Getting Lucky (The Portland Pioneers Book 2) (17 page)

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Authors: Beth Bolden

Tags: #Romantic Comedy

BOOK: Getting Lucky (The Portland Pioneers Book 2)
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Who could blame me?
Maggie argued with herself.
Ruining dinner for the first time in my whole life is a really good reason to drink.

The moment of truth came, and thankfully, as Cal began to slice through the skin, there were no mummified explosions. And as he continued carving, and the flesh came off the bones, it certainly
looked
moist. Maggie figured she was maybe the only person in the entire room who understood just how badly she’d messed up, so when Ella shot her a triumphant “told you so” look, not even being the
least
subtle about it, Maggie ignored her.

She wasn’t going to believe it was actually edible until she took a bite and her mouth didn’t turn to dust.

Cal loaded her plate with turkey and Maggie found herself staring at the breast slices as everyone else started passing sides and laughing and eating.

“Maggie? Maggie?
Mags
!” She finally glanced up to see Cal’s exasperated expression. She also knew the moment he took in her glassy eyes and empty glass and came up with the right number. “My god,” he said, “you’re drunk.” He turned to Ella. “How
could
you?”

Ella just laughed, completely unapologetic.

“I am not drunk,” Maggie said with as much dignity as she could muster, enunciating each word as she went.

“Maggie left the turkey in the oven at a high temperature for a long time,” Rosa tried explaining, but Maggie could still feel every eye at the long table focused on her.

“It was all very stressful,” Maggie managed to add. “I needed some liquid courage.”

A hand reached over the table, sneaking around the butter dish and between a pair of salt and pepper shakers. Maggie glanced up in surprise to see it was Noah’s, and he gently unclenched her fingers from her fork and wrapped her small hand in his larger one. “The turkey is amazing,” he said, “and I’m not even saying that because it’s yours.”

“It really
is
good,” Rosa admitted. “Even I’m surprised.”

“That’s not possible,” Maggie insisted.

“Just try it, Maggie,” Noah said again in that way too kind, way too patient voice, his thumb caressing the inner skin of her wrist. There was no question of whether Cal could see his rather obvious gesture and she found the wine had taken away all semblance of caring. She might not even care if Cal saw them pressed up against the kitchen wall again, kissing like it was going out of style.

Noah released her hand and she hesitantly picked up her fork and even though she hadn’t thought everyone was
lying
exactly, the turkey practically fell apart even from the pressure of the utensil. Which made no sense at all. When she speared a piece and popped it in her mouth, she still couldn’t believe it. It was the best turkey she’d ever made—and she’d practically gone out of her way to ruin it.

She smiled then, and from the look on Noah’s face, she knew it must have been pretty blinding. “You’re right,” she said, theoretically to the entire table, but her eyes were only on his.

“Even if I hadn’t been,” Noah said casually, as if he wasn’t blowing up her fears with every single word out of his damn mouth, “you know, it wouldn’t have made a bit of difference to me.”

“If I wasn’t here, I’d be eating spam,” Ella added. “And spam for Thanksgiving is just sad.”

Cal gave her one of his funny, stern looks. “Spam at
any
time is just sad. But what Ella said. I’d be mucking by on my own, and you know how pathetic that is.”

When you were really, really good at something, Maggie had always believed it was hard not to let it overtake your whole self. Kind of like how Tabitha had let her beauty overwhelm her, and how sometimes Maggie found it hard to separate her value as a person from her value as someone who could
really
cook.

“What they’re saying,” Rosa corrected softly, her voice sweet, “is that we’re thankful not for the food, though we like that, but for the chance to be together.”

Maggie felt her throat swell with tears, and she really,
really
didn’t want to cry. Blotchy cheeks, swollen eyes, and a runny nose weren’t ingredients that went well with the hot makeout session she was already planning with Noah after dinner.

“Thanks guys,” was all she trusted herself to say. “But you still better be thankful for the food.”

Cal laughed then, and it was so much like he’d used to sound before all this stupid “please date me” and “I’m so damn jealous of Noah” nonsense that her heart contracted and expanded just a little more. Maybe this would all work out, after all.

 

Her kitchen was a cacophony of noise and laughter and the potential for water slopping over the sink and onto the floor as Cal and Ella did the dishes. Maggie needed some fresh air and quiet as she finally began to sober up, and so she slipped outside to the porch, letting the front door shut with a quiet click behind her. Taking a deep breath, she shivered a little as the late November air chilled her bare arms.

The door opened and then closed behind her. She didn’t turn to see who it was because she didn’t need to—she already knew it was Noah.

“It was a great dinner,” he said quietly, coming up behind her, his breath brushing the back of her neck. “Thank you for inviting me.”

Now that she was finally sobering up a little, nerves danced along her spine at how very near he was. He made her practically vibrate every time he was even in her vicinity. She didn’t want to think it, but was this why Tabitha had latched onto him? Had he made her buzz with the same electricity?

“Nobody should be alone on Thanksgiving,” Maggie insisted, trying to clear her head from those annoying thoughts that wouldn’t quite die. She’d told herself that in time, they’d fade, but sometimes it was hard to believe.

“You’re cold,” he said, wrapping his warm arms around her, pulling her back into him. But unlike Cal, he didn’t insist she go back inside before she caught her death. It was nice, she thought, not to be told what to do, to be treated like she was twenty seven instead of seven and could legitimately think for herself.

Maybe Cal couldn’t even help it; he’d known her for her entire life and that was a long time to try to reconcile yourself to a romantic relationship, but Maggie was pretty certain she wouldn’t like what he’d probably evolve into. He wouldn’t mean to be overprotective, but he would be, because deep down he probably couldn’t stop seeing her as that seven year old girl making mud pies in the street.

“It was a really nice day. It wouldn’t have been as nice without you,” she said and meant every word.

“I didn’t do much,” he replied wryly.

“You did enough,” she insisted.

“Enough to get a real date?”

She should have known he would ask, and Maggie weighed the question seriously, glad that she’d managed to sober up enough to not just blurt out yes.

Turning to face him, she reached up and touched his cheek, which wasn’t quite as smooth as it had been when he’d come over hours earlier. She liked the rough stubble though and rubbed it with her thumb. “I need to tell you something,” she admitted. “About Calvin.”

To her surprise, he just smiled. “I already know. He wants to date you.”

“He
did,” she said in surprise, amazed that he’d figured it out so easily. Was Cal really that obvious?

“Did?”

Maggie sighed. “He doesn’t
really
want to. He just feels alone and stuck here. I had to tell him it was a terrible idea.”

“Maggie,” Noah said, and even though the sky was nearly dark, she could still make out the serious expression in his eyes. “You don’t need to do anything you don’t want to.”

“That’s the thing,” she said, biting her lower lip and continuing to stroke his face. In the dusk, shadows darkening his face, he looked crazy beautiful. “What I want feels pretty clear.”

Noah shrugged. “Then you’re going to have to explain the problem.”

“Calvin is my best friend. I love him. I don’t want to hurt him. And even if I tell him that dating you has nothing to do with him, he’s still going to feel like I chose you over him.”

“I get it,” Noah said, and Maggie hated the shuttered look in his eyes, as if he was already preparing himself for another disappointment.

“I’m not saying no forever,” she insisted. “I’m saying I can’t just jump into dating you publicly. I just need a little more time.”

A ghost of a smile emerged and Maggie liked that a whole lot better. “So I can still do this?” he asked, leaning down to brush his lips over hers.


Definitely
yes.”

“Just not in the Café or at the movie theater or the Cliffs.”

“Not yet, no,” she said, letting out the breath she hadn’t quite realized she was holding. “I’m sorry, I know it seems a lot to ask.”

He gave her a look like she’d just grown a third eye. “It’s not at all. It’s one of the things I like so much about you; you
think
about other people. You care about them. You take care of them.”

“I’m actually pretty selfish,” she claimed and Noah just shook his head, grinning.

“Not even for a second,” he said, wrapping an arm tight around her waist.

“The Café is closed tomorrow. Maybe I could help you on the house, so you could move out the hotel sooner.”

“I’m not even surprised you’d offer,” Noah said, his smile widening. “It’s such a Maggie thing for you to suggest.”

“So?” she asked hopefully.

“I have no idea what I’m doing,” he admitted and she just laughed.

“Me either.”

“Then we can be lost together,” he said, wrapping her tighter and Maggie never wanted to leave the warm embrace of his arms because it felt so
right
. She’d pretty much rather be lost with him than found with anyone else.

It started out as such a good morning. When Maggie woke up, the sun was shining—
still
even though it was almost December—she hadn’t had to set her alarm for death o’clock, and she was going to spend the day with Noah. Okay, so it was actually more like actual physical labor and not the good kind, but
semantics
, Maggie thought.

She showered and started the coffeemaker, dancing around the kitchen to the music she’d flipped on—she didn’t even know who it was, some young pop group maybe, but it was upbeat and dance-able and that was all she cared about. Keeping the beat, she wiggled over to her laptop, and booted it up, planning on quickly checking her email before heading over to Noah’s new house. 

He’d already texted her twice this morning, a “good morning sunshine,” and another message to let her know he’d left for the house and that he’d see her soon. Simple, basic even, but her smile, so wide it nearly hurt, was practically an automatic reaction. 

Yeah, she though as she leaned over the desk and opened her email, she had it
bad

Maggie froze after her email program loaded. Sitting right there at the top of her inbox, oh so casually, as if it wouldn’t destroy everything, was a response from Tabitha. 

Slowly, Maggie lowered herself into the chair and faced her worst nightmare. After weeks had gone by and she’d heard nothing, she had begun to assume that there wouldn’t be a reply. She’d taken it as permission of a sort to do what she’d been doing. Plus, it wasn’t like Noah was sitting around, pining after Tabitha or anything. He was interested in
Maggie
now, but she wasn’t stupid. Noah had spent almost two years trying to move on; he must have really loved Tabitha. There was no telling what might happen if Tabitha decided she’d made the wrong choice and pulled out the stops to get Noah back. 

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