Tell Me a Secret (14 page)

Just a few more weeks before graduation. Until a couple of months ago, her future seemed in place. Now, it stretched out like a lonesome highway, taut with repressed feelings, and strained by a stupid attraction.

She’d given more thought to Zach Roberts’ offer. Although not interested in an administrative position or a relationship, there would be a job opportunity in Temple and she should consider moving. She still had her mother’s house, so relocating would be easy.

Placing her laptop across her legs, she googled the medical center.
Scott-White, ranked one of the top one hundred facilities and one of the top fifteen teaching hospitals in the United States.

Maybe she’d been too hasty in her refusal. When she got to work the next day, she’d tell Zach she still wasn’t interested in the directorial situation, but was willing to consider a nursing opportunity. He could put in a good word for her and perhaps secure a straight day-shift.

She glanced at the clock. Nine-forty-five. Jace and his family were back in town by now. Jared mentioned their plane arrived at nine.
Jared. Hmm
. Why couldn’t Jace be more like him? She doubted the older brother had ever been a man-whore. He seemed to be like his dad—a one woman man.

“I could have been that woman,” she said to Aphrodite, as the cat snuggled against her.

Maggie didn’t want to put it off any longer. She picked up her phone and called Elizabeth to cancel the weekly dinners. She didn’t want to lie, but she didn’t want to spend any more time than necessary with Jace. Better to get it over while she had the courage.

After a conversation about the game and excitement of seeing John and Elizabeth on TV, Maggie begged off on the suppers. She managed not to lie by telling Elizabeth she needed to study for finals.

Logging off the computer, she closed her journal, crossed the room to the bureau and removed red silk pajamas. The fabric slid against smooth skin and the color red made her feel sexy. A glass of wine was a good idea, so she went into the kitchen, took a stemmed goblet from the cupboard and a bottle of Cabernet from the wine rack, then walked into the bathroom.

After a relaxing bubble bath, she dressed in pj’s and headed to the laundry room with bottle and glass in hand. Even sexy women had to fold clothes.

She poured more wine and recalled her conversation with Zach over dinner as he explained all the foods and drinks he didn’t consume. Compared to him, she was a food floozy. She laughed out loud and sipped. He’d probably want me to give up wine along with sodas, tea, lemons, meat. Lord, the list is endless.

She set down the bottle and her drink, then opened the dryer door. Like the kitchen, the laundry room was bigger than most. Whoever designed the house knew where a woman spent the greatest amount of time. If she did move, she’d miss this place. It contained more wonderful memories than the Abilene house. She could go ahead with the sale and buy something else. A new home. A new start. A new job.

Taking out the garments, she dumped them into a basket and laid the bottle of wine and glass on top. She balanced the hamper on her hip and side-stepped through the door into the living room, then plopped onto the sofa.

Even though Elizabeth had been gracious about the cancelled dinners, Maggie was ashamed. The wine eased some of that guilt. She finished off the glass and poured another.
Silk pajamas, wine—music
. That’s what she needed. Music.

The second shelf of the bookcase was dedicated to compact discs. She ran her finger along the titles and considered the choices. No love songs for sure. Maybe Miranda Lambert, a Texas girl with attitude. Maggie put the CD in the player and thought how she should invest in modern technology, but her old Bose system still sounded wonderful. Once the music started, she danced, sipped and sang along with
Gun Powder and Lead.

When the tune ended, a slower selection started and she returned to the couch to catch her breath.

She lolled back her head and closed her eyes. She didn’t know if it was the alcohol or Miranda’s boldness rubbing off, but it felt pretty damn good. She downed another glass and noticed the bottle almost empty. There came a tap-tap-tap at the front door.
Did Sarah forget her key?

Maggie looked through the peep-hole and gasped. She straightened, gathered her wits and yanked open the door. There on the porch, in the moonlight, grinning like he’d come to claim her soul, stood Jace.

She scowled. “What are you doing here? Don’t you have some crops to sow?”

“Why the hell won’t you answer my texts?” He pushed passed her.

She closed the door and twirled to face him. “Won’t you come in?”
To hell with him
. She felt wonderful. Sexy from the silk, warm from the wine and powerful from Miranda. “My phone is in the other room. I turned it off, so I didn’t know you were
sexting
—I mean texting. “Or were you
sexting
?” She giggled.

He tightened his jaw. “Are you drunk?”

Her tongue, thick in her mouth, worked hard to push out the words. “No, I’m fine. I’m fine as wine—that rhymed—rhymed rhymes too!” She threw her head back and laughed. “That’s funny. I crack me up.”

“Oh my God. You
are
drunk.”

She ignored him, walked back to the sofa and resumed folding.

Without invitation, he followed and sat next to her. “Did you see the game or have you been drunk all day?”

“I’m not drunk. I barely have a buzz. I saw some of the game. A little here and a little there,” she singsonged, pointing her finger first to one side of the room and then the other. “You made a great catch. Oh! And I saw your mom and dad on TV. I waved to them.”

He focused on the stack of clothes, then picked up a pair of bikini panties and swung them from his finger. “Are these yours?”

She snatched them away. “What’s wrong? You think lacey underwear is only for sluts?” She wagged a finger in his face. “FYI, smart girls like racy lingerie too.”

“I didn’t mean to insult you. I’m just surprised. I guess I didn’t figure you’d wear something so—skimpy.”

Her face burned. “Well, I do.” One by one, she dangled a pair in front of him and raised her voice an octave. “I have black and leopard. Hot pink and lime green. Zebra and turquoise. Oh, and let’s not forget the bras! Here’s a red one. And a black one. Please notice they’re French cups. You’ve seen plenty of those. Oui?”

He held the wine bottle up to the light. “Was this full when you started?”

“Yeah. You want some? I have more.”

He laughed. “Damn, this is a surprise. I’d been willing to bet you’d never been drunk in your life.”

“You think I’m little miss goody-two-shoes.” She poked his chest. “Well, I can drink and I can wear sexy panties and I can—I can—I can do all the other—stuff.” Her hand punctuated the air. “You’re pissing me off.” Unsteady on her feet, she straightened to full height and stomped into the bedroom.

He followed.

Lying on the bed, she stared into blank space. The room spun. She wanted to get rid of him. “Don’t you have curfew?”

“It’s Saturday. I just played a game. No, I don’t.”

Her lashes fluttered and she yawned. “Well, all of a sudden I’m tired. You need to leave.”

He sat on the opposite side of the bed, toed out of his boots, propped pillows behind his head and leaned back. “I’m not going until you’re not mad anymore. I should have known after seeing you dance at the recital in those costumes you’d wear sexy underwear. Christmas is coming. Hell, I’ll even buy you some.”

Rolling up on an elbow, she rested her face in hand, then squinted. “Have you ever bought lingerie for a girl?”

“No.”

She flopped back against the pillow. “Good. Then buy me some.”

He laughed and scooted lower until flat against the mattress. “Tell me a secret while you’re drunk.”

She pulled the neck of her pajamas away from her body and peered inside the top. “I wish my boobs were bigger.”

He snorted a laugh so hard the bed shook. “Every woman wants bigger boobs. That’s not a secret.”

Her head spun like a balloon caught on a high-line. “Nuh-uh. Some women get reduction mammoplasty to make them smaller.”

“Focus, Maggie. Tell me a secret.”

“If I do, will you leave?”

“Yes.”

She remained silent for a minute, then sighed. “Since I’ve been studying with you, I’m insecure all the time. Maybe because you have such a wonderful family and I’m afraid I’ll never have one, or because you’re just so beautiful and perfect. I look at you and forget how to breathe. All I know is I’m miserable and I don’t know what to do about it.”

She waited for him to say something and when he didn’t she looked at him. His eyes were closed. “Jace? Did you hear me?”

“I’m beautiful and perfect,” he mumbled.

“Really? I bare my soul and all you get is the part about
you
being beautiful and perfect? Unbelievable.”

Black as the devil, hot as hell, pure as an angel, sweet as love.

~ Charles Maurice de Talleyrand

Maggie opened one eye. Her temples pounded. Her lungs constricted. She tried to raise her arms, but couldn’t. Opening the other eye, she lifted her head and peered at her torso. A hairy arm draped her upper body. A hand cupped her breast. She snapped around so fast, the motion wrenched her neck. On the pillow next to her, Jace slept like a baby.

Overcome with panic, she tried to remember last night. Her heart raced. Sweat beaded on her forehead. Fuzzy words flooded her brain.
Wine. Clothes. Lingerie. Jace
. Holding her breath, she eased her feet to the floor and slid off the bed as if she were boneless.

Mind spinning, she halted in her tracks.
Okay. Folding laundry. He arrived. I showed him all my panties. Oh God! I showed him my panties!

She strained to swallow but her mouth had gone dry. Pressing fingers to her temples she stretched her eyes into narrow slits.
Oh God. Oh God. Let this be a dream.
She raised enough to peek over the edge of the bed. No. He was still there.

Think. Think. Blame it on the wine. Blame everything on the wine. People say and do things they wouldn’t normally do when they’re drunk. Clearly, she had too much to drink. The bass drum in her head confirmed it.

Two attempts to drink in high school proved her body didn’t metabolize liquor the way it should. Yet, she’d ignored that detail and emptied the bottle.

Okay, showing him my underwear wasn’t all that
…she stopped herself short.
Oh dear Lord. Did I tell him to buy me panties for Christmas?

Petrified by the realization, she brought her knees to her chest. At least they were both still clothed. That was a good thing, because if sex ever happened between them, she sure as hell wanted to remember it. She gasped and recalled the
secret
. Thank heavens he’d fallen asleep and didn’t hear her rattle off her confession.

Pushing up on all fours, she began to crawl across the floor toward the bathroom. If she could just make it…

“Good morning, Sunshine. What are you doing down there?”

She froze in place. Even before she looked at him, she could hear the wicked grin. Why was he even here? Simple answer. After the football game, too tired for sex, he still needed a woman to stroke his ego.

She flipped to a sitting position and tried to sound convincing. “I’m playing a game with Dydee. We do this sometimes. She likes it.”

Jace stretched taller and glanced around the room. “Where is she?”

“Under the bed. That’s how we play. I coax her to come out by pretending to be another cat.” Maggie’s heart slammed against her ribs. The story even sounded ridiculous to her.

He fluffed a pillow, stuck it behind his head and elevated his voice. “Here, kitty, kitty, kitty.”

Aphrodite appeared, pressed a paw onto the bed and he picked her up. “That’s much easier don’t you think?”

Maggie prayed to disappear or better yet, make him vanish, but decided to do the next best thing. Ignore him. She raised herself to full height and headed toward the bathroom. “I’ve got to get ready for work.”

He laughed, then called after her. “Hey, I know I said I’d visit the hospital next week, but what if I come today? That okay?”

“Of course. I work seven to three. Come anytime.”

At one o’clock Jace showed up at Covenant with the swagger, the eyes, and the attitude, looking like a sex buffet. Maggie watched him approach.
I’ll have some lips and hands, and all of his
…
get a grip. What’s wrong with me? I must be ovulating.
 

When he saw her, he smiled. She got hot all over but managed to pull herself together.

“The children’s ward is on the fourth floor. The nurses expect you.” She checked her watch. “I’ll see you there in a few minutes.” He strolled away and she stared after him until he was out of sight, then sucked in a deep breath.
Satan has claimed my soul and I’m headed straight to hell.

 
~~*~~
 

Jace’s last stop was Jimmy Perkins, fourteen-year-old cancer patient. Blond, brown eyed, lanky, teetering on the edge of manhood, and according to Maggie, her favorite.