Teresa Southwick - The Widow's Bachelor Bargain

He whispered against her mouth, “Any more questions?”

“Hmm?” The only question on her mind was why he wasn’t still kissing her. “I can’t think of any.”

“Okay, then.” He slid his arms around her and pulled her close, then kissed her again.

It felt so good to be held and touched, wrapped in a pair of strong arms and pressed against a man’s body. She was pretty sure her toes were actually curling, and it was the most wonderful thing that had happened to her for longer than she could remember.

Time seemed to stop and she wanted to stay suspended in this sensuous dimension. Right here, right now, while she kissed Sloan Holden on her patio under the stars, there was no guilt, worry or doubt about being a single mom. She was simply a woman enjoying everything about being female and savoring this bold man who wasn’t afraid of a challenge. Sloan slid his fingers into her hair, cupping her head to make the pressure of their mouths more firm. His breathing was unsteady and it was thrilling to know she’d affected him, too.

And then she heard Danielle cry out. The sound came through the open window and reality rushed back like a slap in the face. She was a mother first and foremost. Maggie froze, waiting, and the sound came again, pouring in along with guilt, worry and even more doubt about her ability to do a decent job of raising her child alone. Look how easily this man had distracted her.

She took two steps back, away from the warmth of his body, and hating herself for missing it. “I need to check on my daughter.”

“Right. Of course.” He dragged his fingers through his hair. “Do I need to apologize for that?”

“Is that what your gut is telling you to do?”

He shook his head. “But the look on your face right now is making me think it might be a good idea.”

What he was seeing on her face probably had more to do with astonishment. She had believed the part of her that could be turned on had died with her husband. But she was so wrong. Sloan had stirred something up and she wanted to settle it back down again.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for. It was my fault.” She played with her fingers, twisting them together nervously. “I have to go to Danielle.”

And begin the process of forgetting about this kiss.

* * *

Several days went by and Maggie realized she was looking at time passing and putting it in two columns: before and after that kiss. She saw Sloan at breakfast and dinner, doing her best to go back to being his hospitable, professional but friendly landlady and not the woman who’d challenged him to kiss her. She talked to him as little as possible and he didn’t push the issue by striking up a conversation. And there was a conclusion to be drawn from that. He regretted the kiss, too.

She set a platter of scrambled eggs and hash browns on the dining room table, where Sloan and Josie were sitting. The fruit and freshly baked muffins were already there.

“Can I freshen anyone’s coffee?” she asked.

“I’m good.” Sloan barely glanced up from the newspaper he was reading.

“Me, too.” Josie was giving her a quizzical look.

“All right, then. Let me know if you need anything.” She left the room.

Her daughter sat in the high chair eating half a banana. If she hadn’t been, she would have been bugging Sloan. As if Maggie needed another one, that was a good reason to back off from him. And that was what she’d been doing, pretty successfully, in her opinion.

A half hour later, Sloan said goodbye and headed for the door. Danielle called out, “Bye-bye,” and wiggled her fingers in her version of a wave. That earned the little girl a big grin from Sloan, but Maggie was the one who felt the power of it. And a pang of disappointment that he hadn’t aimed the warmth at her.

Josie brought plates and platters into the kitchen. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

“I’d be happy to if you’d be more specific.”

The other woman started rinsing off plates and putting them in the dishwasher. “I’m talking about you and Sloan. Since he arrived, there’s been a nice friendly vibe going on between the two of you. And in the past couple days it’s changed. You barely speak, and it can only be described as awkward. What the heck happened?”

That kiss happened , Maggie thought. She’d gone over it a thousand times. He never would have done it if she hadn’t put the suggestion out there. Over and over she wondered why she had. Maybe the glass of wine. Possibly it was all the flirty talk and leg touching while sitting beside him at Bar None. The lingering effects of that might have made those fateful words come out of her mouth. Oh, how she wanted them back.

Josie was a friend as well as one of her boarders. But Maggie was proceeding on the hope that not talking about what happened on the patio would make it go away.

“You think we’re acting awkward?”

“And how.” Standing by the sink, Josie put a hand on her hip. “And don’t think I didn’t notice that you just answered a question with a question and gave no information at all.”

Maggie was kind of hoping that one had slipped by, but no such luck. “Would I do that?”

“Seriously, Maggie? You just did it again. That only confirms my suspicion that there’s something going on with the two of you.”

“Knock, knock.” The front door opened and in walked Maggie’s mom, Maureen O’Keefe. She had brown eyes and dark hair shot through with silver, cut in a piecey style with the back flipped up. She smiled at Danielle, then walked over and cupped her granddaughter’s small face in both hands before kissing her forehead. “Hello, my precious little girl.”

“Hi, Mom.” Maggie was grateful for the distraction. “Once upon a time I was your precious girl.”

“You still are.” Her mom walked over and cupped her face in her hands, then kissed her forehead. “Hi, Josie. Are we still on for shopping?”

“Just as soon as your precious girl—the grown-up one—comes clean about what’s going on between her and the new guy.”

Maureen’s brown eyes turned wary. “There’s something going on? Between you and Sloan Holden? I’m going to have to meet him.”

“Oh, please—” Maggie tried to look as innocent as possible.

“See?” Josie pointed at her. “That’s the kind of answer I’ve been getting. Which is to say no answer at all. You’re her mother. Surely you can get her to talk.”

“Can you give me a little context?” Maureen said.

“I can see where that would help.” Josie thought for a moment. “Like I just said to Maggie—since he got here things have been friendly and fun. Easy. That changed a couple of days ago and you’d think we’re having another ice age the way these two act. Makes me want to put on a parka every time they’re in the same room.”

The two older women stared at her expectantly and Maggie squirmed. She felt like a kid caught doing something wrong when her only motive was to try to do the right thing. “It’s all about being a professional. Creating a comfortable, uncomplicated space for my guests. I’ve never run a bed-and-breakfast before, so I’m experimenting with just the right feeling and mood.”

Maggie saw a look on her mom’s face and not for the first time wished the woman couldn’t see through her like a piece of clear plastic.

“Really?” Maureen said skeptically. “I know you, Margaret Mary Potter.”

Uh-oh. It was never good when her mom used all three names. Made her want to walk herself into a corner and face the wall until she was told her time-out was over. “Yes, you do.”

“Josie’s right. Something is up and you’re avoiding it like the black death. What did that man do to you?”