An Innocent Thanksgiving (Holiday Heat Book 2) Page 10

  Maggie rolled her eyes, but she looked fonder about it than she had before. Her friend next to her looked positively delighted by this entire exchange. I turned to her. “I’m Cal, by the way, I’m an old friend of Maggie’s.”

  “An old friend?” the other woman replied, and there was a mischievous, knowing tone in her voice. “I’m Jenn, and I’ve been dying to meet you.”

  Next to her, Maggie blushed, and I grinned. “Has Maggie told you about me?”

  “Just the important parts.” Jenn winked.

  I liked this Jenn.

  “Please don’t become friends,” Maggie mumbled, sounding mortified.

  “Too late,” Jenn replied with a gleeful cackle. “So, Cal, what brings you here on this fine, fine Tuesday evening?” Oh yeah, I definitely liked her. We were going to be friends, I could tell.

  “I was going to offer to cook dinner for you and Fern,” I told Maggie, “but it seems you already have company.”

  “I think that’s an amazing idea,” Jenn said before Maggie could open her mouth. “But there are so many wonderful restaurants in the Nashville area. Did you know it’s really up and coming as a foodie place?”

  “Jenn’s work requires her to go out with clients a lot,” Maggie said, as if apologizing for her friend’s behavior. “She’s a music producer.”

  “My mom was… well I don’t like to name drop but feel free to use Google if you want.” Jenn winked at me. “I grew up in the music industry.”

  “And is a fantastic singer in her own right if…”

  “…but I don’t like the limelight I told you I get stage fright…”

  This sounded like a fond and well-worn argument between the two. “The point is,” Jenn said as Maggie tried to interject again, “I have to go out and eat in fancy places a lot and I know a lot of excellent restaurants you two could try. And Maggie hasn’t had a night out in years,” she added, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper.

  “Well that’s a shame,” I said. I could understand why, though, if Maggie was the only caregiver for Fern. And once you had a kid… I couldn’t imagine that the idea of casually dating sounded so appealing anymore. Maggie didn’t seem the type to casually date in general before that, but, you never knew.

  But would it really be all right to take Maggie out, without Fern? That sounded like a date and hell yes, I wanted to take her out on a date, but it didn’t seem conducive to proving that I was here to be a good dad to Fern. My focus should be on Fern just as much as Maggie, perhaps even more than. Maggie had made it pretty clear that she didn’t want a relationship with me but there was still a chance that I could have a relationship with Fern, and that was what I should be focusing on.

  But Maggie… Maggie wasn’t currently shutting me down or saying that it was a bad idea. She looked… nervous, but she wasn’t pressing her lips together in that way that guaranteed she was annoyed.

  Hmm.

  Before I could ask Maggie what she thought, Jenn leaned around all of us and yelled out to Fern. “Hey, buttercup, you want to do a slumber party with me tonight? Just the two of us? Get in some good Auntie Jenn time?”

  “Yes!” Fern cheered, sounded absolutely delighted. She clearly liked her ‘Auntie Jenn’ and I couldn’t blame her, Jenn seemed like a fun person. And I was glad that Fern had good people in her life who were looking out for her besides just her mom. Maggie shouldn’t have had to go all of this alone, and knowing Jenn was there for her made me breathe a little easier.

  “Sounds like it’s settled to me,” Jenn said, folding her arms triumphantly and looking over at Maggie. “I’ll take care of Fern tonight.”

  Maggie opened her mouth, then closed it again, her face still flushed. “Sure,” she said at last, shrugging, a little defiant. It was actually kind of adorable and I had to bite the inside of my cheek to hold in my smile.

  Well, if Jenn was determined… I certainly wasn’t going to say no to a night alone with Maggie. “I’ll pick you up around six?” I suggested. That should give me plenty of time to find a good restaurant she’d like and then get ready.

  “I’ll be ready,” Maggie replied. She sounded less like we were discussing a date and more like we were going to be undergoing a strategic mission of some kind.

  “Great.” I smiled, trying to look reassuring and not giddy. This wasn’t anything like what I’d been expecting when I’d come over, but fuck if I wasn’t going to take advantage of the chance to impress Maggie and sweep her off her feet. All of the years we’d known each other, we had never been in a fancy setting together, never been in a proper romantic, date scenario. This was it, and I wouldn’t waste it. “I’ll see you then.”

  If I remembered correctly, Maggie was a fan of burgers and steak. There was this great steakhouse in the heart of the city that seemed to have rave reviews, and since it was only a Tuesday night, not a typical date night, they had a reservation open. Perfect.

  I didn’t have a whole lot of suits, just because I didn’t wear anything other than ratty clothes for doing art in—no sense in wearing something nice only for it to get covered in paint—but I did have a couple that I used for art shows and gallery openings, that sort of thing.

  For the first damn time in my life, I was nervous about how I looked. I had been a bit of a gangly kid, all too-big hands and feet, but it wasn’t something I’d really thought about. It was just who I was. Then when I’d gotten older and people had started giving me attention, flirting with me, I’d kind of realized, oh, at some point I grew into myself. Great. I accepted that I was good-looking and left it at that.

  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.

&nbs
p; 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…”

  “You look perfect.” I winked at her. “And here I thought you’d picked something tight on purpose. You knew how to tease when you wanted to.”

  Maggie laughed, the sound coming out in a startled way. “Thank you.” She sounded sincere.

  “It’s nothing. I’m sure you have men paying you compliments all the time.” I couldn’t help but think of her comment that it had been a while since she’d gotten dressed up. Had she really never had anyone take her out? No break from being a mother to just go and have fun? Had no man caught her eye, even briefly, in the five years in between?

  “Not really. I mean—not like this.” Maggie blushed again. “I haven’t gone on a date since—in a really long time. With Fern it’s difficult.”

  “I can imagine.” I took a deep breath. She wasn’t outright saying it, but I was hoping that once I confessed, she would say the same thing that I was about to say. “I haven’t been with anyone since that Thanksgiving.” Since you.

  “Oh.” Maggie’s mouth popped open a little in surprise. “I… you haven’t seen anyone in all that time?”

  I nodded in confirmation. “It just felt wrong.” I couldn’t get her out of my head, and as much as I’d been filled with guilt over it, I hadn’t been able to shake the ghost of her, either. Every time I’d tried to flirt with someone—or rather someone had tried to flirt with me—I just hadn’t been into it. It hadn’t felt right.

  “I haven’t either,” Maggie blurted out. She swirled the wine in her glass, as if to give herself something to do. “I’ve been single this whole time, never hooked up, never—anything. It didn’t feel right. I told myself that it was because of my daughter, but…”

  Her voice died away, and I found myself feeling lighter. Relieved. It was like this whole time we’d been waiting for each other, haunted by each other, even though we’d each tried to put that night out of our heads. And now that I was back in person with her I knew for certain:

  No one else would do for me.

  18

  Maggie

  This setting was getting to my head. The candlelit dinner, the lighting low throughout the restaurant. The small table we were at, the one definitely designed for only two people. The fact that all around us were only couples—and not many of them, actually. Not many people at all in a fancy restaurant on a Tuesday night. We didn’t have anyone sitting near us, giving us that much more privacy. And the wine—that was getting to my head a bit, too.

  Not to mention there was the company.

  When I said that I hadn’t been with anyone either, that it hadn’t felt right, Cal got this look on his face that was startled, and then—relieved. After that he started being even more charming than before, as if he hadn’t already been turning my head telling me I looked perfect and beautiful and all of the rest.

  God, I had forgotten how damn funny he was, how amusing, how much he could charm me. That hadn’t changed, all this time. I supposed I shouldn’t have been surprised. I guess I’d hoped, secretly, that the shine would’ve worn off a bit, that I would find him to be dull now. But that was far from the case. He told me all about his latest gallery opening, and about this young artist he had worked with who was talented but needed to be taken down a peg and humble himself a bit, and it all honestly felt like no time had passed between us.

  “What?” Cal asked, pausing in the middle of one of his stories.

  I shook my head, taking another sip of wine. We had to order a second bottle. “Nothing. I just was thinking—you always knew how to make me laugh, and that hasn’t changed.”

  “I’m so sorry I haven’t turned bland and boring in my dotage,” he teased, grinning at me.

  “Soon you’ll have plenty of jokes to make about the nursing home.”

  “Oh yes. I plan to slide nicely into dementia so I can paint all over the walls and nurse uniforms. No one will be safe from my paintbrush.”

  I laughed. Cal might have been joking about his age, but he was still like a young man to me, full of energy and enthusiasm. Honestly, I kept forgetting that there was such an age difference between us. It was obvious he wasn’t in his twenties the way that I was, but if I hadn’t known better, if I’d been asked to guess, I would’ve placed him in his late thirties.

  From there Cal launched into another story, and I relaxed again. I was either saying the wrong thing, being too blunt, or I wasn’t saying enough—if you asked the people around me. Jenn was one of the few people who I didn’t have to worry was just hanging out with me for the sake of politeness. She was plenty chatty and could fill up all the space on her own. Cal, I was now remembering, was always armed with stories and anecdotes, and I never felt pressured to talk. I could just relax and listen instead of worrying about saying the wrong thing.

  I knew that the obstacles standing in our way weren’t really disappearing as we talked. But it was nice to be able to forget about them for a little while—to sort of put them up on a shelf to take down later. I liked Cal, I always had, and it was clear to me now that wasn’t ever going to change. Even after all that had happened, I was still into him. Still wanted him, liked him. Even though I was sure a relationship between us wouldn’t work out, it was nice to pretend. Just for a bit.

  We got dessert, and I knew that I shouldn’t say yes when Cal suggested the idea, a look in his eyes just sinful and playful enough that I flushed hot. I knew I definitely shouldn’t say yes when afterwards he suggested we go for a walk along the river. I should be getting back to Fern, to my daughter, being responsible. But I’d been responsible for five fucking years, and even if this thing with Cal couldn’t last, I didn’t want to give up pretending just yet.

  “That sounds lovely,” I said instead, and the look that Cal gave me, so warm and soft and delighted, filled me up like champagne bubbles in my blood and I felt like I’d made the right choice.

  He offered his arm to me as we walked, and I took it without thinking. It pressed our sides up together, and
for once, I didn’t force myself away, didn’t make myself remember the reasons why this was a bad idea. I just enjoyed the warmth of him. I felt safe with him, in a way that I hadn’t felt in years. I’d had to hide my secret all this time, even from my parents, and I’d had to be the adult at home, no one to lean on. Now I had someone who knew the truth and who was willing to take care of me, at least for this one night, and it was such a relief I felt like a massive weight was being lifted off my shoulders.

  The lights of the city made a lovely backdrop as we walked along the river. I was more often than not at home with Fern during the night, so I hadn’t really gotten to enjoy Nashville like this. “This makes me think of that one series you did,” I said, letting the words slide out of me before I got stiff and second-guessed them. “The one where you did all those cities at night.”

  This was one of his earliest series, done before I was born. They were a series of paintings of cities from all over the world, and I really did mean all over the world—Seoul, Sidney, Tokyo, Berlin, Bangkok, Cairo, Buenos Aires, Los Angeles, New York City, Vancouver, London, Moscow, Cape Town, Tangier. I could remember looking that series up, when I had first started to become aware that my father’s best friend wasn’t just an artist but a famous one, and I had stared for ages at those paintings, imagining those cities.

  Cal gave a startled noise. “Oh man. I haven’t thought about that series in years. That was one of the first series that I did, it’s the one that really put me on the map. No pun intended.” He shot me a warm grin.

  “You know that was…” I really shouldn’t have been saying this, but I blamed the wine and the late night, and the stupid romantic lights of the city. “That was when I realized I was attracted to you. I had been doing this research on you, trying to… understand you, I suppose, not just as a friend but in the larger context of what you did. I would spend forever just staring at those paintings.”