Knocking at Her Heart (Conover Circle #1) (14 page)

She couldn’t move. Not then. And
not when he bent his head and kissed her. His lips, unlike his hands, were cool
and delicious. And when she kissed him back, she felt and heard a great sigh
leave his body.

He angled his mouth and when she
parted her lips, he slipped his tongue in her mouth.  She felt the
answering response all the way to her toes.

When he finally lifted his head,
they were both breathless. “I probably shouldn’t have done that,” he said.

She licked her lips, hoping she
could remember his taste forever. “I wanted you to,” she whispered and knew it
was true.

He was pure temptation, like
extra icing on a cinnamon roll or a white-chocolate mocha. She’d never been
much good at saying no to dessert.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his
eyes filled with concern.

She was so okay that she was
seconds away from leading him up the back stairs and ignoring the fact that his
family was just a closed door away.  She scrambled off his lap and wiped
her hands nervously on her jeans. “Let’s go make some breakfast. If you’re real
nice to me, I’ll make you scrambled eggs. With no black stuff on them.”

*

Sam and Maddie left the farm
shortly after breakfast. On the way back to Conover, they talked about baseball
and politics and dream vacations. He preferred night games, they both hated
television commercials, and she liked the beach more than he did. They did not
talk about The Kiss. 

Something so wonderful had to be
a noun. Had to be worthy of being the subject of its very own sentence. Had to
be protected.

They did not talk about Gwen. He
didn’t offer and she didn’t ask—which she thought demonstrated considerable
restraint on her part.

When they pulled up in front of
her big house, she thought Sam had the oddest look on his face. He sat
perfectly still, simply staring at the big Victorian. Then he took a deep
breath and said, “I’d like to talk to you about something.”

They’d just had an hour in the
car. “Okay,” she said.

“Inside might be better,” he
said.

Assuming her mother was back, the
woman would be upstairs in Maddie’s apartment. They would have privacy in the
daycare area. Maybe this was about the mysterious Gwen. Maddie’s stomach felt
tight with apprehension. “Come on in,” she said.

Three little words. Come on in.
Harmless. But chock full of all kinds of trouble she realized when behind the
door she found her mother and Jeff sitting in the play area. They both looked
ridiculous perched on the small chairs, like birds on a narrow twig. Her mother
was a robin, once again all in red. Jeff was the gray thrush. He had on gray
slacks and a gray sweater that matched his gray eyes.

Eyes that looked sort of
panicked. They went well with his hair. It looked like it hadn’t been combed.
Of course, her mother could make most anybody pull his hair out.

“What’s going on?” Maddie asked, her
heart thumping. She hadn’t seen Jeff’s car. But then again, she hadn’t been
looking at anything but Sam’s dark eyes.

Jeff stood up, crossed the room,
and kissed her cheek. “I’d about given up on you,” he said. His words were
pleasant enough, but his tone was frosty. He grabbed for her hand, and his grip
seemed a little too tight.

“When did you get back in town?”
she asked.

Jeff shrugged. “Yesterday. I
stopped by late last night, but nobody was home.” He looked at her, then at
Sam, who had squared his shoulders and narrowed his eyes.

She wanted to tell Sam that Jeff
meant nothing to her, that she’d decided to end it with him. But that wasn’t
the right way. She couldn’t do that to Jeff. “Sam, this is Jeff Hogan.” She turned
to Jeff and waved in Sam’s direction. “Sam Jordonson.”

The two men did not shake
hands. 

Her cheeks felt hot. “I imagine
my mother has explained. You know, about the Bid on a Bachelor auction.”

There was an awkward moment of
silence until Frances Sinclair jumped up from her chair.  “Well, well. The
little farmers are back.”

“Hi, Mother.”  Maddie turned
toward her and tried to get a quick read on what Frances Sinclair thought about
Jeff.

It didn’t take her too long to
figure it out.

“Your friend and I have had the
most delightful conversation. Debits and credits and tax-deferred annuities.
Fascinating.”

Jeff didn’t react, and Maddie
realized that he didn’t have a clue that her mother was ridiculing him. She
couldn’t decide which one of them made her madder—Jeff for being dense or her
mother for being mean.

“Hello, Dr. Jordonson,” Frances
said. She made a point of looking at her watch.  “I guess I got my money’s
worth.”

Sam looked at Maddie. His dark
eyes were full of questions. “It was my pleasure.”

Oh boy. Now it wasn’t just her
cheeks that were hot. She felt sort of lightheaded, like she did when she got
up from a chair too fast.

It felt weird to be holding one
man’s hand when another man across the room made something like that happen.
She pulled away from Jeff, controlling what she could. But he wasn’t done.

“I guess I’m a little surprised
to learn that my girlfriend spent the night with another man.”

Sam pressed his lips together.

“Jeff, first of all, that’s not
what happened. I didn’t spend the night with Sam. I slept at his sister’s farm.
His whole family was there.” His whole great family who had made me feel
welcome. Because that’s what Sam wanted.

From the look on Sam’s face, she
didn’t think he cared too much about that right now.

“I didn’t realize you were dating
someone,” Sam said, his voice hard.

“Well, she is,” Jeff said.

The animosity between Jeff and
Sam was palpable in the room, making the primary colors more vibrant, making
the sun coming in the big windows brighter. 

“I can explain,” Maddie said. She
looked at both men. Then at her mother who had the good sense to no longer look
smug.

“I think I’ll go upstairs,” her
mother said quickly.

Sam held up a hand. “I clearly
should be the one going.”

No, she wanted to cry out. But
Maddie kept her mouth shut. She owed Jeff the first explanation. 

“Sam,” she said, “thank you. I
had a really great time at the farm.”

“Yeah, well, anything for a good
cause,” he said, not even looking at her. He turned and walked out the door without
another glance.

And the big room felt very empty.

“I’ll see you upstairs,” her
mother said. Neither she nor Jeff answered.

Maddie waited until she heard her
apartment door open and close. Then she turned toward Jeff. “We need to talk.”

He nodded.

“I’ve enjoyed the time we’ve
spent together these past few months.”

Now he was frowning at her.

She needed to get this over with.
“Jeff, I don’t think we should see each again.”

 “But—”

“I don’t blame you for being
confused. All I can tell you is that I’m certain this is the right thing and
that I’m confident that you’ll see it the same way. Soon.”

Jeff assessed her. “Does this
have anything to do with your weekend with Jordonson?”

“I made the decision before
that,” she said. “But I didn’t think it was the kind of conversation that I
should have over the telephone.”

“I don’t understand.  We
could have had a good life together.”

She could hear the hurt in his
voice.

Better to hurt him a little now
than a whole lot later when she realized that having a good life wasn’t going
to be enough.

“Good-bye, Jeff.  Good
luck.”

*

She walked up the stairs with a
heavy heart. Her mother was sitting on the couch. “Well, that was awkward,”
Frances said.

Maddie sunk down into a chair and
absently petted Snowball, who had immediately jumped into her lap. “Just a
little,” she said sarcastically. “What were the two of you doing downstairs?”

“Travis Muldoon was upstairs
patching your ceiling. He was pounding and sawing and making all kinds of
noise, and we could barely hear ourselves think. He left twenty minutes
ago.  I didn’t see any need to hurry back up.”

In other words, her mother had
gotten Jeff close to the door, and she hadn’t intended to lose ground. 

“Jeff is a bore,” her mother
said. “Tell me that you’re not really interested in him. Tell me it’s not too
late.”

Maddie could practically feel her
spine stiffen. “He’s a very nice man. Kind. Loyal. Caring.”

“Oh, please.”

Maddie counted to ten. “I just
told him it was over.”

“Thank God,” her mother said. “I got
the impression that Sam wasn’t too happy about Jeff.”

That made her chest feel tight.
She’d made a mistake. She should have mentioned Jeff, should have told Sam the
truth. Now it seemed as if she had been hiding something.

“Sam doesn’t really have a reason
to expect an explanation,” she said, assuming the defensive. It was better than
letting her mother know that she was afraid she’d really screwed up. “We’re
just friends. That’s all we were ever going to be.”

“You think?” her mother asked
cryptically. Then she leaned forward. “Don’t you want to know about my date?”

Of course she didn’t. But she
needed to think about something else than the hurt look in Sam’s eyes. “Where
did you go?”

“To Madison.”

“That’s more than a two-hour
drive.”

“I know. Anyway, we had a lovely
dinner.”

“So it was late when you got
home?”

“Almost midnight. Tom kept saying
that he was close to turning into a pumpkin.”

Tom. She’d said his name so
casually.

Maddie suddenly looked at her
couch with distaste. Had it seen some Frances and Tom action?  “Did he
stay late?”

Frances Sinclair tilted her chin
down. “That’s none of your business,” she said.

True. It was probably her
father’s business and since he wasn’t here, she was just going to have to
plunge forward.  “I’d hate to see you get hurt, Mother. Tom Holt has a
reputation for being a ladies man.”

“A
ladies man
?” 
Frances raised an eyebrow. “How old are you, Madelyn?”

She did sound a bit Victorian.
“It’s just that…I…”

“Oh for God’s sake, Madelyn. I
didn’t sleep with him. He didn’t ask, I didn’t offer.  Happy?”

Not really. Her mother also
didn’t sound any happier. In fact, she sounded pretty miserable. Had she hoped
for a different ending? “Did you want him to ask?”

Frances Sinclair stood up and
began to pace around the room. She made three full circles before she spoke
again. “Tom Holt is charming, good-looking, well-educated, well-traveled, and
knows how to order a bottle of good red wine. He’s everything that I find
attractive.”

Two more circles.

“But?” Maddie prompted.

“But I couldn’t stop thinking
about your father the whole night. When Tom ordered his steak medium well, I
almost corrected him. Your father likes his steaks medium rare.”

 Maddie’s heart felt lighter
than it had in days. “Old habits,” she said. “Hard to break.”

Frances turned toward her, and it
startled Maddie to see the bleakness in her mother’s eyes.

“When Tom held my hand, I closed
my eyes and tried to remember the last time your father had touched me.”

Oh, shit.

“I couldn’t remember, Madelyn. It
was so long ago that I couldn’t remember.”

Maddie got up, walked over to her
mother, and wrapped her arms around the woman.  “I’m sorry, Mom.”

Frances Sinclair pulled back. “I
sent Tom Holt on his way. Without so much as a peck on the cheek. My husband of
thirty years is screwing another woman, and I felt guilty because I’d held
another man’s hand. I’m a—”

The downstairs doorbell
rang. 

“Expecting anyone?” Her mother
continued. She walked over to the window, lifted the curtain, peered out, and then
glanced back over her shoulder. “Sam’s car is in the driveway.”

Why the heck had he come back?

The doorbell rang again.

“Answer your door, Madelyn.”

“You answer it, Mother. Tell him
I’m sleeping.”

Frances Sinclair shook her head.
“I will do no such thing.” She smiled at Maddie, a sad half-smile. “I didn’t
get to finish my sentence. I’m a fool, Madelyn. And I’m scared. I’m fifty-six
years old and I’m going to have to start over again. You said the other night
that you didn’t want my life. I get that.” She paused. “Just don’t be so sure
that having the exact opposite is the right thing either.”

Sam was about to ring the bell a
third time when Maddie finally opened her door.  “Sam?” she said.

She looked upset. His protective instincts
already on high alert kicked up a notch. He forgot about doing a quick check.
He stepped forward, forcing her to step back. Once they were both inside, he
closed the door behind him. “Are you all right?”

She crossed her arms over her
chest.  “Does it matter?”

He wanted to grab her and pull
her into his body. But she was someone else’s girl. He kept his arms down.
“Hogan seemed upset. I wanted to make sure that he had it under control.”

“Jeff had just spent an hour with
my mother,” she said, like that explained everything.

Sam had considered that. In the
end, he hadn’t been willing to take the chance.  He’d come home too many
times and seen his mom’s bruised face, the welts on her arms.  He knew
what an angry man could do.

To a woman. To a small boy.

He rubbed the bridge of his nose,
remembering the night he’d tried to defend his mother and had gotten a broken
nose for his effort. 

It had been worth it. His mother
had kicked the bastard out for good that night. He’d lain on the couch in their
small, hot apartment and swore that if he ever got the chance, he’d do it
again. That sometimes one person doing one thing could make a difference.

Maddie knew that. She’d literally
thrown her body in harm’s way to protect Kelsie.  He’d remembered that
when he was at the corner, feeling as if he’d gotten a hard kick to the
stomach. Maddie had a boyfriend.

As hurt as he’d been, he hadn’t
been willing to take the chance that Maddie needed him. He’d circled the block
and come back just in time to see Hogan leaving. He’d tried to convince himself
to go home, but he couldn’t. Not until he’d seen Maddie. Not until he’d known
she didn’t need him to make a difference.

Now he felt a little foolish. He
stepped back. “I was worried that Hogan might be the type to show his anger
with his fists. I…I’m sorry to have bothered you,” he said.  He just
needed to get the hell of there.

“You came back to make sure I
wasn’t hurt?” she asked, her voice subdued. “Sam Jordonson,” she said, her
voice just a whisper, “I think this might be the nicest thing anybody has ever
done for me.”

She thought he was nice.

She leaned forward and kissed
him.  Her lips were warm, her breath sweet, her touch gentle, and he
couldn’t have moved if he tried.  And when she put soft palms on both sides
of his face and pulled him close, it took everything he had to keep his hands
at his sides.

But he did.  Because he
sensed that Maddie Sinclair wanted to run this show.

She slanted her mouth and pressed
her lips to his. Her tongue, sweet God, swept into his mouth.

His damn knees were weak.

And when, still kissing him, she
slipped her hands underneath his shirt and ran them across his bare back, he
caved. God, he wanted her.

He grabbed her butt and pulled
her up against him, letting her know what her kisses had done to him. It had
been more than three years since he’d had a woman beneath him and while he’d
missed the feel of a woman’s skin, the scent, the heat, it had been tolerable.

Now the only thing tolerable was
pushing her back up against the door, shoving his hand underneath her shirt,
and grinding against her, telling her, showing her, how much he wanted. 
Needed.  Craved.

It was like the first night on
the stairs, only faster, more frantic. They devoured each other with mouth and
tongue, consuming each other with need.

Glory beckoned.

Then shit happened.

He remembered that she had a
boyfriend.

He pulled back, teetering on the
edge of no control. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I should not have done that. You’ve
got a boyfriend.” Only assholes poached. He had first-hand experience with
that.

“I broke up with Jeff.”

His whole body jerked.

“Why?” Then he held up a hand.
“I’m sorry. You don’t have to tell me.”

“It was just the right thing to
do.”

He had a thousand questions. But
it was clear that she didn’t want to talk about it. Surgeons were supposed to
have excellent assessment skills. And be decisive. But he didn’t have a clue
what was going on or what he should do next. 

“You should probably go,” she
said, as if she realized that he needed instruction.

“You want me to go?”  he
repeated.

She nodded. “I really think
that’s best Sam.”

“We need to talk,” he said.
“Please.” 

She chewed her lip. “Tomorrow.
After work.”

She opened the door and he left.
When he got to his car, he got in and then just sat there, unable to move. His
legs felt heavy, his shoulder ached, but his chest felt surprisingly empty. He
knew why. He’d left his heart inside. 

Maddie Sinclair held it in her
two perfect hands.

Now what the hell was he going to
do? 

*

On Monday morning, Carol didn’t
even take her coat off before pouncing. “How was your date?”

Maddie carefully finished pouring
two cups of coffee. “Fine.”

Carol circled around her, taking
a position on her left.  Maddie handed her a cup. “So? Where did you go?”

“To his sister’s farm. It’s an
hour west. Kelsie and Jean were there, too.”

Carol set her coffee cup down,
bent over at the waist, braced her hands on her knees, and started howling with
laughter. Maddie ignored her.  She walked over to the table, pulled out a
chair, and proceeded to sip her coffee. 

Carol finally stopped laughing
and wiped a tear from her eye. “I swear to God, Maddie.  Your mother
spends seventeen hundred dollars so that you can have a romantic evening with
Dr. Gorgeous and you spend it at some farm with his whole family. She must be
so pissed.”

Maddie frowned at her friend. “I
didn’t go to the farm to piss off my mother. I’m not that immature.”

Carol shook her head. “Then why?”

“I don’t know,” Maddie admitted.
“It sounded like a good idea at the time. He wanted to go and I didn’t really
care.”

“And how was the little 4-H
adventure?”

“Great,” she said, before she
could stop herself.

Carol sat up straighter in her
chair.

“I mean, his sister Amy is very nice.
So is her husband. They have a big, sprawling house and a barn full of dairy
cattle.”

Carol held up her hand. “Spare me
the field trip version. How was Sam?”

Perfect.
“Polite. Attentive.”

“You’ve just described the man
who sprays our yard for grubs. You know what I want to know? Was there any
zing?”

Her nerves were still humming
with it. She hadn’t been able to tell her mother the truth.  She needed to
tell someone. “Oh, Carol. It’s crazy. He’s a nice guy but exactly what I don’t
want. He’s a doctor. I don’t do doctors.”

“Did you tell him that?”

Maddie rolled her eyes. “Before
or after his tongue was in my mouth?”

Carol spilled her coffee. She
gave Maddie a big smile. “I’ll be damned.”

Maddie put her head in her hands.
“I screwed up, Carol. Big time. I had the perfect solution. When Sam brought me
home, Jeff was here. I could have left him thinking that I was committed to
Jeff. But I told him that I broke up with Jeff.”

“You broke up with Jeff?” Carol
asked.

Maddie nodded. “It was time.”

“No argument here,” Carol said.

They heard the front door open,
announcing the first child had arrived. Carol scooted her chair back. “You
didn’t screw up.  Honey, your world has always been so black and white.
But there really is a lot of gray out there. At the edges of the gray, it
blends into a nice lavender which spreads into a beautiful purple. Go for the
purple. Don’t be afraid of it.” She left the room.

Maddie remained in her quiet
yellow and white kitchen and debated adjectives.
Afraid. Dull.
Carol had
accused her of being both. She’d added on sensible herself, knowing that she
couldn’t dodge the label.

Sam Jordonson had said he’d be
back, that he wanted to talk. It would probably be sensible to be a little
afraid of that conversation. Beliefs she’d held on to for a long time hung in
the balance.

*

“So you took your date to the
farm?
”
Tom Holt scooped scrambled eggs onto a piece of dry toast.

Sam sipped his coffee. He’d
skipped the food as he and Tom had walked through the line in the hospital
cafeteria. “Yeah.”

Tom looked up and smiled. “You’re
a romantic bastard. I’ll give you that.”

Sam shrugged. “How about you?”

Tom lifted his chin and looked
more serious than usual. “Frances Sinclair is a nice lady. We had a lot in
common.”

The coffee in Sam’s stomach
started to gurgle. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“Nothing. There’s nothing to
tell. We had a nice time.”

“You’re holding back something.”

Tom looked around, making sure
that nobody else in the crowded cafeteria was listening. “Look, I was worried
that she might have some expectations about how the evening was going to end.
But I don’t think she did. It was kind of a relief.”

“That’s understandable.”

“It made me realize that I need
to go see somebody about my…my problem. If we go out again, I’d like to think I
could sail straight, if you get my drift,” he added, with a grin.

Oh for God’s sake. “She’s
married, Tom.”

“She said she was separated from
her husband.” Tom spread jelly on his remaining piece of toast. 

“I don’t think Frances and Peter
Sinclair are exactly separated.”

“She’s in Conover, and he’s in
Washington, D.C.”

“That’s just distance. There’s
something still connecting those two.” Might just be their wicked tongues and
their mutual desire to hurt the other, but it was something.

Tom chewed then swallowed. “Time
will tell. On to the important stuff. Do you have any idea what kind of offer
Maddie might listen to?”

“I think we should start looking
for a new site.”

Tom put down his fork. “What?”

“I don’t think she’s going to
sell. We need to move on, find another spot.”

Tom leaned over the table. “There
are no other spots, Sam,” he said, his voice a mere whisper.

“There has to be. Look. She’s
said no and I think she means it. She likes being close to the hospital because
so many of her customers work here. She thinks it gives them peace of mind to
be so close to their children. She’s probably right. We need to move on.”

Tom slouched back against the
booth again. “You’re serious?”

“Yes. I think you and I need to
meet with Donald, get him in the loop. Then we tell Percy to back off of Maddie
Sinclair.” 

Tom picked up his fork again.
“Okay.”

Now Sam leaned forward. “You’re
really okay with this. You’re not just saying that.”

Tom shrugged. “I’m surprised. But
the three of us agreed at the beginning. We make decisions that we can all live
with.”

“I’ll talk to Donald.”

“Let me. I’m playing racquetball
with him tonight.”

“Then you’ll call Percy.”

“Absolutely.”

Sam felt the muscles in his
stomach relax. Since the moment he’d stood at Amy’s sink and understood exactly
how Maddie was going to feel if she ever found out that he was part of the
“Interested Parties,” he’d known that he needed to convince his partners that
they needed an alternative strategy.

His plan to get up close and
personal with her had been insincere and damn manipulative. He was ashamed. But
now that Tom had agreed, maybe there was a chance that Maddie didn’t ever need
to know.

*

Maddie picked at the pasta and
asparagus that she’d made for dinner. Her mother, who had initially frowned at
the dish and then warned her that she wouldn’t be able to eat carbs in her
forties, had cleaned her own plate.

Sam hadn’t called during the day
and it galled her to admit it, every time the phone had rung, her heart rate
had sped up. It hadn’t helped that Jean had seemed to want to chat when she’d
dropped off Kelsie.

“I keep thinking about what you
did at Amy’s place,” Jean had said. “I’ve been raising Kelsie alone for a long
time, and sometimes it’s really hard.”

Jean’s pretty green eyes had
filled with tears and Maddie had been choking them back, too. “I just want you
to know,” Jean had said, “that I’m grateful. She’s everything I have.”

Maddie had managed to get her out
the door before both of them were blubbering fools. She’d half expected that
Sam would pick up Kelsie, but five hours later Jean had been back. It had taken
everything Maddie had not to corner her and demand to know if she’d talked to
her brother.