Wife for Hire - By Janet Evanovich Page 0,10
to accept my failures as well as my successes. In the long run it’s my opinion of myself that really counts anyway.”
Maggie righted her chair. She took a chunk of potato salad and chewed it thoughtfully. He was no dummy. He had his ducks all in a row. He could be faulted for finding weird solutions to his problems, but he had strength of character. And that was a good thing for a husband to have.
Chapter 3
Maggie sat at her desk and stared, dreamy eyed, out the open window. There was a broad expanse of lawn, and after that there were rows of green-leaved apple trees stretching out over the low hills. The air was fragrant with smells of grass and earth, the sky was a brilliant, cloudless azure, the computer screen in front of her was blank, except for one phrase—“Once upon a time…”
Elsie knocked on the door and poked her head in. “You been up here for hours. What are you doing?”
“Watching apple trees grow.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be writing?”
“I’m getting inspired.”
“Are you going to spend much more time at this inspired stuff? Hank’s parents will be here in half an hour.”
Maggie clapped a hand over her mouth. “I forgot!”
“Yeah, watching apple trees grow is pretty absorbing.”
“It is, when you’ve spent your entire life in a town that makes bricks.” She shut down the computer. “How’s the dinner coming?”
“I’m not a fancy cooker, but my food won’t kill anyone either.”
“Good enough for me,” Maggie said.
Twenty minutes later she swiped at her eyelashes with the mascara wand and decided she was as good as she was going to get. She wore a black-and-white zebra-striped silk shirt with a wide black leather belt and a little white linen skirt that rose an inch above her knees. She slipped her feet into black flats, posed once in front of the mirror and went flying from her room when she heard a car coming down the driveway. She almost collided with Hank in the hall.
“Whoa,” he said. “Not so fast.” He held her at arm’s length and took a fast appraisal. “So, this is your boring teacher’s clothes, huh?” A grin spread across his face. His mother was going to have a heart attack when she saw the zebra shirt and short skirt. He might have a heart attack, too, but for different reasons. “You look sensational.”
“Do you really think this is okay? I can change…”
His hands were gripping her just above the elbows, burning brands into her arms, and suddenly she wanted very badly for him to approve.
“You’re perfect. Except for one thing.”
He reached into his pocket and produced a slim, gold wedding band. He held it between thumb and forefinger and studied it for a moment, feeling uncomfortable. He remembered his first real kiss with Joanie Karwatt. And some other more embarrassing moments. This ranked right up there with the most awkward pseudoromantic episodes, he decided.
He took her hand, sucked in some air, and slid the ring onto her finger. He realized he was holding his breath and released it with a loud whoosh, relieved that the deed was done. “How does it feel?”
Maggie looked at the ring and swallowed. No amount of warning would have prepared her for that moment. Only seconds ago she’d been filled with bravado, and now she was overwhelmed with strange emotions. Emotions she never even knew existed within her. It was with a sense of dismay that she stared at the band and realized it was only a front.
“It feels a little strange.”
He heard the catch in her voice and hated himself. This scam had seemed so simple and harmless when he’d conceived of it a month ago, but now he was deceiving his parents. Worse than that, he was cheating Maggie. He wanted to tell her he loved her, but she’d never believe him. Hell, it seemed hard for him to believe. He’d known her such a short time.
He took hold of her shoulders, backed her against the wall, and kissed her. The kiss deepened, his hands moved to her throat and slid down her arms to settle at her waist. He liked the way he could feel the woman beneath the silk, liked the way she stiffened in surprise, then turned warm and pliant in his arms. He kissed the pulse point in her neck and knew he’d made her heart trip. The knowledge excited him, encouraged him. He knew he should stop, and he knew he wouldn’t. Not just yet. He’d