Can't Stop Loving You (18 page)

“It doesn't matter,” Pops said. “None of us are in any hurry.” He squeezed his new bride's hand.

After their waitress left, Cash scooted back his chair. “Come on, Maggie mine, let's hit the dance floor and show them how it's done.”

She grinned. “Why don't we?”

Brawley envied the ease with which the two friends threw themselves into the dance, smiled when Fletch herded Dottie onto the floor. Doc Gibson asked Helen Reynolds, out to dinner with her daughter, to take a spin around the floor with him. Brawley watched in surprise. The old guy was incredibly light on his feet.

Soon, the entire table had emptied except for himself and Annie. “Come on, beautiful. Dance with me.”

Hand at her back, he led her onto the floor. One song moved into another and everyone changed partners, even the newlywed Fletch and Dottie.

A third song found Maggie in his arms. And thank heavens, it was a slow one. “Thinking of You” by Dierks Bentley. Oh, yeah. He tucked her into him and dropped his chin on the top of her head.

She might be feisty as all get out, but her five-foot-eight, curvy body melted into him tonight. He held a very mellow Maggie in his arms.

“I'm gonna miss you, sweetheart.”

“Brawley Odell, if what I saw yesterday is any indication, you're going to be so busy you won't know which end is up.”

He chuckled. “That might be, but a fellow can only work so many hours. Then what am I gonna do?”

A hint of sadness flickered in her eyes. “I'm sure you'll manage to find someone in this town who will be more than happy to keep company with you.”

He didn't answer.

The song ended, and Mitzy showed up at their table with the first of their dinners. Two by two, the couples drifted back to their seats.

Good food and good friends. The conversation flowed freely.

With a mischievous expression, Maggie leaned toward Cash and Annie. “Well?”

“Well what?” Cash asked.

“Oh, come on.” Maggie swatted him.

“Ouch!”

“Aren't you going to tell everybody?”

Annie shook her head. “Tonight's your night. We'll do it another time.”

Maggie's mouth dropped open. “What? And make me miss it? Bull!” She stood and tapped her water glass.

The table grew silent.

Brawley, glancing from Annie to Maggie to Cash, found himself amused at the wild-eyed glances bouncing among them.

“First and most important.” Maggie took a deep breath. “I want you all to know how very much I love you.”

Her lower lip trembled. Her mom and dad sat on either side of her, and she laid a hand on both their shoulders. “You've been my biggest cheerleaders. You've encouraged me and believed in me when even I didn't.”

Hoots and hollers broke out.

“Don't forget about us once you hit the big time,” Sophie said.

“Not a chance.” Maggie grinned. “Tonight's a happy night. A time to be thankful for all we've been given. For each other. A time to celebrate life. And speaking of life, I believe Cash and Annie have an announcement to make.” She gestured to them. “Your turn.”

Annie blushed and Cash stuck out his chest. He stood, pulling his wife up beside him. His arm tightened around her. “You want to tell them or should I?”

“You do it.”

“My Annie and I are gonna have us a baby!”

“That's why you didn't drink sangria last week,” Rita shouted.

Annie nodded, her grin as wide as the Texas sky.

Cash pulled her in for a long kiss.

“And that kind of lip-locking is one of the things that no doubt led to her condition,” Brawley drawled.

“You'd better believe it.” Cash's eyes twinkled, and Annie delivered a playful punch to his chest.

“When?” Dottie asked.

“End of October,” Annie answered.

Brawley noticed Ty had turned very quiet and sent more than one furtive glance Sophie's way. Hmmm. Something going on there. From Ty's expression, Brawley decided that something didn't have his friend turning cartwheels.

The party finally wound down, and everyone gathered purses and doggy bags.

The girls hugged and cried. Ty and Cash each gave Maggie a long, hard hug.

Doc Gibson said, “Maggie, girl, you're gonna put this little Texas town on the map. Couldn't be prouder of you if you were my own daughter.” He kissed her cheek. “You be sure to get back here to see us, you hear?”

She nodded, a renegade tear trickling down her cheek.

“Don't you be crying now, darlin'. This isn't good-bye.”

“I know.” She wrapped her arms around him. “I'll miss you.”

“I'm gonna miss you, too.” Doc cleared his throat. “And now I'd best be getting home. Got two dogs that are probably walking cross-legged about now. Been longer than I meant, and they'll be needing a trip outside.”

As he walked toward the door, Brawley finagled his way toward Maggie. “How are you getting to the airport in the morning?”

“Mom and Dad are driving me.”

He nodded. Then he cursed as she actually held out her hand. “What's this? A handshake? I don't think so.” He snaked an arm around her waist and pulled her closer, dropped his lips on hers. He forced himself to keep it light.

When he raised his head, she said, “Good-bye, Brawley. Good luck with your clinic.”

“Maggie—”

“No. Don't. I don't want to cry, and I'm awfully close. As wonderful as all this is, there's part of me that wants nothing more than to stay here and watch Annie grow big with Cash's baby, help Fletch and Dottie settle in, attend the triplets' kindergarten graduation. I'll miss all that. I'll miss everyone so much.”

He took her face in his hands. Marveled again at how fragile she was. With her big personality, he sometimes forgot. “I won't lie and tell you I'm glad you're going.” He shook his head. “But as much as I'd like to beg you to stay, you need to do this, Mags. You need to spread your wings. This opportunity, well, it's one you have to grab. You'll kick yourself forever if you don't.”

“I know. And once I'm on that plane, I'll be fine. I'll be good. Oh, Brawley.” She laid a hand on his arm, a smile blossoming. “I never in a million years thought I'd have this chance.”

He kissed the tip of her nose. “You earned it, Red.”

“I did.”

And with that, his cocky redhead was back.

H
er flight would board soon. It was time she headed to her gate. Laughing at Pops's joke, Maggie looked up. Over the heads of the crowd, she saw Brawley striding toward them.

Stalking would probably be more apt.

Their eyes met.

“Oh, no,” she groaned.

“What's wrong?” her mom asked.

“I told him not to come.”

All eyes turned to Brawley.

“If you don't want him here—” Her father stood.

“No, it's okay, Dad.”

Brawley reached them, tipped his hat to the women, nodded a greeting to the men. “Morning, everybody. Mind if I steal Maggie for a couple minutes?”

“Why are you here?”

“I wanted to see you off, Mags.” His eyes were bloodshot and full of pain. “Talk to me. Give me two minutes, and I'll go away.”

“There's nothing to talk about.”

“Like hell.” He took her arm, ignored the growl that erupted from Sean Sullivan.

Maggie held out her hand. “It's okay, Dad.” She shook off Brawley's grip and walked with him out of earshot of the others.

“What do you want?” she hissed.

“I want to know if there's any chance for us. I know what I said last night, and I meant every word. I don't want you not to go. That isn't what I'm suggesting. But, well, hell, after the other night, I think I have a right to know.”

“After the other night? What happened the other night?”

“You slept with me.”

“I did not.”

“Okay, you didn't. But we were both practically naked and about as close—”

“Oh, for—” Heat raced over her face, and she broke off, staring open-mouthed at him. Arms folded over her chest, her right foot tapped furiously on the airport tile. “You should know by now close only counts in horseshoes, right? Definitely not in bed. And keep your voice down.”

“Why? I'm not ashamed of anything we've done.”

“Maybe I am.”

“Ouch. That hurts. Cuts to the bone, in fact.”

She rolled her eyes, then looked at him again. Damned if he didn't actually look hurt. His ego, no doubt. Not his feelings. He didn't have any of those. Still…

“You look like hell, Brawley. Did you get any sleep last night?”

“Very little. Come on. Talk to me, Maggie.”

She stomped off across the terminal and dropped into one of the ugly, uncomfortable vinyl chairs.

He followed suit.

“Look,” he said. “I'm not going to get in your way. You have to go. Have to follow your dreams. I understand that. But I want you to know that when you've seen what you need to see, done what you need to do, I'll be here for you.”

“Like you were before?”

“I was young and stupid and I did you wrong. I've never denied that.”

“At eighteen, I wanted you more than my next breath.” She saw him wince and studied the new purple polish on her toes. “But all that's in the past. We're history, Brawley. How many times do I have to tell you that?”

“I don't believe you for a minute. See, here's the thing. You say the words, but your actions don't match. Saturday night? When we touched? Hot and explosive. If we're not made for each other, we've got a problem because I'm not sure there's anyone else for me—or for you, for that matter.”

She moaned. “Don't even say that.”

“I already did, and I told you before, once you hear something…”

“Right. It can't be unheard.”

He took her chin between two fingers and raised her gaze to his. “I want you to think about what I've said. In the meantime, hop on that plane and put Maverick Junction, Texas, on the map. I'm proud of you. Enjoy this, sugar.”

“Brawley—”

He shook his head. “You're headed for your star, and you're gonna catch it.” A sad smile lifted a corner of his lips. “You have to go. Doesn't mean I can't be sorry as hell, though.” He lifted her hand and brought it to his lips. “If things don't work out or you change your mind—” His voice broke. “I'll be here. Waiting for you. You can come home.”

“Brawley, don't wait for me. It's no way to live. I know from personal experience. I won't be coming back.”

He stared into her eyes for another few seconds. “Gotcha. One more thing before I go.”

“What?

“This.” Right there, in front of God, country, and her family, he thumbed back his Stetson and brought his lips to hers. He kissed her as she'd never been kissed. The emotion, raw and powerful, swept over her.

He pulled away and tucked his hands in his pockets. He nodded toward her parents, grandfather, and Dottie, then turned and walked away.

She bit her lip to keep from calling him back. He was wrong. They weren't made for each other, weren't meant to be together.

Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes for the count of ten. Wiping damp palms on her navy pencil skirt, she jumped up and moved to where the others stood silent, watching her.

“You okay?” her dad asked.

“I'm fine.” She smiled at him, then glanced at the airport clock. “Oh, you guys, I love you, but it's time to go.”

She threw her arms around her mom and kissed her. She hugged Dottie, then buried her face against Pops's neck. “I'll miss you.”

“I know, sweetheart, but you'll be so busy you won't have time to do more than come up for air. Call. Often. Let us know how you're doing,” Pops said.

“I will, and if you newlyweds have time, maybe you can visit, use New York as a second honeymoon.”

“We'll be there for your show,” her grandfather said. “Wild horses couldn't keep any of us away.”

Her dad threw an arm over her shoulder, drew her close, and kissed her forehead. “Keep your options open, honey. Always keep your options open. A whole new world is yours for the taking. Your mom and I are so, so proud.”

“Thank you, Daddy.” She hugged him tightly.

“I love you,” he said simply. “If you need me, call. I'm here for you always, baby girl.”

She smiled at him, waved at them all, and got in line for the metal detector. Setting her bag on the belt, she put her purse and magazine in a bin along with her shoes. She spoke to the security attendant, then stepped through the scanner, not daring a look back.

Thirty minutes later, seat belt fastened and a copy of
Vogue
in hand, the plane backed onto the tarmac, preparing for flight.

Maggie stared out the window and watched as they taxied onto the runway. She'd expected to leave Texas with a smile on her face. Instead, she was flying off to her dreams with tears in her eyes.

Damn Brawley Odell for that!

W
hen the plane touched down, Maggie's heart nearly leaped from her chest. As of this moment, she officially lived in New York City! Oh, my gosh! Who'd have believed it?

Not her!

Exhausted from a nearly sleepless night in her strangely unfamiliar childhood bed, she'd slept part of the way and doodled on her sketch pad the rest of the trip. The less-than-four-hour flight had passed quickly.

Now that she was here, though, any lethargy she'd felt sloughed away. She knew the grin on her face was ridiculously huge as she gathered her belongings and headed down the narrow aisle.

The stewardess smiled at her as she stepped off the plane. “Have a good day.”

“Oh, I'm going to.”

No one met her plane. Zandra, her new assistant, had offered, but Maggie declined. Maybe it was pride, maybe fear. Probably a mix of both with a few other emotions stirred into the brew. Regardless of the reason, she wanted to find her own way today. She needed to. If this city held her future, would be her home, her life, she needed to learn how to navigate it.

In the taxi, she made a quick call to her mom.

“I'm here safe and sound. Let Pops and Dottie know, would you?”

They chatted another couple minutes, then she hung up and phoned Ella to check on the shop. Everything was running smoothly. Even while relief filled her, she found herself almost wishing there'd been just the tiniest snag, something that only she could fix.

Her business, her baby, didn't need her. Because she'd found an excellent employee and trained her well, Maggie told herself. Still, it was always nice to be needed.

For a fraction of a second, she actually considered calling Brawley to touch base. To hear his voice. Her finger scrolled down to his name before she caught herself. What the heck was she doing? And what had possessed her to even add his name to her contacts?

She dropped her phone into her purse and stared out the window as the taxi passed skyscraper after skyscraper. New leaves, the bright green of spring, peppered the trees along the way. A few flowering ones splashed color against the grays and browns of the buildings.

Store after store after store rushed past. The sidewalks were filled with people scurrying to work, to home, to shops. The energy fascinated her and filled her with a vitality of her own. When the driver pulled up in front of the brownstone where she'd rented an apartment, she fairly vibrated with it. Her new home.

The cabby retrieved her luggage from the trunk, and she paid him. As he drove away, she pulled out her phone and took a photo of herself in front of her stoop.

Without thought, she sent it to Brawley.
U have new paint, I have a new address.
☺

Then, guiltily, she sent the picture, along with a different message, to her mom, who really should have been the first.

One bag at a time, she manhandled the luggage up the short flight of stairs to her door and dug out her key. Annie had given her an apple keychain. Symbolic.

Maggie and her dad had argued over her apartment choice. Not only would she be living solo for the first time, but she'd be doing it in a big city. One where she knew only a handful of people—and none of them well.

He'd wanted her in a building with a doorman; she'd fallen in love with a first-story flat without one. They'd compromised on a second-story sans doorman but one her mother assured him was in a safe neighborhood.

Dragging her bags upstairs, Maggie questioned her wisdom in not holding out for a ground floor. It sure would have made this part of the move easier.

But when she opened her door, any and all doubts fled. The sun poured through large windows and turned the wood floors into a river of shine. Her landlord had arranged for a cleaning crew to come in, and the place was spotless.

Best of all, there in the center of her dining room table, a beautiful bouquet of spring flowers from her family greeted her. So like them to think of that.

A note from Zandra rested beside it, explaining she'd let the florist in and had stocked the fridge with wine, some food, and a few basics in case Maggie didn't feel like going out.

She sighed and moved into the kitchen. Dark cherry cabinets, granite countertops, and stainless steel appliances. What more could a girl want? And thanks to Zandra, she had wine with which to toast her new home.

She spun in a circle, then did a little happy dance right there in the middle of the kitchen.

She spotted a container of Arabica beans by her new coffeemaker. Yes! She patted herself on the back for having chosen her assistant well, then gave Zandra a silent round of applause.

A loaf of Italian bread lay on a cutting board on the counter. When she opened the fridge, Maggie clapped her hands. This was as good as Christmas. A bottle of red, one of white, a huge bunch of grapes, cheeses, several deli containers—Wow. She'd hit the jackpot.

Zandra already deserved a raise. Spotting her favorite sparkling water, she poured a glass. Flying had dehydrated her.

She kicked off her shoes, dropped onto the white leather sofa in the living room, and sipped her water. Maybe she wouldn't go anywhere tonight. Although the flight had been fairly short, the day had been long.

Partly because they had to drive to Austin, partly from nerves, she'd been up early. She'd already had the coffee brewing and the eggs frying when her mom and dad came downstairs.

Then, of course, checking in and waiting for the flight. But the emotional toll had been the most draining. Despite the fact she wanted this desperately, when it came right down to it, it was hard to rip her roots out of the Texas soil and leave her family, her friends, her shop. And, yes, Brawley. By the time the plane had taxied from the gate, she'd felt drained.

Then they'd landed, and she'd had an incredible spurt of energy. When she'd stepped out of the cab, she'd truly believed she could take on the world.

Right now, though, instead of a stroll around the block, she'd settle for a meandering tour of her new apartment. Thank heavens it came furnished right down to silverware, linens, and coffeepot. The only thing required from her? The rent money. She had enough put away for the first few months. After that, she hoped her clothing line would cover the expenses.

Standing in the center of the room, arms wrapped around herself in glee, she thought how different this sleek, newly remodeled house was from Pops's or even her parents. It reminded her of Brawley's. Not the kitchen. He was pretty much stuck with what Dottie had there. But the furniture, the décor.

She liked it. Black and white with a pop of red in the accessories. The walls and ceilings had been painted a soft white, making them a great backdrop for the few pieces of art.

Dragging one suitcase behind her, she moved to the back, to the bedrooms and bath. The fact it had a guest room had pushed this apartment from a maybe to a definite yes. When someone came to visit, they wouldn't have to sleep on the sofa—nor would she if she gave them her bed.

The bath was sleek chrome and pristine white. The black and white floor and shower tiles added their own artistic touch, as did the black towels and the huge white vase. The total effect was something straight out of a decorator's dream.

And the bedroom. Her suitcase bumping at her heels, she stopped in the doorway and simply stared. Giving herself a quick pinch, she decided it was real. All of it.

Tonight she'd sleep in that incredible art deco bed with its plump pillows and duvet—in New York. A horn blared outside her window and another answered it. So foreign to a Maverick Junction girl. While some might find it distracting, it sounded like music to her ears.

When she woke tomorrow, she'd brew coffee in that sleek coffeemaker, eat an egg and some cheese from one of the sleek white plates, and shower in that elegant bath.

Then she'd head downstairs, hail a taxi, and make her mark in the fashion industry. What more could she possibly want?

Maybe a pet. A dog that she could walk or a cat that she wouldn't have to walk. It might be better to wait a bit on that, though, since she'd be putting in long days for quite some time. Would it be fair to an animal if she brought it home, then left it for hours and hours at a time?

Her phone pinged. An incoming message.

The instant he hit send, Brawley regretted it. He needed to let Maggie settle in and get her feet under her.

But he hadn't been able to resist. Jesse, Jonah, and Josh had been so damned earnest, and he'd caught them in an upswing, all three of them, like a trio of synchronized swimmers or dancers.

He'd stopped and had lunch on the drive home from the airport. A spur of the moment whim had him turning off onto Ty's lane. He'd used the excuse of checking up on Trouble, but, in all honesty, he'd needed to touch base with a friend. He was feeling a little raw.

Maggie had to go, deserved this chance, but that didn't make it hurt less. He hadn't made a dent in her feelings for him. He hadn't been forgiven.

Walking away this morning, knowing she'd board that plane, had been the toughest thing he'd done since he'd walked away from her all those years ago. Just like before, he'd had no choice, no options. This was her shot, and he couldn't hold her back. She'd never forgive him…or herself.

When he pulled into the drive, three swim-goggled boys and their dog greeted him. Following them to the barn, he'd watched while they pummeled a block of wood Ty'd put there. Unable to help himself, he'd snapped the picture.

Brawley stuck his phone in his hip pocket. Maggie could delete the photo if it didn't fit her new image.

“Brawley, Brawley,” he chastised himself under his breath. “You've been the city dweller all these years, not her.” Still…

Ty stepped out of the tack room. “Hey, Brawley. What brings you out here? Somebody have a sick horse or cow?”

“Nah. I…um…” He kicked at a clump of straw on the barn floor. “I drove over to Austin today. Thought I'd stop by and check out this mutt of yours.”

“Unfortunately, the snakebite didn't seem to make him behave any better than ever,” Ty said. “If he chews up another shoe, I'm afraid Sophie's gonna ban him from the house.”

“Can't say I blame her. You trained all these boys not to eat shoes. Can't you train Trouble?”

“We didn't eat shoes!” Jonah giggled.

“You sure about that?” Brawley squinted at him.

“Yeah.” Jesse wound himself around Brawley's leg. “Kids don't eat shoes, just dogs.”

“Kids eat dogs?”

Startled, Jesse shook his head.

“You said kids don't eat shoes, just dogs.”

Jesse let out an exasperated sigh.

“Just dogs eat shoes, Uncle Brawley,” Josh said.

“Oh.” Brawley took off his Stetson and wiped his brow. “You had me scared there for a minute.” He scooped Jonah off his feet and held him upside-down. The other two stepped in to tickle their brother while he was helpless.

As he set Jonah back on his feet, he noticed Ty's frown. He gave one of the kids a tap on the butt. “Why don't you run on up to the house? Ask Sophie if she might have a cold glass of sweet tea for one of the good guys.”

“For who?” Josh asked.

“For me.”

“'Kay.” The three tore off across the yard, Trouble yapping at their heels.

“What's wrong, Ty?”

“Sophie wants a baby.”

“Doesn't surprise me. She loves those boys, but it's only natural to want one of her own.”

“I'd hoped to put it off a bit.”

“She doesn't want to.”

“Nope. And Annie and Cash's announcement last night—Well, it didn't help matters. It turns out she already knew. But this puts some extra pressure on me.”

“So go for it, pal. Give your boys a baby to boss around.”

Ty let out a half-laugh. “Oh, yeah. They'd do that well.”

“But?”

“Hell of a thing for a man to admit, Brawley, but I'm afraid.”

“Afraid?” Then it hit him. What an idiot. Of course Ty'd be scared. He'd lost his first wife right after she'd had the boys. “It's different this time, Ty. Totally different. Sophie's healthy. There's nothing wrong with her heart.”

“I know that. Here.” Ty tapped a finger to his forehead. “But here?” He pounded a fist over his heart. “Scares the bejesus out of me.”

“Only natural you'd feel that way.”

The front door slammed, and both men watched as Sophie, wearing a short dress the color of saddle leather, stepped onto the porch.

She held up a tray. “This is as far as I go. You guys get yourselves up here.”

“Yes, ma'am,” Ty called out. Turning to Brawley, he said, “I couldn't stand to lose her. It would kill me.”

“Understood. I think, though, what you're gonna lose is this battle.” He slung an arm over his friend's shoulders. “My guess is that Sophie can talk you into just about anything.”

“You've got that right, pal. She turns those big brown eyes on me, and I'm lost.”

“Well, then, step up and do your duty. And while you're at it, you might as well have a little fun.”

They stepped onto the porch laughing.

Sophie quirked her brow. “What's going on?”

“Not a thing.” Ty leaned close and planted a whopper of a kiss on her.

“You'd think the two of you were newlyweds,” Brawley muttered.

“Yes, you would, wouldn't you?” Sophie kissed Brawley's cheek.

“Kind of stingy.”

“But I have sweet tea.” She handed him a glass.

“So you never did say what you were doing in Austin this morning.” Ty dropped onto the porch swing.

“Austin? Maggie flew out of there this morning.” Sophie's eyes grew misty. “Did you take her?”

“No. Her folks did.” Heat rushed over him. He felt stupid. Like a teenager caught drawing hearts around his girl's name in study hall.