What Were You Expecting? (16 page)

“Here? You mean, come live with you here?”

She looked up at him. “Sure. It’d be good for him to get away from the city, from his…
friends
.”

She said the word with such derision and disgust, he had to ask. “What about his friends?”

“Street riff-raff.”

“Drug dealers?”

“I dinna know for sure.” She sighed. “Good chance, I guess. There are innumerable gangs in Glasgow. I dinna know if he’s definitely joined one or not, but if he hasn’t, it’s just a matter of time.”

“Christ, Maggie. He sounds like a handful. Is he coming?”

“I dinna know. Maybe. No plans yet.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m not sure it’s a good idea…you taking on some wild teenage kid on your own.”

“He’s my cousin.” She looked up at him and grinned. “You worried for me?”

Nils shrugged, but the answer was yes. He didn’t like the idea of her troublemaking cousin coming to stay with her. He didn’t like the idea of anything entering her space that could threaten her safety or happiness. Most of the time, he didn’t like himself for that very reason.

“Well, I hope he does come here,” she said. “He could use the change. The country would do him a lot of good.”

“If he does, promise you’ll let me and Lars take him under our wings. Keep our eyes on him. Whip him into shape.”

“Ah, just what Gingy needs. A lesson in picking up Park Girls from the notorious Lindstrom brothers.” She smirked, handing Nils a picture of Nils, Lars, and Erik in front of the
Lindstrom & Sons
touring van, their arms around each other’s shoulders, looking tan and blond and impossibly handsome.

“Gingy?”

“A nickname. On account of his red hair.”

Nils glanced at the photo, biting his bottom lip so he didn’t grin at her. “Picking up Park Girls? Now you’re talking about Lars and Erik.”

“Not you?”

“When have you ever seen me with a Park Girl?” Nils shook his head, putting the photo in the slideshow pile and straightening it.

“Just because I’ve never seen it…”

“No, Maggie.”

“What, never?”

“Not for a long time.”

Her wide eyes locked in on his and a smile spread across her face. It made him blush as he realized what they were talking about—him having sex with some anonymous girl. Did she think about things like that? She had used the words “Bed me.” Damn, she
did
think about him like that. It made his breathing change as his blood rushed south again.

“That’s not for me, Mags.”

“What
is
for you?” she asked softly.

You are, if I could have you.
He had to diffuse this conversation before he did something stupid. He swallowed nervously, turning to her, “Didn’t you hear? I’m married.”

“Ha,” she said softly, just as he had before, turning away from him. But her smile hadn’t faded during the exchange, which made him ridiculously happy for no good reason.

“Anyway, you’ll let me know if he comes? Graham? Gingy? So I can give you a hand?”

“Aye, I’ll let you know.”

But he wondered if she actually would. He worried that maybe she’d ask Beck to help since he was around all the goddamned time and so goddamned amenable to being whatever Maggie—
his
goddamned legal wife—required.

He cleared his throat, reaching for another pile of photos from the box on top of the trunk. “You, uh, you got all the papers signed? For the green card?”

“Mm-hm. Beck is very efficient.”

“That ain’t all.”

She turned to him with pursed lips. “You’ve no reason not to like him.”

“That’s not what I hear,” he answered in a low, sarcastic voice, narrowing his eyes.

“Och, look at you, growly bear!”

“It’s not funny, Maggie.”

“I never said it was.”

“We’re supposed to be married…I mean, Beck, of all people, shouldn’t be sniffing around…”

“He knows it’s a farce, Nils. He overheard every word you said to Tess.”

Nils hissed, shaking his head. “Damn it.”

“He’s been a good friend to me. Besides—”

“A
friend
,” Nils interrupted.

“Aye, a friend.”

“Just
a friend?”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but aye,
just
a friend. There was a lot of paperwork and he walked me through all of it. And we had drinks a time or two. And—”

“And
what
?” he asked harshly, imagining Beck’s hands on Maggie’s body, imagining his hands around Beck’s neck.

“We needed a fourth for euchre, for Lord’s sake! He was kind enough to fill in,” she said, huffing with attitude.

“Kind enough…” muttered Nils. “He wants to get into your pants!”

“Well, at least someone does!” she yelled back at him.

His jaw dropped as he stared at her. He could hear his heart beat in his ears, furious and thrumming, as she stared back at him, thin-lipped and perturbed. His body had just started to calm down and damn if it didn’t go on high alert again, because inside her pants was a destination that made him lose his mind with want.

“Maggie…” he started, his voice dangerously low.

“I shouldn’t have said that. What happens inside my pants is—I mean, my pants and who goes into them isn’t your concern…I mean, bloody hell, we shouldn’t be discussin’ this. It’s none of your—”

“I’ll be back for euchre on Thursday,” he growled, interrupting her through gritted teeth. Talking about what happened inside of her pants was pushing him to the brink of his endurance. Not to mention, he was solidly against Beck visiting there, no matter how selfish it made him.

“Huh. Just goin’ to show up and expect to join us again?”

“Pretty much. My brother. My friend. My…” He gestured at her and the word “wife” hung between them, but he didn’t say it, although he held her eyes, daring her to contradict him. “…
seat
.”

“Just come and go as you please, aye?”

“We needed a break. We had it. We’re back to normal now.”

They were anything but back to normal and they both knew it.

“Fine,” she responded in a breathy voice, shifting away from him slightly. “Best get there early, though. And you can be the one to tell Beck.”

“No problem,” he said. It would be a pleasure to let Beck know that his services were no longer required. While he was at it, he might suggest that Beck stay the hell away from Maggie. Weren’t there any other goddamned lawyers in Gardiner anyway? Old ones with grey hair and bushy eyebrows and yellow teeth?

“Two more pictures of your parents’ honeymoon in Sweden. Looks like heaven. Have you been?”

“No,” he answered, still annoyed with the whole Beck situation, hating like hell that someday, someone would take her away from him. Well, when that day came, he’d make damn sure the guy was good enough for Maggie, or else. “You?”

“Nae. I’ve been all about Scotland, of course, and to England. And to Ireland, though I dinna remember it. And here.”

“You’ve seen a lot more of the world than me, Maggie May.”

“Where would you have gone?” She blushed and looked away. “If you’d really been married with a honeymoon and all?”

“Where would
we
have gone? You mean, theoretically?”

She shrugged. He’d had the fantasy about a million times since their wedding. It was almost a relief to verbalize it. “I’d have taken you to Sweden. To Åre, where my grandparents came from.”

“Here?” She waved the pictures at him. “Skiin’ at Åre? I’ve never skied a day in my life.”

“But I’d teach you! All Lindstroms have to ski and since you’d be a Linds…” His face felt hot as he stopped himself, biting his lower lip, and taking the photos from her. “Anyway, that’s where my folks went on their honeymoon. Erik and Kat went to England.”

“I know. Kat kept me hostage at their weddin’, askin’ me every possible question,” said Maggie, the affection for his brother and sister-in-law evident in her voice. “He’s mad for her, isn’t he?”

“He’s mad for her,” agreed Nils softly, watching her as she sifted through photos, tucking one into the back of the pile. For the next twenty minutes or so, they were quiet, working efficiently to sort through the remaining photos.

Nils glanced at her thoughtfully as she separated the pictures into two piles, evaluating each image for its merit or worth.

She was an anomaly, Maggie. She was a good businesswoman; he knew that. Her café ran smoothly and he knew for a fact that she turned a profit. And yet she didn’t get her visa renewed on time. She fostered herself so easily to others: to him and his family, to Paul, to the children who came for story hour, to Beck…and yet her relationships with her own family members seemed so strained. She didn’t make sense, and watching her as she took a moment to glance at each photo, he realized that he liked it that she didn’t necessarily make sense. It kept him guessing. It kept him wondering. It kept him wishing he had a lifetime to figure her out.

“And who’s this now? She looks a wee bit like me!” She held up another picture, and as his eyes shifted from the top of her sweet-smelling head to the teenagers in the photo, the room started spinning.

Veronica.

It was a picture of Veronica. Of him with his arms around Veronica in front of an archway of red and green balloons at the senior Christmas formal.

It was like the wind had been knocked out of him as he stared at the picture. It had been over ten years since he’d seen her picture and in no way had that time lessened the strength of his guilt, the gnawing, inescapable regret.

Her bright eyes were heavily made up and her pink lips tilted up in a tentative smile. Her reddish-blonde hair was styled in a high ponytail and her emerald green dress shimmered, the same color as his tie and cummerbund. That was the night…
the
night…

He felt dizzy and put his hands to his cheeks surprised to find them so hot.

“Nils, are you okay?”

“No, I…I need some air, I—” He pushed himself up from the floor as pictures scattered around him and half staggered over to the round window, wrenching the rusted latch open and pushing the bottom half moon forward to let in a rush of cool air. He rested his palms flat on the unfinished wooden wall on either side of the window frame and took a deep breath.

Jesus, she was so young. So fucking young. And beautiful. And trusting.

And—in the end—terrified.

He took another breath, bowing his head forward. He had no business being married to Maggie, having the sort of feelings for Maggie that he did. He didn’t have the right to be with anyone. He didn’t have the right to love anyone or be loved.

He felt her hands on his back, tentative fingertips at first, then flat palms that rubbed gently from his shoulder blades down to his waist and up again. He suppressed a groan, fought against the throbbing longing to turn around and drag her up against his body, hold her, take comfort from her. Take, take, take.

“I dinna know what just happened,” she said softly behind him. “That picture…upset you? She was someone special?”

He took one last deep breath, pushing back from the wall and turning slowly to face her. “Aw, Maggie,” he murmured, his voice thick in his ears. “If only I…”

Her eyes were stricken and concerned as they searched his face and her hands reached up to cup his cheeks gently.

“What, love?” she asked tenderly, her thumb stroking the stubbled skin of his jawline, soothing and heady at the same time. “What is it? I—”

“Nils? Son? You up here?” Mr. Lindstrom’s voice from the foot of the stairs made them jerk back from each other.

“Uh…Yeah, Pop.” He rubbed his palm over his lightly sweating forehead, putting his hands on his hips as Maggie stood helplessly beside him, still thoughtfully inspecting his face with knitted brows. His father’s footsteps got closer.

“Maggie up here, too?” Mr. Lindstrom asked from the top of the stairs, eyes squinting as he adjusted to the sun shining into the dim, dusty room from the half-opened window in front of him.

“Lars told Maggie she could have some of Mamma’s old cooking things. Pots and pans and such.” Maggie looked at Nils in surprise and he gestured to a small pile of cooking ware in a neat collection by the mouth of the stairs.

“Maggie May,” said Carl Lindstrom affectionately. “Can’t think of anyone who should have them more than you.”

Nils watched as Maggie’s fingers went to the ring around her finger. She twisted it nervously.

“Promise you’ll use them to make me a batch of shortbread?”

“I brought you some today,” she said, and Nils noticed the tremor in her voice. She stepped forward to give his father a quick kiss on the cheek before heading to the stairs. After collecting the pots and pans in her arms, she gave Nils one last look before starting downstairs. “Thanks for them. I’ll be off, I guess.”