Twice Kissed - Lisa Jackson [66]
“It would be easier to explain.”
“No.” Maggie had, in the past, gone along with her sister on most of Mary Theresa’s harebrained plans, but she wasn’t going to sacrifice herself this way.
“What does it matter?” Mary Theresa was warming to her plan; didn’t seem to think that exposing the fact that Maggie was seeing Thane on the sly was anything close to a problem.
“It matters.”
“He’s just a cowboy.”
“That’s not the point.” Maggie ran a comb through her hair and winced as the teeth caught in a tangle. With a hand towel, she rubbed a clear spot in the steaming mirror and tried to see her reflection as a current pop artist’s voice filled the room.
“Come on, Mag—”
“No!” Maggie worked on her hair, dragging the comb through her wet, wavy tresses. “Ouch.”
“Just listen—”
Knuckles rapped soundly on the door to Maggie’s room. “Girls?” Bernice’s voice was loud enough to be heard over the radio. “When you’re dressed come into the family room. Your father and I want to talk to you.”
“Shit!” Mary Theresa whispered, her face draining of all color.
“Girls? Did you hear me?”
“In a minute,” Maggie yelled.
“Well, hurry up. It’s late.”
“Oh, God, what will we do?” Mary Theresa asked, her hand to her mouth. “If they figure out—”
Maggie was sick inside. The images of the hot tub rolled through her mind. “You and Mitch, you didn’t—”
“No!” Mary was shaking her head furiously. “Okay, it got close, but we didn’t.” Her face wrinkled. “It was stupid, I know. Just messin’ around, drinking too much, and…oh, God, Maggie, you’ve got to believe me.” Tears were running down her cheeks, and she swiped them away with the back of her hand. Mascara smudged on her cheeks, and her eyes appeared sunken. In a matter of seconds she seemed to have aged ten years. “Please,” she begged.
Maggie’s fingers tightened around the rattail of the comb.
“I’ll do anything for you, if you just tell Mom and Dad that it was you. That you and Thane—”
The plastic comb broke. Maggie knew she was being a fool, manipulated by the master, but she had no choice. If her folks had any inkling, any idea that there was even the tiniest hint of incest…Her stomach clenched as the word burned through her brain. “Okay. Okay.” She walked into her room, found a pair of panties in her top drawer, stepped into them, and let the towel drop onto the floor. She scrounged around on the foot of the bed until she found her bathrobe and slid her arms through the sleeves. Cinching the belt tight around her waist, she looked at Mary Theresa, who stood in the doorway to the bathroom working at scrubbing off the evidence that she’d been crying. “Let’s go.”
Together, their silent evil pact hanging between them, they headed toward the family room. Maggie braced herself, steeling her shoulders, determined to take her parents’ wrath rather than have the family torn apart because Mitch and Mary Theresa were morons with the morals of alley cats.
She thought fleetingly of her own actions, of lying about what she was doing at the ranch, of the times she’d been with Thane in the woods, the fields, or the hayloft of the stables. Her skin tingled, and she flushed a little. Her parents would grill her and her father would probably threaten Thane, order him to stay away from Maggie. Forever.
Pain split her heart. How could she do it? How could she sacrifice something so wonderful as the love she felt for this man? Her throat tight, her feet feeling like lead weights, she followed Mary Theresa into the family room and saw the censure in their father’s eyes as he stood near the fireplace, his shoulders stiff, his spine rigid, his face the mask of a drill sergeant. “I want answers, girls. Straight ones.” He motioned to the leather couch. “Sit.”
“Frank,” their mother said. She was seated in her favorite wing-backed chair, one foot resting on an ottoman. “There’s no reason to be hostile.”
“They’re lying and Mitch—” He rolled his eyes toward the ceiling and nodded as if he were slowly counting