Twice Kissed by Lisa Jackson Read Free Book Online

low-slung battered jeans, and a chest that was wide enough to be interesting without a lot of extra weight.
    Just muscle.
    Great.
    His physique was the last thing she should notice.
    “It’s been too long,” she muttered. Too many months without a man.
    “What?” Becca roused.
    “Nothing, honey. We’re home.” Pocketing her keys, she touched Becca on the shoulder and looked away from the dark sensuality of a man she didn’t trust, a man who’d stolen her heart only to break it.
    Becca blinked and rubbed the sleep from her eyes as snowflakes hit the windshield, collecting on the wipers. She looked at the cabin, lights glowing warmly in the cold night, then rolled her eyes expressively. “Terrific.”
    “I’ll get the crutches.”
    “Don’t need ’em.”
    “Of course you do.” Shouldering open the door, Maggie ducked her head against the flurries of snow and dashed to the back of the Jeep. Over the noise of the wind, she heard Thane’s boot steps steadily approaching, gravel crunching. Stupidly, her heart began to pound. “Get a grip,” she admonished.
    Don’t even think about him.
    “How is she?” he asked, pulling the crutches from the cargo space.
    “She’ll be okay. The doctor thinks it’s just a sprain. Not a bad one at that.”
    “Good.” He actually seemed relieved. As if he cared. What a joke. Maggie wasn’t going to fall into that particular trap. Not when Thane Walker was involved. But as she slammed the Jeep’s cargo door closed, she caught a glimpse of him helping Becca out of the Jeep. Rather than force her to use the crutches, he lifted her off her feet and, sheltering her body against the cold, carried her swiftly across the snow-dusted lot to the house. A twinge of unwelcome forgiveness tugged at her heart.
    “Don’t be fooled,” she warned herself, as she grabbed the crutches he’d left propped against a fender, then jogged to the porch where Thane, hugging Becca tight, waited until she opened the door. He carried Becca inside.
    Barkley’s back end was wiggling crazily, and he, on his three good legs, trotted through the closing door a minute before Maggie snagged the handle and walked inside too. “Traitor,” she said to the dog, and old Barkley didn’t even have the decency to look abashed. “Fine watchdog you turned out to be.”
    Once inside, she motioned toward the hallway. “She should go right to bed…” Maggie began to instruct, but Thane was already hauling Becca in the right direction.
    Still toting the damned crutches, Maggie marched into the bedroom and watched Thane place her daughter on the single bed tucked into the corner of the chaos Becca unhappily called home. She thawed a little as she saw how tenderly he laid Becca on the old quilt, but she reminded herself that whatever Thane was doing, it was all an act. He was here with a purpose, and it had something to do with Mary Theresa.
    Mary Theresa.
    Dread assailed Maggie once again.
    Where was she? What was that horrible, painful plea she’d heard earlier? Had Mary Theresa tried to contact her, or had it all been in her head, a great blip in the universe, a coincidence that she’d heard from her sister after months of silence?
    Goose bumps rose on her arms as she stacked the crutches in a corner near the bookcase, then opened a wicker chest and pulled out a couple of extra pillows which she used to prop up Becca’s foot. As if sensing mother and daughter should be alone, Thane winked at Becca, whistled to the dog, and slipped out of the room.
    “Can I get you anything?” Maggie asked, pulling on the edges of the antique quilt that she’d bought at an estate sale years before. On the table, Becca’s lava lamp was glowing an undulating blue.
    “Nah.” Becca’s eyes were beginning to close. Posters of teen idols adorned the walls, and the scatter rugs on the floor were covered with makeup, CDs, magazines and stuffed animals left over from her younger years.
    “Not even some hot cocoa?” Maggie