“I have a scar on my spine from an old glass window I fell into. It was in the long grass near our home, on this unused lot. Hurt like hell for ages.”
“Let me see.” She moved behind him and lowered the edge of the towel he’d wrapped around his waist. “Nasty.” He felt her lips there. “All better.”
He wanted to say something then. Something about them and where they were heading, but held it inside.
“I cooked.”
“Really?” She bent to pick up their clothes and then made for the bedroom where he’d put her bag.
“I could lie and say yes, but the truth is it’s a casserole Pearl dropped off.”
“How long have they been feeding you?” She was digging through the bag she’d brought with her. Her hair was wet tangles and her shoulders pale. He wanted to press his lips to them.
“I have no idea what you mean.”
“You’ve been conning them with the pathetic, ‘I’m a single helpless male’ routine for years, haven’t you?”
“No comment.”
She pulled on a nightshirt that came to midthigh. It had the words Every Artist Was Just An Amateur on the front. She looked young, sexy, and so damn cute he had to turn away and look in his drawers for some sweatpants. If he didn’t, he’d put his hands on her again.
“I’m sure Ralph Waldo Emerson would be more than happy to have his words on your body.”
“I know you’re smart, I know you’ve studied art, but how come you know quotes by Ralph Waldo Emerson? He was, among other things, a philosopher.”
“My mother told me about him.”
She’d moved to the doorway. “Will you tell me about her?”
He took the slim hand she held out to him.
“I don’t like to talk about her.”
“I know, but if today proved anything to me, it’s that talking about things makes them have less hold over us.”
“It’s a bit different, Maggs.” He released her when they reached the kitchen. “You pour the wine, and I’ll dish up the food.”
She did as he asked, and he thought about her words when she took the glasses into the living area. He’d never spoken about his mother. Never even said her name. Should he?
Taking the plates into the living area, he found her seated on the floor before the fire, back pressed to a chair. She looked good in his cabin. It felt right seeing her here, but he kept that thought to himself too.
Chapter30
He’d shocked her when he’d opened the shower door. That shock had soon turned to something else when he’d kissed her. He made her desperate. There was no other word for it. When he touched her, she simply forgot about everything but him.
“It’s a nice place to live,” Maggie said when Fin joined her. “I like your cabin.”
“Me too. I have plans in my head for what I want to build on the land.”
“Tell me about them?”
She ate Pearl’s casserole and listened, hearing the excitement in his voice.
“I like what I do, and I’d never leave that. But I want to have my own place. I want to run stock, grow trees and vegetables. I want to try out new energy sources and run off solar power.”
“I’ve always wanted a compost worm farm.”
“Really?” He lowered his plate, having cleaned it.
