“You are not an average, everyday woman.” His fingers crept up to her cheeks, and he cradled her head between his large hands. “I don’t know what reality you’re living in Maggie, but it sure as hell isn’t mine.”
The dark of his eyes expanded, their lash-framed beauty intense as he stared down at her. “You leave me breathless.”
He pulled her into his embrace, and Maggie rested her head against his chest. She was too weak to protest, and why would she? Why would any woman in her right mind push away someone like Cain? Why was she trying so hard?
She inhaled his scent, reveled in the comfort and feel of him, and the moment would have been perfect, except Shelby, Luke’s dog, decided to exercise her right to bark. And bark. And bark.
“What was that?”
Cain looked down at her. “What?”
“Didn’t you hear that noise?”
He shook his head and glanced out the window into her backyard.
“No, it came from the…” Shit! Maggie slipped from Cain’s embrace and dashed to her front room. She peeked out the window and saw Tommy’s mother, Sharon, opening the passenger door of her Volvo. The top of Michael’s curly head bopped into view, as well as Tommy’s fair one.
Sharon was parked behind Cain’s big SUV, and Maggie ducked as the woman glanced toward her house. She felt like a child caught with her hand in the cookie jar. Pretty damn ridiculous, considering she was an adult. In her own home. But still, this wasn’t good.
“Oh my God, Cain. Michael’s back. I wasn’t expecting him until tomorrow.” Her heart was in her throat. “You need to hide. He can’t know you’re here.” Oh God, this could not be happening.
The one time I decide to have someone stay over, I get busted by my own kid.
Cain peeked through the window and stood with his hands on his hips. She saw the smile and knew he wasn’t nearly as concerned as she. “He’s gonna know I’m here, Mags. That’s my truck in your driveway.”
The blood drained from her face. The hard reality of her night of sin stared right back at her, and the view left her sick to her stomach. Crap. She hadn’t thought of the fact that Luke, Mrs. Nichols across the street, and now Sharon would see Cain’s vehicle in her driveway.
In the morning.
Where it had sat all night. All night while she was having sex. With Cain. A sex marathon.
She groaned. If the entire town didn’t know what had transpired at 45 Linden Street the night before, they’d surely know about it soon. Superman himself would be jealous at the speed at which news like this would travel.
“You need to get dressed.” She pushed Cain toward her bedroom. “Hurry! And…” Her mind whirled in twenty-five different directions. “You just stopped by because—”
A knock sounded at the door, and Cain disappeared down the hall, but not before she caught sight of the wide grin he sported.
Maggie exhaled, smoothed the mess of long tangled hair that fell over her shoulders, and opened the door.
“Sharon,” she exclaimed as if totally surprised, “is everything all right? I wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow.”
“Mom! Is that Cain’s truck? Is he here?” Michael pushed past Tommy’s mother and dragged his buddy along with him.
“Michael John O’Rourke, don’t be rude. Stay where you are.” Please don’t go toward the bedrooms.
She turned back to Sharon, denial on her lips, but dropped any pretense of lying almost immediately. The woman was staring at her with an all-knowing look, her eyes doing a quick once-over from the top of Maggie’s disheveled hair to the bottom of her fancy painted toes.
“But is he here?” Michael asked.
“He stopped by to help me with something.”
Was that a snort?
She eyed Sharon closely.
“Help you with what?”
Oh God, was her own seven-year-old going to put her through the ringer?