It Had to Be You. Irene Hannon
make a big deal out of this.”
“But Aunt Maggie, don’t you think it’s…well, like a movie or something, that he appeared out of the mist at your B&B after all these years? You know, where long-lost lovers are reunited and rekindle an old romance?” Abby asked dreamily.
“First of all, we are not long-lost lovers. We didn’t get lost. We broke up. On purpose. And second, neither one of us has any interest in rekindling an old romance. I’m perfectly content with my life just as it is. And even though he’s not wearing a ring, Jake could very well have a wife and five kids somewhere.”
“I’ll bet he doesn’t,” Allison predicted smugly.
“Now why on earth would you say that?” Maggie demanded impatiently, turning to find the other twin peeking through the crack in the door.
“Because he keeps looking this way, like he’s waiting for you.”
“He probably just wants his orange juice,” Maggie pointed out, trying desperately to keep her voice from reflecting the turbulence of her emotions.
As she picked up the glass and added it to the tray with the basket of muffins she could feel the twins’ gazes on her back, knew they were silently communicating with each other about this exciting development in their aunt’s lackluster love life. But in truth, she didn’t want to go back out there. Talking to Jake would only stir up old, painful memories best left at rest. Yet, refusing to see him would be childish. Their relationship was history, after all. Whatever they once felt for each other had long since evaporated. They would simply carry on a calm, mature conversation, and then she’d bid him farewell. She could handle that, she thought as she lifted the tray and walked toward the door.
Couldn’t she?
Jake was on his feet the moment Maggie stepped through the door, but when she was detained by guests at another table, he slowly sat back down. In a way he was grateful for their intervention, because as they engaged her with questions about local sights, he had a chance to look at her unobserved.
She’s changed, he reflected, as his discerning gaze swept over her. She was still slender, her trim figure shown to good advantage in a pair of well-fitting khaki slacks and a green, long-sleeved cotton blouse that was neatly tucked in and secured with a hemp belt. But the girlish figure he remembered had changed subtly—and attractively—as she’d matured.
His appreciative eyes moved to her hair. The vibrant red color had mellowed slightly, but was no less striking, he noted with pleasure. He’d always been partial to red hair, and Maggie’s was especially beautiful, shot through with gold highlights. Apparently she’d never quite tamed its waves. Despite her efforts to pull it sedately back, loose tendrils had escaped around her face, giving the no-nonsense style a winsome, feminine appeal. She still had her freckles, too, he observed with a smile, but they appeared to have faded slightly. He assumed she was grateful for that change, recalling how she’d always complained about them.
But there was something else…different…about her, he realized. The Maggie he remembered had been dependent, always waiting for him to take the initiative. The woman he now observed seemed anything but dependent She was gracious, poised and self-confident A woman who not only took charge of things but was quite capable of taking care of herself. It was a surprising—but intriguing—transformation.
There was one thing, though, that hadn’t changed at all, he discovered a moment later when their gazes connected and his pulse flew into overdrive. He found her every bit as attractive as he had twelve years before. His spirits took a swift and surprisingly strong upswing—only to nose-dive a moment later. Just because he felt the old chemistry didn’t mean she did. And even if she did, he doubted that she’d want to renew their friendship, let alone anything more. Why should she, after what he’d done to her twelve years ago? Yet, he couldn’t quite stifle the hope that suddenly surged through him.
Maggie moved toward him then, and he stood as she joined him, noting the slight flush on her cheeks. One more thing that hadn’t changed, he tallied with pleasure. She still blushed. It was a quality he’d always found endearing.
“I wasn’t sure you’d come back out,” he confessed quietly.
She served the juice and muffins, avoiding his gaze. “Why wouldn’t I?”
There was a moment of silence before he responded. “I wouldn’t have blamed you if you hadn’t,” he told her, instead of replying to the question.
She risked a glance at him then, praying that her fragile composure would hold. “That was a long time ago, Jake.” Much to her surprise—and relief—her voice was steady, and she congratulated herself for sounding so calm and controlled when her insides were churning.
Jake eyed her speculatively, debating whether to pursue the subject “Maybe so,” he responded carefully. “But some things are hard to forget.”
A shadow crossed her eyes, come and gone so quickly he almost missed it. Anyone else would have. But once he had been keenly attuned to the nuances of her emotions. Apparently he still was. No matter what she said next, he knew that the hurt was still there, possibly buried so deeply in her heart even she didn’t realize it still existed. But it clearly did, and his gut twisted painfully as he came face-to-face with the lingering effects of his actions twelve years before.
Instead of responding directly to his comment, she shrugged, and when she spoke, her tone was straightforward. “Life goes on, though. We all learn to cope.”
He wanted to ask if life had been good to her, if she’d found the happiness she deserved, if she’d had much trouble raising the twins…if her heart belonged to another man. She wore no ring. He’d noticed that right away. But you didn’t ask someone personal questions after twelve years. Not when you’d long ago forfeited the right. He had to settle for a less probing query. “So you’ve managed all right, then, Maggie?”
Maggie looked into his eyes—warm and compelling and intense—and remembered with a bittersweet pang how easily she used to get lost in his dark gaze. How, with a simple look, he could make her heart soar. His eyes were still expressive, still powerful, she realized. But she wasn’t susceptible to their magnetism anymore, she told herself resolutely. A lot of things had changed. She’d changed. And this man, once the center of her world, was really nothing more than a stranger to her now.
She tucked the tray under her arm and forced herself to smile. “Well, as you can see, I have a business. The girls are well. We’ve done fine. I hope your career has been as satisfying as mine.”
“The navy has given me a good life,” he acknowledged. “I have no regrets about that choice, anyway.”
But he had regrets about other choices? Better not to ask, though, she decided quickly.
“Well, I have things to attend to, Jake,” she said brightly. “I hope your stay with us has been pleasant—”
The words died in her throat as he reached out and touched her arm.
“I know this situation is somewhat…awkward…but I can’t help thinking our paths crossed again for some reason.” He paused, searching for a convincing way to phrase his request. Finally he drew a deep breath, his eyes reflecting the intensity of his feelings. “I don’t want to walk away without at least talking to you,” he told her honestly, his gaze steady and direct. “Will you give me half an hour or so? For old times’ sake, if nothing else?”
Maggie tried to ignore the entreaty in his eyes as she considered his request. But it was hard to think rationally when the warmth of his hand was seeping through the sleeve of her blouse. She really didn’t want to talk to him. What good would it possibly accomplish after all these years? It seemed far…safer…to leave the past where it belonged—in