Can't Stop Loving You (29 page)

“And not think about tomorrow.”

“See, Brawley, that's where you and I differ. I can't operate that way. Tomorrow is always on my mind.”

“Actually, you might be surprised just how often I do think about tomorrow—with you.”

Oh, God. She couldn't speak. It was as if she'd taken a punch to the stomach.

“What? No smartass comeback, Red?”

She'd come back for him, hadn't she? To help him through this. “All right.”

“All right? All right what?” His expression grew wary.

“I'll have dinner with you.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

“How about I pick you up?”

“Fine.” She toyed with her necklace. “Where are we going?”

“It's a surprise. Dress casually. Jeans.”

“Okay.”

He waved and moved to the door. Hand on the knob, he said, “I'll be by at six. You're still at your folks?”

She nodded.

Without giving her a chance to say another word, he was out the door.

Ella stepped from the back room, a handful of bags tucked under her arm.

“Boy, don't you have good timing,” Maggie said.

“I don't know what you mean.”

“And you can say that with a straight face.” Maggie grinned. “You're a pro.”

“I've got two kids. It's a skill you have to learn.” Ella studied Maggie. “Brawley's a good man.”

Maggie bit her lip. “Yes, he is. But I can't afford to lose sight of my goals.”

“I don't think you need to worry about that. Be sure, though, to stay flexible.”

“Stay flexible? Would that be the same as keeping my options open?”

“Yes, I suppose it would. Why?”

Maggie shook her head. “My dad handed me that same piece of advice before I left for New York.”

“He's a wise man.” Ella stepped behind the counter to restock the bags.

“Not sure where you're going to put those,” Maggie muttered, “since I know you already stashed a new supply there this morning.”

The door opened. Spotting Maggie, her customers started talking at once, congratulating her and wanting to know if she had any of her new designs to show them.

As promised, Brawley showed up at six, right on the dot. From her parents' living room window, she watched him walk toward the house. Jeans, white with wear, hugged his lower body. A navy blue T-shirt highlighted his muscular torso and made her mouth water. Black boots, cowboy hat, and dark glasses finished a look certain to make any woman's heart do a happy dance.

Dressed in an old pair of jeans, a short-sleeve dark green T-shirt, and a pair of kick-around boots, she hurried out to meet him. No sense him and her dad getting into it.

Opening her arms wide, she asked, “This okay?”

“You look beautiful, Red.” He tugged at her ponytail. “A man could get lost in that body.”

Heat rushed through her as she remembered him doing exactly that in her New York apartment. She slid on a pair of oversized sunglasses as much in defense against Brawley as protection from the low sun.

He opened the door and helped her in.

“Still not telling me where we're going?”

“Not yet.”

“Hey, Marvin.” She leaned over the seat to rub the puppy's head. “How are you, boy?”

His entire body shook in ecstasy.

“Don't get him too excited. He'll pee all over the seat.”

Maggie laughed and turned around to hook her seat belt.

A country song played on his radio as they turned onto the highway. She lowered her window and rested an arm on it. Brawley did the same.

“The fresh air feels so good,” she said. “It seems I've been cooped up forever.”

About two miles outside of town, Brawley turned onto a small back road. Maggie narrowed her eyes. “This goes back by the lake.”

“Yes, it does.”

Rounding a curve, the lake came into view. A small hill led down to it. Brawley cut his wheels and started through the grass.

She let out a small squeak and gripped the door. “There's no road here!”

“No kidding, Sherlock.”

He drove straight to the lake's edge. A carpet of Texas wildflowers spread out around them. Mature live oaks clumped together near the lake and reflected in the water.

Without a word, she opened her door and got out. “Brawley, it's beautiful.”

He came to stand behind her, and she felt his heat. Then he put an arm around her waist and pulled her against him. Her breathing quickened.

Laying his head against hers, he said, “I love it here.”

A bird chirped high in one of the trees and was answered from a nearby oak. Marvin yapped from the car.

“Guess I'd better let the mutt out. He sure can't handle it by himself. Another reason a man should have a real dog.”

“Marvin's real.”

“Yeah, a real pain in the butt.”

“Thou dost protest too much, methinks.”

Brawley grunted. “You and your Shakespeare.” But he moved to the car to lift down the dog. Marvin scooted off through the flowers and, sticking his nose in one, started sneezing.

“Why'd you bring me here?”

“Beautiful lady. Beautiful scenery. I thought we could eat by the water.” He walked to the back of the SUV and grabbed a blanket and a picnic basket.

“I hope you brought lots of food because I'm ravenous.”

He chuckled. “That's one of the things I like about you, Mags. Some women won't eat around a man. Not you. You like your food, and you're not shy about it. It makes eating with you fun.”

“Well, let's get the fun started. What's in that basket, Little Red Riding Hood? Or are you the Big, Bad Wolf?”

“I'll let you decide.” He opened the lid and pulled out a bone. Tossing it to Marvin, he said, “That might keep him busy for a few minutes.”

“It's bigger than him.”

“Everything's bigger than him,” Brawley muttered. Next, he took out two plates, already made up. “If you're expecting caviar and champagne, I'm afraid you're gonna be disappointed. We have buffalo chicken wraps and tomato-basil pasta along with a bottle of sparkling water.”

“That sounds perfect. I'm too hungry for caviar.”

“I figured you'd say that.” He held up a bag of Dottie's cookies. “And these for dessert.”

He handed her a napkin.

“Cloth?”

“Yep. Only the best for you.” His hand dipped into the basket again, and he handed her a single yellow rose. “It made me think of you.”

She took it, their fingers touching. “Oh, Brawley. What am I supposed to do with you?”

His lips curved in a slow, sexy smile. “I've got a couple ideas.”

“I'll bet you do.” She laid the rose on the blanket beside her and uncovered her plate.

The water lapped on shore, the birds sang, and Marvin gnawed on his bone. Maggie hadn't been this much at peace in months.

Both of them tucked into their food.

“I've been thinking,” Brawley said.

“That could be dangerous.”

“Hah-hah. Seriously, Maverick Junction doesn't have any kind of animal shelter.”

“I know.” Marvin crawled onto her lap, and she ran her hands over him, driving him into a frenzy of pleasure. “This little guy really lucked out.”

Brawley shook his head. “He's not staying. I'm a temporary landing pad until we find him a home.”

“You are such a liar. Wild horses couldn't drag this guy from you, and you know it.”

He grinned. “Marvin does tend to get under your skin. Guess he's okay. For a runt.”

“It's in the breeding, Doctor Odell.”

“Speaking of…” He rolled toward her, placed his hand behind her neck, and pulled her in to him.

The first touch of his lips was electric. She moaned and slid her body closer still. Marvin, squashed between them, wiggled out and climbed over Brawley to find a safer spot for his post-dinner nap.

Brawley whispered, “Maggie, I want you.”

“Nothing has changed. All the problems we had before are still problems.”

“Is it the camera guy?”

“Jarvis?” She frowned. “No! It's you. It's me. It's the fact we live fifteen hundred miles apart.”

“And the fact I acted like an ass when I was nineteen years old.”

“That, too.”

He dropped onto his back on the blanket. “I don't know how else to tell you I'm sorry. To show you I mean it. I'd give anything to be able to go back and handle things differently. If I'd known, had any idea—”

“I know that, Brawley. I believe you.”

He raised his head to stare at her. “Does that mean you've forgiven me?”

She let out a long sigh. “I think so.”

“You think so? You don't know?”

“It's complicated.”

“Tell me about it.” His head thunked back to the ground. Then he reached for her hand and squeezed it. “I'm sorry about our baby, Mags. So sorry I wasn't there for you. That's a regret I'll take to my grave.”

When she said nothing, he cut his eyes to where she lay beside him. “Oh, Maggie, don't cry. Please don't cry.” He thumbed away the tears that trickled down her cheeks.

“Did I tell you our baby was a little boy?”

“Oh, God.” He shook his head. “No.”

One single word, but in it Maggie heard a world of pain. Of suffering.

“I would have loved our baby.” His voice cracked. “A little boy. A little girl. It would have made no difference.”

Her throat so tight she doubted she could speak, she simply ran her thumb along the back of his hand.

Twilight deepened around them as they lay side by side, holding hands. Marvin snored, and the cicadas began their nightly serenade. The moon began its slow climb into the evening sky.

“You said earlier you were thinking about something. I assume you wanted to run an idea by me.” Maggie spoke softly.

“Yeah, I did.” He licked his lips. “It's about an animal shelter. We've got all of Annie's leftovers from the apartment in storage. Ty said he and Sophie have a bunch of junk they'd like to get rid of. So do Cash and Annie, Rosie and Hank, Dottie and Fletch. My mom and dad said they'd do some cleaning out, too.”

“And?”

“One man's trash—”

“Is another man's treasure,” she finished.

“Yep. So I'm thinking we should hold a town yard sale. With the money we raise, we can start The Doc Gibson Animal Shelter. I found the perfect building for it, and I think we can get volunteers to run it.”

Maggie came up on one elbow. “I'm sure Sally and Ollie would both run a booth to sell drinks and food.”

He nodded. “I've already talked to Mel. He'll do the publicity for free.”

“I can put signs up in Lone Tree,” Maggie said. “I get customers from all over. I'm sure some of them would donate even if they can't participate.”

“I think we can do it.” His eyes met hers. “What do you say?”

“Yes, we can.”

“Does that bleed over into us, Mags? Can we possibly do it, too? Somehow mend this gigantic rift?”

“We can work on it.” She leaned over and kissed him.

He pulled her down on top of him, and she sighed at the feel of that hot, hard body beneath her.

“When are you leaving again?”

“I'm supposed to fly out Sunday morning.”

“Supposed to?”

She nodded. “I can't believe I'm saying this, but to be honest, I'm having second thoughts.”

“About what?”

“Living full-time in New York.” She sighed. “God's honest truth, it feels so good to get back in my jeans.”

His hand slid lower, worked its way beneath her waistband. “There was a time you wanted to get into my jeans, too.”

“Don't flatter yourself, Brawley. I was a naïve young girl and didn't know better.”

“What about our night in New York?”

She kissed him lightly. “That would have been an adult woman who probably
ought
to have known better but decided to go for it anyway.”

“I applaud your decision.”

“I'll bet you do. The thing is I love the city and all it has to offer. I really do. But this is home.”

“Yes, it is.” His lips found hers. “Kiss me, Maggie.”

And then she was lost in him. In his kisses, in his embrace. Celebrated that he undressed her slowly, relishing her the way he would an unexpected gift.

She undid his buttons, slid his shirt from him. A warm breeze wafted over them, caressing their bare skin.

He trailed kisses over her face, down her neck, over her body. Then she simply gave in to the pleasure that was Brawley, said a prayer of thanks when he cried out her name.

After, lying in Brawley's arms, her head on his chest, Maggie heard his heart thumping as wildly as her own. She shivered, and he pulled the edges of the blanket around them, held her tighter.

She smiled. Had she ever had such romance as he'd shown her today? When they'd made love, he'd savored her. Every inch of her. He'd made her feel as though she was the only woman in the world. The only woman he'd ever been with. The only man she'd ever been with.

With his kisses, his caresses, his demands, he'd erased their past. Electrified the present. Promised a future.

Exactly when she couldn't say, but she'd made her decision. She wouldn't be going back to New York. Not full time.

The city would be there next month, next year.

She could design here and travel back and forth when it was necessary. Tomorrow, she'd call Zandra.

That brass ring? Maybe it was right here in Maverick Junction.

D
reams didn't always equal reality.

Maggie had read enough biographies to understand life inside a house didn't always match what someone looking through a window saw.

Rock stars, princesses—their lives weren't always what they seemed. She only had to look as far as her friend. Annelise Montjoy Hardeman appeared to have had the perfect life before she met Cash. Not so.

Time to take the first step. Grabbing her phone and her courage, she dialed her grandfather before she could change her mind.

“Pops, I have a question, and you have to promise to be honest with me.”

“Okay,” he answered slowly.

“It's all right,” she assured him. “This won't hurt.”

“Good.”

“What are your short-term plans for your house?”

“The house?”

“Yes, Pops. The house.”

“Why?”

She took a deep breath and plunged in. “I'd like to stay there. For a while. Not permanently. I know you want to sell it, but—”

“Honey, of course you can stay there. What about New York, though?” Pops sounded confused. “Wasn't this just a quick trip home for Doc's funeral?”

“Yes, it was. I like New York, but I can do my designing from here and go to the city when I need to for business. Nothing says I have to live there.”

“I see.”

She laughed. “No, you don't. I'm not sure I do entirely. I'll fill you in on everything later. Before I did anything drastic, though, I wanted to make sure I had a place to stay.”

“Your parents would love to have you with them.”

“I need to be on my own, Pops.”

“Figured you'd say that. The house is yours as long as you want. Love you, honey.”

“Love you, too.” She hung up and dialed Zandra.

With any luck, her assistant could put her in touch with a Realtor to sublet her apartment.

When Zandra answered, Maggie spent some time catching up with everything that had happened since she'd left, the orders that continued to pour in, and her plans for the next line.

“Jarvis called.”

Maggie grimaced. “He did?”

“Uh-huh. I told him about your friend. That you'd gone home for the funeral.”

“Thank you, Zandra.”

“He might call, so I thought I'd give you a heads-up. If I'm reading things right, you've got your eye elsewhere.”

Maggie made a small sound of agreement. “And that brings me to the real reason for this phone call.”

She steadied herself. She shouldn't be so nervous about this. She was, after all, her own boss. She made her own decisions.

Right. And this decision could bring about the collapse of everything she'd worked for. How would Owen feel about her staying in Texas?

Did it matter?

Yes. He'd provided her a huge break. Instead of starting at the bottom of the ladder, Owen had made the climb much less steep. If she did this, would he think her unappreciative and withdraw his support?

The show had been uber-successful, but that guaranteed nothing.

So which could she live without? Career or family?

Oh, boy. She hoped it wouldn't come down to that, that she wouldn't have to make a choice. She could do it all. She knew she could.

“What do you know about subletting apartments?”

After a few seconds of silence, Zandra answered. “Quite a lot, actually. I'm subletting right now—and hunting for a new place. My lease is up at the end of the month.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes, and places are hard to find. Why?”

Now or never. Maggie leaped off the cliff. “Because I don't want to live in New York year-round.”

Silence met her words.

“Zandra?”

“I thought you liked it here.”

“I do.”

“But you're happier in Texas.”

“Yes, I am. That doesn't mean I'm giving up designing,” she said quickly. “I can design here and fly to New York for the work-ups and shows.”

“Are you sure about this?”

“Oh, boy.” She huffed out a breath. “I think so.”

“You think, or you know?”

“I know.”

“It's a big step, Maggie. Have you talked to Owen?”

“No. Not yet. He's my next call.” When she didn't get any response, she asked, “Zandra? Are you still there?”

“Just thinking, weighing things. I doubt Owen will have a problem with this. He wants your creativity, your fantastic designs, regardless of where you put them together.”

“I sure hope you're right.” She nibbled her lip. “What's your best suggestion for handling the apartment?”

“I'll take over the lease. When you come into the city, you can stay with me. In the extra bedroom.”

“Really?”

“I love that apartment. It's a win-win.”

“Tell me about it.” She hesitated. “Are you sure about this?”

“Probably more than you are. I'll let you play with the whole idea a bit more before we make a final decision.”

The memory of Brawley at the lake the night before ambushed her. Brawley holding her in New York while she cried for their baby. Brawley mourning his friend.

He'd been more than clear that he wanted her. The question was for how long. Did he want her for a night or two, a month, or forever? Did
she
want
him
forever?

Absolutely. She always had and always would. He'd crushed her before, ground her heart beneath his boot heel. But it hadn't been intentional. Careless? Totally. Immature? Without a doubt. And a long time ago.

He was right about that. He was no longer the boy who had done that. He was a man, a man who kept his word. Who took his responsibilities to heart. She could only hope he'd taken her to heart, also.

Time would tell.

She wanted to give it a shot. To do that, she needed to be where he was. The chance of a future with Brawley was worth what she might be giving up.

“I don't need to think about it anymore, Zandra. I'm sure.”

“Then I'll contact the landlord and get the paperwork started.”

“I'll fly back for a week or so to wrap things up from the showing.”

“Yes, you will. Should I expect you Sunday?”

Torn between her work in New York and her desire to help out with the fund-raiser, she made a decision. “No, I'm taking an extra week.”

When she hung up, she called Owen. Zandra had been absolutely right. Owen didn't care if she designed in Timbuktu as long as she came to New York when necessary.

Ending the call, Maggie flopped onto her bed, grinning like a Cheshire cat. She felt good. Better than she had in a long time.

The fund-raiser came together quickly, and the entire town of Maverick Junction and most of Lone Tree turned out for it. Adults and kids alike manned the tables.

By late afternoon, though, the heat hit hard, and Brawley decided to roll up the carpet. He and Cash dragged the few things that hadn't sold to two tables and posted a big “FREE” sign. Inside half an hour, nothing remained.

Brawley grinned as he watched Henrietta Greene tote away the ugliest table lamp he'd ever seen. The turquoise base was topped with a red and purple shade.

He shivered. “Can you believe she actually wants that?”

“Maybe she's planning on some target practice tomorrow,” Ty said.

“Frankly, I don't care what she does with it. Saves me having to pitch it in the Dumpster.” They took down the empty tables and stowed them in the back of Cash's pickup. “We did well here today.” He high-fived his friends.

“We did,” Cash said. “You've got enough to open the shelter. Sure is nice of Arnold to donate the building behind his gas station.”

“Yep.” Ty stretched his arms overhead and yawned. “What now?”

“Now, we relax.” Brawley tipped his head in the direction of the piled wood. “Time to light our bonfire. Might be hot, but you can't do this right without one. I think we should stretch this thing right on into the night. Maybe somebody—”

He trailed off, his eyes straying to the three women who walked toward them. “Now isn't that the prettiest sight you've ever seen?”

“Yeah. It is.” Ty reached out his hand and caught Sophie's, pulling her to him. They kissed. “Where are the kids?”

“Talking Sally out of an ice cream cone. Babs is with them.”

“I'd ask where our kid is,” Cash said with a grin, “but you've got that covered.” He kissed Annie and rested a hand over her baby bump.

Brawley crooked a finger at Maggie. “Why don't you come on over here and give me a smooch? I think I deserve it after today.”

“Why, Brawley Odell, I do believe we agree on something.”

Before he could respond, she planted a doozy of a kiss on him. He growled and wrapped an arm around her waist.

When she drew back, her lips were red and swollen, her chest rising and falling as she fought for breath.

Cash laughed. “Get a room.”

Annie punched her husband's arm. “What are you? Twelve?”

The triplets came running up to them, Cash's sister and her two in tow.

“I don't know about anybody else, but I'm famished.” Ty rubbed his stomach.

“Help is on the way. Let's get the fire started first.”

Grumbling about having to wait, Ty followed Cash and Brawley.

Brawley stopped to look over his shoulder. “You're not going anywhere, are you, Red?”

“Nope.”

He winked at her and caught up with the others.

By the time they had the wood stacked, a crowd had gathered. A cheer went up as flames shot into the air. Lawn chairs and blankets magically appeared as people settled in. Mr. Sadler showed up with all the fixings for hot dogs, bags of chips, and marshmallows to roast. Bubba's delivered a keg of beer and enough soda for an army. Dottie set up a battered card table and charged a dollar for the impromptu barbecue.

“Come on,” she nagged her neighbor. “It's for a good cause.”

Brawley noticed that very few one-dollar bills crossed her palm. Most of the townspeople handed her fives and tens for their Saturday-night dinner.

He stepped to the food table, prepared to plate hot dogs for the throng, but his mom pushed him out of the way. “Dad and I have this covered.”

She tipped her head toward Sadler's parking lot, which had become a makeshift dance floor. Someone had set up a stereo system.

Brawley caught sight of Maggie dancing to an old Merle Haggard song with little Josh.

His mother followed his gaze. “She's good with kids. She should have some of her own.”

He closed his eyes to hide the pain. His mom would see it and recognize it. He'd never been able to hide anything from her. Maggie should, indeed, have children of her own.
His
child.

Would their little boy have had Maggie's red hair, her green eyes? Or maybe his dark hair with those incredible blue eyes. Without thinking, his hand moved to his chest to rub the spot over his heart.

“Go to her,” his mom said. “Time the two of you healed the hurt.”

His gaze whipped back to her. Did she know?

“Go,” she repeated, giving him a little shove.

“Okay.” He laughed. “Sure you can handle this?”

“We handled you, didn't we?” his dad said. “After that, everything else is a cakewalk.”

“I wasn't that bad.”

“No, you weren't. You're a good son. Now listen to your mother and get out of here. The girl's waiting for you.”

Sure enough, when he looked at Maggie again, she was watching him. Without another word, he moved to her, cut in on Josh, and drew in the scent of her, the feel of her. Thank God for slow songs. Dancing with Maggie was the next best thing to making love.

He didn't get to keep her to himself long, though. Seemed everybody was glad to have her home and wanted to congratulate her on her success. Hands jammed into his jeans pockets, he stood off to the side drinking it in, so damn proud of her he thought his heart would burst.

Finally, she broke free and stumbled toward him. “I'm exhausted, and my feet are screaming at me to take a load off.”

“I've got just the thing.” Brawley went to his Tahoe and came back with the old red-and-black-checked blanket they'd used for their picnic at the lake. He spread it over the grass.

He bowed low, removed his cowboy hat, and placed it over his heart. Taking her hand, he helped her down.

“Cowboy chivalry at its finest.”

The moon rose in the sky, and, gradually, people headed to their trucks and cars. Things wound down quickly. Ty and Sophie said good night and bundled their boys off. Cash and Annie stopped by to tell them they were leaving.

Mr. Sadler pulled the plug on the music and locked up.

Finally, they were alone under the stars. The bonfire crackled and sparks flew into the night sky. The temperature had dropped, and a slight breeze lifted strands of Maggie's hair as they sat hip to hip on the blanket.

“When I heard you were leaving for New York, my stomach took a nosedive,” Brawley said. “Selfishly, I wanted you here when I came back.”

“That's not selfish.”

“Yes, it is. I left for college and stayed away.”

She nodded. “I never expected that. You hurt me, Brawley.”

“I did, and it was the biggest misstep of my life.” He took a deep breath. “You told me earlier I'd have to decide for myself what I needed to say. You were right. I'm not sure, though, if I can put my feelings into words.”

“Try.”

He rubbed a thumb over the back of her hand. “Growing up, I felt like my whole life had been planned for me. By others.”

“And I was doing the same thing. Assuming we'd get married, have kids—”

“I let you believe that, Maggie, because I wanted it, too. But then I got a taste of the rest of the world, of the possibilities, and I couldn't give it up. Not for anything or anybody. I needed to find myself.”