Getting Lucky (The Portland Pioneers Book 2) (18 page)

Not many men would survive that particular kind of onslaught, Maggie thought despondently.

She sat there for what felt like seconds, but was probably minutes, trying to gather up her courage to read the stupid email. She could be working herself up for nothing, she tried to justify to herself, because what had her first, most automatic reaction been to Noah’s arrival? That Tabitha would simply reject him all over again. 

That was certainly the most Tabitha-like possibility, but then again, her sister’s quixotic moods were what made her so scarily unpredictable. 

Like a Band-Aid, Maggie told herself, just grab it and rip it off, and deal with how much it hurts later. 

She opened the email and scanned its contents. 

Mags! 

Good to hear from you. It’s been sooooooo long. 

Too long. 

And Noah, wow, that is crazy that he came there. He’s super hot, right? He’s definitely got a way of making a girl feel special, like she’s the only one he sees. 

I’m sure I know what he wants to say, but I guess if he’s so determined to say it, I should probably listen, right little sister? You know sometimes when I try to decide if something is worth doing, I’ll ask myself, what would Maggie do? And you’d definitely give him a chance to beg you to take him back, so I’ll do the same. Give him this email, would you darling? 

Gotta run. Lots to do. 

XOXOXO 

T  

Maggie sat back in her chair, the breath whooshing out of her lungs. The emotions she felt were so vast and so different. 

Love. Anger. Relief. Despair. 

It was so typical Tabitha, breezy and funny and cute, and it wasn’t so surprising that men fell at her feet. But still it was
so
careless. She’d practically admitted to not wanting him back, but at the same time still wanted him to beg for the chance? Maggie kind of hated the disgust she felt, mostly because it reminded her of how rigid Cal could be sometimes.

Of course Noah had made Tabitha feel like the only woman in the world, exactly the same as he made Maggie feel. It was her worst nightmare, come to life in Tabitha’s casual words. 

For a horrifying moment, Maggie wondered if Tabby suspected what had happened between them, and that was why she had so perfectly been able to tap into her fears. But the key to Tabitha was still
careless
, and Maggie was suddenly very, very certain that Tabitha didn’t know and wouldn’t care even if she did. 

Her words had never been intended as weapons, but they cut all the same. 

That left the most obvious question of all, Maggie decided, leaning back in the chair as she sipped her coffee. What was she going to tell Noah? She couldn’t really
keep
it from him, though deep down, in a shameful place, she wanted to.

No, Maggie resolved, she had to tell him. Today. This morning. Before she lost her resolve entirely.

The drive to the old Hutchenson place—
no
, Maggie corrected herself,
Noah’s
place—was so short it was ridiculous. Before she even knew it, she was there, parking on the street behind Noah’s Jeep. The overgrown shrubbery in the front yard was a little less jungle-like, and Maggie spied a huge pile of black garbage bags stacked on the cracked and pitted concrete driveway. While he hadn’t worked on the inside of the house much yet, she could tell Noah was really trying to fix up the yard.

She’d dressed in jeans and old sneakers and an even older navy blue sweatshirt to ward against the chilly sea breeze coming off the cliff. It might be sunny, but it was still almost December.

Stepping through the broken gate, Maggie spied Noah sitting on the same concrete slab where she’d seen him the first time she’d visited him here, with a takeout coffee in his hands.

“Hey,” she said softly, hating the way her nerves roiled in her stomach. She hated how resentful of Tabitha she felt again, as if the last ten years had magically evaporated and she was seventeen again and so horribly, awfully jealous of how beautiful and graceful and
easy
her older sister was; how Tabitha seemed to get everything by just
being
while Maggie had to work so hard for even the tiniest scraps.

But Noah wasn’t a scrap. He wasn’t something they could fight over. Maggie strengthened her resolve and plopped down next to him.

“Hey yourself,” he said, turning and grinning at her, the happiness in his face impossible to mistake.
She’d
put that there, Maggie forced herself to acknowledge,
just her
. Nobody else. “How are you this morning, Miss Maggie?”

She hadn’t told him, but she kind of adored the nickname he’d coined for her.

“I’m okay, I guess,” she said honestly. “I was surprised by something this morning.”

“Just okay?” His grin faded almost instantly and he was so suddenly worried, it might have been heart-warming if she hadn’t been so dreadfully nervous about telling him the truth.

“Tabitha emailed me,” she finally admitted, and hated the telltale tremble in her voice.

The shock on his face was genuine. He hadn’t expected an answer either, and he immediately reached over and wrapped her hand tightly in his. “What did she say?” he asked, and Maggie had to swallow a little more fear at how deceptively casual he sounded—almost as if he was deliberately trying to
not
be eager.

Maggie dug in her pocket with her other hand and pulled out the wrinkled post-it she’d scribbled Tabitha’s email address on. She held it out to him, but he just kept staring at her with his forehead puckered in confusion.

“It’s her email address,” Maggie had to explain. “She wanted you to have it.”

“I don’t understand,” he admitted.

That makes two of us
, Maggie wanted to yell at him, but she’d never been a yeller, so she just gnawed on her lower lip and tore her eyes from his face, turning towards the view and letting the sea breeze brush across her face. Noah was right, she realized as she sat there, it
did
make you feel better, even when you felt sick to your stomach.

“Maggie,” he said again.

“It’s okay,” she managed, which was pretty impressive. She wanted to give him a brilliant, carefree,
Tabitha
smile, but she knew it would come out all wobbly and wrong and prove her words were a big fat lie. “It’s really okay.”

“It’s not okay,” he said though, and that befuddled expression on his face deepened into concern. “I meant what I said the other night, at the Café. I didn’t come back here
for
Tabitha. I never wanted to win her back. I never meant to. . .” He hesitated and she almost felt better that he was struggling so much too. “I never meant to start anything with you. I didn’t come here looking for. . .”

“I know,” she said, gripping his fingers in reassurance. “You’re not a bad person. You’d never intentionally set out to hurt
anyone
.”

“Still, that was
not
why I came here, but then you were there, and you’re, well, you’re
you
,” he said and he sounded so bashful Maggie’s heart thumped a little. Which was
not
helpful.

“I
am
me,” she acknowledged with a smile, and to her relief she thought it came out okay. Not like she was going to cry, which she really wasn’t. Not at all.

“I mean,” he sighed in frustration, “I’m not doing a good job of explaining this. What I mean is that I never meant to meet you. I couldn’t have even made you up in my own mind, because I’m shit at knowing what I need. But even though we’ve just met, I want you to know that you’re important, Maggie. Important to me.”

She could tell her eyes were growing wide, and she couldn’t help the little gape of surprise she gave him. “Oh.”

He pulled her against him then, tucking her against his side, and she rested her chin on his chest. “I don’t want the email. Not today. Not tomorrow. Not ever.”

“Okay,” she said, because other words were failing her right now.

“Like, you can just throw it away,” he said, and she could tell he had that shit-eating grin on his stupidly beautiful face again and it was almost too much.

“Okay,” she repeated, making a grand gesture of crumpling the already hopelessly crunched paper in her hand and tossing it in front of them. “Done.”

“That’s so much better,” Noah said, hugging her even closer to him, and she tilted her head up so she could see him properly.

“Not quite better,” she teased, reaching up and catching his lips with hers. She’d intended the kiss to be a quick one, before they got up and made their way into the house, but he pulled her closer, and deepened the kiss.

They sat for awhile, watching the sun glint off the waves, then Maggie unwound herself from him, knowing that if they kept sitting here, nothing would ever get done.

“Eager, much?” Noah teased as she grabbed his arm and dragged him to his feet.

She rolled her eyes. “If you ever want to move out of the hotel, we need to get going.”

“Oh,” he said, with a mischievous glance in her direction, “I already checked out. This morning. Hannah, I’m sad to say, was
desolated
.”

“I bet she was,” Maggie laughed. “I bet you just ruined her day.”

“And made mine,” he said.

“Seriously, have you even been inside?” Maggie said, as he dug keys out of the pocket of his jeans. “Cal made it sound like the place was a real wreck.”

“I made a quick trip through with the realtor.” He shrugged. “Nothing was actually falling apart. Seemed okay.”

“You should have had an inspector look it over. There’s so much stuff that could be wrong that you’d never see.”

“Now
you
sound like Cal,” Noah teased. She might have defended Noah’s actions to her best friend, but what Cal had said
wasn’t
all that off, actually. He had this house now, and there could be a million things wrong with it. He might have to tear it down and build new. But then, that annoying little voice in her head chirped, he had the money to do that.

Noah unlocked the back door and they walked in. Maggie immediately cringed at the horrible musty odor as they walked through the kitchen, a thick coating of dust on the cupboards and counters, the appliances all a hideous avocado green shade. “Well, I know where you can start,” Maggie said. “These have all got to go.”

“How about I put you in charge of the kitchen?” he said, giving her a sly sideways grin. “You’re definitely the expert between us.”

“It’s just ugly
and it smells like it’s been empty for ten years, which I guess it has,” Maggie said. “So far so good.”

They moved through the hallway, to the living room. And then the smell got
worse
. Maggie tried to breathe through her mouth and not gag. “That’s. . .um. . .” She mumbled. “Not a good sign.”

“Just needs some airing out,” Noah insisted, moving to the front window and flicking the locks, yanking on the cracked plastic sill. The window wouldn’t budge and he sighed. “Okay, maybe not that window. I’ll open the front door. I know that works.”

“Great,” Maggie said with zero enthusiasm. “Something that works.”

“Hey now. No Debbie Downers,” Noah warned as he jerked open the front door, and fresh air miraculously filled the room. The smell was just as bad though, and Maggie crinkled her nose in disgust.

“So what should we do first?” Noah asked.

“This carpet,” Maggie said, gingerly picking up one foot and the other. “It’s disgusting.” She was half-convinced at least
some
of the smell must be coming from the crunchy, stained mess under her feet.

“Agreed. The shag has got to go. You know, I’ll call a dumpster. We can rip up carpeting, right? It can’t be that hard.”

Maggie shot him a dubious look. “If you say so.”

“And the wallpaper too,” Noah said, gesturing to the obnoxious green and beige cabbage rose patterned paper in the living room. “You could do that while I do the carpeting.”