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Maggie slid onto the edge of the sofa. She had no energy left at all and was pretty much running on fumes.
“I love you.”
Maggie’s chest constricted at his words, and even if she wanted to respond, there was no way that she could. It was impossible. Th
e part of her brain that controlled vocal chords had just taken a trip south, and she was speechless.
Cain stared at her from a few feet away, his tobacco-colored waves wild, tinged with new streaks of sunlight. His dark eyes glittered, their depths filled with emotion. She tore her eyes away and her gaze fell to his mouth. That was the wrong thing to do.
He had a way of making a woman forget, and with the stakes this high, Maggie needed her wits about her. He didn’t give her a chance, of course, because he plunged forward and paced across her small living room as he spoke.
“I’ve said those three words to a few women in my day. I’ve sang them every single night on stage, but until now, I can honestly say I’ve never really felt them. It’s so damn easy to say you love someone, because they’re just words. I love you. Three little words. But it’s the feeling behind those words that’s hard. It’s the feelings that make them matter.”
Cain paused inches from her. She held her hands tightly in her lap when all she wanted to do was lose them in the thick waves at his nape and pull him close.
“Do you believe in fate, Maggie?” It wasn’t a question really, because he plunged forward without giving her a chance to answer. “I do. I believe that everything happens for a reason. Karma is real and will either bitch-slap or embrace you when you least expect it. I believe that there are people who come into our lives for different reasons. Some leave, and there are others that are meant to stay. Keepers.”
He moved closer still until the warmth of his breath caressed her cold skin. But he didn’t touch her. He didn’t need to. His words were physical. They slid across her skin and settled into her soul.
“I’ve got several guitars back in LA. Some are worth a fair bit of money, but only one of them means the world to me and is a keeper. It’s the guitar my mom gave me.”
His hand reached for her, and she leaned her cheek into his palm. “I don’t know if I’m making sense, but that’s what you are to me Maggie, a keeper. I need you in my life.”
He was breathing heavy, and when his hand left her cheek, taking his warmth with it, she whimpered softly.
He stared at her long and hard, and when he spoke there was a surety to his words that grabbed her, that made her believe. “I know you’ve got secrets and pain and a whole bunch of shit I know nothing about. But I’m not going away. I want to make this work…this thing we have between us. And yeah, my life might be different than Luke Jensen’s or Doctor Harding’s, but I think we could make it work. I think we should at least try.” His ran his fingers through his hair, a gesture she’d come to love. “You have to know I’d never do anything to hurt you or Michael.”
“Cain, I—”
“And the pictures… I should have known Natasha would pull something crazy like sending the damn paparazzi after us.”
He nodded toward her window and tossed a set of keys onto the table beside the plaid chair.
“You know where I stand. I want you to take some time and think about what I said. About us. About being honest with each other and sharing everything. Will you do that?”
Maggie nodded in silence.
“Good, but fair warning. I’m pretty damn relentless when I want something.”
Her heart skipped a beat at the look in his eyes.
“I want you and Michael.” He shrugged. “It’s that simple. I’m leaving you my truck, so there’s no excuse for you not to come out to the football field.”
Cain’s eyes smoldered, his gaze resting on her mouth, and she thought that maybe he’d come to her. She found her body leaning forward, anticipating. Instead he turned and left her to the quiet of her home. Maggie sank back to the sofa and touched her mouth. He hadn’t kissed her, but she felt a burn nonetheless.
She closed her eyes and fought the hot and cold that claimed her body in waves.
What the hell just happened?
Chapter 33
Maggie slept in.
When the sun began to rise in the sky, when those first golden rays cut through the dark Michigan night, she was dead to it all. She lay on her side, cuddling a large pillow in much the same way she’d clung to Cain every night that he was in her bed.
Her small bungalow was silent, and it wasn’t until nearly nine thirty that she rolled over and opened her eyes a crack. She winced, not used to the bright sunlight that shone into her room. She’d been so tired the night before that she’d barely managed to get her teeth brushed, had pulled on a T-shirt and bottoms and crawled into bed without closing the blinds. Considering a pervert had been in her backyard only a few days ago, not a smart move, but one she’d blame on exhaustion.
After Cain left, she’d done a lot of soul-searching, and she realized a few things about herself. Not all of it good.
