Chapter 6
six
. . .
Dermot
Maggie’s house smells like her.
When I see the sprigs of fresh lavender on her coffee table, I can’t help but smile.
The space is totally her. It has a romantic feel, with lots of white bookcases along the walls.
Instead of art on the walls, she has photos arranged on the shelves with all of her favorite books, and she has one bookcase of just her books.
She’s also added a huge bouquet of flowers, white marble accents, and various statues of naked bodies to the shelves in front of her books.
It’s classy and sexy.
Just like her.
I stop in front of one photo of her and her four sisters.
All the Welch daughters look very similar, with blond hair and blue eyes, little carbon copies of their parents.
But to me, Maggie stands out. Not only is she stunning, but she looks like she has a secret that, if you ask nicely enough, she may tell you.
I want to know everything and then some.
I tell myself this is about my Hippocratic oath, about duty and responsibility. But the truth is simpler and far more selfish. I’m here because it lets me be near her, and I don’t have to put myself out there to ask for that.
Which is pathetic.
Start living again. Put yourself out there.
Ugh, if my sister’s concern could fuck off, that’d be great.
“So, not all your sisters live in town?”
Maggie looks up from the couch where she’s lying with Kip across her lap.
Damn dog went straight for her when we got here.
She washed her hair, but instead of wearing it down, she has the peachy-pink waves back in a loose braid over her shoulder.
Strands fall along her temple, making her look as if she belongs on a lily pad in a fairy garden rather than on her bright-white sectional with my dog insisting on cuddles.
My lucky-ass dog sighs deeply as she runs her fingers along his head.
“Nope, Opal is a traveling nurse since she doesn’t want to be here.
Her ex lives here,” she says, whispering the last part.
“And Blake runs my dad’s fundraisers, so she travels all over to make sure each one is up to snuff, doing what they’re supposed to, and meeting people to solicit donations.
She could do her job here, but she doesn’t like to come home much.
She stays in Nashville a lot since the home base is there.
Sadie just moved here from Nashville to basically become the next mayor, but she’s more my dad’s event planner right now. You know, nepotism at its finest.”
I chuckle at that. “Is she qualified?”
Maggie shrugs. “I mean, she’s a hell of an event planner. So, maybe?” My lips quirk as she asks, “Do you have family here?”
“My sister,” I answer with a nod as I glide my fingers along her books. She has all kinds, some of my favorite thrillers, some suspense, and, to my surprise, a lot of hockey memoirs. “Both my parents passed, my mom when I was ten and my dad about fifteen years ago.”
“I’m sorry,” she says softly. “I bet you and your sister are close, then.”
“We’re getting there,” I answer. “I moved out when I was eighteen, and he passed a couple days after that. Tessa, that’s my sister’s name, her mom was a real piece of work and kept her from me. We reconnected about six years ago, and I moved here to be closer to her.”
Well, shit. Look at me go. Tessa would be really proud of me.
“Oh wow. Lots to process with a concussion.”
I close my eyes, leaning into the shelves. Yeah, dumbass. Way to unload. She doesn’t give a shit about your life.
“But I’m here for it, and I love that for you. Showing her you mean business and moving here to be closer. I like that a lot.”
I swallow before looking back at her. Her eyes are trained on me, her position open and welcoming.
She is always smiling, and I know everyone in town adores her.
It’s not because of her celebrity status either.
It’s because she’s a genuinely nice person.
I want to push Kip out of the way and cuddle in her lap.
Instead, I nod. “She thought the same, and now we’re on good terms. We talk daily, but I got really busy during the holidays and kind of pulled away.
She is now insisting we have weekly dinners, which I don’t mind. ”
“Yeah, when I’m writing, I’m focused on only my characters. My family understands, but the guilt is still there.”
“I’m sure,” I say, moving toward where her books are.
Her best-selling series, which is what Netflix has picked up, is about a group of elite bodyguards who are hired all over the world.
Each guy ends up with some kind of girl and falls madly for them.
They’re funny, witty, and so fucking sexy.
“It has to be cool, though, living in the worlds you create.”
“It is,” she answers with reverence in her voice. “Are you a reader?”
“I am.” I turn to face her. “I read about two books a week.”
Her eyes light up, and fuck, if I don’t love that look. “That’s so awesome! What’s your favorite genre?”
I swallow nervously. “Romance.”
“No shit!” she squeals. “Have you read me?”
I glance to the side, my face burning to the point of pain.
Am I really going to admit that? Before I can decide, my gaze lands on a wedding photo.
It’s of Maggie, without her peachy-pink hair, looking as beautiful as the day is long and wearing all white.
Her veil is over her face, but the way the sun shines through the fabric makes her look ethereal.
She’s holding the arm of someone who I assume is the groom.
“You’re married?”
She turns to see what I am looking at and then back to me. She holds up a finger. “I will not forget to get that answer from you, Doctor.” I smile sheepishly. “But no, I’m divorced. I just love how hot I am in that photo.”
She’s not wrong.
She’s stunning.
“How long were you married?”
“Three years. I married my high school sweetheart, and he decided he wished he hadn’t gotten married so young and wanted to experiment more with people other than me.”
“What a fucking douchecanoe.”
“My dad would totally agree with you,” she says with a chuckle.
“It’s been almost ten years now, and I don’t miss him at all.
I love that picture, however, and it reminds me that even though that marriage failed, my happily-ever-after is out there.
” I watch as she kisses Kip’s nose. “I just gotta find the guy.”
“I bet you have a line of guys waiting for your attention.”
She scoffs loudly. To Kip, she asks, “Are you my guy?”
Kip licks her nose eagerly, and I smile. Then she looks at me. “To your assumption, not even sorta,” she laughs. “But he’s out there.”
The way she says it, with such confidence and hope, leaves me breathless. Hell, I believe her. He is out there, and damn, if I don’t wish it were me.
Could it be me?
When she yawns, I tuck my hands into my pockets. “Why don’t we turn on a movie, relax?”
She eyes me. “You’re really staying?”
“I told you I would,” I say, coming around to sit on the other side of her sectional.
“I want to make sure you’re okay. I have my earbuds in and an alarm set to wake me every hour to check that you’re breathing.
I don’t have appointments in the morning, so if I don’t get enough sleep, I can sleep in a bit. ”
She exhales, and I can tell she’s not fully on board with this. “I feel bad you’re doing this.”
“Don’t. I want to.”
“Good, because I really don’t want to stop talking to you,” she answers quickly, as if she knew I was going to say what I did.
Her honesty hits me in the gut. “Really?”
Maggie’s lips curve just as she curves her finger around Kip’s fur. “Yeah. I’m having fun getting to know you.”
I run my hands down my thighs and then sit back, feeling like I have spiders crawling all over me. “I’m not that interesting.”
When her gaze meets mine, heat burns down my spine. “I beg to differ.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah,” she says softly. “I want to know everything about you.”
I just blink. She does?
“Why?”
She eyes me and then leans over Kip so that she’s near me but not crowding my space. “Can I be honest?”
I chuckle lightly. “I thought you were being honest.”
“Sure, but when someone asks that, it’s because they’re about to be super-super honest.”
I can’t help but grin back, my heart kicking up in time. “Yeah, please. Go ahead.”
“Okay,” she says, clasping her hands. “Were you or were you not flirting with me today?”
I choke on a scoff, and I quickly look down before I chuckle. “Wow, went for the jugular, huh?”
“What! I have to know.”
I roll my lips, then thread my fingers, knowing I look like one of those unconfident nerds who can’t talk to girls, rather than the alpha males she writes, the ones who tell the female main characters how badly they want them.
Men she probably likes.
I inhale deeply as my mind reels.
Put yourself out there.
Fucking Tessa.
I look up, meeting Maggie’s direct gaze. Her cheeks are rosy, and her lips are curved expectantly. Even with the stitches that, I have to say, are perfectly done, she’s a striking woman.
And I want to be honest with her.
“I was being a professional,” I say, and I expect her to be offended by my words.
But that’s not Maggie.
Leaning in with a sneaky smirk, she asks, “Professionally flirting with me?”
I chuckle. “Yes. Yes, I was.”
Her eyes dance with mine. “Then you’re attracted to me.”
I choke once more, shaking my head at her directness.
She reminds me a lot of Tessa in that regard.
That girl doesn’t think a single thought through; she just talks and hopes for the best. “You are a very beautiful woman, the most beautiful woman I have ever seen,” I admit, and when I meet her gaze, hers is still wholly on me.
“But I doubt you asked that because you needed the compliment. You know you’re gorgeous, Maggie. ”
“I do, but I wanted to know if you thought so.”
I hold her gaze. “Why is that?”
“Because I find you very attractive, and I want to get to know you.”
I bite my lip, not daring to look away, even with my face burning. I cup the back of my neck and exhale. “I want to know you too.”