Some Like It Ruthless (A Temporary Engagement) (12 page)

“No. You have to work for it, too. You just can’t base your self-worth on whether you’re successful or not. Whether
we’re
successful or not. I’d like to be a part of it. Let’s make something together, Tanner. Just the two of us.”

“And when Cole does what he does? When Maggie needs you?”

When she didn’t say anything he shook his head, stepping away from her. “You chose me over your dad when we got married. I think that’s why he let us get married, honestly. But not Maggie. Never Maggie.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, Ginny. Loyalty isn’t a fault. I just don’t want you to ever have to choose again.”

She said, “I’d choose you.”

He sighed as if he didn’t believe her and she said again, “I’d choose you, Tanner. Next time I’d choose you.”

“There won’t be a next time.”

Ginny was half-afraid he was right.

Maggie was awoken a few hours later by a light tapping at her window. Halfway through “Shave and a Haircut” she flung the sheet off, glancing at the clock, cursing when she saw it read four-thirty.

She padded to the window, raising the blinds to glare at Cole.

He grinned and held up two cups of coffee.

When she opened the window he said, “I brought sex, too. If you hurry.”

“What do you want?”

“To get even, obviously. And to make you think twice about waking me up so early without any kind of incentive.”

She looked at the cup in his hand. “Point taken. Next time I wake you up, I’ll be sure to bring something scalding hot I can throw at you. Or wait, just give me that one.”

Cole shook his head. “Cranky. You’ll feel better after you say it.”

She narrowed her eyes and he said, “I know you’re thinking it. Just say it.”

“No.”

“Stop being a lady. It’s only me.”

She waved toward her clock and said it. “It’s four-fucking-thirty.”

He chuckled, a deep low sound in the dark that made her stomach wobble. Made her think of other activities that happened in the dark.

He said, “Feel better?”

“No. I’m still awake.”

“Awake’s good. We’ve got paperwork to do.”

She started to close the window. “Come back in four hours.”

“Nope. We’ve got a date with a sunrise, a blanket, and a watering hole.”

She raised her eyebrows at him and he said, “Just trying to keep the good times rolling. Yesterday went better than I could have hoped.”

“Taking me out to the watering hole is not going to do the trick.”

“When was the last time you were out there?”

“Oh, about sixteen years ago.”

He grinned at her. “You could have got it back if you’ll remember.”

She pursed her lips. “I remember.”

“Good thing one of us is willing to forgive and forget.”

“Perhaps you should remember that the person who is willing to forgive and forget is not me.”

She started to shut the window again and he said, “I’ll just go ring the doorbell a few times.”

“You know I don’t take well to threats.”

“It’s all I’ve got.”

She crossed her arms. “Find something else.”

“I already offered sex.” He held up a cup. “And coffee.”

“I don’t know why you thought that would work.”

He sipped. “Wishful thinking. But I did get some creamer for the coffee. Caramel macchiato.”

Maggie glanced at the cup he was holding and he said, “I probably should have led with that.”

She cleared her throat. “I’m not eating again until Monday.”

“It’s not eating, it’s coffee. But I suppose that means you don’t want the donuts I’ve got in the truck.”

Her stomach woke up at the mention of donuts. What was it about overeating? She could go months without caring for food but one day of stuffing her face and her willpower wobbled at the mention of donuts.

She said, “You should have led with the donuts.”

He took another sip, smacking his lips. “I honestly thought I was going to have to hold you down to get you to eat them.”

“You were looking forward to it, weren’t you?”

“Little bit.”

She thought about donuts. Thought about washing it down with sweet, rich coffee and said, “I don’t want to do paperwork at four-thirty in the morning.”

“Believe me, that makes two of us. But I have a point to make.”

She cocked her head. “If I go with you, we’ll call it even?”

“Even. I don’t want you coming over tomorrow at four. For paperwork.”

She nodded, shutting the window, ignoring his suggestion to leave those shorts on.

A few minutes later, she hopped into the cab of his truck dressed in jeans and running shoes. Cole handed her a coffee and she took a long sip, the brew rich and bitter and sweet on her tongue, and she noted the donut box sitting on the seat between them. Cole flipped open the box, picking one out and taking a big bite before turning on the ignition.

Maggie made herself wait until they turned onto the main road before she picked out a maple bar, just to give her flagging willpower a little punishment.

Cole laughed at her and reached for another.

They ate and drank in companionable silence, the dark confines of the truck cozy. She wouldn’t ever say it out loud but Cole was right. The truck was more comfortable than her car.

He drained his coffee, sighing. He smiled over at her and she raised her eyebrows in question.

He said, “I like watching you eat.”

“Just how long have you been without a girlfriend, Cole?”

He chuckled, pulling onto an overgrown dirt track. “Long enough.”

They bounced along until they pulled up to a pool of water, the sky just beginning to lighten.

Maggie got out, plopping her hands onto her hips, turning in a circle, taking in the watering hole. The trampled muddy edges, the liberal smattering of cow patties.

She said, “It looks the same. Maybe smaller.”

He looked at her expression and nodded. “Why is it that the things you love as a kid are a little disgusting as an adult?”

Maggie laughed. “It really is disgusting. I used to love wading around the edges and now I’m wondering why I didn’t catch some horrible disease.”

Cole put down the gate on the truck and jumped up. He unrolled two camping mats, putting a cardboard box between them.

Maggie sighed at the proof that they really were going to do paperwork so early in the morning, then squared her shoulders and handed her briefcase up to Cole before climbing up the wheel.

He said, “Why didn’t we ever come out here when we were sneaking around? Lots of privacy out here.”

“Maybe because I would have stopped sneaking around with you if you’d reminded me about it.”

“Teenage boys do have a sixth sense about that sort of thing.”

Maggie sat down cross-legged, opening her briefcase and snorting. “I doubt men ever outgrow that sixth sense.”

She pulled out a printed spreadsheet, squinting at it in the early morning light. She said, “This isn’t going to work. I, at least, didn’t wake you up uselessly.”

She looked up to find him watching her. He said, “We can snuggle under the blanket until the sun comes up.”

“No.” She wiggled around on the mat. “I might take a little catnap, though.”

Cole handed her a blanket, then sat down, safe on the other side of the box.

Maggie lay down, throwing the blanket over her even though the morning was warm enough without it.

She said, “I’ve gotten new terms with nearly a third of my creditors. I think by the end of next week, it’ll be almost all of them.”

“Already?”

She grinned. “Apparently the thought of you and me scares some people.”

Cole smiled. “I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.”

“Oh, I am. Jackson Harwood was waiting for me when I got home last night, and believe me, that’s a change.”

“I believe it. He was gouging you.”

She shrugged. “Beggars can’t be choosers. I knew they were terrible terms but I needed cash.”

“I hope you didn’t let him off the hook too easy.”

“No. But he brings out the worst in me.”

“I thought I brought out the worst in you?”

She laughed. “Sometimes. But you don’t call me a frigid whore. Or words to that effect.”

There was silence where Cole sat and Maggie closed her eyes. And imagined one more time Cole smashing his fist into Jackson’s face.

Cole said, “He said
what
?”

Maggie opened her eyes. “I made him pay for it. I’m only sorry you weren’t there to see it. I know you would have liked to watch.”

“You can’t have done anything to make him pay for that.”

She rolled onto her elbow, not trying to hide her smile. “Two percent and a one-year moratorium.”

Cole blinked. “Whatever happened to fair and equitable?”

“I didn’t want him to agree.”

He smiled and lay down on his side, facing her. “I’m still going to smash his face in.”

Maggie sighed. “No, you’re not. He apologized. That was part of the deal.”

He shrugged. “Still going to.”

“You think anyone is going to work with me if you go around making my word worthless?”

“You think I’m going to let you work with a man like that?”

“I’ve been doing it for years. I don’t see why adding you into the equation makes any difference.”

He flopped onto his back. “He’s a shit and he deserves a fist in the face.”

She said, “Yes and yes. He was also pretty drunk.”

“Is that an excuse?”

“No, just a comment.”

Cole said, “You shouldn’t have told me.”

“I know. He also called me a bitch.”

He thought about it for a minute, then said, “Nope, can’t beat him up for that. It’s the truth.”

She laughed. “But you can for calling me a frigid whore?”

He nodded. “Yep. ‘Cause they’re both lies.”

She watched the thin clouds roll slowly across the sky, looked at the horizon getting brighter and brighter.

She had been frigid. With Jackson. But she’d thought that sex would always be like how it had been with Cole. Hot and fun and mind-erasing. She’d been unprepared for it not to be.

She’d also been unprepared for it to be circulated as gossip.

Cole said softly, “You sure I can’t plant my fist in his face?”

She turned her head to see him watching her. “I’m okay. I’ve been dealing with Jackson Harwood for a long time. And his one-year moratorium nearly gives me a positive cash flow.”

“And that makes it okay?”

“To me it does. I wish there were a few more of him, actually.”

“Guess I’ll have to be happy with that.”

“Guess so.”

The sun broke over the horizon and Maggie closed her eyes against the blinding light. Felt the rays warm upon her face.

Thought about keeping her eyes closed and taking a little nap.

And then didn’t think anymore.

Six

When she woke up, the sun was higher in the sky and Cole was breathing heavily next to her.

She watched him, looked her fill. Traced his dark eyelashes, his slightly crooked nose from one fight too many.

And thought it was nice to have a friend again.

An enemy who sometimes felt like a friend.

She had family. Her sister.

But no friends. Never had had any. Except Cole.

He opened his eyes and smiled at her.

She smiled back. And felt one more angry, hurtful memory become just a memory.

If she wasn’t careful, she’d be forgiving him in no time.

He sat up, stretching, and said, “Finally got my nap.”

They worked for hours, until they were sweaty and sticky, until the papers were limp with the humidity.

And at the end, Maggie had a list of creditors she still needed to contact. And a near surety that in a month or two she would stop spending more money than she was making.

It felt good. It felt hopeful.

They rolled up the camping mats and Cole said, “You’re not going to come over at four tomorrow, right?”

“I’m not going to come over at all.”

He narrowed his eyes. “I’ll be out at Midland again Monday. I won’t be here if you need me.”

She nodded. “I can take it from here. And as Ginny says, I’m pretty okay with swinging your weight around even when you’re not there.”

“Mm. Hot.”

She chuckled. “You’re easy.”

“Pretty easy. What about you?”

He jumped down, holding a hand up to her. She ignored it to sit on the tailgate.

“I’m not easy at all.”

“Just a little kiss. This place needs a memory. A good memory.” He looked around. “‘Cause frankly I don’t want to ever come out here again.”

Maggie looked, too. And decided she was finally willing to let this watering hole go. Her father had spent years grumbling about losing it but now she realized it hadn’t been the watering hole. It had been the defeat.

Cole stepped between her swinging legs and said, “I’ve been thinking about California.”

“California?” Then she remembered that’s where she’d said they would have gone. If things had been different.

He said, “I’m glad we didn’t go. This is where we belong.”

“You’re just glad you didn’t end up swinging by the balls.”

“Yep. And I’m glad we could come out to the watering hole together.”