Darling obstacles (17 page)

Maggie's eyes met Greg's and a rush of pure happiness filled her. She was in love with him and, for this moment, that was enough.

"Can we go to the boat now, Daddy?" Josh asked impatiently.

"We're on our way. Let's go, crew," Greg called, taking Maggie's hand.

The boat was a thirty-four foot cabin cruiser with a powerful inboard motor that propelled the craft up to a speed of forty to fifty miles an hour. Greg gave each child, even the smallest ones, a turn at the wheel under his careful tutelage. Maggie relaxed in the front of the boat, admiring the passing scenery and enjoy-

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ing the warmth of the sun on her face as they sped across the water. She was warmed by Greg's patient interaction with the children and by their exuberant high spirits. Kari was absolutely right, Maggie thought happily as the boat cut through the blue-green waters of the Chesapeake Bay. This was the "funnest" day they'd ever had.

"Would you like a turn at the wheel, Maggie?" Greg asked a long time later. She nodded, less interested in steering the boat than in sitting close to Greg, who hovered over each novice captain. She wasn't disappointed. Greg sat close beside her, his thigh pressing tightly against hers. Her head rested in the hollow of his shoulder and his heady masculine scent filled her nostrils. When he began to caress the nape of her neck lightly with his fingertips, a sensual shiver ran along her spine.

"Well stay at my house tonight," Greg said lazily. "The kids can bed down two to a room and you and I can lock ourselves in my bedroom far from the madding crowd."

"We cant, Greg," she said breathlessly. It was difficult to think with his hand softly rubbing the sensitive skin of her neck. She was feeling the effects of his touch everywhere—in her taut nipples, in the pit of her stomach, between her thighs. . . .

"Of course we can." He leaned closer, his voice husky, his breath warm against her cheek. "You want to stay with me, don't you, love?"

Her eyelids fluttered. Why bother to deny the obvious? "Yes, but we—"

"Then there's no reason why we can't." His other hand dropped to close possessively around her thigh.

"There are seven very real reasons why we can't." She pried his fingers loose and placed his hand on the wheel. "Teaching children moral standards is difficult enough these days, Greg. What kind of an example would we be setting for our kids if we conducted a blatant affair right under the same roof?"

"You'd prefer a secret affair under a different roof?"

"That sounds tawdry too. Oh, Greg, I just can't go through with it. If I'd been thinking clearly, I'd have faced it from the start." She gave a small, mirthless smile. "But you have a way of making me not think at all."

"What are you trying to say, Maggie?" he asked harshly.

"Greg, I can't—"

"I'm getting cold, Mommy." Kari climbed across the seat to them. Greg and Maggie exchanged glances, their faces mirroring their mutual frustration at the interruption.

"We almost set a world record," Greg muttered. "We had nearly five full minutes to ourselves."

Kari was beginning to shiver. Maggie turned her full attention to her child. "You can sit on my lap, Kari. Ill hold you and keep you warm."

"I have an even better idea," said Greg. "Kari can drive the boat and 111 hold you on my lap, Maggie. You can keep me warm."

"Greg!" Maggie admonished, flushing.

"Oh, Uncle Greg!" Kari giggled. "You're so silly!"

"A better word would be desperate, Kari," Greg said as he shifted Maggie from her place behind the wheel to the seat beside him. He took over the steering as Kari plopped down on her mother's lap, the bald baby doll in her arms.

"It's getting late, we'll head back now," Greg announced to nobody in particular. "It'll be close to an hour before we're back in Annapolis."

"Hold me tight, Mommy," Kari ordered, snuggling in her mother's arms.

"Hold me too, Mommy." Max joined them, his face alight with mischief. He held his worn old bear under one arm and his two new cars in his hands. "Maggie," he corrected himself. "Mommy-Maggie." He and Kari both giggled.

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"Is there room on my lap for Max too?" Maggie asked Kari.

The little girl paused to think. "Well, I guess so." She shifted to make a place for Max on her mother's lap. Wendy joined them next, squeezing herself between Greg and Maggie. "This is nice," Wendy said softly, leaning her head against Maggie's arm.

Greg gazed at Maggie and the three small children, then glanced to the back of the boat where the four older ones were laughing together. "Yes," he murmured thoughtfully. "It is nice, Wendy."

They docked the boat in Annapolis and Greg insisted on taking the whole group into one of the local seafood restaurants for dinner.

"I'd rather have hamburgers," grumbled Josh.

"I'd rather have pizza," added Paula.

"Fish!" Kari made a face. "Yuck!"

"Fish makes me throw up," warned Max.

"I have a terrific idea," Greg said with determined enthusiasm. "Why don't the seven of you go to that Italian restaurant up the street? You can stop at the hamburger stand along the way and get a burger for Josh. Maggie and I will eat here." He turned to her. "Unless fish makes you throw up?"

"Of course not, but do you—"

"Good!" Greg handed Paula several bills. "All of you, go! Order whatever you want and take your time eating."

"Fish doesn't make me sick, Uncle Greg," Kevin said. "I like it. Ill stay here with you."

"Kevin, we've just been politely told to get lost," Paula said with an air of exasperation. "They want to be alone. Now come on."

"How come they want to be alone?" demanded Max.

Kristin gazed thoughtfully at Greg and her mother. "They want to talk about boring grown-up things, Max," she explained, taking the little boy's hand. "Well have a much better time having pizza."

Maggie saw Kristin and Paula exchange specula-

tive smiles as they herded the younger children out the door. Their perception seemed much too adult and it bothered her. "Greg, I don't want the kids to know, uh, to think that—that. . ."

"That we're sleeping together?" Greg finished smoothly, guiding her to a cozy wooden booth in the corner of the restaurant.

She blanched. "Were not!"

"Sweetheart, we are. We slept together Friday night, we would have slept together last night if you hadn't been trying to prove your independence by going out with Cassidy, and we're going to sleep together tonight."

Maggie didn't know which point to refute first. "I wasn't trying to prove my independence, I am independent," she began hotly. "And we're not going to sleep together tonight!"

"Why not? You've admitted that you want to, Maggie."

"Well, we can't always do what we want," she retorted. "That's one of the first lessons taught by maturity."

"So ..." Greg picked up the menu and appeared to study it. "You've decided not to see me anymore?"

A fierce pain jolted through her at the thought. "I didn't say that." Her reply was swift and vehement and she ducked behind her menu to hide her flushed face.

"Then you do want to see me." He stretched his long legs out under the booth, deliberately entangling her legs with his. "But you don't want to make love. You want a brother-sister type of relationship."

Maggie drew in her breath sharply. Her feelings for Greg Wilder were definitely not sisterly and she knew they never would be. "Greg, you're confusing me," she whispered nervously.

"I'm simply trying to define our relationship, Maggie. I'm as confused as you are."

Somehow, she doubted it. His eyes were focused intently upon her and he looked cool and calm and

completely in control, while she was trembling, both inwardly and outwardly.

"Do you want to marry me?" he asked as casually as he might have inquired if she wanted the soup as an appetizer.

For a moment she was too shocked to speak. The room seemed to whirl and she gazed blankly at the menu. And then comprehension dawned. Greg was joking, of course. He expected her to come back with some witty rejoinder. None came to mind. It hurt too much to make jokes about dreams that could never come true.

"Well?" he prompted.

"Greg, I'm not really in the mood for jokes. I'm tired—all that wind and sun, I guess. Try me again tomorrow. Ill appreciate the humor then, I'm sure."

"I'm very serious, Maggie. I think we should get married."

She opened her mouth to speak but no words came out. At that moment the waiter arrived to take their order.

"Shall I order for you?" Greg asked politely. Maggie nodded. Had he guessed that she hadn't comprehended one printed word on the menu? Greg ordered a platter of Maryland crab cakes, cole slaw, and french fries for each of them. Having taken the order, the waiter departed, leaving them alone again.

"I can see I've taken you by surprise," Greg remarked dryly.

"I—I don't know what to say," Maggie stammered, and reached for her water glass. She took a gulp of ice water and promptly choked.

"You really are shaken, sweetheart. Does the idea of marrying me seem that farfetched to you?"

"I don't understand, Greg. You've known me for over two years and you've never displayed the slightest interest in—in marrying me, or anyone else for that matter. I'm the same person I was last week, last month—last year—and you never thought of marrying me then. What made you propose now?"

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His lips curled into a sheepish, crooked smile. "Maybe I didn't realize until now that I'm madly and passionately in love with you."

She scowled at his attempt at humor. More than anything, she wanted those words—spoken jokingly, she knew—to be true. 'That's funny, Greg." She made a strangled sound that was supposed to be a laugh. "Now tell me the real reason for this sudden proposal. If that really isn't a joke as well."

"I told you it's not a joke, Maggie." His voice deepened. "You don't believe that I want to marry you because I love you?"

"Not for a minute," she fired back.

"Then I have to assume that you're certainly not in love with me."

She didn't meet his eyes. He didn't love her, but she loved him. What if she were to admit her love to him? Would he then feel obliged to go through the motions of pretending to be in love with her? And would that be so bad? she wondered glumly.

"So we're not in love." Greg took her silence for assent. "However, that's no reason why we shouldn't marry, particularly when there are so many good reasons why we should." His piercing blue-green eyes seemed to pin her to her seat.

"Shall I list them for you, Maggie? We're both raising our children alone, and a two-parent family is more stable and secure. My kids need a mother and yours need a father. I think you're a wonderful mother and I want my children to have your love and care on a permanent basis. I'd do my best to be a good father to your children, too, Maggie. I already like them and I think they like me. And all seven kids seem to get along well enough, wouldn't you agree? Last, but certainly not least, our marriage would greatly improve your financial status. Think of that, Maggie. No more money worries. Ever."

"You make it sound like you're proposing a business merger, not marriage," she whispered. "You make it all seem so practical, so logical."

"It is practical. Logical too. I admire the way you've coped with your children and your life, Maggie. I respect you. And didn't today prove that we can function successfully as a combined family?"

Admire. Respect. Combined family. Maggie gazed at him bleakly. If only he loved her!

"Maggie, I like being married, I'm a family man." Greg leaned forward, his tone earnest. "These past two years have been a crazy aberration for me. I'm so sick of dating and meaningless small talk and unfamiliar bedroom rituals with different women. I want to spend my free time with my family, not chasing around like an overgrown adolescent. I haven't fared too well as a single parent, Maggie. Even when I preferred to be home, I felt a compulsion to go out. To me, a home and family are irrevocably bound up with having a wife."

"I see your problem," Maggie said wryly. "You want to spend your free time at home with your kids, but you also want sex. I can see where it would be convenient for you to have a wife safely stashed away in your bedroom for after the kids are tucked in for the night."

"I didn't mean to state it so badly. Sex is important to me, Maggie," he said bluntly. "You know I want you and you want me. The sexual chemistry is good between us but I wouldn't be marrying you strictly for sex.

"Honey, I would be a good husband to you," he continued in an urgent, low voice. "I would be a good provider, I would be faithful to you and—and I would try never to hurt you."

His words swirled around surrealistically in Maggie's head. A good provider. He would see to it that she and her children had food, clothing, and a roof over their heads. The government and any number of charitable institutions would do the same. He would be faithful to her because it would be convenient for him; he'd already made it clear that he was tired of changing beds on weekends. He cared about

her—as a mother, a person, a friend. That was the way she felt toward her next-door neighbor. And he claimed he would try never to hurt her? He was killing her right now! Every word seemed to pierce her heart like the blade of a dagger.

The waiter brought their food. Greg devoured his dinner with relish; Maggie picked listlessly at hers. "I think we should get married as soon as possible," he said as he polished off his crab cakes. She offered him her second one and he accepted it at once. 4 Tm on call next weekend, but the weekend after that would be fine. After all, why wait?"

Why, indeed? Maggie thought later. Greg didn't even wait for her to give him her answer. He assumed that the wedding was a foregone conclusion and announced the marriage to all seven children as they drove home. Maggie was stunned, furious, and close to tears. The kids were so happy! Kevin, Kristin, and Kari were all ready to call Greg Daddy. Max, Wendy and Josh wanted to call her Mommy.