Her envy led her to call her sister, which wasn’t that bad. They had a lengthy conversation, and for once, they didn’t discuss anything sad.
The day had turned out to be warm, so Maggie swept the front porch, hosed off her siding where mud had caked from winter, and turned the soil in the flower beds. The daffodils would be sprouting soon.
“Now, you keep them frozen until you’re ready to eat them, then bake at three-fifty for one hour. No need to thaw. Any questions, just call.”
Maggie’s head lifted as the voices traveled from Ryan’s back door. She peeked around the side of the shed and watched as a redheaded woman and burly man stepped onto Ryan’s back porch.
“Thanks, Aunt Maureen.”
“The house is lovely, Ryan. Frank, let’s go! I got soup on the stove.” Maggie watched as the rotund older woman hugged Ryan and pried open the door to a vintage Jeep. “Sorry we missed the party, but someone had to watch all the babies.”
“That’s okay. Thanks for all the frozen meals.”
“They should keep you well-fed until the end of summer. Do yourself a favor and eat my dishes first. I’m a better cook than your mother.” The woman glared at the back door and yelled, “Frank! I haven’t got all day.”
“I’m coming, woman! For the love of Christ, stop your yelling.”
“Bye, Uncle Frank.”
The man grumbled and climbed into the Jeep. When it pulled away, Ryan hopped the fence. “Do you think no one can see you hiding down there in the dirt?”
Maggie poked her head up. “I’m not hiding.”
“You could have said hi.”
She could have but she didn’t want to. “Are you expecting any more visitors?”
He shook his head. “Nope. And I plan on kidnapping you and locking my door. I might even give my phone a bath.”
She stood and brushed the dirt off her gloves, then discarded them to the ground. “Kidnapping, huh? I’ll have to check my schedule to see if I can fit you in. I already have a burglary planned for six, and a bank heist penciled in for midnight.”
He sauntered closer, and she backed up toward the shed. “I don’t think you understand kidnapping. As the kidnappee, you don’t get a choice in the matter.”
“Huh. Interesting.” She reached down to the grass and picked up the hose, angling the nozzle in his direction. “Well, I hope you prepared for a fight, because I’m not going to make this easy.”
“You wouldn’t.”
She sprayed him and he lunged. Her scream exploded into laughter when he caught her around the waist, lifting her off her feet and pulling her to his soaked chest.
Her legs kicked as he hoisted her off the ground. By the time he carried her off her property and onto his, she gave up fighting and saved her strength.
He carried her into his house and slammed the door, locking it behind him. Boxes of household supplies lined the hall and filled the living room. He paused at the cluttered futon and shifted her body to better support her legs, now cradling her in a rescue hold against his wet chest. She looped her arms around his shoulders and waited.
He glanced up the stairs and back to her. “Any objections to seeing my bedroom?”
Her belly tightened and flipped. “Let me see your phone.”
He reached in his pocket and handed it to her. She tossed it onto the futon. “To your room we go.”
He carried her up the stairs, his breath steady and his strides sure. His house was the identical design to hers, only the rooms were flipped to face the opposite direction.
The master bedroom was sparse with only a double bed and dresser. A simple green comforter lay over the sheets, not a decorative touch in sight.
He tossed her onto the bed, and she bounced into the pillows. “Thanks to you, my shirt’s soaked.”
He peeled the damp material over his head, and she sobered. Tattoos completely covered his chest and upper arms. Roped muscle carved his torso and chiseled his hips, forming the deep V that sloped into his jeans where strawberry blond hair trailed.
She swallowed and blinked. “You’re really in shape.”
“Not as much as I used to be. Sitting at a desk all week kills me.”
She loved seeing him like this, exposed and revealed. He was beautiful. Different.
She rose to her knees, emboldened by the sight of his body. Without thinking too hard, she pulled her hooded sweatshirt over her head and tossed it to the floor. With the whoosh of her clothes came a shock of brazen pride mixed with trepidation.
His blue eyes went wide. “Holy shit.”
“Sometimes it feels like I’ll die an old lady, waiting to be normal again.” She glanced down at her black bra. It wasn’t anything special. No lace or padding, just satin. Her gaze returned to him. “But when I’m with you, I sometimes forget how weird I am. You make me feel slightly normal.”