The Summer He Came Home (15 page)

Cain took a second, tugged the blanket up to Michael’s chin, and then followed Maggie out to her small porch. He turned, his hands gripping the overhang as he stared down at her. “So,” he began, and her head snapped up as if she was startled, not expecting him to speak. She was nervous, her tongue flicking along the edge of her lips, and he felt a sharp answering tug once more.

Christ. It wasn’t fair, what this woman could do to him without even trying.

She crossed her arms over her chest and exhaled. He reached for her and caressed her cheek before his fingers sank into the thick hair and he cradled her head.

“So, Michael tells me he’s going camping with Tommy’s family this week.”

Maggie nodded, a slight frown marring her forehead.

“When’s that happening?”

“Tuesday.” Her voice was one shade past a whisper.

“Okay, Tuesday it is.” It was Sunday. He could wait until then.

“Sorry?”

Cain smiled and brushed her mouth with a soft kiss. “I’ll pick you up at five.” He let go and stepped off her porch.

“For what?”

“What else? A date.”

“Cain, wait! I don’t…are you sure that’s a good idea? I mean, we’d be in the public eye and…” She exhaled and ran her hands through her hair. “We’d be seen.”

Cain cocked his head and laughed. “Well, holy shit. I think this is the first time a woman hasn’t wanted to be seen with me.”

“No! It’s not that, I…I just…”

She was jumbling her words up, and he fought the urge to kiss her senseless. The woman was adorable. Her mouth sinful. What an amazing combination.

“Is it Michael? You don’t want him to know we’re seeing each other?”

She lowered her eyes.

“Don’t worry about him. He’ll be fine, I promise.” He paused and smiled wickedly, loving the way her tongue touched the edge of her teeth as she glanced up at him. “Maggie, we have unfinished business, you and I.” Her chest heaved, and that damn tongue was at it again. If he didn’t know better, he’d think she was the biggest tease this side of Detroit. “I’m taking you out for dinner, where I will do my best to charm the hell out of you”—he narrowed his eyes—“and then we’re going to get naked together.”

She opened her mouth but closed it again without uttering a word.

“The things I’m going to do to you, Maggie, just might be illegal in some states.”

Cain turned and headed toward his truck, keys jangling in his hands loosely. “Make sure you get lots of sleep,” he tossed over his shoulder. “Because you’re sure as hell gonna need it.”

“Do
not
cut any of that hair off!”

The loud words startled both Maggie and the hairstylist who held a good chunk of Maggie’s hair between her fingers.

It was Monday afternoon, later in the day, and A Cut Above was buzzing with clientele, stylists, manicurists, and shampoo girls. The shop was located downtown, near the clock tower, just east of the town hall. Out front every single parking space was filled, and the sun glanced off the windshields, blinding anyone who cared to look.

Maggie’s one client of the day, Annabelle Jenkins, was done—her three-bedroom bungalow only took a few hours—and on impulse, Maggie had decided to treat herself to a pedicure
and
a haircut. It had been months since she had anything done with it. In fact, the last time her locks were trimmed, it had been a work of art created by her son.

Lori Jonesberg appeared in the mirror behind her, her expression focused, intense. “I’ve had a cancellation, Sandra, so I’ll look after Ms. O’Rourke. The clean towels have just been delivered and need to be put away.”

Sandra stepped back and let Maggie’s hair fall from her fingers. “Sure, Lori.” The tone was respectful, but Maggie caught the narrowed eyes before Sandra disappeared from view.

Lori’s fingers threaded into Maggie’s hair, and she lifted the heavy weight, checking the ends thoroughly before letting the tendrils fall again. “I’ll have to take about an inch off the bottom but no more.” Her dark eyes crinkled. “They look damn good, considering you use the cheapest product on the market.”

“I…” Maggie started.

“It’s all right. You don’t have to thank me. I really did have a cancellation.” Lori winked before turning to one of the girls behind her. “Grab my tray and bring a coffee for Maggie.”

The young teen scurried to do Lori’s bidding. The owner of A Cut Above was petite, standing five foot five in her four-inch spikes, but she was a dynamo nonetheless. Maggie studied her in the mirror. She was also no longer a solid brunette. Lori’s chic cut was now dyed a deep chestnut with blond and red highlights.

“I heard the garage sale did huge business.” Lori’s gaze was still focused on her hair as she spoke.

“Uh, yes, Luke said they raised a significant amount of money.”

“That’s good,” Lori murmured as she cocked her head to the side and lifted a piece of Maggie’s hair. “So what are we doing today?” Lori frowned as she studied Maggie’s head.

“I thought a cut?”

Lori shook her head.

Maggie bit her lip “Maybe? I was thinking something different. I’ve had it long for years, and I”—she shrugged—“thought that a change could be good.” At Lori’s frown, she arched an eyebrow in question. “Or not?”

“No.” Lori shook her head again. “No, we’re not going to take much off. Trust me on this.”

Okay.
Maggie was a little unnerved at the sudden attention and the woman’s desire to make her over.

The young teen appeared at Maggie’s side just then and handed her a steaming cup of coffee. She rolled up a tray beside Lori and left as quickly as she’d come.

“We’re not?” Maggie asked.

“Nope.” Lori leaned in close to her ear. “Guys like Cain, rockers? They like their women to have long hair.”

Heat stained Maggie’s cheeks as a slow grin rolled over Lori’s face. The woman tugged on her hair. “They need something to hold on to, you know, when—”

“Lori,” Maggie interrupted, embarrassed.

The petite brunette laughed and reached into her tray. “Don’t get your knickers in a knot. I’m just teasing.” She cocked her head, and their eyes met in the mirror. “I’m right, mind you, but if you don’t want to talk about the fact that you’re having sex with Cain Black, I’m fine with that.”

“I’m not,” Maggie sputtered, suddenly aware of the glances and whispers aimed in her direction.

“Honey, don’t bother denying. Because if you haven’t done the nasty yet”—Lori held up a large swath of hair—“you will.” She fingered the piece, let it drop, and smiled at Maggie. “I’m going to add a few layers to give you some shape. Your color is gorgeous, but we’ll add some highlights, some blond and a few darker pieces. It will make the texture shimmer and add depth.”

Rebecca Stringer-Hayes strode into the salon at that moment, spied the two of them, and walked over. “Lori, I was hoping for a quick trim.” The blonde’s gaze lingered on Maggie, a cool smile in place as she adjusted her large bag across her shoulders. It was Gucci, and not a knockoff either.

Lori shrugged and secured a cape around Maggie’s neck. “The salon’s busy, Rebecca. We don’t have a lot of slots for walk-ins.”

“Kate Andrews told me she had to cancel.”

“She did, which is why I’m working on Maggie.”

Rebecca was irritated. Her glossy lips pursed tight and her foot tapped rapidly on the tile floor. “And how long will that take?”

“Long enough. If you’re desperate for a trim, sit in my chair, and Sandra will be more than happy to snip away.”

“But Sandra isn’t my person.
You
are.” The whine was nasal, and Lori grimaced.

“I suggest you make an appointment then. I have one or two openings the week after next.”

Rebecca stopped tapping her toes and gripped the edge of her purse so tightly, her knuckles were white. “You can’t fit me in for a trim.” Disbelief colored her words in a throaty layer, and Maggie shifted in the chair, uncomfortable with the other woman’s behavior and the interest they were creating.

Lori swore under her breath. “No, Rebecca, I can’t.”

“Fine, but if you have a cancellation before then, I want it.” Rebecca turned and then paused, her voice loud as she glanced over her shoulder. “I need you to stay later tomorrow, Maggie. The grout in the bathrooms is horrendous, especially around the toilets, and they’ll need to be scrubbed by hand—all four of them.”

Irritation flared inside her. Maggie looked at Rebecca through the mirror and shook her head. “I don’t visit until Wednesday afternoon, Rebecca.”

“Whatever.” Rebecca waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. “Just make sure you do them when you come. They’re a disgrace.”

Rebecca left the salon in a cloud of perfume and attitude. Maggie watched her go, amazed at how much of a cliché the woman was. Blond, skinny and…

“She’s always been a bitch. Don’t let her bother you.”

Maggie glanced at Lori in surprise.

Lori grabbed pieces of foil and pinned a large chunk of Maggie’s hair on top of her head. “Seriously. That one was born high on herself, and she’ll never change.”

The heat that sat in Maggie’s cheeks spread. She didn’t want this. She couldn’t
afford
this. Like a mind reader, Lori patted Maggie on the shoulder and leaned in close once more.

“Don’t worry about the cost. I’ll only charge you for the cut. Besides, it’s all you booked for.” She shrugged. “Not your problem I feel like playing around with your head.”

“Why are you doing this?” Maggie was curious. It wasn’t like they were great friends. They were acquaintances, had been on a few school trips together with their children.

Lori’s face softened, and she spread some of the mixture along a piece of hair before securing it inside the foil. “Most people would be shocked to know this, but I’m a fairy-tale kinda girl.” She grabbed another piece and began applying the mixture. “You just seem like someone who could use a Prince Charming in her life. And if he happens to be a rocker with to-die-for abs and a killer smile, well, that’s all the better, don’t you think?” Lori pinned that piece up and grabbed for another. “Oh, and before I forget.” Lori made a face and looked at Maggie’s toes in horror. “We’re going to redo the color. Pink passion is for old ladies. Just sayin’.”

Approximately two and a half hours later, Maggie left A Cut Above humming a tune, her steps light. Her hair was layered and highlighted with funky chunks of peekaboo color that shimmered as the wind picked up and lifted the tresses into the air. Her toes were no longer pink, but sported a vibrant navy color—one that she totally loved and kept admiring as she slowly made her way toward the bus stop.

Maggie shouldn’t have been surprised when she nearly mowed over someone—or rather not someone, but Jake Edwards. He’d just exited the bank, and she sidestepped at the last second, barely missing him.

She turned back. “Oh, Jake, I’m sorry. I…” She stopped talking. His eyebrows were furled, all scrunched up as if he was deep in thought. He nailed her with a look that was not happy. In fact, that was an understatement. Jake Edwards looked pissed off and angry as hell.

“Do you have a minute?” His voice was as sharp as his features. His mouth was tight, and she shifted beneath his steady gaze. For whatever reason, Jake Edwards made Maggie nervous. He was like an elastic band strung way too tight, and she had a feeling he was going to snap.
Soon.

She glanced at her watch. “Uh, it’s late, and Michael’s home alone. I really need to get his supper on.”

Jake strode toward her and grabbed her elbow. “Good. I’ll give you a lift. We can talk on the way.”

Okay, he was kinda scaring her now.

Maggie yanked her arm from his. Granted, the man had been through an unbelievable trauma, but that sure as hell didn’t give him the right to manhandle her or order her around.

“I can get home on my own, thanks,” she answered stiffly.

A flurry of emotion rippled across his features, and he ran his hands through the short crop of hair atop his head. The motion drew her eyes to the tattoos on his arm. They were strange symbols she couldn’t place, but one she knew—Gemini, the sign of the twins.

“I’m sorry, Maggie. I don’t mean to come across like such an ass. I just really want to talk to you about something.” He frowned and pointed to a truck parked up the way. “It’s important.”

Was he going to warn her away from Cain? Did he think she wasn’t good enough for his friend?

“God, I’m screwing this all up.” His dark eyes settled on her with a cold intensity that made her swallow and want to step back. “It’s about Raine and her cock-and-bull idea to get pregnant.”

“Oh.” She hadn’t seen that coming, and for a second was at a loss for words. “I don’t—” She started to shut him down cold, but stopped at the bleak look that crossed his features. Something inside her softened. She wasn’t wholly sure of what his relationship with his brother’s widow entailed, but from what little Raine had said, she knew it was complicated. She also knew his feelings for the widow ran deep, and she wasn’t sure they were all that appropriate. “Jake, I don’t feel comfortable discussing Raine’s personal business with you.”

His mouth shut tight and his eyes glittered. “So it’s true then,” he growled. His hands fisted and he shook his head. “Is she fucking crazy?”

He slowly unclenched his fists and let out a long shuddering breath as all emotion disappeared from his face. “All right then. Whatever,” he muttered.

A horn honked, and his name was shouted from the passing vehicle. Jake smiled and waved, but it was false. There wasn’t anything light or happy in his eyes when they returned to Maggie. “I’m sorry if I came across like an asshole. She just…” He frowned and shook his head. “Raine pushes all my buttons, ya know? And she’s not thinking straight right now. Having a kid is huge. Hell, she can’t even look after a goddamn cat, for Christ sakes. Who the hell do you think has Casper?”

Casper was the large white cat that lived at his parents’ home.

“Why don’t you tell her that?” she said softly.

Jake stared down at her for several long minutes and then shrugged. “Nah, it wouldn’t do any good. Raine always does exactly what she wants, and there’s no one who’s ever been able to convince her otherwise except Jesse. And he sure as hell ain’t around.”

Maggie didn’t know what to say to that. She hoisted her purse onto her shoulder and took a step toward the bus stop. “I’m sorry,” she said simply. “I have to run, Jake.”

“Hey, I’m still good for a lift. Sorry about being all crazy and shit. It’s been a long few weeks.” The sad attempt at a smile tugged her heartstrings, but Maggie shook her head.

“Thanks for the offer, but I like the bus.”

“You sure? Cain would kick my ass if I didn’t ask, or at least he could try.” Jake tried to make the situation light, but it only led to an awkward silence.

“I’m good, Jake, and I hope…” She cleared her throat of all the emotion that sat at the back of it and hoped he knew how sincere she was. “I hope you find some peace soon.”

He cocked his head, dug his hands into the front pockets of his jeans, and shrugged. “That’s something I gave up on a long time ago. But thanks.”

She caught her bus with minutes to spare and walked through the front door of her home into the waiting arms of her child. He’d spent the day at Holy Trinity, the local church, participating in the youth group, and he’d been dropped off an hour earlier. Maggie held her son close, even as he squirmed and tried to wriggle from her grasp.

“Hey, your toes look cool. They’re like the color of Harry.”

She glanced down into his expressive face, and tears filled her eyes as the love she felt for her son hit her in the chest. She cleared her throat. “Harry? My toes remind you of… Who’s Harry?”

“He’s a fish.” Michael giggled. “Tommy’s fish.”

Maggie snorted and ran her fingers through his curls. “Tommy has a fish?”

Michael followed her into the kitchen. “Yep, his name is Harry, and he’s a Chinese fighting fish. He’s so cool, and Tommy’s brother Zachary told me that he can’t have any friends in his tank because they’d kill each other.”

“Oh, Harry sounds just lovely.” Maggie made a face and reached in the fridge for the casserole she’d baked that morning.

“He’s not lovely. That’s a sissy word, Mom. He’s a fighter.”

“Aha.” She spooned some of the casserole onto a plate and threw it in the microwave. “Grab the milk, honey.”

By the time Michael had fetched the milk from the fridge and poured himself a glass, she had a steaming plate of food on the table.

“So, you didn’t forget that I go camping with Tommy tomorrow, right?”

“I didn’t forget.” That was an understatement.