Maggie Moves On(55)

Rain pattered hard on the window, and a flash of lightning outside felt like fireworks when the thunder rumbled on its heels.

It’s a sign, he figured. All his years of kissing women and she was the first one who made him lose his damn mind in the process.

“Um,” Maggie managed when he pulled back.

He grinned down at her, settling his hands on her shoulders.

“Is this how you seal all your deals in Idaho?” she asked, taking a self-preserving step back.

“Only the good ones.” He winked.

The house suddenly filled with what sounded like a funeral organ. “What the hell was that?”

“Pizza’s here,” she said, reaching around him for the doorknob. “What does this all mean?” she asked.

He knew she wasn’t talking about doorbells or pizza toppings. “It means we see where this goes.”

“It can’t go far,” she warned him. “I’m not staying.”

“My nice crisp five dollars says otherwise,” Silas said, opening the door for her. He could already smell garlic and tomato sauce.

“Sy.” She stopped him in the hall with a hand on his arm. “It’s not a game. I don’t want either one of us getting hurt.”

He slung an arm around her shoulder and pulled her against him. “I know, darlin’. But it’s bound to happen. The sooner you accept that, the sooner we can start havin’ a good time. Not getting hurt isn’t a good enough reason to not enjoy yourself. You tell me when you’re ready.”

He gave her another squeeze before releasing her and whistled his way in the direction of pizza and chatter.

They gathered in the front rooms, where the floors had been sanded down and most of the wallpaper stripped. It already felt lighter and brighter in here. And filled with a dozen workers, the house seemed like it was alive.

“Maggie, you ever think about getting some furniture?” Jim asked from his perch on a toolbox.

“How do you watch TV?” Marta wanted to know.

Maggie wandered over to the pizza boxes and selected a loaded slice. “What would I do with a couch and a TV?” she asked.

“Maybe relax for thirty minutes?” Dean suggested from his perch in the bay window across the hall.

“Then who would run the rest of your asses ragged while I had my feet up watching soap operas?” she teased.

Silas glanced around and gave it some thought. The woman was living and working in a construction zone. She was camping under a roof. It sure made it easier to consider circumstances temporary when they were that far from comfortable.

An idea began to take root. A diabolical one.

He got drawn into a good-natured argument with Jim about the high school team’s shot at the state wrestling title next school year and let the idea start to bloom.

The rain wasn’t letting up, and the play-by-play from everyone’s weather apps didn’t make any outdoor work likely until after four. The siding crew called it a day and made a mad dash for their trucks. While Silas convened his guys in the dining room to plan for the next day, Maggie wandered by with a bucket of hot, soapy water.

“Anyone seen Kevin?” Silas asked, noticing his dog wasn’t around, mooching leftovers.

“Not since he took the pizza crust off my plate,” Rudy reported.

Dismissing his crew, Silas stood in the rotunda and called for his dog. But the burly beast didn’t come running.

“I think he’s upstairs,” Dean called out from the kitchen, where he was starting the coffeemaker. “I passed him on the stairs a while ago. He had a pizza crust in his mouth like a stogie.”

Silas rolled his eyes and jogged up the sweeping staircase. He poked his head into the back bedrooms on the second floor. It looked like someone was definitely moving in up here.

A loud snore caught his attention from the front of the house.

He found Kevin curled up under the covers on a cot in the middle of the biggest bedroom Silas had ever seen. Maggie’s room. Tall, skinny doors led out to a balcony. A deep seat was built into a huge window, framing in the view of river and mountains.

The view was the only thing the room had going for it. The cot was pushed up against a wall where a king-size bed should be. Next to it was a small coffeemaker on the floor. Next to that was a painting of Mr. and Mrs. Campbell propped up against the wall. There was a power strip near the bed that housed a variety of chargers and a stack of spreadsheets and blueprints.

The woman even worked in bed.

Kevin gave another enthusiastic snore. His tail wagged under the thin blanket. Silas sighed, snapped a picture, and headed back downstairs.

He found Maggie and Dean in the study at the front of the house.

“Who wants to read a book next to a fire guarded by a gargoyle?” Dean complained, eyeing the fireplace surround currently being attacked by a scrub-brush-wielding Maggie.

It was a rainy afternoon, and Maggie Nichols was hell-bent on not taking advantage of it.

“Who doesn’t?” Sy and Maggie said together. She shot him a considering look.

Dean pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m gonna need you two to spend more time apart. I can only deal with one Maggie at a time.”

“Mags, how upset are you going to be if I tell you one of my crew decided to eat pizza and take a nap in your bed?” Silas asked.

She looked up and gave him her first real grin since the fight. It made him feel like some kind of champion. “I take it you found Kevin?”