What Were You Expecting? (5 page)

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Authors: Katy Regnery

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Family Saga, #Romance, #Western, #Sagas, #Westerns

BOOK: What Were You Expecting?
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The phone clicked off and before Maggie could say another word, the bell over the front door rang to announce the arrival of Nils Lindstrom.

 

Chapter 3

 

She looked terrible and he couldn’t help it that his lips wobbled briefly as he suppressed a grin. He could tell how bad she was feeling—he’d been there before himself. But she squared her shoulders toward the door and lifted her chin a notch as he stepped into the warm, sweet-smelling cafe. So small, yet so full of spirit.

“Morning, Maggie,” he began cautiously as he approached the coffee bar.
Does she remember last night? Does she remember what she said to me? Does she remember me kissing her forehead before I left?

“Mornin’, Nils,” she said without smiling, her green eyes more bloodshot and wary than usual.

He gestured to her head. “How’re you feeling?”

“A bit the worse for wear.” She held his eyes with hers as he sat down on a bar stool in front of her, searching his face. It was like she was waiting for something, bracing for something unpleasant, like a lecture or a bad surprise. Well, she wasn’t going to get either. He didn’t even know how to process what had happened between them last night, but if she had forgotten some of the details, it was probably for the best. He flicked his gaze up to the chalkboard over her head, even though he’d memorized it long ago.
Damn, but this is awkward.

She took a deep breath and sighed. “What can I get for you?”

“Two lattes. Please.”

“Cinnamon for your Pop?”

He nodded, looking back at her, his lips tipping up slightly.
Was she going to mention last night? Did she even remember last night?
She was acting so tense and cagey, he wasn’t sure what to do, so he stayed silent on his stool waiting for her to make the first move.

She turned her back to him and started working on the coffee, pouring shots into paper cups as the milk gurgled in the steamer.

“I’m thinkin’ I owe you some thanks. For, er, last night.” She glanced at him over her shoulder for a moment and he saw a blush creep up her cheeks before she turned back around.

“It’s fine. You needed help,” he said quietly.

She mumbled something incoherent then turned to him and placed the two steaming cups on the counter, pushing one closer to him before looking him straight in the eye and asking, “Do we need to discuss how I woke up half naked this mornin’?”

Nils choked on the sip of coffee he’d taken, sputtering and coughing, and Maggie quickly took the cup out of his hand. He took a deep breath and cleared his throat as she stood motionless before him, staring at him unflinchingly while the flush in her freckled cheeks deepened. The words “half naked” had triggered an immediate reaction in his body, making his blood sluice hot and fast below his waist where it rushed to one place, increasingly rigid beneath his jeans.

In an effort to calm down, he released her eyes and his gaze lifted to her forehead where he’d brushed his lips gently across her skin before leaving her last night. It was a liberty he shouldn’t have taken, but after what she’d said to him, the way he’d held her in his arms and readied her for bed, he couldn’t help himself. Still, he shouldn’t have done it. It was a chaste, little kiss; even if she remembered it, he was sure she’d agree it didn’t break any rules of propriety. But, in Nils’s mind, in his heart, he’d crossed a line. Little though it was, it was still a kiss. It was still his lips caressing the sacred space of her face, touching her warm, soft skin, and breathing in the faint strawberry smell of her hair. It was the first truly intimate contact he’d ever allowed himself with Maggie and though he might try to banish the memory from his head, it was carving out its own steadfast, abiding place in his heart. Quite simply, it couldn’t be undone.

His face must have betrayed his thoughts in some part because she raised her eyebrows and widened her eyes as she placed his coffee back down on the counter.

“Nils…,” she warned, reminding him she needed to know what had happened between them.

Half naked.
“Your, um, your jeans and socks were soaked. I didn’t want you to catch a cold or get your bed all wet and muddy, so I…”

He could feel the heat in his cheeks as his words trailed off. He knew he was flushing as deeply as she. For as much as Maggie and Nils had been friends for several years, he certainly hadn’t spent any time in her bedroom, though his mind spent a good portion of every day wondering about it. Now that he knew it was decorated in white wicker and violets, his fantasies had a whole new reality to add to the mix.

“So, you took off my pants and socks.” Her lips twitched and she couldn’t suppress a small grin. “Did you peek?”

His fingers twitched as though remembering the soft, warm skin of her thighs as he dragged the denim down her legs, and he fisted them in protest. He bit down lightly on his bottom lip, looking down at the counter and shaking his head no. At the same time he mumbled, “I might’ve. Just a little bit.”

When he looked up, her face was a mixture of surprise, censure and…what? Merriment? Teasing? She was suppressing a smile. Was she
glad
he had peeked? The very thought made him harder, made his arms flush with goose bumps under his flannel shirt.

She turned her back to him, reaching to find two clean lids on the cluttered counter behind her. When she faced him again, her minxy little smile had faded. “I didn’t…I mean, did I—did I say anythin’? Anythin’ especially awkward?”

That man needs to bed me or wed me… I wish I dinna like him so well…
He looked up for a second then flicked his eyes back down on the counter. He didn’t trust himself to look at her. What was he supposed to say? Should he tell her what she’d said? No, he resolved, best not to open that can of worms. “You thought I was Paul.”

“Oh.” She sounded worried.

“It was just a whole lot of nonsense, Maggie. Couldn’t make out most of it.”

“Oh.” Instead of sounding relieved, she sounded a little disappointed. She shrugged lightly. “Well, thanks. For your help. I know I can be a handful…when I drink.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” he said as she jammed the lids down on the cups in front of him. His body was still on high alert, keeping all of the memories from last night pressurized inside. He needed to diffuse it before he did something stupid like touching her or telling her what she’d said. He’d promised himself long ago not to pursue Maggie and he wasn’t about to reverse that decision now, not after staying strong for years. Best to make sure their friends-only status was intact. “We’re friends, Maggie. I’d always help a friend.”

She winced and her eyes clenched closed for a moment, which made him feel like a bastard. But, it was for the best. She didn’t know that anything beyond friendship was impossible. But, it was. He’d never risk it. Never.

Still, he hated it that his words had hurt her. He tilted his head to the side and smiled at her gently. “That headache must be pretty bad. You have Advil?”

Her eyes flashed and she looked frustrated, almost angry. “I have everything I need, Nils. Dinna worry about me.”

“But, I do,” he blurted out.
Shoot! Shut up! You’re going to confuse things!

“What? You do?”

“Of course.”
Back track, back track!
“We’re friends. I think you drink too much sometimes and it makes you reckless. And I’d hate to see any friend of mine—”

Her lips, which had been soft a moment before, tightened. “I told you. You dinna need to worry about me.”

She turned on her heel and headed to the end of the bar, where she took a metal hanger off a coat tree and started unraveling the wire, mostly keeping her back to him. He could tell she was in a bad mood and he knew he should pick up his coffee and leave. But damn it, he
did
care about her. A lot. A lot more than he should. He needed to smooth things over before leaving.

“Hey, Mags,” he said, pushing off the stool and strolling down the bar toward her. “I talked to Jenny last night. She said something about us having a party for Pop here.”

She didn’t look up at him, grimacing as she wrestled with the hanger in her hands. “Aye. I talked to her yesterday, too. She was thinkin’ late June. In a few weeks.” She grunted in frustration when she couldn’t untwist the rigid wire.

“Can I help you with that?”

She held out the hanger and crossed her arms over her chest when he took it. His strong hands untwisted it quickly and he handed it back to her.

“Thanks,” she said, straightening out the rest of it until it was one long piece of mostly unbent wire. “I can manage the food and drink. She said somethin’ about you and Lars being in charge of decorations and guests and such. I did some research yesterday and you know, at some of these parties, they have slideshows with pictures. You know, sort of a movie of the person’s life.” Her voice warmed up and she grinned at him. “Wouldn’t that be nice?”

He nodded, feeling relieved. She still looked a little green, but her smile reassured him that they’d get over the speed bump of last night and everything—but a few new memories that he’d keep well hidden—would go back to normal. “Real nice. Maybe Lars and I can get our hands on Pop’s old pictures without him noticing.” He gestured to the wire in her hand. “What’re you doing with that?”

“Oh, just some mail slipped behind the back counter. An envelope. I keep meanin’ to caulk the crack closed, but I keep forgetting.”

Nils stepped behind the bar, following her to the place where several envelopes lay tangled in the cord of an old-fashioned push-button phone. He gestured for the wire and she handed it to him. “Here?”

“Yes. Thanks, Nils.” She turned her attention to the other side of the bar where a customer ordered a Café Americano and two chocolate-chip scones.

A photo slideshow was a damn nice idea. Jenny had to know where Pop kept all the old albums from when they were kids, from when their Mamma was alive. Heck, he might even be able to find some photos of their grandparents back in Sweden before they’d emigrated to Montana. He fished the hanger down the crack between the wall and the counter and pulled it up to reveal a crisp white envelope. He read the return address as he placed it on the jumbled pile with the other envelopes: Marcona Electric. Huh. Wouldn’t have been good to lose that one, he thought, thinking of Maggie walking into the café one morning only to find the power off.

He glanced over at her as she chatted cheerfully with an older couple from his church, her slim arms spread out over the copper bar. She was tiny compared to him; she barely came up to his shoulder fully straightened, with trim hips and a narrow waist. He stared at it for a second before she looked back and caught him, raising her eyebrows playfully before returning to her customers. He huffed once, quietly. He was like a grizzly bear, freakishly large and clumsy next to her spritely fairy-like build. He bit down on his bottom lip, forcing himself to look away from her. His eyes caught the electric bill again, and he decided to shove the hanger down the crack one last time, just to be sure no other bills had gotten lost.

He heard the sound of wire scraping back and forth as he toggled it, clean and clear, before snagging on something far over to the left side where the wall and counter almost connected. He pulled the hanger up and let it slide down gingerly against the wall again. Yep. There was definitely something back there. He shimmied the wire gently until he was pretty sure he found the corner of whatever it was and tugged up, listening to the muted sound of the wire sliding the item up against the back wall as he raised it up. Finally a dirty, mottled, brownish-grey corner of paper peeked out above the counter line and Nils reached forward with his absurdly beefy fingers to try to grasp it. No dice.

“Maggie,” he interrupted, drawing her attention away from the couple. “Come grab this, would you?”

“Whaddya find?” She leaned over his arm and he tried not to groan when her small breasts brushed up against his coat sleeve. His body tightened and he fought the urge to move his arm up, into her chest, silently cursing that he had to be so attracted to her.

“Just pull it out,” he growled.

She looked up at him and grinned, saucy. “Why, Nils!”

“I’m going to lose it,” he muttered, not sure if he was referring to his tentative grip on the hangar as his hands sweated, or his less tentative grip on his desire as she rubbed her breasts into his arm again, leaning forward to grab the dirty paper with her fingertips.

“Growly bear,” she said softly, pulling back the envelope and flirting with him from under mostly downcast eyes.

He straightened, pulling the hanger out of the crack and thrusting it at her. “You’re welcome,” he added sarcastically. “So, what is it? I guess it’s not the electric company or your water bill since both are working…then again, with your haphazard organization system over there, it could be—”

He gestured to the pile of envelopes then turned back to her, surprised by the fraught expression on her face. Maggie stared at the filthy, crumpled envelope in silence, her eyes widening. She sucked in a breath, turning it over quickly and ripping it open.

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