“Is that all right?” Maggie asked Jake.
He hadn’t a clue where that was, but said, “Sure, go ahead, Short Stuff.”
Without waiting for further instructions, Emily charged up the stairs. On the first landing, she came to an abrupt halt when the knob on the stair rail came off in her hands. Immediately, she and Maggie turned to him with identical expressions of fear, their faces pale, their eyes wide.
“I’m sorry.” Emily’s voice trembled. “I didn’t mean to break it.” She tried repeatedly to slot the knob back, but it wouldn’t stay put. Tears welled, tugging at his heartstrings. “I can’t fix it.”
Maggie hurried upstairs and wrapped her arms around her daughter, her pose both defensive and protective. “I’m sorry. I’ll inform the owners and pay for someone to come in and repair it straight away.”
Jake was startled by their terrified reaction to a simple accident. Images from the past few days began to slot together like pieces of a jigsaw. They formed a picture of the kind of baggage Maggie and Emily carried from their past. Anger roiled within him, but he knew he couldn’t show it.
Keeping his tone easy, he said, “No worries. This is an old house—you expect things to go wrong.”
Emily regarded him suspiciously, like she was waiting for a catch. A nasty catch. The dread in her eyes was like a punch to his gut.
“The owners probably meant to fix that knob for years. They’d have probably forgotten to let me know about it, so you’ve done me a favor, Short Stuff. Thanks.”
He went upstairs and joined them on the landing. They stiffened, but didn’t back away.
“I’ll take care of that.” He indicated the knob in her hand.
“Thank you, Mr. Jake.” Her half smile wrenched his heart.
The imp affected him almost as much as her mother.
“I can’t believe that call took so long.” Mimi walked onto the landing. “I’m sorry, but...” She broke off as she saw them standing uneasily at the top of the stairs. “Is everything all right?”
“Fine.” Jake said quickly. “Emily’s going to check out that princess room so her mom and I can do our tour of the house. Isn’t that right, Maggie?”
“Uh...yes.”
Emily waited for her mother’s nod before rushing off.
Mimi looked at Maggie. “Are you sure?”
Maggie’s uncertain gaze flicked to him. He could see she wanted to believe he wasn’t mad, but something held her back.
“She’s worried because this came off the banister.” He tossed the knob from hand to hand. “I’m trying to convince her it tells me the house has been well loved and lived in.”
“You’re absolutely right.” Mimi took the knob from him. “If only all clients understood such things. We’ll add it to the list of items that’ll need fixing, if you’re interested enough in the house to put in an offer.”
“Works for me.”
“Speaking of troublesome clients—” she held up her phone “—I’m sorry, but I really need to sort this one out before he blows his sale. You’re in capable hands with Maggie.”
“For sure. We can manage without you. Right, Maggie?”
Maggie nodded.
“Great.” Mimi headed downstairs. “Any problems and I’m only a phone call away,” she added wryly.
As the front door closed, Maggie cleared her throat. “Thank you,” she said softly.
Jake shrugged off her gratitude. “Shall we get on with the tour?”
“Certainly.” Her smile was tremulous but genuinely warm. “We can start up here.”
His excitement was tinged with sadness. While the incident had reinforced his feelings about the house, it had also reinforced why dating Maggie could never work.
Her defiant support for her daughter convinced him that someone had definitely mistreated them both. No wonder she was nervous, scared to trust him.
The problem was he didn’t know how to handle her or Emily. It had been bad enough screwing up with Adam. Getting it wrong with a vulnerable kid would be a million times worse. No, better to keep things casual. To focus on his game and winning the Cup.
It was a sensible plan. So why did he feel like a loser?
* * *
“DO YOU THINK the bed’s for sale?”
Jake’s question made Maggie’s heart swan-dive to her stomach.
She’d been trying to avoid looking at the beautiful cherrywood sleigh bed that took up most of the guest bedroom. It was the bed of her dreams.
From the moment she’d seen the bed she’d wanted it. Imagined herself in it. But her brain was playing tricks on her, because in her daydream she wasn’t alone. Or sleeping. Worse, Jake was the man who’d tangled the sheets with her in that daydream.