She couldn’t speak for a moment. “But what about Boston? You work here. You live here.” His whole family had always been here.
Jack shrugged. “Too damn crowded, if you ask me. I’ll commute.” He pulled himself up next to her. “Does that mean you’re saying yes?”
Maggie didn’t know what she was saying. She shot a look at her brother. “You knew,” she said, pointing an accusing finger.
“Jack let me in on his plan, yeah.”
“Oh, and Dillon’s going to landscape the place for you. For us,” Jack added. “As a wedding present. He’s the best in the city, from what I hear.”
“Listen, I’m gonna get some coffee, leave you two alone.” Dillon stretched to a stand. He planted a kiss atop Maggie’s head.
“I’ll join you,” Eden replied, and Maggie didn’t have to look to see her best friend’s glow as the two walked out together. Dillon had always attracted women, even when he wasn’t trying, and to Maggie’s tired eye, it looked like he’d kept himself in shape. Eden went for tattoos, anyway, and she’d seen more than one poking out from underneath his shirt sleeves.
When did you get those, big brother?
she wondered. There was so much about him she didn’t know
.
She couldn’t wait to fill in the details and patch up the missing pieces of Dillon inside her heart.
Jack reached for her then. He stroked the curls that tumbled around her face, and Maggie forgot about everything else. His eyes, halfway to hazel in the fluorescent lights above them, drank her in. He started to say something, but this time she stopped him. Maggie pulled Jack close, parting his lips with her tongue and unbuttoning his shirt. Her hands slipped inside and caressed taut muscles, feeling them flex under her touch. She felt goose bumps and smiled.
You do that to me too
, she thought. He touched her hair, her cheeks, her breasts. She closed her eyes and saw circles of colors inside them; a wave of passion broke all the way up inside her throat.
“Mags.” The word was a love song, a murmur, a filling up of the hole that had existed inside her for so long.
Why didn’t I know? Why didn’t I realize that Jack was the one thing I needed to feel whole again?
“You never answered me,” he said, trailing his tongue up to her earlobe.
She wasn’t sure she could now, either. In another minute, they’d be consummating the marriage before the ceremony, right there in the hospital bed. She supposed it didn’t matter. She and Jack had belonged to each other for so long that ceremony seemed secondary. When she looked at him, she saw Vegas sunshine. New York City. A Boston skyline. A little girl of fifteen, a coed of twenty, a woman of thirty. They all belonged to him, all the pieces of her. Everything she’d been and everything she wanted to be. Twenty-four hours, ten years, or a lifetime—their hearts had been seeking each other forever.
“Yes,” she whispered. Maggie tasted Jack’s tongue again, felt his arms around her, saw his gaze across a ballroom filled with light and wanted the midnight rain to fall on her forever, so long as he stood there beside her.
About the Author
When Allie Boniface isn’t writing about the power of love or exploring the complexities of the human heart, she’s working as a high school English teacher in the northern NYC suburbs, where she lives with her husband Todd. To learn more about
Allie
, please visit
www.allieboniface.com
.
A star quarterback has one weekend to reclaim the woman who sacked his heart. Or get her out of his system once and for all.
The Last Thing I Wanted
© 2007 Heather Rae Scott
Only for her best friend, and for charity, would Tory Sinclair set herself up to possibly meet Mr. Wrong in a takeoff of The Dating Game. She never expected that Mr. Wrong would turn out to be Mr. The One Who Got Away.
After Tory disappeared five years ago without a word of explanation, Gabe Matheson never expected—or wanted—to see her again. But with the entire city watching, and his career on the line, how could he refuse?
When they’re thrown together in a situation that forces them to bare their souls, their secrets—and a few other things as well—Tory and Gabe quickly realize that fate might have given them the last thing they wanted. But it could be exactly what they needed.
Enjoy the following excerpt for
The Last Thing I Wanted:
“What in the hell are you doing?”
Her features twitched. “You can’t leave me out there alone.”
She was insane. “You can’t wait in here.”
“Why not? I won’t peek.”
He cursed under his breath as she locked the door and turned her back to him.
“Want me to whistle?” she asked
“What?”
“You know, whistle—so you can pee.”
“No.”
Tory turned her head slowly to look at him. “I figured this would be okay—”
“And why did you think that?”
She held her hands out, palms up. “Because you pee around grown men all the time, you know, when you share the locker room.” She dropped her hands by her side.
“Tory, you need to get out.”
She shook her head, and then turned to face the door again. “Pretend I’m not here.”
“But you
are
here.” She made him want to hit something. Maybe it’d be different if she wanted to come in here to join the mile-high club, but she hadn’t. Had she? Maybe this was some ulterior motive. He’d soon find out. “Can you wait outside?”
“What if the guy who’s been eyeballing me comes back here—naked?”
“I think you can handle it. Besides,” he said, trying to rationalize with her, “if you went back to your seat and he approached you, you could pretend to be sleeping.”
He could tell by her expression she didn’t buy his suggestion. “I feel safer in here,” Tory said and turned back towards the door. “I can hum.”
“You can what?”
“Grace can’t go to the bathroom with someone in the room unless you hum.”
“I’m not Grace. I’m your other best friend.”
“I know.”
She flushed.
Good!
This was ridiculous. There was no reason why he couldn’t do his thing with her behind him. It was obvious she wasn’t going to leave. “Fine,” he said and opened the toilet and did what he had to, then flushed. “Do I need to zip up?”
Tory snapped her head in his direction. “Excuse me?”
He bit back a snicker. “I figured since you were in here—since we were both in here—you might want to christen your first flight by joining the mile-high club.”
“And what is that exactly?”
He chucked. “You don’t know?” He zipped his pants.
She crossed her arms protectively against her chest. “No.”
“People have sex in the bathroom,” he told her. “Only it’s on a plane, a mile above the ground.
Mile-high
? Get it?”
The expression on her face was priceless. “How do they have sex in this confined space?”
“Wanna find out?”
“You’ve had sex in here?”
“No. Not in
this
bathroom,” he teased.
She shook her head.
“Don’t look all disgusted, Tory. Normal people do it all the time.”
“So, you’re saying I’m not normal?”
“No. That isn’t what I said at all.” He slipped past her to wash his hands and avoid her pained expression.
“How
do
you do it in here?” she asked him, moving a few inches to stand directly behind him.
His pulse quickened. “Writing a book?” He met her reflection in the mirror, could feel her breath permeating through his shirt. He felt Tory’s eyes travel over him and found himself sinking again.
“You haven’t answered me,” she said softly.
He reached out to toy with the gold hoop in her lobe and watched her catch her bottom lip between her teeth. “I don’t know—I’ve never qualified for mile-high membership. Satisfied?” He winked. “Want to help me gain membership?”
Tory swallowed—hard. She stood there motionless. The brush of his fingertips against her neck made every nerve ending come alive. He was right there for the taking. If she leaned in a bit closer she could have her mouth on his, she could taste him, feel him—
More turbulence. With a thud, she slammed into him. Tory blinked. This was insane. Suddenly, the warm confines of the bathroom were just as dangerous as the naked people outside the door
. Time to go
. Only Gabe blocked her way.
Tory shivered. “We should…someone might want to use the lavatory.”
“You running again?”
Hell, yeah
. “No, I was simply stating—”
His mouth swallowed her words. His kiss felt slow and thoughtful at first. He cupped her face in his hands tenderly, coaxing her to open her mouth and let him in. When his tongue pushed past her lips, Tory moaned and melted into him. The heady taste of whiskey enveloped her as their tongues danced. Blood pounded in her brain, leapt from her heart and made her knees tremble.
When he pulled away, she buried her head in his neck. She whispered a kiss there, making him groan. His finger went under her chin, persuading her to look at him. When she did, he reclaimed her lips. Her insides turned right-side-out when he caressed the small of her back with his fingers. She could feel his growing need against her abdomen, his rapid heartbeat beneath her palm. Just for now, she wanted to live in the moment.
Gabe’s mouth left hers and landed soft, fiery kisses behind her ear, neck and trailed down the base of her throat. God, how she missed this. She trembled. If she gave herself to him again, there’d be no turning back. This had to stop. But his touch held magic, setting her body on fire. His kisses opened a familiar world for her. How could something so wrong feel this damned good?
Life, love and unlikely legacies.
Reversing Over Liberace
© 2007 Jane Lovering
Willow runs into Luke, the university lust-of-her-life, ten years on and this time around he’s interested––she’s lost twenty pounds and found fashion. But their meeting turns out to be no accident. What is Luke
really
after, Willow or her new inheritance?
Her best mate Cal is gorgeous and…well…
gay.
Then reveals himself to be more than a mild, unassuming computer geek and she is no longer sure exactly
who
is telling the truth or who to trust.
Is anyone in her life what they seem to be?
Add to the romantic confusion, twelve pairs of rubber boots, two elderly spaniels, a pregnant sister and the unexpected contents of a matchbox and you get a funny, touching story of a woman in search of revenge and getting what she needs, rather than what she thinks she wants.
Enjoy the following excerpt for
Reversing Over Liberace:
“Luke?” Katie was waiting when I put the phone down, her scandalometer clearly reading into the red. “What’s happened?”
“Nothing, nothing,” I trilled. “Well, not exactly, we just had a bit of a misunderstanding, that’s all.”
“Oh, right, about him moving out of the hotel and stopping at the showroom instead?”
“Ah, no. This was another misunderstanding. A different one.” Buoyed up and riding on the tide of goodwill that Luke’s admission had brought, I told Katie the full background to last night’s little, ahem, indiscretion on the lip frontage. When I’d finished, she frowned.
“Do you and Luke ever actually, y’know,
talk
, Wills? Or do you spend all your off-duty time shagging and communicating in mime?”
“What?”
“You do seem to have an extraordinary number of
misunderstandings
, don’t you? For a couple who are supposed to be so deeply in love that they’re planning to get
married
, there’s a lot he doesn’t seem to tell you about. And, please God, if you’re going around kissing strange men, the reverse is also true.”
“Cal…it wasn’t…it wasn’t
that
sort of kiss.” I said indignantly. “And of course Luke and I talk, don’t be stupid. It’s just, you know how prone I am to grabbing the wrong end of the stick and using it to beat myself.”
“Yes, but the stick does have to be held out for you to grasp in the first place.” Katie put her hands on my shoulders and looked me deep in the eyes. “I’m worried about you, Will. Okay, so Luke might have good reasons for all the misconstructions that have gone on, but it’s more that they’ve happened than what they’ve been about that worries me.”
“Well, my dear, worry no more.” I twirled around on my chair. “I’m going to suggest to Luke that we move into the flat next week and start living together properly. It can’t be comfortable for him camped out in the showroom, and we might as well start getting it all together. How do you feel about wearing peach for the wedding?”
“Will, if it makes you happy I shall wear a whole fruit salad,” she said solemnly.
“Willow.” The door opened and Neil came in. “Bloke for you in the front.”
“Good Lord, it speaks. Evolution in action.”
“Shut it, frosty knickers.”
“What, Clive not with you? Was the separation a success?”
“And you can shut up an’ all.” Neil grinned. “Dunno ’oo he is. Some weirdo. Bit of luck, he’s a mad axe murderer.”
He wasn’t. It was Cal, loitering about in the front office, looking at the photographs on the walls. (Man Rescues Tortoise—Pictures Inside.) “Hi.”
“Hello.” Katie was hanging around by my left shoulder like a conscience-devil. “How are you?”
“Fine. I came to…” Cal clocked Katie and began to stammer. “I…I…you, yesterday…quite…upset.”
“Everything’s sorted now, just another misunderstanding,” I said smoothly. Well, I could have belched every word and next to Cal’s delivery it would have sounded smooth. “Cal, Katie.”
“Oh, so
this
is the guy with the lip action. Pleased to meet you, Cal.” And Katie turned round to face me and half-whispered, “Fuck me, Willow, you didn’t tell me he was such a
ride
. I mean, look at him.”
“Forgive my friend, Cal, she has a form of Tourette’s. We normally keep her locked up for her own good.”
Cal smiled broadly and Katie went “phwooooarrrr” in my ear. “Chuffin’ hell, will you look at the eyes on your man?”
“And she’s Irish. Happily married. Quite respectable.”
Katie leaned over the desk towards Cal. “But prepared to be unrespectable, if the offer’s right.” She pursed her lips and Cal’s smile grew slightly broader.
“Are you any good with goats?”
“Um.”
“So, that’s a ‘no’ then.” I hustled Katie to one side with my elbows. “It’s fine, Cal. I’ve spoken to Luke, he’s explained. It was something personal.”
“Anyway. The brother in Boston? I’ve got the phone number, if you wanted to ring and introduce yourself.”
“What a great idea.” Katie derailed the nearest elbow and slotted herself in beside me again.
“Have you got something in your eye?” I asked her suspiciously.
“No, I’m fluttering my eyelashes, can’t you tell?”
“I don’t think Cal’s impressed by fluttering eyelashes, Katie.”
“No, but I’m mightily impressed by anyone who can move my goat.”
Katie’s appraising stare narrowed. “Is that some sort of code, Willow? Is he chatting you up in code? Because if he is, that’s really unfair. No one chats me up in code, not even Dan—not that he chats me up anymore. Doesn’t even chat much, if you want to know the truth. He sort of grunts and points. I think he learned it off the twins.”
Cal and I shared a baffled shrug. “So, do you want to call him now? You can borrow my mobile.”
“Well, not right this second. I mean, I’m at work and everything and it’ll be the middle of the night in Boston, won’t it? Tonight. I’ll do it tonight.”
“Why are you putting it off?” He tipped his head on one side. “Are you worried about what he might say?”
“No! I told you, Luke and I have sorted everything out. If I ring James and he tells Luke that I called, then it looks as if I’ve gone behind his back and don’t trust him.”
“But you
don’t
, do you?” The words dropped into a clanging silence. I stared at Katie who didn’t even look ashamed of herself. “Come on, Willow. If you trusted him, he wouldn’t need to explain himself to you because the situations would never arise in the first place. I mean”—her voice became gentler—“you know I love you, Wills, but you can be a complete and utter zombo where men are concerned.”
“Is that a real word?” Cal asked.
“It is on Planet Katie,” I answered, a little bitterly. “Kate, you’re warping things again. Luke and I are fine. We…oh, sod the pair of you. Give me the number, Cal. I’ll call after lunch when it’s a civilised time in Boston. Katie can earwig all she likes to make sure I ask the right questions. There. Are you both happy now?”
The two of them agreed that, yes, in this instance they were fairly satisfied with my reply, and Cal left the office, Katie watching his every move. When she noticed his limp, her eyebrows almost twanged.
“Christ Jesus, he even manages to make
that
look sexy. Aw, do an old married woman a favour. Before you marry Luke, shag Cal just the once”—a libidinous look—“and tell me
all
about it.”
“
Katie!
I will do no such thing. Anyway, Luke’s sexy too, isn’t he?”
She stopped boiling over and switched down to simmer. “Yeah, he’s sexy, too. But it’s different with Luke. He’s macho sexy, all swagger and cock-first into a room. Your man there, you can tell he’s the kind who’ll make you wait, then lick you till you’re screaming.”
A pause while we thought about this.
“You really do need to get out more, don’t you?”
“Tell me about it,” she sighed.