other side of the door, not visible to Scott. Behind the door, she put her hand on his chest to hold him there.
“I saw your car in the lot,” Scott told her. “But you weren’t in the building anywhere. I got worried. Your tire—”
“I know.” Funny how just looking at him had always made her a little dizzy from all his fabulousness, but now she didn’t want to look at him.
She wanted to look at Jacob. Jacob, whose warm chest was pushing back just a little against her palm.
“I called our mechanic for you. It’ll be fixed by morning,” Scott said. “But how did you get home?”
She leaned into the door, trapping Jacob between the wall and the door. “I thought you were already gone. I thought everyone was gone. A friend brought me here. Thank you for calling your mechanic.”
“No problem.” He was looking past her, as if hoping he’d get invited in, and also trying to see the “friend.” The friend who with shocking stealth filched the garters right out of her pocket, the thief.
“So who slashed your tire?” Scott asked.
“Probably just a random thing. Well . . .” She flashed a quick smile. “Thanks for coming by—” She tried to shut the door but he put a hand on it.
“Want to grab dinner?”
How long had she imagined this, him asking her out, then having her realize she was the woman of his dreams? But then, she’d been with Jacob and now . . . and now she couldn’t imagine being with Scott at all. “Actually, Scott, I’m—”
“Trying to figure out who might have broken into her house.”
Maggie turned her head and locked gazes with Jacob, who smiled sweetly— sweetly? —as he came out from the other side of the door, standing a little close as he smiled politely at Scott.
Scott blinked. “Jacob? What are you doing here? And break-in? Here? Was anything stolen?”
Jacob narrowed his eyes. “Usually the first question is, are you okay?”
“Of course, of course.” Scott slapped his forehead. “I’m just flustered. A slashed tire and now a break-in. And you . . . you visiting. Maggie, are you okay?”
Well, let’s see. She had Jacob—who now had her garters in his pocket—on one side, and Scott, her maybe Mr. Right—who was currently eyeing Jacob—on the other.
Who was eyeing Scott right back.
Two men. Both wanting her. “I’m fine.”
“Maybe you should come back with me until we know you’re safe.”
“I’m staying,” Jacob said casually. “She’ll be safe.”
The testosterone level in the air rose to dangerous heights.
“I could stay, too,” Scott said. “No problem.”
Oh, yes, it was a problem. They were both a problem. And she had no experience with which to deal with this. She needed Janie. “Okay,” she said, gently pushing Scott over the threshold. “Thank you very much for coming by, but I’m going to be fine.”
Jacob smirked.
So she shoved him over the threshold as well. “And you have a flight to catch.”
“But—”
“Good night,” she said, firmly. “To the both of you.” She shut the door, letting out a slow, shaky breath as she leaned back against the wood, suddenly thankful she had Mr. Showerhead after all.
She ate a can of soup and a piece of toast, and didn’t let herself think about the nice dinner Scott might have taken her to. Or what she might be doing with Jacob right now if Scott hadn’t interrupted them. She changed into her pj’s and slathered on some of her skin care from the vial.
Someone knocked at her door and she hesitated, then looked through the peephole.
A dark eye looked back at her. A dark eye that seemed to be filled with both wry humor and annoyance, complete with a dash of affection.
Jacob pulled back so that she could see all six-feet-two inches of his leanly muscled frame, the one that tended to make her brain cells simultaneously combust.
He waggled his fingers at her.
She pressed her forehead to the door while her heart went off like a jackhammer. “Go away,
“I saw your car in the lot,” Scott told her. “But you weren’t in the building anywhere. I got worried. Your tire—”
“I know.” Funny how just looking at him had always made her a little dizzy from all his fabulousness, but now she didn’t want to look at him.
She wanted to look at Jacob. Jacob, whose warm chest was pushing back just a little against her palm.
“I called our mechanic for you. It’ll be fixed by morning,” Scott said. “But how did you get home?”
She leaned into the door, trapping Jacob between the wall and the door. “I thought you were already gone. I thought everyone was gone. A friend brought me here. Thank you for calling your mechanic.”
“No problem.” He was looking past her, as if hoping he’d get invited in, and also trying to see the “friend.” The friend who with shocking stealth filched the garters right out of her pocket, the thief.
“So who slashed your tire?” Scott asked.
“Probably just a random thing. Well . . .” She flashed a quick smile. “Thanks for coming by—” She tried to shut the door but he put a hand on it.
“Want to grab dinner?”
How long had she imagined this, him asking her out, then having her realize she was the woman of his dreams? But then, she’d been with Jacob and now . . . and now she couldn’t imagine being with Scott at all. “Actually, Scott, I’m—”
“Trying to figure out who might have broken into her house.”
Maggie turned her head and locked gazes with Jacob, who smiled sweetly— sweetly? —as he came out from the other side of the door, standing a little close as he smiled politely at Scott.
Scott blinked. “Jacob? What are you doing here? And break-in? Here? Was anything stolen?”
Jacob narrowed his eyes. “Usually the first question is, are you okay?”
“Of course, of course.” Scott slapped his forehead. “I’m just flustered. A slashed tire and now a break-in. And you . . . you visiting. Maggie, are you okay?”
Well, let’s see. She had Jacob—who now had her garters in his pocket—on one side, and Scott, her maybe Mr. Right—who was currently eyeing Jacob—on the other.
Who was eyeing Scott right back.
Two men. Both wanting her. “I’m fine.”
“Maybe you should come back with me until we know you’re safe.”
“I’m staying,” Jacob said casually. “She’ll be safe.”
The testosterone level in the air rose to dangerous heights.
“I could stay, too,” Scott said. “No problem.”
Oh, yes, it was a problem. They were both a problem. And she had no experience with which to deal with this. She needed Janie. “Okay,” she said, gently pushing Scott over the threshold. “Thank you very much for coming by, but I’m going to be fine.”
Jacob smirked.
So she shoved him over the threshold as well. “And you have a flight to catch.”
“But—”
“Good night,” she said, firmly. “To the both of you.” She shut the door, letting out a slow, shaky breath as she leaned back against the wood, suddenly thankful she had Mr. Showerhead after all.
She ate a can of soup and a piece of toast, and didn’t let herself think about the nice dinner Scott might have taken her to. Or what she might be doing with Jacob right now if Scott hadn’t interrupted them. She changed into her pj’s and slathered on some of her skin care from the vial.
Someone knocked at her door and she hesitated, then looked through the peephole.
A dark eye looked back at her. A dark eye that seemed to be filled with both wry humor and annoyance, complete with a dash of affection.
Jacob pulled back so that she could see all six-feet-two inches of his leanly muscled frame, the one that tended to make her brain cells simultaneously combust.
He waggled his fingers at her.
She pressed her forehead to the door while her heart went off like a jackhammer. “Go away,
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