Home at Rose Cottage (32 page)

“You falling head over heels for the guy. Sexy, intelligent
and
compassionate. That’s a hard combination to ignore, no matter what common sense tells you to do.”

As usual, Ashley had nailed it, but Maggie didn’t want to admit to her feelings aloud. She wasn’t sure she could bear the sympathy if Rick disappointed her in the end. And the jury was definitely still out on that. He seemed happy enough with the way things were, but she was starting to lose hope that he would ever change enough to take a risk on a future with her. Ashley’s skepticism only seemed to confirm her own doubts.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she said shortly, clinging to an old spin that might have worked on someone other than her sister. “We’re still getting to know each other. That’s all. Sooner or later, he’ll go back to work. I’ll come back to Boston and we’ll drift apart. I accept that.”

“I can tell from your voice that you actually believe that,” Ashley said. “Why? Come on, Maggie. Why can’t you trust what you and Rick have? If you don’t, that alone should tell you something, don’t you agree?”

“Okay, okay. I know you’re right. I know I don’t trust it because he’s Rick Flannery, after all, the ultimate rolling stone,” Maggie retorted, tears stinging her eyes. That said it all. Rick Flannery didn’t do commitment. She’d
known it from the beginning. She might as well accept that nothing had changed.

Still fighting tears, she told Ashley, “I have to go.” As she hung up, she turned to find Rick standing in the doorway, staring at her with a shocked expression.

“What are you doing here?” she snapped, her heart hammering. How much had he heard? Too much, judging from his expression.

“I came over here to ask you something important,” he said, “but obviously my timing sucks.” He leveled a hard look directly into her eyes. “What the hell did you mean by what you told your sister just now?”

“How much did you hear?”

“Enough to know that you don’t think too much of me.” He shook his head. “How did I get this so wrong?”

Maggie couldn’t understand why he was so offended. She scowled at him. “Well, it’s true, isn’t it? It’s taking a little longer than I expected, but eventually you’ll get bored with all this and go back to Boston. You’ll start doing photo shoots with all those gorgeous models again, and the next thing you know you’ll be involved with one of them. The Kellers and I will just be a distant memory.”

He regarded her with a look that was filled with wounded pride, or maybe genuine bemusement. “Do you honestly think I’m that shallow? Do you think the last few weeks have been some sort of game for me?”

She could tell he was furious, but she really didn’t know why. “Isn’t that the way it’s always been?”

He had the grace to look chagrined by the question, but then the fire in his eyes returned. “Before I met you, yes,” he said tightly. “But crazy me, I thought what we had was different. I was starting to believe in it. Obviously you still see our relationship as some sort of summer interlude. That’s
your
usual pattern, isn’t it?”

She winced as he leveled the harsh accusation with dead aim, then headed for the door.

“You’re leaving,” she said flatly, resigned to it. No matter how many times she’d deluded herself into thinking otherwise, she’d been expecting this from the beginning. It didn’t really matter that she’d been the one to give him an excuse to go. If she hadn’t, he would have found another one, no matter what he said now about having changed.

To her shock, though, he whirled around, came back and dragged her into his arms, crushing her mouth under his. The kiss was laced with barely banked fury, but it still stirred her. She hated that he could get to her, even when there was so much anger in the air, even when it was all over between them.

“I’m leaving, yes,” he said. “Because right this second I’m too furious to stay. But I will be back, Maggie, and we will talk about this. Nothing’s over between us. Nothing.”

After he’d gone, his words—his promise—lingered in the air. Maggie touched a finger to her bruised and tender lips and let the tears fall.

But rather than the bitter tears of a woman who’d gotten exactly what she’d expected from the beginning, they were tears of relief that maybe, just maybe Rick was going to prove her wrong, after all.

“I
s it just me, or are the D’Angelo women absolutely, positively impossible to understand?” Rick asked Mike over a beer an hour after leaving Maggie’s place. His fury was slowly but surely dying down, but in its wake was a mile-wide streak of sorrow and confusion.

“How is it that a man who’s dated more than a few of the world’s most gorgeous creatures still doesn’t understand women?” Mike replied.

“Those women weren’t half as complicated as Maggie,” Rick insisted.

“How so?”

“They wanted to be seen in the right places and they wanted me to make sure that they looked beautiful in their pictures. There weren’t all these undercurrents to trip a man up.”

“Maybe the real difference is that you never cared about any of them enough to let them stress you out,” Mike suggested.

“Could be,” Rick conceded. “But answer my original question, is there something about the D’Angelo women I just don’t get?”

“I can’t speak for Jo and Ashley, or even for Maggie,”
Mike said, his expression thoughtful, “but Melanie certainly wasn’t the easiest woman to read. I figured it was just me.” He grinned. “Either that, or the fact that men simply aren’t supposed to understand women ever, no matter who they are.”

Rick lifted his beer in a toast. “I like that one. I’d hate to think I’m the only dense male on the planet.”

Mike gave him a quizzical look. “Do I get to know what any of this is actually about, or did you drag me over here just so you could get some male sympathy?”

Rick wasn’t prepared to go into detail, so he gave Mike the condensed version. “If you must know, I went over to Maggie’s tonight with a plan. It went up in smoke.”

“You asked her something and she shot you down?” Mike guessed.

Rick’s bark of laughter held a note of bitterness. “I never asked a damn thing. I walked in to hear her telling Ashley that she couldn’t count on anything with me because I’m just a shallow jerk.”

Mike regarded him with disbelief. “She said that?”

“I’m interpreting,” Rick admitted.

Mike shook his head, regarding Rick with pity. “Never do that, man. Never try to interpret or assume when there’s a woman involved. It’s dangerous. It’ll come back to bite you in the butt every time. Whenever I took a stab at guessing what was going on with Melanie, I got it wrong.”

“Amen to that,” Jeff said, pulling out a chair to join them. He looked at Mike. “Are we here to commiserate with Rick over something specific?”

“He’s not being that specific,” Mike said. “For the moment, this is just a general discussion of female idiosyncracies.”

“All women’s idiosyncracies, or Maggie’s in particular?” Jeff asked.

“Maggie’s, if you must know,” Rick said.

Jeff and Mike exchanged a look filled with barely concealed amusement. Maybe it had been a mistake to call them. They seemed to be taking a lot of pleasure in his pain. Still, he’d needed to talk to someone. If he’d gone back out to the farm, heaven knew what Matthew and Sally would have had to say. They were losing patience with the pace of his courtship as it was. For once, he hadn’t been in the mood for any of their sage advice, no matter how well-meant.

In fact, what he’d wanted was a couple of drinking buddies who’d help him get stinking drunk. The fact that the idea held any appeal at all was a shock. That he’d turn to alcohol was proof of just how deeply he’d been wounded by Maggie’s words. It had hurt like hell finding out that the woman he loved still thought he was little better than a shallow cad. He could have sworn they’d gotten past that weeks ago, but Maggie’s uncensored comments to her sister told him otherwise.

“How about another round of beer?” he suggested, gesturing for the waitress.

Jeff cast another of those amused looks at Mike. “I’ll stick to club soda, I think. Something tells me this crowd is going to need a designated driver.”

“I’ll join you, Rick,” Mike offered. “Though two’s my limit. I don’t want to spend the whole night trying to explain to Melanie why I’ve come home drunk. To be honest, you don’t want me to have to do that, either. She’ll run straight to her sister. They’ll commiserate, and we’ll wind up catching hell somewhere along the line.”

Rick regarded him curiously. “Does Melanie keep you on a short leash?”

Mike laughed. “Oh, pal, if that’s your idea of marriage, I think I see why things aren’t going too smoothly with Maggie.”

“Explain,” Rick pleaded. “I really want to get this.”

“Seriously?” Mike asked.

“Yes, dammit!”

Mike glanced at Jeff. “Feel free to jump in anytime,” he told his friend. “Okay, here it is in a nutshell. Marriage is a partnership. When it works, both people get what they want. Sometimes that takes a little compromising.”

“Which means you give in,” Rick guessed. In his experience, the only way to keep a woman happy was to do everything her way.

“The man is a real cynic, isn’t he?” Jeff noted. “No, pal, compromise means both people give a little. Or you give in on one thing and she gives in on another. Things balance out.”

Rick nodded, taking that in. “Okay, partnership and compromise. What else?”

“Friendship,” Mike said.

“Respect,” Jeff added.

Rick lifted his beer in another toast. “Respect, that’s it,” he said triumphantly. “That’s what’s missing between Maggie and me.”

“You don’t respect Maggie?” Jeff asked, looking incredulous.

“No, no, no,” Rick insisted. His words were beginning to slur a little. He was actually getting drunk. He couldn’t remember the last time that had happened. He’d vowed years ago never, ever to use alcohol as a crutch the way his mother had. “Maggie doesn’t respect me. She thinks I’m a scoundrel.”

“Really?” Jeff asked, fighting a grin. “I don’t suppose all those stories in the tabloids contributed to that opinion, did they?”

Rick shook his head. “Haven’t been in the tabloids. Not for weeks and weeks.”

“Since you’ve been here,” Mike said.

“Exactly.” He was beginning to feel very sorry for himself. “Been loyal and faithful for weeks and weeks, and what does it get me? Not one thing. She still doesn’t trust me not to take off on her.”

“Have you told Maggie you love her?” Mike asked.

“That was the plan,” he said sorrowfully. “It all went to hell.”

Jeff regarded him with confusion. “What plan?”

Mike’s expression filled with sudden understanding. “Tonight’s plan,” he explained to Jeff, then turned to Mike. “You went over there tonight to tell her you love her.”

Rick tapped his beer bottle against Mike’s. “And to ask her to marry me.” He shook his head sadly. “Never got that far, though.”

“Because of something you overheard her say to Ashley,” Mike concluded. “Oh, man, you are such an idiot.” He leaned forward and regarded Rick intently. “Go home. Sober up and go back over there tomorrow with enough flowers to fill the damn place. Don’t cut them from the garden over there, either. Buy them.”

“You really think the flowers will change the way she thinks of me?” Rick asked.

“Hell, no,” Mike told him. “But they’ll get you in the door. After that, start tap-dancing as fast as you can.”

“I can’t tap-dance,” Rick said, confused.

“Not literally,” Mike explained patiently. “Start talking and don’t let up until you’ve gotten through to her. Now do you get it?”

For the first time since he’d left Maggie and let his temper cool into something that felt more like hurt, Rick felt hopeful. After all, the entire world knew what a smooth talker he was, thanks to his tabloid reputation. Maybe this was one time when living up to that reputation could actually serve his purpose.

Maggie waited for hours for Rick to turn up again so she could apologize for her possibly unfounded accusations and they could start the evening over.

As it grew later and later, though, her own temper began to heat up. How had she wound up on the defensive for merely expressing the truth? He’d certainly said or done nothing to dispel her impression that their relationship was going to end as badly as all her others. It was just taking longer than she’d expected to get to the final breakup.

When she couldn’t bear staring at the walls another instant, she picked up the phone and called Melanie. Maybe her sister could offer some words of wisdom. At least she wouldn’t denigrate Rick or say anything to reinforce Maggie’s own insecurities. Melanie was far more diplomatic than Ashley.

“I suppose you called because you’re worried about Rick?” Melanie said as soon as she heard Maggie’s voice.

“Worried about him? Why would I be worried about him?”

“Uh-oh,” Melanie whispered. “I thought you knew.”

“Knew what?”

“That he’s out with my husband and Jeff. Mike called
a few hours ago to say that you and Rick had some sort of disagreement and Rick needed company. They’re drinking.”

Maggie was shocked. Rick didn’t drink, at least not much more than an occasional glass of wine with a meal. After being reared by an alcoholic, he was religious about cutting himself off after one drink.

“Rick doesn’t really drink,” Maggie said worriedly.

“Well, something changed tonight. Did you two fight?”

“I wouldn’t call it a fight exactly. He overheard something I said to Ashley, and it made him angry. I pushed a few more buttons, and he stormed out of here. I actually thought he’d get over it long before now and come back, so we could sort everything out.”

“He’s not over it apparently,” Melanie said. “I can tell you where they are, if you want to go over there.”

Maggie sighed. “No. Rick needs to figure this one out on his own.”

“Is he the only one with a problem?” her sister asked.

“No, but he’s the one with the solution. I’m just not sure if he’ll ever figure that out.”

“He loves you, Maggie.”

“There was a time when I thought he did.”

“He does,” Melanie said confidently. “Otherwise he wouldn’t be with my husband right this minute trying to drown his sorrows.”

“That’s love?”

“It is for a man who’s fighting it. Be patient, sis.”

“Not one of my virtues,” Maggie said. “I think we all know that.”

“Then it’s about time you developed it,” Melanie chided. “If things aren’t better by this time tomorrow, call me. Until then, hold tight.”

“I’ll try,” Maggie promised. Even if it killed her.

It was dark as midnight when Rick got back to Maggie’s cottage. He’d had a half-dozen cups of coffee after Mike and Jeff had dropped him at the farmhouse. Thankfully Matthew and Sally had been asleep. He’d sat alone in the kitchen drinking cup after cup of coffee until he concluded he was not only reasonably sober, but wide-awake enough to do what he had to do. Now that he was here, though, he didn’t feel half as steady as a man should when he was about to make the most important pitch of his entire life.

Maggie was sitting on the porch. He could smell the faint scent of jasmine she always wore. Maybe she was waiting for him. Maybe she was sulking. Either way, at least he wasn’t going to have to wake her from a sound sleep to get this over with before he lost the last of the false courage he’d bought himself with a couple of beers.

“I thought you might be in bed by now,” he said, standing on the bottom step and waiting for some sign that he’d be welcome after the way he’d stormed off earlier. Not that a lack of welcome would turn him away, but it might change his tactics ever so slightly. He might be forced to resort to those flowers Mike had recommended, even if he had to go into the garden and yank them out of the ground. Right now, he was relying solely on himself and the message he needed to deliver.

“I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep until we talked,” she said.

“Then you knew I would be back?”

“You said you would be, so, yes, I believed you.”

He gave a nod of satisfaction, then realized that on the moonless night, she couldn’t see him. “Good. Then you do have some faith in me…in
us.
”

“I want to,” she said, her voice shaky.

“What will it take to convince you?”

“I honestly don’t know.”

“Does this lack of trust really have anything at all to do with me, or is it about your past relationships?” He’d realized somewhere between the farm and here that it was all twisted together. Did she recognize the same thing?

“Both,” she said at once, surprising him with the admission. At least she could see that he wasn’t entirely to blame for all the doubts she had.

“What have I done, not in the past but to you, to inspire your distrust?”

“Nothing,” she admitted at once. “But I do know your pattern, Rick. I’ve seen you change since we’ve been here, but I’m terrified to trust those changes.”

“Patterns can be broken—at least I’d like to think some of them can be. Yours and mine, anyway. If we’re going to talk about what we want, then you should know that I want to believe that you and I have what it takes to make a whole new pattern, one we can live with forever. I want us to wind up like Matthew and Sally, together in our old age, not letting anything get between us.”

The words hung in the air, and for a long time he thought she might not respond at all, but she finally whispered, “What do you mean?”

He grinned at her caution. It was plain she didn’t intend to take a chance on misinterpreting. He could hardly blame her after the way they’d gotten it so wrong earlier tonight.

“In my own clumsy way, I’m asking you to marry me,” he said. “Do you suppose I could come up there where I can see your face while I try to convince you about this?”

“I guess,” she said, sounding doubtful about the wisdom of it.

Rick could see he was going to have his work cut out for him. That’s why he’d taken a few precautionary measures to ensure his success. He’d taken them earlier in the day, but he had a hunch they were even more essential now.

Maggie was sitting in a rocker, so he took a seat in the one next to her. He set it in motion to match the somewhat agitated pace of hers.

“Here,” he said, handing her a piece of paper.

“It’s too dark. I can’t read it,” she said, clearly frustrated. “What is it?”

“A contract. I’ve bought a place a few miles from here.”