Dead in the Water (Kate Ryan Mysteries Book 10) (12 page)

“I-I don’t think that’s the right word.”

She cocked her head. “It’s not?”

“No. I think it has something to do with wealth and social standing.”

“Oh, dear,” she said, “maybe I’m bourgeois.”

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. “Can we try to keep this maniacal train in the station? What’s your secret?”

“Oh! Yes.” She leaned in. “It was Margaret’s idea to play
When I Fall In Love
.”

My jaw dropped as I sat back. “What?”

Hannah looked very happy with herself. “You heard me.”

I grinned like an idiot. “It was her idea?”

“Yep. And she was scared to death! Her hands were shaking, and she was a nervous wreck when she came into the cabin and told me what to do. She may have been a mass of insecurity, but it was wonderfully manipulative.”

I sat back, still grinning. “The little minx…”

Hannah let out a delightful laugh. “All’s fair in love and war. And you needed a little nudge. So you see, Margaret took a very big chance that summer evening. She took a chance that you’d dance with her and fall in love. Her fear was that you’d leave her standing alone on the pier.”

“As if.” I felt like crying; I didn’t know what else to say, so I took a long drink.

“And now it’s your turn. Take the chance, my darling. You may always have your insecurities about this, but don’t let that stop your love. Ask my niece to marry you.” She raised her glass to mine. “Damn the torpedoes!”

“And full speed ahead,” I said, raising my glass.

“Our secret?” Hannah said, pulling her glass away. She extended her little finger in the air.
 
“Pinky swear?” She wiggled said pinky at me.

Stephen walked up to the table just as we locked pinkies. “Two more, coming up.” He made an about-face and almost ran to the bar.

Oh, this woman.

Maggie will never know about this. What can I say? It’s a pinky swear.

Chapter 11

“Do you think Mike will find anything?” Maggie munched on the salad from the bowl.

“I hope so,” I said, tossing the towel over my shoulder. I stirred the spaghetti sauce, then tasted it. “Yum.”

“So how did the rest of your day go?” She opened a bottle of wine, while snagging a cucumber out of the salad bowl.

“Okay.” What a lie. I had a headache from looking at Hannah’s magazine. “And quit eating the salad.”

“Meanie.” Maggie pouted as she poured the wine.

“And don’t feed Chance under the table. Your aunt has spoiled her rotten.”

Maggie laughed then. “That dog was spoiled long before Aunt Hannah and I came along.” She sat back and took a sip of wine. “Remember that time?”

I heard the soft, wistful tone and turned away from the stove. She handed me the wineglass and winked.

“I do.” I took a sip and leaned against the counter. “Best weekend of my life.”

Maggie continued to smile that dimpled, sexy smile. I’d never tire of seeing it. “Mine too.”

“And if we ask Hannah, she’d probably agree.”

“Probably. Remember when she had your car towed?”

I sat next to her at the table. “I couldn’t believe it. I barely knew either of you. I didn’t know what to think.” I laughed, staring at my glass. “But Hannah knew.”

“I think she knew before we did. Hey,” she said. “You knocked me off my horse if I remember.”

“I did not. You rode that maniacal beast right out onto the road and in front of my car. You probably did that on purpose.”

“I did not,” she said, grinning. “What a way to meet.”

I nodded emphatically. “No shit. One of us could have been killed.”

“But here we are.” She reached her hand across the table, which I gently took in mine.

“Here we are. In love.” I looked up then. “Right?”

Maggie laughed. “Right.”

“We’ve been through a lot in a short time, haven’t we?” I whispered, absently running my fingertips across my class ring on her finger. My stomach flipped when I thought of the different ring that would grace her small delicate finger in a couple of days.

Even after the wonderful conversation with Hannah that filled me with confidence, I hated the wave of fear now that flowed through my veins like red-hot molten, steaming lava from a lousy fricking volcano that hadn’t erupted in centuries, but all of the sudden, bam!

“Kate?”

Maggie’s worried voice broke me from my asinine volcano reverie. I had to laugh at the worried look on her face.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

I tightly held on to her hand, giving it a reassuring tug. “Nothing. I was just thinking of all the odd situations we’ve been in. And all the ones yet to come.”

“I certainly hope so.”

“You see? This is what worries me.” I patted her hand and stood with a groan. “You like the oddball stuff, Dr. Winfield.” I drained the pasta and dumped it in a bowl.

“I do. That’s why I like you,” she said happily.

I playfully swatted her hand out of the salad bowl. “Someone should have had your sanity tested when you were younger. I’m starving.”

“This looks and smells wonderful.”

Maggie served up the salad while I got the garlic bread out of the oven. The spaghetti turned out well for an impromptu dinner.

“Someday, I’ll have to learn how to cook.”

“You’re getting better,” I said, snagging a piece of bread. “Now you can boil water like a gourmet chef.”

“Thank you.” Maggie laughed in between bites. “I found a great recipe online.”

We ate for a moment in silence. It amazed me how comfortable we were. I remembered my dating days, long, long ago when I felt I always had to be talking to fill the uncomfortable void with women. But from the start, I never felt that way with Maggie. She made me feel so relaxed, so at ease and familiar. Only Maggie.

“So did you cure the sick today?”

“Some, but mostly, it was a PR day for me.”

“Really? How?”

Maggie wiped her mouth on the napkin and sat back. “I was asked to sit on a panel next month. The hospitals in the area want to open a few clinics in certain neighborhoods.”

“Like the South Side?” I asked.

“Some. But also a few downtown. Anyway, the panel will be made up of doctors, nurses, and people who live in the area. They want to study the areas, get some different points of view, and hopefully, get a game plan for next year.”

“That sounds like a good idea. You have to know there are neighborhoods that need them. I think it’s great they asked you.” When she started to laugh, I reached for her wineglass. “Okay, you’ve had enough. What’s so funny?”

“To be honest, it’s not me personally they want. I think they want Aunt Hannah but didn’t want to come out and say so. Probably because she’s doing so much charity work already they don’t think she’ll have time.” Maggie offered a sarcastic grin. “Now that she’s a PI.”

I wagged my finger at her. “Ah, ah. Girl Friday. Hannah is very specific about that.”

“And the fact that she can’t carry a gun.”

“Oh, please, honey. Don’t even put that out in the universe again. I love Hannah more than you know, but her with a loaded gun?”

Maggie laughed as she continued eating. “And where would she put it?”

Now I was laughing. “In her garter belt?”

Maggie coughed, nearly spitting up her spaghetti. She wiped off her blouse with a napkin. “I’ll get you for that one.”

“I’ll add that to the list.” I reached over to gently wipe the sauce off her blouse.

Maggie looked down as I continued. “I think you got it all.”

Okay, I lingered; sue me.

“We want to be sure. That looks like an expensive blouse. I know you don’t buy off the rack.”

“Only when I shop for you.” Maggie gently pushed my hand away, and the next thing I knew, she was straddling my lap.

“Hello.”

“Hi,” she said, running her fingers through my hair, then down the back of my neck.

When her fingers caressed the old scar there, I couldn’t help the memory that flashed through my mind. How many years ago was it now? I could hardly remember. But I did remember the crazy woman who I thought loved me, who, as it turned out, just used me and my partner and nearly killed both of us—Liz Eddington. It was a name I’d never forget. Along with Bridget Donnelly. Another crazy woman from my past. Good grief.

But it was Maggie who helped me through all of it. I remembered when we were in Ireland with my sister, Teri, and my brother-in-law, Mac. I remembered the night in Maggie’s room, sitting in the window seat, watching the rain. How she patiently listened while I tried to sort out so many things I had put in the back of my mind, stupidly thinking I had dealt with all of it.

“What are you thinking?” Maggie whispered as she kissed my forehead.

I wrapped my arms around her waist, resting my head against her chest. I adored hearing her heartbeat.

“Just how caring you were when we went to Ireland for the first time. Remember when Mac inherited that house?”

“When we first realized how crazy Bridget Donnelly was?”

“Well, yes. But I was thinking more of how you and I were getting closer.”

Maggie chuckled, still running her fingers through my hair. “You were a stubborn one, Miss Ryan. I was honestly scared you might not call me when we got back to the States.”

I looked up then into her blue eyes. “I know. I was scared, as well. When you left Ireland, I didn’t know what to do. I felt lost, I guess. But I didn’t know it at the time.”

“When you showed up that morning at Aunt Hannah’s, I was shocked. You hadn’t called in weeks.”

I remembered that morning and had to smile. I sat in my Jeep staring at the house, wondering if I should go in or just drive away. I hadn’t called her; I was on a photo assignment and just took off like the emotional wreck I was. Maggie knew it, and she waited for me.

I swallowed my emotions. “I don’t know if I deserve you, Maggie,” I whispered.

Tears sprang into her eyes as she caressed my cheek. “You’re a dope.”

I laughed quietly, trying not to cry. “But…?”

“But you’re my dope,” she whispered against my lips.

“I’m not so hungry anymore.” My voice came out in a pathetic squeak.

“Me either.” She kissed my forehead. “How about a nice hot bath?”

“Well, you are full of spaghetti sauce.” I groaned when her feather-like caress drifted down my neck to the buttons on my shirt.

“Grab the wine,” she murmured against my cheek. “I’ll meet you in the bathroom.”

She let out a shrieking laugh when I bucked her off my lap and frantically reached for the bottle of wine.

*******

“Do you realize how much time we spend in this bathtub?” I sighed dreamily as I laid my head against the cool porcelain.

Maggie lay in front of me in the deep tub and sighed, as well. “Not near enough for my liking.” She lazily raised her hand.

I laughed when I heard the helpless whimper. “Lazy thing.” I picked up her wineglass and handed it to her.

“Is the water too hot?” I asked.

“Hmm, no. It’s just right and just the right amount of bubbles.”

“I do love bubbles,” I said, taking her wineglass from her. I took a drink and set it down. “And I love the way you pin your hair up like that. It’s very thoughtful of you.”

“Thoughtful?” she asked dreamily.

“Yes. Easy access to your neck,” I whispered and kissed the back of her neck. “It’s so inviting. I can’t help it.”

“You’re welcome to it.” Maggie sighed. “And you don’t have to stop anytime soon.”

By the time I stopped, we were both pruny and nearly asleep in the now tepid bathwater. Besides, Chance was staring at us, which always made me self-conscious.

Like a zombie, Maggie dried off and crawled into bed apologizing all the way.

I gently pulled the covers over her naked body and kissed her forehead. “It’s all right. I’ll be right back.”

I took care of the dishes and Chance, who really had to take care of business—maybe that was why she was staring earlier. After locking up and turning out the lights, I too moved like a zombie and crawled in next to Maggie, spooning behind her. She reached back and pulled me closer.

“Honey, if I get any closer, I’ll be in front of you,” I whispered.

“I want to make love to you,” she whispered, as well.

“Don’t let me stop you.”

“But I’m so tired.”

“Okay.” I laughed and kissed her shoulder. “We’ll save it for the weekend.”

“Deal. I love you. Only me?”

“Always. Only you.”