Chapter Two
“I need to see your foot, princess.”
Even before Maggie’s gaze collided with golden brown honey that twinkled with merriment that couldn’t be missed even in the dim light, she knew who had sought her out.
She’d always had good awareness of what was around her, but since losing part of her hearing, her other senses had kicked into overdrive.
Never quite to this level, though, because she’d felt him coming toward her.
She wasn’t surprised that he had. There had been something in the way he’d looked at her that she’d known their paths would cross before the night ended.
Half an hour had passed. She had taken up residence on an away-from-the-crowd garden bench with a clear view of the back side of the house where most of the partygoers were gathered.
Sitting in her gown hadn’t been easy, but after making sure the bench was clean, she’d tucked the full, gauzy skirt to the side.
She’d noticed when Prince Charming had gone inside twenty minutes prior.
Had he put the baby he no longer held in Jeannie’s room?
Sarah and Bodie’s little girl was two, and they still had a crib set up in her nursery with a monitor. Was the baby he’d held his?
Brows knitting, Maggie eyed the man who’d just asked to see her foot. “Excuse you?”
Chuckling, he repeated himself. “Play along, princess. It’s imperative that I see your foot.”
Maggie’s toes curled inside her slippers. “That’s not happening.”
Unfazed, his eyes twinkled. Or, perhaps, what she saw was just the reflection of the firepit blaze dancing in their depths. “That’s not how the fairy tale goes.”
Fairy tales didn’t exist, not in reality. For a short while, Maggie had thought they might. Life had reminded her they were nothing more than childish fantasies and that she should have known better.
“I’m not interested. Go find yourself another princess.”
“I’m sorry to hear that because I’m positive that legend has it this only fits one woman.
” He pulled a clear plastic women’s shoe from a deep pocket on his prince costume’s flouncy shirt tail that must have been designed for just the purpose of storing the slipper. “You may be the princess of my dreams.”
Maggie’s cheeks burned but she held his golden gaze.
She lifted her chin. “I can assure you that isn’t the case. I’m no princess.” Although she’d bet money that the clear shoe he held was the match to the one on her foot and would, indeed, fit. “Plus, it would seem that perhaps you’ve already met the princess of your dreams.”
“Zoie?” Grinning, his face filled with pride. “She is my little princess, but my daughter wasn’t exactly what I meant.”
Daughter. So, maybe he was a Prince-Not-So-Charming.
“Nor me,” she clarified. “Zoie’s mother?”
“Is no longer in mine and Zoie’s lives of her own choosing.” Maggie’s confusion must have shown because he added, “The woman you saw earlier is my sister, Amy, not my ex-wife. Amy is very much a part of our lives. Linda is not.”
His sister. Not his ex-wife. Maggie swallowed a huge lump.
Thinking of him as a cad who’d been making eyes with her would have made things easier than thinking of him as a jilted husband and father who had lit up at taking his daughter.
What woman would walk away from him? From her child?
Maggie’s useless womb ached at the thought of it.
“You’re wasting your time.” A fact. “Like I said, I’m no princess.”
And he was no prince. Men were generally villains in Maggie’s life story. Lukas and Bodie were good guys, but they were a rarity, the exception rather than the rule. Time could prove her wrong there, too, though. She still didn’t understand why either was helping her.
“You’re not?” Eyeing her costume, the prince feigned confusion. “For the record, that’s the worst pirate’s costume I’ve ever seen.”
Surprised by his unexpected comment, Maggie laughed.
She hadn’t meant to, but his goofy humor got to her.
She’d like to say the sound that spontaneously escaped her lips had been an annoyed snort, but it hadn’t.
He’d made her laugh. That realization had her staring at him in awe.
How long had it been since she’d laughed a real laugh?
And over something so benign as a joke about a costume?
“I’m Walker Mathieson, by the way.” He held out his hand, clear slipper and all. Walker, not Walter. Unusual name, but it fit as there was no telling how many hearts he’d walked all over during his lifetime.
“Not Prince Charming?” Maggie arched her brow. “Shocker.”
The corners of his eyes crinkled. “I’ve been called worse royally.”
He didn’t withdraw the hand she’d not taken.
He was Sarah and Bodie’s guest. Maggie was their guest. She needed to use good manners.
Plus, since he was single, he hadn’t done anything wrong.
Other than grab her attention, have dimples, wink at her, look completely at ease with a baby, seek out her company, and make her laugh a real laugh when she’d not done so in longer than she could remember.
All of which was terrible.
“I’ve no doubt that you have been called a royal pain.
” Holding his gaze, she loosely shook his hand.
Loosely was enough to note the strength beneath his work-roughened palm.
She could feel its strength yet had witnessed his gentleness in how he’d held the baby.
There was something disturbing about his hand against hers.
What was she thinking? Everything about him was disturbing, from his shiny, too long brown hair to those golden eyes to those blasted dimples to how sweetly he’d looked at his daughter.
“Now, about this shoe…” He let his words dangle. “Are you going to let me try it on you to see if it’s a perfect fit?”
He wasn’t getting anywhere near her feet.
But, darn, if the image of him holding her bare foot to slip on the shoe didn’t appear in her head.
Wondering what had been in her cider, Maggie glanced toward where Sarah and the blue-haired granny had been joined by a couple of other older women near the firepit.
She recognized them as Sarah’s godmothers from when Sarah had introduced them earlier in the evening.
Maggie would swear they’d been looking her way, but if so, they’d all quickly averted their gazes and were chatting as if they were having a blast. Trusting her instinct, Maggie knew the women had been watching the short exchange and was embarrassed that anyone might have witnessed her unexpected, breathy response to Walker’s handshake.
“That shoe isn’t for me.” She was ready for him to move on.
She’d liked the solace she’d found on the bench away from the others, yet still being able to have Sarah in sight.
“Keep searching,” she told him. “It looks to be about an eight. That’s a common size.
You’re sure to stumble upon the right princess.
I’ve noticed a few running around here tonight. ”
Rather than leave, he lingered, his eyes daring her to give him a chance.
Once upon a time, Maggie would have welcomed any challenge, even one that hinted at the temptation he represented.
Not anymore, and especially not that particular type of challenge at this particular point in time.
She couldn’t rock the boat, wouldn’t risk giving Lukas any reason to doubt her.
She wanted to work for iSecure, to regain her wings even if she couldn’t return to her military career.
She flinched at the thought. She could never return to the life she’d once had. That was a terrifying thought. One that had driven her to do things she shouldn’t have done.
“You really don’t believe in fairy tales?” Walker asked.
“No.” Maggie believed in cold, hard facts, and that life was tough.
Nothing more. She’d never let herself be fooled into thinking something more existed. She’d scraped the bottom of the barrel, wallowed through the mire of disillusionment, and fought her way out of the depression that had besieged her at all she’d lost.
“Our costumes are a match. That has to mean something.”
Perhaps in Romanticaland it would be some meet-cute where their stars had aligned just right. Or maybe even in Pine Hill. But not when it came to Maggie. “It means that my costume is borrowed from Sophie Aaron. My guess is that you borrowed yours from her husband.”
“Good guess,” he conceded, sitting down on the bench beside her, taking care not to smush her dress’s skirt.
“I work with Cole at the fire department. He hooked me up when I mentioned I needed a costume. I stopped by Sophie’s shop so she could alter it to a perfect fit and help me put together Zoie’s pumpkin outfit.
I was impressed with how well she did with both of us. You, too, for that matter.”
The Prince Charming costume was a perfect fit across his broad shoulders and tall body.
He looked as if it had been made for him.
Maggie should have stuck with a simple mask as she’d originally suggested.
The poofy dress was enough to make her feel awkward without Walker adding to her fish out of water sensation, not just at the party, but from the moment she’d arrived in Pine Hill.
“Come on,” he continued, “you have to admit there’s something fun about the first time we are meeting we’re dressed as Prince Charming and his princess.”
She was not his princess. Maggie shook her head. “That’s nothing more than a small-town coincidence.”
“Coincidence instead of romantic?” He tsked his tongue. “We’re going to have to refresh your memory on how that fairy tale goes.”
Maggie’s heart squeezed. She knew how fairy tales went in real life. They ended with a broken heart.
“Romance is just as make believe as everything else about this party.” She straightened her shoulders beneath the shimmery material. “You really are wasting your breath, which is a shame since there are so many lovely ladies here who might appreciate your, uhm, shoe. I’m just not one of them.”