The Widow's Bachelor Bargain. Teresa Southwick
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“Well, then,” Josie said, her tone full of approval. “When?”
“Where?” Maureen asked. “Here? In the bedroom?”
“That’s not important,” Maggie protested.
“It kind of is,” her boarder said. “You know the only way this inquisition stops is when we get all the facts.”
“That’s not happening. And if you guys insist on pushing the issue, you’re going to miss out on the early-bird specials at the mall.”
“Come on, Maggie. I’m your mother. Put yourself in my shoes. What if Danielle wouldn’t tell you about something going on in her life?”
Maggie nearly knuckled. Her mom was really good at applying just the right amount of motivational guilt. But she held back.
“You are my mother and I love you.” She unstrapped Danielle from the high chair and lifted her out to toddle around the room. “But there really is nothing more than that to tell. He kissed me and we both realized it meant nothing.”
“Not from the ice age I’ve been living in,” Josie muttered. “Don’t be too hasty about this.”
“It’s not a rush to judgment. It’s reality. I’m a widow with a daughter to raise. He was in People magazine’s ‘most eligible millionaire bachelor’ issue. If that doesn’t make us incompatible enough, he has a playboy reputation. Love ’em and leave ’em.”
“But he’s so sweet with Danielle. Maybe he just hasn’t met the right woman yet,” Josie suggested.
“He’s met dozens of women, and if none of them were right it’s because he’s not interested in making a commitment.” Maggie looked at both women and sighed. “He’s a nice man. And he seems good with children. But a good deal of evidence points to the fact that he’s all flirt and no depth.”
“Are you sure you’re not just projecting that on him? Stereotyping him so he’s not a threat?” her mom asked.
“I’m not labeling him that way. Magazines and newspapers have reported on his activities. It’s all flash and no substance. A game. I’m too busy for games. So it’s best if we avoid each other.”
“But—”
“No, Mom. No buts. I’m a mother and a businesswoman. There’s no room in my life for a man. Especially one like Sloan Holden.”
She grabbed up her daughter and whisked her into the other room for a diaper change before the two older women could gang up on her again. It was for the best that she steer clear of Sloan, and thank goodness he was avoiding her, too.
* * *
Nearly a week after Sloan had kissed Maggie, he was pretty sure he was losing his mind. Up until that complete and utter failure of judgment when he’d touched his mouth to hers and found out she tasted even more amazing than he’d imagined, his business focus had been notorious, in a good way. His cousin had said more than once that he was like a computer, all circuits firing, efficiency central.
It had all changed after that kiss under the stars.
In the past couple of days he’d forgotten meetings, and in the ones he’d attended, his mind had wandered to the spectacular way Maggie’s backside filled out a pair of jeans when she bent over the oven to pull out a pan of blueberry muffins. Then first thing this morning, his assistant had asked him for the quarterly reports he’d brought home last night to look over. And he had looked them over. Corrections were all neatly marked and initialed. But it didn’t do her any good because he’d left the B and B without his briefcase that morning.
He’d been in a hurry to get out of there before someone noticed he was staring at Maggie. Couldn’t seem to keep himself from looking at her when there were more muffins and bending over. Yeah, he was going to hell.
But first he had to go back and retrieve the briefcase full of work that his assistant needed. It was midmorning and he figured Josie was volunteering as usual at the library and Maggie was at the café by now. The coast would be clear and he was in his car and nearly there.
He turned right off the main road and followed the narrow street to the end, where the log home that was Potter House stood. In the semicircular driveway he saw her dark blue SUV with the tailgate open and the cargo area filled with grocery bags. Maggie was leaning into the rear passenger seat, filling out those jeans almost as nicely as when she took something out of the oven.
So much for the coast being clear.
He groaned and wondered what he’d done to tick off fate and what he could do to turn around his bad luck. In his opinion, the best option was to pretend nothing had happened. Just the way Maggie was doing.
He opened his car door and got out, prepared to say hello and pretend, for all he was worth, that the kiss had been no big deal and everything was normal. That was when he heard the high-pitched wails coming from the rear seat of her car.
“Come on, Danielle. Mommy doesn’t have time for this. I have to unload the groceries. Food is melting.”
The quietly spoken, utterly reasonable words had no effect on the completely unreasonable toddler, and the screaming continued. Sloan wanted to retrieve his briefcase and go back to his office. None of this was his problem. But he couldn’t do it.
“Hi, Maggie,” he said, walking up to the open tailgate. “I’ll get those bags.”
She straightened and met his gaze, a puzzled expression on her face. “Aren’t you supposed to be at work? What are you doing here?”
And wasn’t that the million-dollar question. Telling the truth was best. He didn’t have to get into all of it. “I left some paperwork here and my assistant needs it today.”
“Then, you should get it to her.” Maggie’s voice got a little louder in order to be heard above the wailing coming from the backseat of her car. “I’ve got this.”
Not from where he was standing. “I’m sure you do, but since I’m here, it will just take a couple of minutes to get the groceries into the house. I’ll do that while you take care of Shorty.”
The look of stubborn independence on her face said she was going to push back. While he admired her character, arguing was a waste of breath. He was stubborn, too, and in the time it would take for a conversation, he could have all the groceries in the kitchen.
Without a word, he reached into the cargo area of the SUV and took as many bags as he could carry.
“Hold on,” she said, racing past him and up the stairs to the front door. “I’ll unlock it.”
“Thanks,” he said, moving past her.
“No. Thank you.” And then she went back to the car and liberated her daughter from the car seat.
Sloan passed her in the living room on his way out for a second trip. Maggie had her child in one arm and a bag in the other. She tried to put the little girl down, but the toddler pulled her legs up, refusing to stand. And she was crying her eyes out. At that