Chapter 9
9
Clearly she still needed some catchup sessions on how to have a normal conversation. This one with Zach had gotten seriously out of control, and in ways that were still making Maggie’s heart somersault and her mind race. He was looking at her bemusedly now, his hair sticking up where he’d raked his hand through it, in agitation at her admittedly spurious accusations. Maggie had thrown that line about influence over Ben at him mainly because she didn’t want him thinking she was inquiring about his dating life on her own account. It had been stupid and thoughtless, and she was sorry for it now.
“Start over,” Zach repeated neutrally, his eyes narrowing.
“With this conversation.” She tried for a jokey tone, although in truth she felt like she was grasping at straws. “How about you come in again and tell me you have a proposition for me? And I respond like a normal, well-adjusted person, and then we take it from there?”
His mouth quirked up at the corner, which, she had to face it, was very sexy. Not that she should be thinking that way at all . “Sounds like a plan,” he remarked. “So, should I go all the way downstairs, come in the door again? Is this a full retake?”
This was starting to feel a little ridiculous, but Maggie decided to roll with it. “Sure, why not? And I will, too. Let’s have a complete re-do.” She needed it… in all sorts of ways.
Feeling more than a little silly at perpetuating this charade, she followed Zach downstairs. He gamely went outside while she took her position behind the counter. She could practically hear an imaginary director calling, “Take two…”
Zach opened the door. He stood there for a moment, bracing one arm against the doorframe as he gave her a slow, sexy smile, which he definitely hadn’t done before. His eyes glinted and the curve of his mouth was knowing and lingering, full of sensual promise. While Maggie watched, he started a slow swagger toward her, making her stomach flip and her knees go weak. Yowzers. When Zach Miller put on the charm, he was… irresistible. And that was more than a little alarming.
“Hey there,” he said in a low, meaningful, bedroom type of voice. He was clearly rewriting the script, and she wasn’t sure how she felt about that, but she did know her heart was starting to thud hard, and she felt tingly in all sorts of places. “I have a… proposition for you, Maggie Parker.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively, a smile still lurking about his mouth as he came to stand before her, his thumbs hooked through his belt loops, that sexy smile still curving his mouth.
It was all so clearly, deliberately over-the-top that suddenly Maggie had to bite her lip to keep from laughing as she folded her arms and attempted to stare him and his gorgeous bedroom eyes down. She was still affected, definitely, but she was also, surprisingly, having fun. “And when you say it like that,” she told him with mock sternness, “is it any wonder I jumped to conclusions?”
He burst out laughing, and gratified by his reaction, she smiled. Were they flirting, she wondered, or were they just pretending to flirt? Did it even make a difference? Maybe it was just Zach’s MO; it certainly wasn’t hers… but she realized she was enjoying it. A lot.
“Okay, for real, now,” he told her, dropping the languorous look and the innuendo-laced tone to gaze at her with an endearing earnestness. “The truth is, like I said, I’d love to help you set up the café. I absolutely believe you could do it by yourself, but, full disclosure, you’d actually be doing me a favor. My sister doesn’t think I can manage so much as an ant farm, and I want to prove her wrong.”
Maggie raised her eyebrows. “ That’s what this is about?”
He shrugged, unrepentant but also seeming slightly embarrassed. “In part, yes.”
Maggie realized she admired him more for his honesty. And she felt reassured that his offer wasn’t made out of pity… or some other, murkier motivation. “So what would this look like?” she asked. “You helping out here?”
“It can look however you want it to look,” Zach told her. He glanced around the empty room. “I could start by moving those sofas if you wanted.” He nodded toward the furniture stacked against the wall.
“That would be great, actually.” Somewhat to her own surprise, Maggie found herself warming to the idea of Zach helping out around the café. She could certainly use another pair of hands, but beyond that, she could do with a friend. She’d asked Zach to be Ben’s friend, more or less, but was she willing for him to be her own? Was he ? “First, though,” she said impulsively, knowing there was still more air to be cleared, “let’s finish our coffee before it gets cold. And… based on what you said before, I think I should probably explain some things.”
Zach’s eyebrows rose briefly but then he nodded in acceptance. “Lead the way.”
Upstairs, Maggie heated their mugs of coffee in the microwave, more to have something to do and to stall for time. She’d already decided she was going to fill Zach in on some of her and Ben’s history, because she’d realized it wasn’t fair to leave him in the dark when he was befriending her son. But how much did she really want to share? Not much was the obvious and overwhelming answer, but if he was going to be part of her life—and, more importantly, Ben’s life—then she knew she needed to level with him, at least a little bit. Even if part of her would prefer stripping naked than sharing her painful past… and Ben’s.
Well, not quite, she realized. It had been a long time since she’d been naked in front of anyone.
“So, I told you that my husband died,” she stated quietly as she returned to the table with their reheated mugs and sat down across from him.
Zach’s expression was somber but alert as he nodded. “Yes, and I know it was in a car accident. That much traveled through the Starr’s Fall grapevine. I’m very sorry.”
“It was hard,” Maggie replied, her gaze downcast. “And obviously very sudden. He was driving home from the train station after a day working in the city—a trucker fell asleep at the wheel and veered into his lane.”
“I’m so sorry,” Zach said again quietly.
Maggie waved her hand, the gesture not quite dismissive, but almost. “That’s not actually what I want to talk about. I mean, yes. It was hard. Very hard, of course. But… it could have been harder.” Zach’s eyebrows rose in surprise and belatedly Maggie realized how that sounded. But she couldn’t explain any of that now, not that she would even know how, because she hadn’t been meaning to talk about herself.
“I wanted to tell you about Ben,” she stated quietly. “I don’t want to violate his privacy, but as his mother, and with you being his—his friend, I think you need to understand just how vulnerable he’s been, and why I seem so protective.”
“Okay,” Zach said after a moment.
Maggie hesitated. Was it her place to tell Zach about what Ben had been through? She knew Ben would never offer the information voluntarily, just as she knew how furious her son would be if he discovered she’d been spilling his secrets, especially when she was still very much reluctant to admit any of her own.
Zach must have sensed her confusion, because he reached out and rested his hand over hers, the feel of his palm on top of hers both reassuring and unsettlingly exciting. “Maggie,” he said, “the last thing I want you to do is betray Ben’s trust. If he wouldn’t want me knowing, you don’t have to tell me.” He paused, squeezing her hand, which sent tremors of awareness through her. “But I think I could guess some of it, at least, already.”
“Oh?” She sounded nettled when she didn’t mean to, but how could he possibly know? What assumptions was he making, just because Ben was quiet and shy and liked to game? And even if those assumptions were right, should someone like Zach be making them?
Someone like Zach . Clearly, she was making some assumptions, too.
“I just mean,” Zach said quietly, “that he’s a quiet kid and I’m guessing what with you pulling him out of school, and him being happy to do his work online, he might have been bullied or something at his old school and that must have been pretty tough, for you guys to feel like a big move was needed. Plus the amount he games… well, usually you do that when your real life kind of sucks.”
“Oh?” Now she really did sound defensive. “And you would know that how?”
Zach frowned, and belatedly Maggie realized how aggressive she’d sounded.
“Because that’s why I started to game,” he told her, removing his hand from hers. She found she missed it. “You know,” he added, gentling his tone, “you’re not the only one who’s had a hard time. I mean, I know you’ve really been through the mill, and I haven’t lost a life partner or anything remotely close to that, but, Maggie…” He hesitated and then finished, sounding as if he semi-regretted saying it even before he had. “You don’t have the monopoly on struggle.”
Maggie drew back, chastened and yet still feeling defensive. “I know that,” she said, and Zach cocked an eyebrow, clearly trying to lighten the mood, at least a little.
“Look me in the eye and tell me you haven’t assumed that I’ve had it easy my whole life.”
Maggie could feel her cheeks heating. Okay, she had assumed exactly that. She just hadn’t thought Zach had realized.
“You wouldn’t be the first one,” he told her, trying to sound lighthearted but not, Maggie thought, quite managing it. “Most everyone in Starr’s Fall thinks I’m a lucky, lazy you-know-what. And they don’t mind telling me as much.”
“So why do they think that?” Maggie asked.
“Because I was, back in high school,” Zach replied matter-of-factly. “I was on the baseball team, I had my pick of the girls, I thought I was all that and more. I was obnoxious, probably insufferable, and I’ll be the first one to say so.” He shrugged. “People change. But sometimes other people don’t let you, though, or don’t believe that you have.”
“And is that the entire population of Starr’s Fall?” Maggie asked, caught between sympathy and skepticism.
“Not everyone,” Zach allowed, “but more people than I’d like.”
“And all the dating?” She decided to be brave—or foolish—enough to ask. “What’s that about? Everyone I’ve talked to thinks you’re a… well, you’re a player.”
“I was ,” Zach emphasized, “in high school .”
“But you still date a lot.”
He straightened, his eyes flashing as Maggie realized how prudish she’d sounded. “I didn’t realize that was a crime.”
“It’s not a crime, obviously,” she said quickly. “But it is a… a thing , especially in a small town.”
Zach looked like he wanted to make a sharp retort, but then he sighed and slumped back into his chair. “Yeah, I guess it is,” he said quietly. “And maybe that’s part of the struggle.” He glanced at her, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Poor little baseball star, people think you’re shallow. Boo hoo.” He leaned forward, his elbows on the table, his voice dropping an octave, his tone turning intimate. “I know that was what you were thinking.”
“It wasn’t,” Maggie protested, and then gave an embarrassed laugh. “All right, maybe a little. From the outside, you seem like you’ve lived a charmed life, Zach. But I don’t want to be like everybody else.”
“I don’t want you to be like everybody else, either.” He held her gaze for a long moment, the humor dropping from his eyes as they lit with a certain knowledge as well as a sudden heat that made Maggie’s stomach flip. She tried to look away and found that she couldn’t.
“Zach…” she began, feebly. She didn’t know what she was going to say. This wasn’t the joking leer of earlier, when they’d had their re-do. He looked utterly serious… and thrillingly intent. And she wasn’t ready for him to be either.
He leaned forward a little more, so she breathed in his spicy, woodsy scent and her head started to swim. “What?” he asked quietly, a challenge.
Maggie shook her head. She was not going to spell it out for him.
“I like you, Maggie.” Okay, apparently he was.
“You barely know me?—”
“Yes, and what I know, I like.” He made it sound so simple when Maggie already knew it was anything but. “Is that a problem?”
“Yes, it is,” she burst out. “For a lot of reasons.”
“Okay.” Zach leaned back in his chair, seeming to enjoy this little exchange. “Name them.”
“ Name them?” Maggie spluttered. Her mind had, predictably and stupidly, gone blank. And even if it hadn’t, she was pretty sure she didn’t want to have this conversation.
“Yes.” He folded his arms, the knowing smirk on his face not annoying so much as adorable, which in itself was annoying. “Name them.”
“I… I don’t need to name them,” Maggie blustered. To this, Zach merely arched an eyebrow. “I mean, it’s obvious,” she continued, her tongue tumbling over the words. “You’re so… and I’m not… and it’s just…”
“Care to finish any of those sentences?”
“ Zach .” Maggie leaned forward, her embarrassed outrage dropping away as she stared at him with more honesty—and vulnerability—than she’d meant to. “Please don’t flirt with me. I know it’s fun for you, but…” She shook her head, her throat thickening. “I’m just not in that place,” she admitted wretchedly. “I’m too… raw. From everything.”
Zach leaned forward too, taking her hand in his. Maggie knew she should probably pull away, but she liked the feeling of his strong fingers encircling hers, the warmth of his palm against hers, far too much. “Maggie, I’m not flirting,” he said quietly. “I mean, yes, okay, maybe I am, but it’s not without… I mean it. This. Us . This isn’t… this isn’t just fun for me, although, I have to say, it’s that, too.”
“What is it, then? This?” Maggie forced out of a throat that felt painfully tight.
“Like I said,” Zach replied, his gaze steady on her, his hand still holding hers, “I like you. I’d like to get to know you. Go out on a date, if you feel you might be ready for that, but if not, then just hang out.”
“Is that why you want to help with the boardgame café?” She wasn’t sure if she meant it as a joke or not; she’d sounded a cross between uncertain and outraged.
“In part, yes.” Zach grinned, giving an unrepentant shrug. “Is that a bad thing?”
Maggie stared down at their clasped hands. Her mind was whirling. She hadn’t expected so much honesty from him… if that’s what it was. “I don’t… I don’t even know,” she admitted in a low voice.
“Look, if you’re not ready for romance, that’s fine,” Zach told her. “I’m not in a rush. We can just be friends.” He gave her hand a little squeeze and then released it as he sat back. “No pressure.”
She looked up at him, taking in his tousled hair, the bright blue-green eyes, that jaw . He was so ridiculously good-looking, and she was… she was a mess. In more ways than one. “Why?” she blurted. “Why me?”
Zach’s brows drew together in a frown. Even then he looked sexy. “I told you, I like you?—”
“Yes, but why ?”
“Do you really need to ask that question?” His tone was so gentle that it made Maggie’s eyes sting. For the last year, she’d been beating herself up for being a bad mom, a bad wife, a bad person . She couldn’t keep herself or her son together, and she hid from the world because it felt safer. Yes, she really did need to ask that question.
“Okay, for starters,” he began, “because you’re beautiful. But not to be shallow, you’re also funny and clearly kind, and you did something most people don’t do, which is take a huge leap out of your comfort zone, and more importantly, you did it for your son. Plus you can make fun of yourself, an essential quality in my mind, and you don’t mind eating gross pizza, although clearly I still have to convince you of the merits of chorizo. But beyond that…” He shrugged. “I guess I don’t know you well enough to reel off a laundry list of your amazing qualities. My point is, I’d like to.”
Maggie shook her head slowly. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had said so many nice things about her. She was blushing again, but in a good way. “I don’t know what to say,” she whispered.
“Say you’ll go out on a date with me. A very low-pressured, no-expectations kind of date, just to see if you might like me back.”
Oh, but that was tempting, and yet… she knew she wasn’t ready. She shook her head again, with some regret. “That sounds… nice,” she offered hesitantly, “but I don’t think I’m ready for that just yet.” What on earth would the good people of Starr’s Fall say, Maggie wondered, if they knew she and Zach, the town’s infamous player, had gone on a date ? What would Ben say? They really shouldn’t even be having this conversation.
“Okay,” Zach replied equably, completely unfazed. “No date. Let’s just get to know each other through me helping with the café and see how that goes.”
Maggie stared at him. Could it really be that simple? That… nice ?
“Okay,” she agreed at last. “Although now that we’ve had this conversation, working together might feel weird.”
Zach laughed. “We’re not in high school, thank God,” he told her. “I don’t think it will be weird.” He pushed himself up from the table. “How about I move those sofas for you now? Come downstairs and tell me where you’d like them to go.”
“Okay.”
It seemed it really could be that simple. That nice. They headed downstairs, and Maggie directed him, discreetly enjoying the sight of Zach’s biceps rippling as he hefted the sofas. He’d shrugged off his button-down shirt, so he was dressed only in faded jeans and a fairly fitted t-shirt, and Maggie had to admit it was a very nice view.
Within fifteen minutes, he had the sofas scattered around the space, creating inviting little nooks and alcoves with the furniture. “You’ll want to buy some smaller tables too, I think,” he told her once he’d finished and they were both surveying the welcoming scene. “For two-player games. You could get high ones with bar stools, maybe, but you want to create spaces for different sized groups—the big families or parties, but also the couple or pair of friends who want the space and time to play a long game.” He slid her a laughing glance. “You know something like Wingspan can take two or three hours to play, minimum?”
Maggie had never heard of Wingspan. “That’s a boardgame?”
“Yeah, it’s been popular recently. I’ve played it online, but I’ve heard it’s better in real person.”
“So you’re into more games than just RainQuest,” she surmised. Perhaps that fact shouldn’t surprise her, yet somehow it did.
He shrugged, hooking his thumbs on the pockets of his jeans. “RQ is definitely my favorite, but I like all kinds of games. I’ve played mostly online, though, which is why I’m so psyched for this place.” He smiled wryly, seeming slightly abashed, which Maggie realized made him even more appealing.
“I have to admit, I’m not much of a gamer myself,” she confessed with a laugh. Even if Ben loved them. “I didn’t grow up playing games, so maybe that makes a difference, but I’ve got only the basics—Monopoly, Scrabble, that kind of thing.”
“I didn’t grow up that way, either,” Zach told her with a smile. “My parents were too busy with the store, and Jenna was very driven with her schoolwork, and I was too into baseball. I didn’t start playing any games until I was eighteen.”
“So what made you start?” Maggie realized she was truly curious; she wanted to get to know Zach better, just as he wanted to get to know her. As friends, of course, but still… it was nice.
He hunched his shoulders, digging his hands deeper into the pockets of his jeans. “Remember what I said about having only six months of college?”
She nodded. “Yes…”
“Well, I came home in February of my freshman year because there was something of a crisis at home. My mom got diagnosed with breast cancer, and my dad needed help with the store and stuff. It ended up being a lot more complicated than I expected, and it was kind of lonely, just me and the parents for such a long time. All my friends from high school had gone to UConn, pretty much, so…” He shrugged. “I ended up gaming. It was pretty much my whole social life, for the better part of a year, while my mom did her chemo.”
So he could relate to Ben much more than she’d realized, Maggie acknowledged with a prickle of shame. She really should not have judged him the way she had. “And you never went back to college?” she asked.
“Nah. By the time my mom was better, and I could have gone back, everyone was midway through their second year, and it just felt… I don’t know… pointless. Everyone had moved on, and I had too, in a different way.”
Maggie supposed she could understand that, but it still felt as if he’d missed out, and she wondered if maybe he thought he had, too. Still, she was glad they’d had this conversation. It was a start of getting to know each other, and that felt like a good thing.
“I keep telling Ben I’ll learn how to play RainQuest,” she told him with a wry smile. “But the few times I’ve watched him, it’s all seemed super complex, to put it mildly. I’m not sure I could ever get the hang of it.”
“I bet you could,” Zach replied, grinning. “You could join our team. What do you think your character would be?” He scratched his chin, his face screwed up in thought. “I’m feeling like it could be an aasimar,” he told her. “Or maybe a shadar-kai.”
Maggie gave a little laugh as she shook her head. “A what or a what?”
“An aasimar is a planetouched humanoid with celestial lineage,” Zach explained. “And a shadar-kai is an elf who was blessed by the Raven Queen and transformed by the Shadowfell.”
Maggie shook her head again, laughter bubbling up. “Sorry, you have completely lost me.”
“They’re species types from the original Dungeons he was acting like he’d made some kind of pronouncement on her personality, and she had no idea what any of it meant.
Just then the door burst open and Ben came in, faltering in his step as he saw the two of them standing together. “Hey, you got the sofas and stuff arranged,” he remarked as he looked around. “Cool.”
“Yes, we did. Well, Zach did.” Maggie took an instinctive step away from him, needing that little bit of distance. “Looks pretty good, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah.” Ben nodded in approval as he looked around. “Yeah, it does.” He turned back to Maggie. “Can we have pizza for dinner?”
“Oh, well, I suppose?—”
“And can Zach stay?” He beamed at Zach. “I have this new plug-in I want to show him on RQ. It’s insane .”
“Ben,” Maggie began in gentle reproof. “Zach probably has plans?—”
“Actually, I don’t.” He raised his eyebrows, a glint of both humor and challenge in his eyes. “I can stay if you don’t mind an extra for pizza.” The teasing look on his face made her suspect she knew what he was thinking. This kind of counts as a date, doesn’t it?
“Sure,” she relented. She felt she could hardly say no without a good reason, and the truth was, she realized, she wanted him to stay.
Even if that almost certainly spelled trouble.