Take A Chance With Me (With Me in Seattle 18) - Page 46

“I love the pub,” she says slowly. “It’s what I know, and I am good at my job.”

“You’re great at it,” I agree.

“But I’ve been thinking more about what Leo offered. The possibility of singing with his band is the opportunity of a lifetime. But wouldn’t it make me a hypocrite if I went?”

I glance down at her and frown. “How so?”

“All I’ve done for the past two years is complain that you’re never home. And now I’m considering a job that takes me literally all over the world, and I don’t know how long the tour runs. It could be weeks or years. I think P!nk’s last tour lasted four years.”

“It doesn’t make you a hypocrite,” I reply. “I think that if it appeals to you, and if they offer, you should try it. I’ll be here. I’m sure I can join you here and there.”

“You’d do that?”

I bring her hand up to my lips. “Of course, I would. I can work anywhere, Maggie.”

We walk into the hotel and to the elevators. Once the doors close, I glance over at her. She smiles at me.

“What are you thinking?” I ask, recognizing the lust in her emerald eyes.

“Have you ever wondered what it would be like to have sex in an elevator?”

And just like that, I’m hard and ready for her. I cup her jawline in one hand and kiss her long and hard, then pull back as her phone rings.

“Just when my deepest sexy fantasy is about to be realized,” she mutters and pulls her phone out of her pocket. “It’s my ma. Hello? You’re kidding. How did you know—? Oh.” She glances at me as the elevator doors open, then follows me down the hall to our room. “Well, we aren’t planning to be back until tomorrow afternoon, but I could probably ask Cam to take us back—okay. You’re sure? Thanks, Ma. Just let me know if you change your mind. Love you. Bye.”

“What happened?” I ask as I unlock the door, and we walk into the room. Maggie blows out a long breath.

“My fridge went out,” she says and scratches her fingertips into her scalp. “It must have happened right after we left because Ma popped over to borrow one of my stockpots, and when she went to look in the fridge for some chicken stock, she found it dead.”

I blink at her.

“I thought your house was fairly new?”

“It’s almost ten years old, and I’m sure none of the appliances were ever replaced before I bought it. But still. When it rains, it pours. At least, I can afford to fix it.”

Her head comes up, and she looks at me with wonder.

“I can afford to fix it, Cam. Just a week ago, I would have been in full panic mode, but I don’t have to panic. I mean, yeah, I’ll lose some food, but I can replace it. I didn’t realize until now what a luxury that is.”

“You’re right,” I agree, remembering days as a kid when my dad couldn’t always afford to keep the lights on. “It’s a good feeling to have that buffer.”

“Now I know how the others feel, and it’s damn nice. I’ve never been one to assume that because all of my siblings are successful, that they owe me anything. That they should just automatically jump in and rescue me. I was raised to take care of myself but always know that my family would help me if I needed them, you know?”

“And yet, you never ask for help. Why is that, Mary Margaret? Any one of them, me included, would have helped you with that damn hot water heater.”

She chews her lip then walks over to the window and looks out at the water.

She does that often. She should live closer to the beach where she can see the view. I know she’d love it.

“I don’t know why.”

And that’s not the truth. There are moments when I still feel like Maggie holds back while confiding in me. Keeps herself from opening up all the way. And it’s damn frustrating.

I join her at the window, wrap my arms around her from behind, and silently stand with her, staring out at the water. The sun has already slid behind the horizon, and the sky is ablaze in orange and pink as boats litter the Sound before us.

“Someday, you’ll open up to me without me having to pry it out of you.”

“I—” She sighs and doesn’t complete the thought. “I’ll get better.”

And that’s all I can ask.

My hand slips up under her light sweater until I feel the warm flesh against my palm. Her head falls back against my shoulder in surrender.

I love how she gives herself over to me so easily. Physically, she’s as free as can be with me, but emotionally? Well, we’re not quite there yet.

Tags: Kristen Proby With Me in Seattle Romance
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