The Summer He Came Home Page 27

  “I’m fine, Michael, and no, I don’t think we’ll be seeing Cain tonight. He’s pretty busy preparing for the football game tomorrow and the concert.” She gave him a smile, a horrible, fake thing that slowly faded as Michael’s dark eyes stared back at her.

  He didn’t believe a word she’d said.

  He picked at the veggies on his plate. Carrots. Usually his favorite. “Did you and Cain have a fight?”

  Maggie pushed her plate away. She couldn’t pretend to eat, any more than she could pretend that things were okay. “Cain and I…” she began and stopped. What the hell was she going to say to her son? She needed to say something, to prepare him, because there was a very good possibility that he’d be exposed to the nastiness of the trash magazine in the morning.

  “Did you have a fight because of the pictures?”

  Maggie stared at her son in shock. How in the hell did he know about them? He’d been with her all day. Lauren had been home when they arrived to clean her house, but she was positive Lauren Black would never discuss something like that with Michael.

  “What pictures are you talking about?” Her mouth felt like it was filled with sawdust, and she barely got the words out.

  Michael rose from the table and disappeared into the living room. He came back a few seconds later, Hollywood Scene clutched between his fingers. He carefully placed it on the table in front of Maggie and moved closer to her.

  She stared down at the offending piece of garbage and barely held back the rage that was inside. She itched to tear the damn thing to pieces but held off. She couldn’t lose it in front of Michael. She just couldn’t.

  She turned to him, her fingers lifting his chin so that she could stare into his eyes. The huge balls of liquid blue shimmered, and she saw the questions, the confusion, in their depths. “Where did you get that, Michael?”

  His mouth twitched, and he shuffled his feet as his eyes dropped. “Don’t be mad,” he whispered.

  “Honey, why would I be mad? Just tell Mommy the truth, all right?”

  She was scared, imagining all sorts of crazy things, different ways he could have gotten his hands on a copy. A stranger handing it to him on the bus when she wasn’t looking. Someone leaving it on their porch. A prank by one of his friends.

  “I saw it in your purse.”

  “What?”

  “It was sticking out, and I thought it was a comic, and then I saw Cain on the cover.”

  Maggie groaned. She’d tossed her bag as soon as she let herself into the house the night before. And there it had stayed until Michael found it.

  His fingers kneaded the edge of the table nervously.

  “It’s okay, Michael. You did nothing wrong, honey. It was my fault for leaving it like that. Did you…did you look inside?”

  Maggie held her breath, felt the stab of pain that rushed across her chest as if she’d been laced with a whip. The thought of Michael seeing that center shot made her ill.

  He shook his head. “No. I just looked at the cover and knew it wasn’t a comic, and then I stuffed it in the book rack.”

  Maggie stared at her son in silence. “Okay.”

  “Are you mad at me?” His voice trembled, and she grabbed him to her chest in an instant. His arms slid around her waist, and she held her son as if he was her lifeline for as long as she could. Her chin rested on his curls and she whispered, “No, I’m not mad at you. I’m proud that you’re brave enough to tell the truth. But I have to tell you something.”

  Maggie exhaled and set Michael back a bit so she could look into his eyes. “There are more pictures inside that magazine, honey. Pictures of private stuff…of Mommy and Cain. Do you understand what I’m trying to say?”

  “Like the one on the cover? Of you guys kissing?”

  Her cheeks flushed red, and she nodded. “Kind of.”

  Michael shrugged. “Mom, that’s not a big deal, not for adults anyway. Bobby Terio’s sister has tons of pictures of herself on Facebook, kissing pictures and some in a bikini.” Michael’s face wrinkled into a comical grimace. “They’re gross.”

  “Oh, so you’ve seen them,” Maggie asked, not too impressed.

  “Well, just once. But we got caught, and Bobby’s mom disabled the Facebook, so now his sister can’t show off her kissy-face pictures anymore.”

  Maggie stared at her little boy in awe. He didn’t know the whole story, of course, but still she felt so much better knowing he hadn’t been freaked out at the sight of her and Cain together.

  Of course, he hadn’t seen the center spread, but judging from his reaction, Michael would be more grossed out than embarrassed.

  “Okay, but this is a little different. Someone took those pictures without my knowledge and put them in that magazine. Honey, that magazine is sold in most grocery stores. They even have a television show on every night. Do you understand what I’m trying to say? Your friends might see them, and some of them might tease you tomorrow.”

  “My friends all think you’re pretty. They won’t care.” Michael looked away, and his hands fisted into tight little balls at his side. “You’re afraid of him, aren’t you? That he’ll see.”

  At first Maggie didn’t know what Michael meant. “Cain? No, honey, that’s silly. And trust me, he’s already seen them.”

  “I meant my dad.”

  Cold spread along her body in rapid flashes that left her shaking. Maggie’s heart broke as she stared at her son. It broke into little pieces. That a seven-year-old boy could be that intuitive was astonishing. She thought of Cain’s confession the night before, and her heart swelled again as she thought of that last night in Savannah.

  And of what Michael had witnessed and never shared with her. Her little boy had dealt with all of that on his own. She felt…defeated.

  “I don’t want to leave Crystal Lake, Mommy.”

  She didn’t know how to respond. Michael was much too observant and smart for such a young boy. Maggie didn’t want to lie, so she remained quiet.

  A soft knock echoed into the house, and they both jumped.

  Michael recovered first and ran to the living room, and by the time Maggie cleared the kitchen, Cain stood in the middle of her house, his dark eyes upon her, his hand on Michael’s shoulder.

  Her son leaned into the man the same way she did when he was next to her. As if their bodies needed him in order to function.

  He looked tired, her musician. His clothes were dirty—no doubt from a full day out at the field—but it was his eyes that grabbed her attention. They looked haunted.

  Maggie swallowed and felt her throat tighten. It was like looking in the mirror.

  He turned to her son and ruffled the curls on top of his head. “Hey, is it all right if I talk to your mom for a bit?”

  Michael nodded. “Sure. I have a book I wanted to read anyway.” Michael glanced back at her. “Is that all right, Mom?” She nodded, still unable to speak, and watched him disappear down the hall toward his bedroom.

  “I tried calling, but you didn’t pick up.” Cain ran his hands through his hair and stared at her.

  “Oh.” She finally found her voice. “With everything that happened yesterday, I forgot to charge my phone.”

  “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 hell 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. Th
e 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 damn 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 bitch-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 shit 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 damn 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 damn 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, anticipating. 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 hell 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.

  Crap! 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 damn 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 hell 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 shak
e 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 hell 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 poops all over our grass.”

  “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.