An Innocent Thanksgiving

But now, I was standing in front of the mirror smoothing my tie and wondering if I was really enough. Of course I had been enough once, enough for Maggie to pretty much seduce me, but she’d been twenty, and a virgin. She’d never been with anyone else.

Fuck, that memory still made me go hot all over. Knowing that I was the first one, the only one, at least at the time. God knew who she’d been with since. But back then it had only been me.

And I’d fucked it up.

Five years later, who knew how many handsome men she’d seen and been with? Who knew how many people she’d seen and done things with? Was I really going to be impressive to her, still?

Well, it was five forty-five and there was nothing for it. I had to go pick her up and I wasn’t going to be late and give her a chance to back out or think that I was standing her up.

This would have to do.

I pulled up in front of her house, ready to go, except Maggie was already stepping out and walking quickly down the front walk. She clearly didn’t want me to go into the house—probably didn’t want Fern to get distracted and ask questions about what her mother was doing with Uncle Cal. I could respect that, actually. This whole thing—being in Fern’s life—was new and we wouldn’t want to introduce her to too many new things at once. Especially as Maggie and I struggled to figure out what it was, exactly, that we were to each other.

But holy shit.

I was yanked from my contemplative thoughts as Maggie slipped into the car, moving too fast for me to get out and get the door for her, and I got a good look at what she was wearing. Green had always looked good on her, complimented her hazel eyes and blonde hair, and right now was no exception. She was in a tight number that hugged her curves, some of which hadn’t been there before her pregnancy, and my mouth went completely dry. I had to swallow a few times to try and get some kind of moisture back in.

Never in my life had I seen Maggie so dressed up. Her hair was styled, curling around her shoulders in an artful tumble, and she’d done a bit of makeup around her eyes, dark smudges of eye shadow that brought out the shades of amber in her eyes. Her lipstick wasn’t the typical bright red but something a bit darker, a smudge of almost-burgundy on her mouth that made me want to lean in and kiss it until it was all wiped away and faded from my lips and tongue.

Maggie arched an eyebrow at me. “You all right there, cowboy?” she asked.

Even as she said it, I felt her gaze sliding over my body, her eyes darkening a little, like she was checking me out but trying to hide it. I felt a purr of satisfaction in my chest.

“Right, sorry.” I started up the car again. I was literally twice her age and here I was acting like a teenage schoolboy, what the fuck. Only Maggie could reduce me to this kind of mess. “You look beautiful.”

Maggie quickly turned her face away, but I saw her cheeks turning red, heating up. “You don’t clean up so bad yourself,” she replied.

Since she was turning away from me, I figured it was safe to let myself grin in triumph.

I really had no idea how I got us to the restaurant. All I wanted to do was look at Maggie. Hell, even when we sat down, I just asked the waiter to bring me whatever his favorite dish was, whatever he felt tasted best.

Now, I wasn’t exactly a food connoisseur, but I usually put a little more damn thought into what I ordered than that. Not right now, though. All I could do was look at Maggie, and wonder about how I’d been such an idiot to pine over her for five years without even realizing git, missing out on this for five years.

“Oh,” I said as the waiter started to leave, “And a bottle of wine.”

The waiter gave me a decidedly amused look and then nodded, walking away with our menus.

Yeah, even the random waiter could tell that I was sunk in it.

Maggie’s face was bright pink from her blushing. “Sorry,” I said, again. “I know I shouldn’t be staring.”

“You’re fine.” Maggie’s blush didn’t go away. “It’s just been a while since… I’ve gotten dressed up and I was feeling really nervous.”

“You shouldn’t be,” I assured her. “You look amazing. Honestly.”

The waiter returned with our wine. I thanked him and then looked back at Maggie. “Honestly, you’re entrancing. Green was always your best color.”

“It’s one of Jenn’s,” Maggie admitted. “We’re the same size, mostly, but her clothes are just a little tight on me so I never know…”