A Roast on Sunday (11 page)

“Wait,” she called.

He shut the door, turned the key in the ignition and wound down the window. “Yes?” 

“Fine.”

“Fine what?”

“Fine
, you can take me home.”

“Funny, I never heard the word please anywhere in that sentence.”

She took a deep breath and counted to five before answering. “You want me to beg?”

“No, I want you to use your manners.”

“What am I, five?”

“You tell me. You certainly act that
age sometimes.”

Outside the temperature had dropped, and Maggie was still dressed for the warm afternoon sun. Her bare shoulders shivered.

“
Please
can you take me home,” she said through clenched teeth.

“That’s better,” he grinned. “Hop on in.”

In the truck he turned the heater on low and the warm air from the vents made her feel drowsy. She rested her head against the headrest and closed her eyes, lulled by the gentle sound of the tyres turning on the road.

“Here,” he said.

She opened her eyes, annoyed at the intrusion, and saw he was holding out an unopened bottle of water.

“
No thanks.”

“You’ll feel better in the morning if you drink this now.”

“I’m not drunk, if that’s what you’re implying.”

“Would I dare?”

“For your information, I nursed the same drink for the last two hours. It’s Harper you should be worried about. She’ll be suffering tomorrow for sure.”

“Still, you might be parched from all that,
singing
.” He said it looking ahead with a straight face but still she thought she could hear the echo of laughter in his voice.

“Are you making fun of me?” she asked.

“Again, would I dare do that?”

Now that he had
bought it up all she could feel was a scratching in the back of her throat. She coughed and when that didn’t clear the itch she begrudgingly took the water.

“Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“What were you doing at the bar this late anyway?”
she asked after taking a long swig from the bottle. He was right; the water instantly revived her parched veins.

“Your mother called
and asked me to make sure you got home ok.”

Maggie was mortified. “She did?” She leant back in her seat again and shook her head.

“That interfering woman,” she said grumpily.

“
Come on, that’s a bit harsh,” Jack frowned. “She was worried about you. Said you’re not normally a big drinker.”

“What else did she say?”

He shrugged. “Nothing.”

Her eyes narrowed.
“I don’t believe you. Spill.”

“She
might have mentioned that you struggle a little bit this time of year.”

Maggie was furious.
“Oh yeah? And did she happen to mention why?” If her mother had told Jack about Jon she would kill her.

“No she didn’t,
” he took his eyes off the road for a second and looked at her. “I promise you that’s all she said.” But even though he sounded sincere she wasn’t sure whether or not to believe him.

“How
could she?” she asked, more to herself than him.

“
She was just concerned for you. She is your mother after all, it’s her job. Tell me you wouldn’t be the same if it was Willow who needed help.”

“I don’t need your help. I
most certainly didn’t ask for it.”

“So you would have been ok walking home
in the dark this late by yourself?”

“I would have found my own way home, yes.”

“You want me to let you out here?” he slowed the car down slightly. She glared at him, aware that he held all the cards at that moment.

“God you are so annoying,” she said. “How could she even think I’d be interested in you?”

His eyebrows shot up.

“You’re interested in me?”

“No!”

“But you just said -?”

“That’s not what I said and you know it. I said
my mother
likes you.”

“Your mother is interested in me?”

“Stop it!”

“Stop what?”

“Stop misreading my words on purpose.”

“Sorry,” he grinned again.

He turned onto the road that led out of town and towards her house. She studied him sideways out of the corner of her eye without him knowing. She could only see a murky profile because of the darkness, but whether it was the absence of light, or the drinks she’d consumed, when she looked at him she suddenly wondered what it would be like to kiss his full lips. She traced the outline of them with her eyes and found herself biting down hard on her own lip as she imagined it.

“Oh my god, snap out of it,”
she told herself, closing her eyes and shaking her head.

“Sorry?”

“Nothing.”

“
Right. So is it your mother or you who is interested in me? I’m confused.”

“Neither of us
and you know it.”

“I don’t know anything when it comes to you Maggie Tanner,” he took his eyes off the road again and studied her.
“But I’d love the opportunity to find out.”

For once she had no retort, so she leant her head back and closed her eyes again, pretending to do
ze off. When she knew his attention was back on the road she let her eyes open. She watched his hand as he expertly flicked through the gears. He had large hands, broad across the top and with long fingers. She remembered when those fingers had connected with hers and the jolt she’d felt. God why was she even thinking of things like this? She squeezed her eyes shut and turned her head towards the window. It was all Harpers fault, with all her talk of sex and how long it had been.

The sound underneath the tyres changed and she realised they had turned onto the gravel road. She felt disappointment
that the ride was over so soon.

“We’re here,” he said softly, pulling up to the front of the house and turning off the engine.

She pretended to wake from her snooze and yawned, stretching.

“I suppose I should say thank you.”

“That’s what normal people do, yes.”

“
Thanks.” She said the word reluctantly.

“You’re welcome.”

She got out of the car and was two steps towards the house when she heard footsteps behind her. She whirled around and came smack up against his chest.

“
And where do you think you’re going?” she demanded.

He sighed. “I was seeing you safely to your door. It’s what a gentleman does.”

“As if
you
would know
anything
about gentlemanly behaviour.”

“Now see, I resent that. You haven’t even given me a chance to show you any of my various charms.”

The way he said it the words came out loaded like sexual innuendo bullets. He was standing so close she could feel his breath again, hot on her face. The smell of his cologne warmed by his body was enveloping her. She knew she couldn’t think straight when she was so close to him but still she didn’t step away. Instead she decided to play him at his own game and she stepped even closer, letting her own heady mix of sweet body smells mingle with his. Earthy Sandalwood and sweet vanilla combined together and created a haze that swirled around them.

“You think you’re so irresistible, don’t you?”
she whispered, looking up at him from under her eyelashes. She bit one corner of her lip seductively.

He groaned gently. “
You’re driving me crazy,” he whispered.

“And how am I doing that?”

“You know exactly how,” he fired back, his eyes boring into hers. “You’ve woven some kind of spell on me and I can’t get you out of my head.”

Maggie laughed softly, “I’
ve done no such thing.”

“Then why
is your face the first thing I picture when I wake, and the last thing I think about when I try to go to sleep. Why do I lie there half the night, awake, tossing and turning and imagining what it would be like to kiss you, to touch you.”

Maggie swallowed. This wasn’
t a game anymore. His eyes were serious, and the way they searched probingly into hers made her body want to relax against him and let him soothe all her troubles away.

“
We can’t do this,” she said.

“Do what?” he whispered, his face dipping towards hers, his lips gently brushing over her forehead then her cheeks, tantalising and teasing her skin and her senses. She could hold back no longer and she reached up with her hands and pulled his head
down towards hers hungrily. They kissed long and hard, not a gentle movie star kiss, rather something primal, lots of gnashing teeth, tongues and bruised lips, as if they were trying to clamber as far inside each other as they could.

M
aggie had forgotten just how wonderful a really good kiss could be.

Finally
they were forced to break for breath, and with the inhale of cool air Maggie remembered where she was, and realised what she was doing and who she was doing it with. How could she want someone so much when he drove her insane almost every time she saw him?

He reached for again but s
he pushed him away. “No, stop.”

He paused
. “What’s wrong?”

“We can’t do this.”

“Why not?”

And for the life of her she couldn’t think of a satisfactory answer for that question. So she
gave in and let him pull her back in for more. Minutes later it was he who pulled away.

“No,” he said,
holding her out at arm’s length.

“What’s wrong?”

“We can’t do this.”

“Why not?”
She was angry he was throwing her words back at her when she had so successfully overcome them.

“Y
ou’ve been drinking, I don’t want you to wake up tomorrow and think I took advantage.”

She stamped a foot. “How many times
must I tell you I’m not drunk.”

He sighed and shuddered as longing ran its fingers lightly down his spine.

“Still,” he said, “you have been drinking.”

“I know how to prove it to you,” she
declared. “Hold up one finger.”

Amused, h
e did as she instructed.

“Now,” she said. “Ask me how many fingers you’re holding up.”

He laughed.

“Go on, ask me,” she insisted.

“How many fingers am I holding up?” he asked, amused. He had become accustomed to her being so serious all the time, so to see this lighter side was refreshing.

“One,” she de
clared triumphantly. “Just one. Now if I was drunk would I be able to see straight like that?”

“
I get the feeling you might have cheated,” he laughed again, pulling her back in against him, enjoying the way her body slotted in against his like two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle.

“Never,” she shook her head, “I’m as straight up as they come.”

He stepped back slightly and looked her up and down.

“Straight up?
Looks to me like you go in and out in quite a few interesting places.”

She groaned. “Don’t ruin this moment by saying corny crap like that.”

“Corny? I’ll have you know my charms go down a treat with the ladies back in the big smoke.”

“Well
us country girls are a little more discerning.”

He touched her bottom lip with his fingers, marvelling at the dark ruby
colour his kiss had left it.

“I thought you hated me,” he said.

“Hate is a strong word.”

“So you don’t hate me?” he bit her lip ever so gently.

She moaned and pressed against him. God this felt insanely good, better than she’d ever remembered. She couldn’t stop now. Why not give in and let herself have one night of fun? Prove to Harper and the others that she wasn’t completely against letting loose once in awhile. Who would it hurt? Not a soul, that’s who. They were both consenting adults. Consenting, turned on adults. Why deprive themselves?

“Come with me,” she told him, taking his hand and leading him up the steps.

He pulled her hand and stopped her. She turned to him.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked, “completely, one hundred percent, not-going-to-regret-it in the morning sure?”

She dropped his hands and peeled her top off over her head as an answer, dropping it to the deck beside her.

“Just fun,” she breathed huskily. “No strings attached, right?”

He gulped at the black lacy bra and expanse of skin now available for his viewing pleasure.