of the Silverado.
Whoa. Could he possibly have her, just once, and then leave the same way he appeared? Quickly and mysteriously and without explanation?
Could he possibly not?
She hadn’t yet noticed the Porsche idling at the stop sign two houses away. Throwing the sponge down, she pushed off the truck, landing on her bare feet and brushing stray, wet hairs off her face with the back of her hand. She turned to the house and yelled something.
She wasn’t alone.
He tapped the accelerator, revving the engine enough to make her whip around and squint down the street, raising her hand to the setting sun, and taking a slow step backward when she realized what car made the noise.
She tilted her head toward the house, calling again.
Dan rumbled forward, closing the space slowly, until he stopped at the end of her driveway. He lowered the passenger-side window.
“You missed a spot, sweetheart.”
She threw a look over her shoulder, then ambled to his car, walking slowly enough to torture him. The wet top was plastered to the peaks of her breasts, and if her shorts were any shorter, they’d qualify as a bikini.
When she reached the car, she propped her elbows on the window ledge. “I thought you went back to New York, Irish.”
“You really think I’d leave and not say good-bye?”
“You really think I worried about it?” She tempered the tease with a wink, her face glowing from a little sun and sweat, her eyes just as sultry in sunlight as they were under a moonbeam.
“I figured you needed some breathing room.”
She inhaled with great exaggeration. “Okay, I’ve breathed. Good-bye now.”
Good-bye? He gestured for her to back away. “Let me park.”
“No.” She didn’t move.
“Why not?”
One more little look over her shoulder gave it all away. “You’re not alone, are you, Maggie?” For one instant he imagined the fortune hunter would stroll out of the garage, and his fingers actually fisted as a wave of jealousy rocked him.
She soothed it with a pretty smile. “I do like it when you call me that.”
“So get rid of whoever has you watching your back, and I’ll call you Maggie all night long.”
She collapsed a little on one arm. “Not for all the Maggie-calling in the world could I get rid of . . . him.”
“I could.” Because now that he’d seen her again, there was no way he was leaving until he got what he wanted. And he wanted her.
“I can’t,” she said again.
“Whoever it is, Maggie, ditch him.” He reached across the passenger seat and put his hand on hers. “I want to be with you tonight.”
“Oh.” The single syllable came out like a soft sigh. “No.”
“No you don’t want to, or no you can’t ditch your . . . company.”
“No it’s not company.” She sighed and shook her head. “Look, I haven’t been completely open with you, Dan.” She nudged her head farther into the car. “I didn’t tell you this the other night. I have a . . .”
A door slammed behind her, and a big brown dog came barreling up the driveway, barking wildly.
“A dog.” He finished for her, smiling as it bounded to the car and threw his paws up next to Maggie. “A huge one,” he added as a giant chocolate fur–covered face and a tongue the size of a small country filled the window space next to her.
Dan shut off the engine, opening his door when another sound from the driveway caught his attention.
“Yeow! Holy craptastica! I swear to God, Mom, if you know the owner of this car, I just died and went to heaven.”
A golden-haired boy, smooth faced enough to be twelve but broad enough to pass for fifteen, pointed at the Porsche, shaking his head. “I’m freakin’ out.”
The kid transferred his attention to Dan, who climbed out of his seat and continued around the car, drawn to the deep green eyes, the clefted chin, the toocool-for-his-own-good posture of the boy in front of him.
Maggie, holding the dog by the collar, looked from one to the other as the animal tried hard to break her grip and jump on Dan.
And a dog could have knocked him right over. A soft breeze could have flattened him at that minute.
“You have a son,” he said, finishing what he now knew she was trying to say.
“Yeah.” She got a good grip on the dog.
Dan’s attention was riveted on the boy, who was just as riveted on the car.
“Dude, shoot me now because that is my effing dream car!”
“Quinn, please.”
“Mom, I have