wasn’t from the area, and he had no intention of meeting her. His parents live across the country and have never met her, either.”

“I didn’t know.”

“It doesn’t matter, but yes—Anastasia is absent, and that sucks for you, and it sucks more for Jess. All Mila has are the memories I tell her of her father,” I say. “Memories that I’ve completely fabricated. Lies that I have to live with because that little girl...” I stop, having to clutch at my chest before continuing. “Because my daughter doesn’t need to know that her father wouldn’t have been there for her anyway.”

Tyler’s jaw is hard set, and I can’t tell if any of this is sinking in, but I’m not giving up, yet.

“This isn’t a competition about who has it worse,” I tell him, forcing a tight smile. “We’ve all got problems—we’re human. But I won’t let you berate yourself for doing the best damn job that you can. It’s all we have—it’s all I have,” I say, not realizing the tears are streaming down my cheeks. “If we don’t have that, what do we have?”

Tyler crushes himself to me then, pulling me hard to his chest, his lips locking fast against mine. He spins us over, tugging my pants off at the same time he sheds his. The fury has hit me, too, and I unhook my bra while I tug down his boxers.

There’s a brutal rawness between us. The questions I came here to ask are all but a memory because, now, we need each other. We are all the other has.

As if Tyler reads my mind, he rests against me, both of us fully nude—the feel of his skin against mine more satisfying that I could’ve imagined. I could lie here like this all night.

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Tyler says, his husky voice startling me to attention as he rises on his arms and perches over me. He eases against me, his intentions clear as he waits for a sign that I want this, too.

“I’m wrong?” My fingers grip around his waist and pull him closer. “What do you mean, I’m wrong?”

He grits his teeth, pressing his length against my stomach, just slightly. I can hardly breathe—the motion, his eyes, his gaze, hold me captive. With a shudder, my fingers clench around him, and I attempt to press him into me, to take him—all of him. To forget this conversation and lose myself in him.

He resists, however, and he wins, holding back.

“You have me,” he whispers.

Then, after a long sigh, he presses gently into me, slowly, until I’m wrapped around him, and he’s resting his forehead against mine, and we’re entirely one.

The connection between us is instant and, I’m afraid, lasting. A sob rises in my throat as he pushes my hair from my forehead, peppering my skin with kisses.

“Don’t cry, sweetheart. I love you—am I hurting you?”

I shake my head, my vision blurred as I look up to find unmistakable emotion there. I struggle to return the feeling, but the words don’t yet come.

Tyler, as usual, senses my thoughts. “Don’t say a thing,” he says, beginning to move slowly. “Just be here for tonight.”

With a shaky breath, I nod. I exist here, fully focused on Tyler as he moves with painstaking caution, pushing and pulling as he brings us closer and closer together. I feel every inch of him with stark precision, and I sense every beat of his heart as we slip into a rhythm that’s uniquely ours.

As his fingers roam, caress, explore, my lips find his neck, his chest, his stomach.

The intensity grows, burgeons into an inexplicable sensation of utter warmth, a wild frenzy as he thrusts faster, quicker, driving us both into a blackness where the rest of the world ceases to exist. For now, there’s only us.

At the moment I burst, Tyler claims me with his mouth, drawing breath from my lips and pouring himself into me. We ride the last waves together, clutching onto the fingers of something that is rapidly fading away, even as Tyler eases off of me and pulls me to his chest.

He holds me, and I shudder. Silent tears have left the pillow wet, and yet we don’t move, don’t speak, don’t budge. All that remains is the flow of our breaths and the beat of our hearts gently returning to normal.

It’s hours later when I rise quietly and dress in my clothes. Tyler watches, an invitation to stay on his lips, though he doesn’t ever voice it. Wordlessly, I leave the room, closing the door behind me. I close the front door, too, pausing with a hand on the knob before slipping down the hallway.

Emily wakes as I open the door to my apartment. She shuffles from Mila’s room and surveys me—my wild hair, my red eyes, my disheveled clothing.

“Oh, honey,” she says, and I collapse in her arms.

“I don’t know...”

“Sweetie, go to him,” she says. “I’ll take care of everything here.”

I hadn’t known what I needed until Emily said it aloud. Then, with stark clarity, I realize she’d been right. With a nod and a grateful hug to my friend, I retrace my steps to the second floor. At the door, I pause, a hand on the knob.

Once again, it opens without my prompting. Tyler’s there, wearing only a pair of shorts, a ragged smile plastered on his lips. He takes my face between his hands, his palms so large, yet tender, and kisses me hard on the mouth.

Then, holding my hand, he leads me to bed. I slide in next to him and, still holding hands, we drift to sleep.