“Are you going to kiss me?”
“Remember, all you ever have to do is ask.” He grinned. “But that ripping-off-my-shirt thing works for me too.”
Addison laughed but then she fell silent and looked up at him with those brown eyes. “Kiss me, Reid.”
Reid dipped his head and met her mouth in a sweet kiss that quickly heated up into something hot and hungry. Groaning, laughing, they pulled, tugged, and shed clothing, leaving a trail all the way to the bedroom. They fell onto the bed in a heap of tangled arms and legs, kissing with a wild, all-consuming passion. Reid had never kissed this way, felt this way, and when he entered the welcoming heat of her body he knew that he never wanted to be with another woman. Nothing could compare to . . . this.
Reid made love to Addison deeply, intensely. He watched the play of emotion on her beautiful face through half-lidded eyes drinking in every detail. And when she slid her arms to the side and fisted her hands in the covers the sight would remain in his memory forever.
25
Against the Wind
“ANGIE, YOU PROBABLY DON’T REMEMBER WHEN THIS WAS done by pulling hair through a rubber cap,” Maggie said, while the cute hairstylist slid a foil beneath a few strands of Maggie’s hair.
Angie dipped a fat brush into a bowl, painting and weaving with quick efficiency. “No, but I’ve actually had clients that ask for it and call it having their hair frosted.”
Maggie chuckled. “Well, I guess I’m dating myself. But, then again, when I was a teenager I used to spray Sun-In onto my hair. Oh, how times have changed. I wonder if they still make that stuff.”
“Products are so much better now. A lot less harsh on your hair, for sure.” Angie gazed at Maggie in the mirror. “Well, I think you’re ready to process, my soon-to-be blond bombshell. Would you like a magazine to read?”
“Please.” Maggie nodded and the foils clinked together, sounding like a whispering wind chime.
Angie handed her a People magazine. “Sorry. It’s a few weeks old. I’ll see if I can find another one.”
“Don’t worry. This is fine.” With a dismissive wave Maggie smiled, then started flipping through the pages, looking at the pictures and shaking her head at Lindsay Lohan’s latest blunder and wondering why the public found the Kardashians so fascinating. The photo of shirtless Huge Jackman had her pausing to appreciate his amazing chest.
“Oh, very nice.” Angie looked over Maggie’s shoulder as she unfolded a foil and checked the progress. “I’m kinda into older dudes. Don’t know why.”
“Older dudes are sexy too,” Maggie said. Very sexy, she thought with an inner sigh. When her mind drifted to the passionate night of lovemaking with Richard she almost had to fan her face with the magazine. Having lived through some tough times in her life—her mother’s desertion, her father’s wrath, single parenting, and fighting breast cancer—Maggie always drew inward for strength and forged on with a brave smile, even when she was shaking on the inside. She’d always longed for but never really thought that love would find her. Having Richard come into her life at this stage of the game felt like a miracle to Maggie and she treasured every single minute with him.
Love, it seemed, hadn’t passed her by after all.
Maggie closed her eyes and swallowed hard. Richard had said he had something special planned for tonight. She simply could not wait to find out what he had in mind, but Maggie had the feeling it was going to be amazing. And if he told her that he loved her she was going to say it back because she was head over heels in love with Richard Rule.
Giddy with happiness, Maggie flipped the pages of People, not really seeing what she was looking at, but something gave her pause. Wait. . . . She turned back a few pages, thinking she’d spotted Addison Monroe. “Yes,” she murmured, and took a sip of her water. Sure enough, there was the pretty little bridal shop owner. Addison was on tiptoe, kissing a leather-clad, long-haired, bearded man. Because Addison was so down-to-earth Maggie had forgotten that she was the daughter of famous finance guru Melinda Monroe, but who was the guy? He looked old enough to be her father. Maggie read the caption beneath the photo: After recently breaking off her engagement to Garret Ruleman, rumors are flying that Addison Monroe is having an affair with none other than Rick Ruleman, Garret’s rock-legend father. Both Addison Monroe and Rick Ruleman have been suspiciously absent from the LA area, while Garret has been dropping hints that the rumors are indeed true.
Maggie shook her head. Addison sure didn’t seem like the kind of girl who would do such a sordid thing. She was about to turn the page but there was something about the picture of Rick Ruleman that made her heart start to race. The hair might be long, he might have a beard, but she would know that smile, those eyes anywhere. Rick Ruleman.
Richard Rule.
“Oh my God,” she whispered. The picture suddenly swam before her eyes and she felt as if her heart was going to jump right out of her chest. Her breath came in shallow gasps.
She had to get out of the salon before she fell to pieces.
Rick Ruleman had been hiding out in Cricket Creek . . . in plain sight. Of course, minus the hair, beard, and leather he looked like a totally different man. Did Addison Monroe know? Was Addison still seeing him on the sly and dating Reid Greenfield just for show? Was Reid being played for a fool as well? Questions buzzed around in her head like angry hornets stinging her brain with each horrible speculation.
“How we doing here?” Angie’s cheerful voice barely registered. She opened one of the foils. “Oh yeah, looking good!”
Maggie nodded, unable to speak. She took a long breath and dug deep, thinking she’d spent most of her life hiding her anguish, her sorrow. She could do it again.
“Let’s get you to the sink for a rinse and then I’m going to make you love your hair. Hope you’re doing something special tonight, because you’re going to be one hot chick.” She smiled. “Not that you’re not already gorgeous.”
Maggie managed to smile and go through the motions, answering questions and listening to Angie chatter away, but on the inside her heart thudded so hard that her chest ached. When she laughed at one of Angie’s jokes Maggie’s voice sounded as brittle as she felt. She wouldn’t have been surprised if when she stood up from the chair her body would shatter into a million pieces.
“You’re being awfully quiet, Maggie. Don’t you like your hair?”
“Oh . . . oh no! I love it, Angie. My mind is just wandering off. I truly love it.”
Angie gave her a smile edged with relief. “You had me worried for a hot minute.”
Maggie paid and gave Angie a nice tip, sorry that she made the sweet girl fret. She blinked in the bright sunshine thinking that just a couple of hours ago she’d been so excited about her evening with Richard. Her hand actually shook as she opened the door of her SUV and for a couple of minutes she simply sat behind the wheel, trying to maintain her composure.
When Maggie pulled into Wedding Row she didn’t even know how she arrived there. After getting out of her SUV she absently locked the doors and then glanced at From This Moment, wondering if she should go in and confront Addison. She inhaled deeply, trying to find the gumption, but came up empty. Instead, she walked on wooden legs up to her apartment, dropped her purse to the floor with a solid thud, kicked off her shoes, and then sank onto the sofa with a cry of utter despair.
Maggie rarely allowed herself the luxury of tears, or maybe the well had dried up long ago. After her mother left, Maggie would sit by the window, waiting, hoping for her to return, and then cry herself to sleep at night, holding the red teddy bear, the last gift her mother had given her. Looking back Maggie wondered if her mother had been bipolar. There were no words of comfort from her father but he was so consumed by anger that she supposed there wasn’t room for any other emotion. Back then no one spoke about mental illness and perhaps if they had known, understood, her mother could have been helped. Instead she simply disappeared.