Luann McLane - Moonlight Kiss

“Are you flirting with me?”

“I’m trying. Is it working?”

Her answer was a throaty laugh. “You’re charming—let’s put it that way. But please put me down.”

“Okay, but keep the weight off of your foot,” he cautioned. She smelled nice, like spring flowers with some sort of sultry undertone . . . subtle but sexy.

“I promise,” she said. Her mouth was close to his ear and her warm breath brushed up against his neck. If he turned his head their mouths would be mere inches apart. Of course, kissing her would be an inappropriate, bonehead move . . . funny, but that wouldn’t have stopped Rick Ruleman.

Rick bent forward and gently allowed her feet to touch the ground. “Easy, now.” Rick kept his arm around her waist to keep her steady. When she nodded he reached down for the packet and retrieved the key. He pushed open the door before sliding his arm back around beneath her shoulders. “Lean against me,” he said, but when she did a little hopping limp he shook his head and stopped.

“What are you doing?”

“Checking it out. The pictures didn’t do this place justice. It reminds me of my . . . I mean, of a ski lodge in the mountains.” Cathedral ceilings made the cabin seem massive and a gorgeous fieldstone fireplace was the focal point of the great room.

“Well, former big leaguer Ty McKenna owns this place, but with coaching the Cougars and with his wife running a restaurant they barely have any downtime to enjoy it. Speaking of . . . Wait until you see the gourmet kitchen. It runs the width of the cabin in the back and overlooks the river.”

“I’m impressed.”

Maggie nodded. “They built this as a weekend retreat, but they’ve recently talked about listing it. Until they can make a decision they opted to rent it out.” She pointed to the left. “The master bedroom is over there with a walk-in closet and a garden bath.” She pointed upward. “The loft upstairs has three additional bedrooms and two more full baths. There’s a hot tub on a back deck that goes the entire width of the cabin and is accessible from the master bedroom.” She grimaced. “I wish I could walk around and show it all to you.”

Rick pointed to the sectional sofa in the middle of the great room. “Do you think you can make it over there?”

“Since everything seems to be in order, why don’t you just assist me back to my car?”

“Because, Maggie, I want to get some ice on it to keep the swelling down.”

“I’ll do that when I get home,” she stubbornly insisted.

“Take it from someone who has sprained ankles multiple times. Icing early makes all the difference in the world. You’ll thank me tomorrow.”

Maggie closed her eyes and inhaled. “I feel like such a clumsy dork.”

Rick grinned down at her. “But a very cute clumsy dork.”

“Gee, thanks.” Maggie rolled her eyes but blushed, and before she could protest he scooped her up once more and carried her over to the sofa. “Do you always get your way?” she asked. Rick wondered if the breathless quality of her voice was from surprise or something more.

“No,” he answered quickly. Although to the rest of the world it probably seemed like he’d led a charmed life. “But indulge me, okay?” He gently set her down on the deep brown sofa and then sat by her, taking her injured foot into his hand. Cupping his hand around her heel, he shook his head. He hated that she winced when he removed her sandal. “Well, it’s swollen.” He looked up and their eyes met. “I’m sorry this happened. I should have noticed the rock.”

Maggie frowned. “Hey, in no way, shape or form is this remotely your fault.”

Rick nodded slowly. Of course he knew she was right, but he suddenly wondered how many people had been hurt by him in his lifetime. He’d been living a lie for such a long-ass time he no longer knew the truth. Without the beard, long hair, and leather, Rick felt exposed. Vulnerable.

“Seriously, Richard.” Maggie leaned forward and placed her small hand on his arm.

“I know. I just feel bad, I guess.”

“Don’t. Hey, trust me—I’m pretty darned resilient.” She pointed to her ankle and then waved a dismissive hand. “I’ll be right as rain in a couple of days.”

“Maybe,” Rick said, and then gently placed a jewel-toned pillow beneath her leg, propping up her ankle. “But until then I’ll be checking up on you, so don’t even try to fight it.”

When she opened her mouth Rick raised one finger.

“No protesting! Just sit here and let me get that ice.”

“But—”

“Nope!” When he cut her off again she laughed.

“Okay . . . okay!” She lifted her hands in surrender.

“That’s more like it.” Rick could tell that Maggie wasn’t used to anyone pampering her. Well, that was about to change. As he walked into the amazing kitchen in search of ice he reminded himself that he was only here for a couple of weeks or so while he regrouped and attempted to approach Addison with an explanation and apology. Getting romantically involved with Maggie would be a bad idea, but they could become friends. No harm in that, right? Rick frowned. Had he ever been just friends with a woman before? The answer would be a big, fat no. With a sigh he decided that he’d better keep things strictly business between them. He didn’t want to lie to her about his identity, and, after all, he was here in hiding to straighten out his sorry-ass life, not complicate it. The reminder put a sudden damper on his good mood.

But when Rick entered the room with the plastic bag of crushed ice Maggie looked up and smiled, slicing through his gloom like a ray of warm sunshine. Keeping his distance wasn’t going to be easy.

REID LOOKED UP AT THE STRIPED AWNING ABOVE Addison’s bridal shop and read, “From This Moment.” The scripted name reminded Reid of the dance they’d shared together at Sully’s. He inhaled sharply, trying to chase away the memory of having Addison in his arms. He was here on business, not pleasure, and he’d best remember that little fact. Although Addison’s grand opening wasn’t for a couple of weeks, Reid knew that she was already taking orders for dresses and was available for consultation. He knew this because Sara had already spoken with Addison about the whole barn-wedding idea that Sara just wouldn’t let go.

Reid flexed his fingers, trying to maintain his cool, but it irked him that instead of dissuading his sister, according to Sara, Addison was actually on board with the harebrained idea. Someone like Addison had money to burn and no worries about her future, but his sister didn’t have that luxury. If Addison’s fancy little boutique went under she could move on to the next pet project, giving her mother a nice little tax write-off.

Reid rolled his shoulders, trying to regain his composure before confronting Addison. He’d deliberately left his dusty work clothes on, including his boots, to drive home the fact that he and his sister were hardworking farmers rather than a rich girl playing with Mama’s money. He’d probably arrived after hours, but the lights were on in the boutique and with luck the front door would still be open.

After their make-out session, Addison had filled his thoughts for nearly two weeks. He’d vowed to take it slow but Reid didn’t think he could last much longer before seeing her again. He’d had every intention of asking her out for dinner, until while he was checking out at the grocery store he’d seen Addison’s picture on the cover of one of those tabloids. She’d been kissing Rick Ruleman. Unable not to, Reid had picked the magazine up and read the article detailing how Addison had an affair with the rock legend, ending her engagement to Rick’s son, Garret, who was reported to be heartbroken.

Sara had warned Reid that those papers were full of crap, but the picture was pretty damning. No wonder Addison was hiding out in Cricket Creek. Her mother was probably embarrassed as hell. Looked like he’d been right about Addison being pretty wild and not his type at all.

After another deep breath, Reid pushed open the deep red door and entered the shop. He clumped across the gleaming hardwood floor, feeling a little bit like Pigpen in the Charlie Brown comics. Soft music played through hidden speakers, and the air smelled like vanilla and flowers. Wedding gowns were artfully displayed on both sides of the middle of the big open room. Overhead lighting glinted off white fabric, making the details sparkle. Lighted display cases showcased jewelry and beaded purses. Antiques, white linen—all created an air of elegance. He would have been impressed that she’d pulled this together so quickly if he hadn’t been so pissed.

Reid looked around, trying to see where Addison was hiding, but wondered if she wasn’t upstairs and had forgotten to lock the front door. Sara had told him that Addison had moved from the condo to the loft apartment. He felt a flash of concern and then squashed it, reminding himself that she wasn’t the sweet and innocent little thing that she’d pretended to be.

And then he saw her.

With her back to him, Addison struggled with a big box, tugging it into the room from what appeared to be a storage area. She wore jeans and a plain pink T-shirt. Her long dark hair was pulled into a ponytail, and if he wasn’t mistaken she was barefoot. He wondered why she didn’t seem to hear him but then noticed earphones. She paused and bobbed her head and shoulders to the beat and then did a cute little wiggle thing while snapping her fingers. Lifting her arms she hummed for a minute, sang a word here and there. She did a shimmy to the left and then to the right. She bobbed and weaved, started singing again as if she couldn’t help herself. Reid grinned but then reminded himself that nothing about her was amusing. Still dancing but a little bit more subdued she opened the flaps on the top of the box. “Addison?” he called out, but she must have had the music turned up pretty loud because she didn’t respond.