Getting Lucky (The Portland Pioneers Book 2) (3 page)

Personally, Maggie thought it was a pretty enormous leap of logic to go from close friends to hot for each other—but then he hadn’t said he
was
hot for her.

“You’re my best friend,” she finally said because that was the one phrase that kept repeating in her head that actually made sense.

“And you’re mine, Maggie,” he said earnestly, leaning forward. “Why do you think I even considered this? I look around this town and you’re the only one I want to spend my time with.”

“I suppose I’d be flattered, but then I know the rest of this town.” She laughed, but it came out a little bitter and more than a lot confused.

“You don’t have to make a decision tonight, or tomorrow, or the next day. Just think about it.”

Her thoughts were finally clearing now from the shock of his sudden declaration, but she wasn’t sure which of them she could actually
say
and have him still want to talk to her afterwards.

He knew she was a closet romantic—really, without the closet. Back in high school, she’d dreamed of being wooed with passion and desire, with rose petals and races through airports and boomboxes held over heads. He should have known better than to think a proposal that was all logic and no heart would ever capture her. And, Maggie thought with increasing annoyance, what if he met
the one
after they’d had their own bloodless, passionless courtship? What then? Would he just expect her to
move aside
like it would be no big deal to call off a relationship with her best friend?

It seemed that once she’d started really thinking, she couldn’t seem to stop. The very last emotion Maggie had expected was anger, but as she sat there staring at him, she realized that angry was definitely
what she was. Furious, to be exact.

“I don’t need to think about it,” she said with as much finality as she could cram into a single phrase. Maybe it was kind of cheating to borrow Cal’s favorite confident tone in this situation, but really, she could use all the help she could get. Maggie already knew he wouldn’t just accept her words. No, he was going to want to
try.

“So, this Friday night then? Should I make reservations at The Cliffs?” He said it so smoothly, Maggie’s jaw dropped again. Like it would be so
simple for her to agree to date him. Like he’d expected a positive response the entire freaking time.

Yeah, she was a little angry still.

“No reservations. No Cliffs,” she bit out. “No
date
.”

“Maggie,” Cal smiled, and there was a new, even worse shock at seeing him flirt with her for the very first time, “how naughty of you. No date first?”

The good news was the anger was definitely clearing out the last bit of fog from her brain. And now he had to go mention sex, as if you just waltzed into someone’s childhood house and proposed to fuck them like you were discussing the weather.

“You’re not listening,” Maggie ground out, rising and grabbing his half-drunk beer from his hand. She marched to the kitchen and poured what was left in the bottles right down the sink. “We’re not going to be dating or having sex or
any of it
.”

Cal came to stand over by the entrance to the kitchen, and she had a horrible vision of him trying to get close enough to kiss her. “It’s a big decision, Maggie,” he said so reasonably she wanted to bean him with the bottle. But then she didn’t
do
those things. Hitting an over-enthusiastic suitor over the head with a beer bottle was something
Tabitha
might do.

“I know you’re going to say I need time to consider it, and maybe I do, but right now, what I really need is time so I won’t be furious
with you,” Maggie interrupted. “So give me a few days and then maybe I’ll be able to think of you without wanting to kill you. Then I can actually consider the idea.”

Of course he looked genuinely mystified. Maybe that was the problem, Maggie thought, he actually had no idea
how to talk to women. Maybe she’d be doing the females of Sand Point a real favor by taking Cal off the market.

“I’m angry because you thought you could just say ‘let’s date’ with nothing else to convince me except really sensible, logical reasons,” Maggie continued before he could stick his foot any further into his mouth. “You even admitted you don’t really think of me that way. I’m just the most convenient choice, with the right body parts.” She paused and took a deep breath, before she let the vitriol really fly and then they no longer had a friendship to save. “Honestly, Cal, I want to be
wanted
. I want to feel passion and desire and
love
. It’s scary to think I might never find those things, but I’m not willing to settle for something safe and dependable.”

One look at the remorse on Cal’s face, and Maggie’s anger evaporated instantly. “I never meant to make you feel unwanted, Mags,” he said, pain in his voice. “I’m so sorry.”

“I know,” she said softly, looking into the sink because now that she wasn’t angry anymore, all she felt was blinding uncertainty. For the longest time, when the rest of her life had been in the worst kind of upheaval, she’d had Cal to fall back on—steady, dependable Cal, who’d always been there for her, and who always would. She’d come to trust him to be there, to be in the cubbyhole that she’d allocated for him. And now he’d blown the whole infrastructure to bits.

“I guess I went about it all the wrong way,” he confessed, and she looked up just as he edged his way around the doorway into the kitchen. She froze, knowing what he was about to try. She ought to stop him, she thought, but she felt glued to the spot by the desire growing in his blue eyes as he gazed at her. “I guess I should have come here and said, ‘Maggie, you’re the best and brightest part of my life. You’re beautiful and smart and funny and you do the impossible every single day by making living here bearable for me.’”

“No,” she muttered, but made zero effort to move. “No, Cal,
no
.”

But he kept coming and at some point, when he was close enough that each and every one of his sandy brown eyelashes stood out against his tanned skin, she gave up the fight—if she’d ever started it to begin with. Some part of her must have been strangely and perversely curious because despite all her protests, she might have let him kiss her after all.

In the end, it was Cal who stopped it. The moment his arm touched her waist, he froze, and they stood there for what felt like one interminable moment after another. “Is this really a good idea?” he finally asked so quietly she could barely hear him even though he was only a few inches away.

“I don’t know,” she answered because even though she’d been one hundred percent against it literally two minutes ago, suddenly, she
wasn’t
sure.

“Then we shouldn’t,” he said, his arm dropping to his side and his feet moving back a few important steps. “You’re too important to me to risk on the unknown. But promise me you’ll at least consider it?”

It was hard to deny him this one little thing, when she had every intention of considering it for about five seconds and then smartly deciding against it. So she nodded. “I promise.”

Noah let the door of the Sand Point Café shut behind him and walked toward where he’d parked his new Jeep Grand Cherokee across the street. He’d done almost no research on Sand Point before deciding on a whim to drive here, but he’d picked up enough to know the Audi R8 he typically drove was not going to help him keep a low profile. For the first time in his career, he wasn’t looking to make a splash or impress women or any of that bullshit he couldn’t believe he’d cared about once. All he wanted was some peace and quiet and for the one woman he couldn’t seem to track down to finally look him straight in the eye.

That was turning out to be much easier said than done, and even though the woman in the Café hadn’t initially seemed to have much in common with her sister, Noah had discovered a steely determination lurking in the depths of her light blue eyes that had been all too familiar. So basically, Sand Point had become yet another dead end. At one point, during the very beginning of his search, Noah had wondered if there was some
real
reason why Tabitha was so good at erasing her tracks and living under the radar. But as he’d dug further into her past, it seemed the only possible explanation was that she liked to avoid facing the consequences of her behavior.

Thus the PO box mailing address, the unlisted phone numbers, the way her new co-workers dodged his calls.

Two years ago, he might have understood her reasons a little better, but today, all he wanted was a straight answer, and it was beginning to look like that was the one thing he couldn’t figure out how to buy.

Noah pulled his phone from his pocket and thumbed through the notes he’d made last night. The one hotel in the area wasn’t even a chain, and he’d briefly perused their website before making his final decision to come here at all. The last thing he wanted was a hard mattress and a bed bug infestation, but the website had been promisingly professional and as he’d figured he’d only be here for a night before heading down to San Francisco, that was all that mattered. Of course, now he’d said he’d stick around to see if Tabitha would respond to Maggie’s email.

Glancing around the quiet streets, it was hard to believe it was only 9 PM on a Sunday night, but he reminded himself that quiet was what he wanted
now. He’d just have to find something to do so he wouldn’t lose his mind from sheer boredom.

It clearly wasn’t going to be the hotel that saved him from that particular fate. As Noah pulled into the parking lot, he saw only a handful of cars, and while the lobby was brightly lit, the rest of the building was dark.

There was nothing keeping him from driving to San Francisco tonight. Noah tipped his head back against the leather headrest and briefly considered it. He didn’t even have a reservation, and there was no real reason that he should wait around for Maggie to give lip service to her promise, then deliver nothing.

He’d be happier in San Francisco, he tried telling himself, but the growing discontent he’d been fighting told him otherwise.

That disconcertingly honest voice was a new one that had developed after his skull’s encounter with a 95 mph fastball, and for a few weeks after the incident, he’d actually wondered if the nagging feeling was another symptom of his concussion, like the splitting headaches and annoying sensitivity to light. But Dr. Simon Singh, his neurologist, had insisted that it wasn’t, actually, and then had done the humiliating favor of suggesting a counselor. “To deal with your other non-medical symptoms,” he’d said, with a sympathetic look that had made Noah cringe.

He hadn’t needed a damn shrink after Tabitha had left him high and dry, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to need one after a ball to the head.

The voice had stuck around anyway, and after ignoring it and ending up miserable for all of October, Noah had decided yesterday on a whim that he might as well listen to what it had to say and maybe he might not feel quite so lost.

So when it demanded he grab his bag from the back seat and stop procrastinating, Noah listened.

The lobby was empty when he walked in, bright lights falling onto a surprisingly polished marble reception counter, edged in a carved dark wood. There was a lit fireplace at one end of the room, and a grouping of stiff looking couches and a loveseat. Not the most inviting lobby he’d ever been inside, but then he’d seen his share of hotels while traveling with the Pioneers.

Noah rang the bell on the counter just as the phone in his pocket vibrated with a text message. He ignored it as he approached the reception desk, manned by a youngish girl.

Like most women, she took one look at him and kept looking.

Noah was fairly used to the reaction, but in the last year he’d begun to get really sick of the attention. At some point after Tabby had left him, he’d begun to want irrationally stupid things, like for a woman to look at him and see him as something more than an awesome pair of biceps.

His phone buzzed again and the girl continued to stare silently, as if she could absorb every molecule of his body with her gaze. “Hi there,” he finally said, “I’d like to check in.”

It seemed to jerk her out of her dazed trance, and she reached up to smooth down the caramel-colored hair she’d artfully striped with pale blonde highlights.

“Hi, I’m Hannah,” the girl said with a smile that wasn’t nearly as cautious as he’d hoped it would be. Sometimes women were intimidated by his good looks and just watched him as if they could memorize the angles of his face. Others were a lot more predatory, but he’d been hoping Hannah’s age would place her in the former category.

He’d been wrong. Hannah’s smile grew more calculating and open by the second and he almost wanted to smack her upside the head and talk some freaking sense into her.

“Hannah, I’d like to check in.” Noah reached into his pocket, ignored his again-buzzing phone, and grabbed his wallet, pulling out his driver’s license. He slid the card across the marble counter towards her.

Hannah licked her lips as she stared at, but didn’t touch, the plastic. He wondered with alarm if she was memorizing his name. He really hoped not.