Chapter 40
Forty
I have tumbled into the most adorable creature I’ve ever beheld in my life. I push up with my arms, my elbows and forearms on the ground, and peer down into Maggie’s face. “Are you okay?”
With her hair flared on the ground, she squints up at me, one hand rising to rub at where my head bopped hers. “I can’t completely breathe, but otherwise I’m fine.”
My brows cinch. “You can’t breathe?”
“Well, no. Not well.” She takes one long blink before staring at me. “You’re sort of crushing me.”
“Oh.” I lift my chest from hers and rise onto my hands.
“Ahem.” Someone in white tennis shoes and standing just to the side of us clears their throat. “Lemonade?”
Still on her back, Maggie’s eyes dart to the left to look at the intruder. Her mother. Then again, this is her mother’s house. I suppose if anyone is intruding, it’s me. “Ohh—”
“I’ll take some.” I move myself until I’m standing over Maggie, my hand out to help her up. “Thank you, Mrs. McCrae.”
The woman’s cheeks redden. “Please, call me Hailey.”
I’m still smiling at the older woman when Maggie’s hand slips into mine. I pull her up, possibly too forcefully. Her chest bumps mine, and I grab both her upper arms to steady her.
“Goodness,” Hailey says. “Are you okay, sweetheart?”
“Uh, yes. Fine.” But she squeezes her eyes shut. “Maybe a little lightheaded. But fine.”
“Maybe you should sit in the hammock,” Hailey says.
“No!” Maggie takes one step away from Wyatt’s cozy little seat and me. “Not necessary.” But it’s not all that convincing as she sways again.
“Heavens, Maggie Pie,” Hailey balks. “Come inside. You need to sit.” The sliding back door is still wide open. Hailey walks toward it, the two glasses of lemonade in her hands.
“Don’t worry, Mrs. McCrae, I’ve got her.”
I take one step toward Maggie, who holds a finger out to me.
“Lucca Cruz, I swear, if you try to pick me up, I will knee you in the groin, then vomit all over your shoes.”
My brow furrows. “Knee me?”
Her head bobbles in a shake. “I—I just think I need a little space. Okay?”
I nod. “Okay. Seeing how you also need help getting inside, I’ll give you space in four minutes—five max.”
“Five—” she mumbles as I wrap one arm around her waist and begin walking her into the house.
“I’m fine,” she grumbles.
“I know. And it’s okay. Sometimes—”
“I know. I know,” she says with a groan. “You have this effect on women.”
I laugh. “At times. But that isn’t what I was going to say. I was going to say sometimes the combination of spinning and falling takes a minute to wear off.”
“Oh. Right.”
“This way,” Hailey says when we step inside. “Sit her down in the living room.” She sets both glasses of lemonade on a coffee table in front of a blue plaid couch.
I do as she says and Maggie happily plops herself onto the cushion.
“You’d best sit next to her, Lucca,” Hailey says.
Again, I do as the woman instructs. I’ve never been so happy to comply.
“Hold her hand. When Maggie was a little girl and sick, she always wanted a hand to hold.”
Maggie crosses her arms. “Mom, I—”
“Here’s the remote,” Hailey says, cutting her off. “Find her something soothing and she’ll be right as rain soon enough.”
The woman leaves, and I reach for Maggie’s hands. She tightens her fold. “Mother’s orders,” I say, pulling one of her arms out of its fold and entwining our fingers. This is exactly where I like Maggie—next to me, hand in mine.
“Lucca, you don’t have to stay.”
“I’d like to stay. I need to see you… right as rainbows.”
She smirks. “Fine. But I get the remote.”
I don’t even have to prod to get her head on my shoulder. I wrap one arm around her and hold her hand in my other. I hold her close, making the world right again. I rest my head on hers and breathe in the scent of her fruity shampoo.
“Maggie McCrae,” I hum, just above a whisper. I’m not even sure she’s heard me. No matter—I was talking to myself anyway.
Her breaths are even, and our baking show is halfway through the competition when Maggie speaks. I thought she might be asleep. “Just tell me this: How many women have you loved?”
“One,” I say. “My vovó. I suppose that’s not what you meant. But I loved her more than any other woman.”
“That’s sweet. Not at all what I meant, but sweet.”
“Aw.” I move my lips to her temple. “You meant—” I say, speaking into her soft skin.
“How many women have I wooed?” I tilt my head, but she isn’t looking at me.
Her still body tells me she is listening closely.
“Many. It’s true. Or maybe you meant how many women have I taken on dates? Again, many. Or maybe—”
“Got it. Straight answer. Thank you,” Maggie says, stirring a little in my arms.
“Or maybe you meant how many women have I lain with, just listening to the sound of their breathing, while taking in the scent of their hair?”
She stills.
“One. Just one. Or maybe you meant how many women have I texted unceasingly, though hope of a reply was slim? One. Or maybe you meant how many women have made me insane with their strong will and obstinate, brilliant minds? Just one.”
She tilts her head, peering up at me.
“Or maybe you meant how many women have I watched hours and hours of video on just to try and understand them better? Just—”
Maggie stretches her neck, leans closer, and plants her lips on mine. I gladly shut up. I cup her cheek, kissing her back, researching every corner of her lips. Maggie is soft and sensual and completely mesmerizing. She is the one and only.
When she pulls away, her honey-brown eyes search mine. Her teeth clamp down on her bottom lip, and she breathes out a hiss. “We are in so much trouble.”