The Summer He Came Home Part 32

"I hope you don't mind that I came over." He took a step closer to her. "I know you told me it was over last night and to stay away, but Maggie, I-"

"Cain, I don't know if I can do this." She was so confused.

He held his hands up. "I won't take long. I have to get something off my chest, and I need for you to know where I stand. Because I sure as h.e.l.l don't have a clue as to where your head's at, Maggie. Maybe you'll share that with me soon, I hope you will, but for now I just want you to listen."

Maggie slid onto the edge of the sofa. She had no energy left at all and was pretty much running on fumes.

"I love you."

Maggie's chest constricted at his words, and even if she wanted to respond, there was no way that she could. It was impossible. The part of her brain that controlled vocal chords had just taken a trip south, and she was speechless.

Cain stared at her from a few feet away, his tobacco-colored waves wild, tinged with new streaks of sunlight. His dark eyes glittered, their depths filled with emotion. She tore her eyes away and her gaze fell to his mouth. That was the wrong thing to do.

He had a way of making a woman forget, and with the stakes this high, Maggie needed her wits about her. He didn't give her a chance, of course, because he plunged forward and paced across her small living room as he spoke.

"I've said those three words to a few women in my day. I've sang them every single night on stage, but until now, I can honestly say I've never really felt them. It's so d.a.m.n easy to say you love someone, because they're just words. I love you. Three little words. But it's the feeling behind those words that's hard. It's the feelings that make them matter."

Cain paused inches from her. She held her hands tightly in her lap when all she wanted to do was lose them in the thick waves at his nape and pull him close.

"Do you believe in fate, Maggie?" It wasn't a question really, because he plunged forward without giving her a chance to answer. "I do. I believe that everything happens for a reason. Karma is real and will either b.i.t.c.h-slap or embrace you when you least expect it. I believe that there are people who come into our lives for different reasons. Some leave, and there are others that are meant to stay. Keepers."

He moved closer still until the warmth of his breath caressed her cold skin. But he didn't touch her. He didn't need to. His words were physical. They slid across her skin and settled into her soul.

"I've got several guitars back in LA. Some are worth a fair bit of money, but only one of them means the world to me and is a keeper. It's the guitar my mom gave me."

His hand reached for her, and she leaned her cheek into his palm. "I don't know if I'm making sense, but that's what you are to me Maggie, a keeper. I need you in my life."

He was breathing heavy, and when his hand left her cheek, taking his warmth with it, she whimpered softly.

He stared at her long and hard, and when he spoke there was a surety to his words that grabbed her, that made her believe. "I know you've got secrets and pain and a whole bunch of s.h.i.t I know nothing about. But I'm not going away. I want to make this work...this thing we have between us. And yeah, my life might be different than Luke Jensen's or Doctor Harding's, but I think we could make it work. I think we should at least try." His ran his fingers through his hair, a gesture she'd come to love. "You have to know I'd never do anything to hurt you or Michael."

"Cain, I-"

"And the pictures... I should have known Natasha would pull something crazy like sending the d.a.m.n paparazzi after us."

He nodded toward her window and tossed a set of keys onto the table beside the plaid chair.

"You know where I stand. I want you to take some time and think about what I said. About us. About being honest with each other and sharing everything. Will you do that?"

Maggie nodded in silence.

"Good, but fair warning. I'm pretty d.a.m.n relentless when I want something."

Her heart skipped a beat at the look in his eyes.

"I want you and Michael." He shrugged. "It's that simple. I'm leaving you my truck, so there's no excuse for you not to come out to the football field."

Cain's eyes smoldered, his gaze resting on her mouth, and she thought that maybe he'd come to her. She found her body leaning forward, antic.i.p.ating. Instead he turned and left her to the quiet of her home. Maggie sank back to the sofa and touched her mouth. He hadn't kissed her, but she felt a burn nonetheless.

She closed her eyes and fought the hot and cold that claimed her body in waves.

What the h.e.l.l just happened?

Chapter 33.

Maggie slept in.

When the sun began to rise in the sky, when those first golden rays cut through the dark Michigan night, she was dead to it all. She lay on her side, cuddling a large pillow in much the same way she'd clung to Cain every night that he was in her bed.

Her small bungalow was silent, and it wasn't until nearly nine thirty that she rolled over and opened her eyes a crack. She winced, not used to the bright sunlight that shone into her room. She'd been so tired the night before that she'd barely managed to get her teeth brushed, had pulled on a T-shirt and bottoms and crawled into bed without closing the blinds. Considering a pervert had been in her backyard only a few days ago, not a smart move, but one she'd blame on exhaustion.

After Cain left, she'd done a lot of soul-searching, and she realized a few things about herself. Not all of it good.

Cain was right. She was using her past as a shield to keep him away. How could she not? Everyone who mattered to her had left, either physically or emotionally.

Then Dante had come along, and at first things had been great. Like a starving urchin, she'd clung to him for the love and emotional support that she'd lost. She'd fancied herself in love with him, had been blind to the monster that lived inside of him, and in the end he'd pounced on the bruised young woman she was and broken her spirit.

But he'd also given her something wonderful...a child to love and to take care of. A child to keep safe and happy. Michael was her reason for everything.

But what kind of example was she really? Hiding in Crystal Lake? Afraid to stand up for herself...to stand up for Michael.

She wanted to believe that she was better than that. She had to be better than that, or what was the point?

She'd lain awake for hours, and when she finally fell asleep a decision had been made.

Maggie rolled over, saw the time on the clock and shrieked, rolled over once more, and promptly fell out of her bed. She landed on the floor, and her head barely missed the corner of the bedpost.

c.r.a.p! They were going to miss the parade!

Her cell went off as she stumbled down the hall, and she skipped the bathroom, her bare feet shuffling along the hardwood as she headed into the kitchen. She'd remembered to plug in the d.a.m.n thing the night before, at least, and it was working.

She didn't have caller ID and hoped her disappointment didn't ring too loudly when she answered and heard Raine on the other end.

"Maggie, where the h.e.l.l were you yesterday? I called, like, twenty times, drove by your place, and you didn't answer. You weren't there." Accusation rang in her voice, and Maggie winced.

"Raine, I'm sorry. My phone was dead."

"Your phone was dead. Unbelievable."

"I forgot to charge it. I'm sorry."

"Don't do that again. After everything you said the other night, I was afraid you'd packed up and left without so much as a good-bye."

Michael appeared, sleep still in his eyes and his curls a mad-looking cap of tangles. "Hold on, Raine."

Maggie kissed her son quickly and pointed to the bathroom. "Why don't you go and shower now. We don't want to miss the parade."

His eyes lit up, and a wide grin spread across his face. "Okay. Can I grab a granola bar first? I'm hungry."

She nodded. "You still there?"

"Yes." Raine paused. "So, you sound like you're in a much better place than you were the other night."

"I am." Lord, you have no idea. "Cain came by last night."

"He did." A hint of naughty entered Raine's voice, and Maggie smiled. "Is he there now?"

"No, he was only here for five minutes."

Maggie walked back to the living room and stared out the window. Cain's truck still sat there. She glanced down at the keys on the small table. It had been real.

"Oh."

Maggie smiled as she grabbed his keys and fingered the large black and silver fob.

"Are you going to tell me what happened, O'Rourke, or am I going to have to come by and shake it out of you?"

"He told me that he loved me." Her words rushed from her in a whisper, and hearing them once more made it all the more real.

Silence greeted her confession, and after a few seconds, Maggie spoke again. "Raine?"

"Yes, I'm still here. What did you tell him?"

"Nothing. He didn't give me a chance. He gave me the night to think things over. He wants me to be sure about how I feel."

"And how do you feel, Maggie?"

I love him.

"Mom, I need to talk to you."

Maggie's smile fled when she glanced down at her son. His tearstained face looked up at her, and she felt her heart crack at the sight.

"Raine, I gotta go. I'll see you later."

Maggie tossed her cell onto the kitchen counter and scooped Michael into her arms. His small body trembled against her, and he fought to control the sobs that were burrowed inside him.

"Baby, what's wrong?" She ran her hands along his cheeks and tugged gently so that she could look into his eyes. What the h.e.l.l had happened in the shower?

A long, shuddering breath was released, and he was finally calm. One single tear glistened along his eyelash, and she kissed it away.

"I'm sorry, Mommy. I was in the shower and started to think about how much I was going to miss Tommy and this house"-he shuddered and pointed outside-"the birdhouse out back, and Cain...and I got really sad." He wiped his eyes. "I'll even miss Shelby, and she p.o.o.ps all over our gra.s.s."

"Oh Michael, I'm so sorry. Honey, I did a lot of thinking last night." She tightened her arms around him and drew him close to her chest. "It would be wrong to leave right now, to run away and start over because we're afraid of...your dad." Maggie struggled to breathe as a wash of emotion flooded her. "I don't want us to live in fear."

A hiccup escaped from Michael, and a tremulous smile crept over his face. "We're gonna stay in Crystal Lake?"

She kissed him, gave him a big hug, and didn't let go. "I can't think of any other place I want to be."

Maggie cradled Michael's face in her hands and stared down into his dewy eyes. "Cain told me what you saw." Her lip trembled, but she refused to cry as her thoughts turned to the past. She forced herself to speak. "I want you to know that what happened between me and your father wasn't healthy, and I'm so sorry that you had to see some of that ugliness." She searched his eyes and felt him stiffen. Dante had never reached out to his son. Never touched him the way Cain did.

"What if he finds us?" Michael whispered.

Maggie stared at her son, at the cla.s.sic lines that defined his features. He was very much like Dante, and he'd grow into a handsome man one day. Thank G.o.d, he'd never inherited the mean streak and blackness that lived inside her husband.

Just thinking about Dante made her sick. He represented so much that was unfinished in her life. So much that she'd run from. She glanced at the clock. She'd deal with that mess, but first, a parade.

"Don't worry about that. Today is football and Cain's concert, okay?" She kissed him once more, her hands lingering on his shoulders as she steered him toward the fridge. "I think you need to eat some breakfast while I shower, and then if we hurry, we'll make the parade before it reaches the end of Main Street."

Michael's face lit up and he nodded, his curls bobbing and the one that she loved straying over his brow. He pushed it away impatiently. "Awesome! And then we're going to go to the football game, right?"

She smiled and headed toward the shower. "Yes, so dress appropriately."

Maggie had the fastest shower of her life, though she was careful to make sure her legs-among other things-were shaved and smooth as silk. She towel-dried her hair and left it to hang in long waves. She didn't have the time or inclination to straighten it. Besides, Cain loved the wild look, and today, for him, she was all over that.

A light gloss on her lips and a bit of mascara and she was good to go. She pulled on a pair of boy-short undies and then slipped a light, airy halter dress over her head. It had been an impulse purchase a few weeks earlier, a markdown at the Dallas Boutique, which was a small shop downtown.

Maggie loved the feel of it and twirled in a circle, letting the skirt swish around her legs, the hem stopping just above the knee. The warm green color complemented her dark hair and the light tan she'd acquired over the past few weeks.

She felt beautiful.

An image of Cain flashed before her eyes and filled her with such a gentle wave of longing and need that she paused. Her heart pounded, and her chest was tight, filled to the brim with so many things-excitement, possibility. A future.

She glanced up and caught sight of herself in the mirror. Slowly her hand rose, and she pushed several strands of hair away from her face. Was it the light streaming in from the window that made her eyes so luminous and her skin glow?

Her fingers fell to her lips, and she smiled a full-bodied smile full of happy. The lightness she felt inside was visible in her reflection.

Maggie leaned in closer. Nah, it wasn't the sunlight. She was in love. Totally and completely in love.

She glanced at the clock once more. "Michael, we need to leave, or we're going to be late." And I need to see Cain.

Her flat white sandals were beside the bed. Maggie slipped her feet into them and angled her foot so that she could see them better. They weren't fancy. They were old, well made, and comfortable. She shrugged and grabbed her purse from off the dresser.

Maggie glanced into her son's bedroom on her way down the hall, but it was empty. His pajamas were strewn across the floor, and several books lay scattered about as well, which was odd. Michael was a neat freak, just like his mother, but she supposed the excitement was too much.

She smiled. She'd tidy it up later.

"Michael, make sure the back door is locked, all right sweetie?" Her son was near the kitchen, his back to her, his body decked out in sports attire-purple, green, and white. "Hurry up, babe. We don't want to be late."

He made a weird sound and turned, his face so pale that his freckles stood out like cinnamon dust. His eyes were huge saucers, and his fists were clenched to his sides, where they trembled uncontrollably. Instantly her internal antenna erupted into a scream, one so loud that she winced, though her gaze never left her son.