Twice Kissed - Lisa Jackson [162]
The cigarette fell from his mouth and he shot out of his chair, grabbing his wallet, keys and gun. He was through the door in a heartbeat.
Thane had been edgy from the time he’d left the airport. He’d driven back to the hotel like a madman, trying not to blame himself for leaving Maggie alone, consoling himself with the fact that she was a smart woman, a woman who knew how to handle herself, and yet he was impatient with the traffic and the elevator in the hotel. The closer he got to her, the more nervous he became.
Because you love her, you idiot. You always have. From the first second you saw her walking along the side of the road, her spine stiff, her eyes straight ahead, her cheeks flushed as she headed to Flora’s ranch.
For years he’d denied the depth of his emotions to himself as well as the rest of the world, but the truth of the matter was that he loved her.
“Damn,” he ground out as the doors to the elevator opened and he strode down the hallway to their suite. But the minute Thane unlocked the door and walked into the hotel room, he knew something was wrong. Maggie wasn’t in the room, but it wasn’t empty. Her daughter, Becca, had plopped herself in the middle of the couch and was staring up at him with wide, distrustful eyes.
“I thought you were in L.A.” He glanced around the suite and saw no trace of Maggie, just Becca’s backpack.
“I was.”
“Where’s your mother?”
“At Marquise’s house. I just listened to the messages. She left one for you.”
Thane had a bad feeling about all this. The muscles in his back tightened. “She didn’t say anything about you coming here.”
“She doesn’t know,” Becca said, her eyes, so like Maggie’s, full of challenge. “I came on my own.”
“What happened in California?” he asked, walking to the phone.
“Nothin’ good,” Becca said as he listened to the message that Maggie had left. “I decided I needed to be with my mom.”
“And your aunt and uncle agreed?” he asked skeptically as he hung up. It was nearly three in the morning and, from the looks of her, Becca hadn’t been here long.
“They didn’t know,” she said. “I just called and talked to Aunt Connie.”
“Holy shit.”
“That’s what she said.”
Thane didn’t have much practice dealing with in-your-face teenagers, but he wasn’t going to take any lip from any kid. Even Maggie’s. “I think you’d better talk this over with your mom.”
“No shit, Sherlock. You drive.”
“And you watch your mouth.”
Becca’s eyes thinned. “I will. Just as soon as you watch yours.”
“We’ll talk about this in the car. I’ll call your mom from the cell phone.”
“I don’t need a lecture.”
“Well, kiddo, you’re gonna get one.” She grabbed her backpack and headed for the door without any sign of a limp. “And I doubt if you’re gonna like it.”
She opened her mouth to smart off again, thought better of it, and snapped her jaw closed. As far as Thane was concerned, that in and of itself was a major victory.
“Maggie?” Mary Theresa, devoid of makeup, wearing dirty jeans and a sweatshirt, her hair tangled and unwashed, stumbled through the back door and into the darkened kitchen.
“Oh, God!” Relief flooded through Maggie at the sight of her twin. Hot tears filled her eyes. “Mary Theresa!” She dashed across the room, stumbling slightly as she bumped into a bar stool, knocked against the knife rack, ignored the jab of pain in her shin and flung herself at her sister. “I was so worried, so damned worried,” she choked up as Mary Theresa crumpled in her arms. “I thought…oh, you don’t want to know what I thought.” She held her as if she couldn’t let go and all the bad feelings she’d harbored over the years—the jealousy, envy and distrust—melted away. This was her sister, her twin. And she looked like hell.
Mary Theresa was crying, her slender body wracked with sobs, her fingers digging into Maggie’s shoulders. “Oh, God, Maggie, I—I’ve been such a fool. Such a damned selfish fool.” She sniffed and pulled back long enough to wipe her nose with the back of her hand. Tears tracked from her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she squeaked out,