Divine Temptation (8 page)

Over the next few weeks the angel returned many times, but not every night. Sometimes Maggie never fully woke, but was only aware of him standing there. Other nights, she couldn’t stop herself from pelting more questions at him, trying to solve the mystery. But his continued prayers to grant patience seemed to be working, and she found herself content to simply accept him as a new friend, a heavenly gift, and became satisfied with waiting for the Lord reveal his plan.

“What do you think of Evan? For your name?” she asked one night. “It means ‘God is gracious.’ I was thinking it’s also short for evangelic, and it rhymes with heaven. Too cheesy?”

He smiled. “Not too cheesy. I like it. It’s nice to meet you, Maggie. I’m Evan.”

Chapter 6

W
ITH
E
VAN’S
V
ISITS
C
ONFINED
to Maggie’s alone time at night, she found it wasn’t difficult at all to continue with life as normal while keeping her secret. The only difference was her greater sense of satisfaction as she moved about her days. The riddle of the angel’s appearance had been successfully set aside for the time being, and without Maggie realizing exactly how it had happened, she’d begun opening up to him regarding certain personal struggles, namely Melissa.

Talking it out had helped Maggie accept the new woman in her children’s lives as more than simply the price she’d have to pay for refusing to fix her marriage. Evan’s patient listening and wise counsel led her to be truly happy that Carl’s girlfriend had taken an interest in the kids. It was much preferable to the alternative—a shrew who tried to separate them from their father.

On a Sunday evening in mid-May, Carl brought the kids home after a weekend at his place. When Kirsten and Liam ran upstairs to dump their bags, he walked into the kitchen and took a seat by the island, waiting for them to come back down to give him a kiss goodbye. As usual, Maggie offered him a drink.

“A water would be great,” he said.

His deep voice was flatter than usual, leading Maggie to take a closer look at him. He exhibited all his usual vitality as he perched on the stool, and nothing in his handsome features seemed drawn or tired, but his eyes, which almost always glinted with a hint of mischief, were dull, and something about him looked lost.

“Rough week?” she asked as she handed him a bottled water.

“Mediocre.” He downed half the bottle in one swig.

The kids reappeared and gave their dad a hug before Liam barraged Maggie with an account of what he’d done all weekend. It seemed to come out in a single, indecipherable word. Ever since he’d started speaking full sentences, Maggie and Carl had joked that he must somehow absorb oxygen through his freckles, because he rarely stopped to take a breath.

“We went to the batting cages, and Liam here has a wicked swing,” Carl translated.

“Yeah, wicked
boring
,” Kirsten grumbled.

Maggie wrapped her arm around her daughter’s shoulder and pulled her close. “Don’t worry. Liam’s outnumbered by the girls now that you’re back here. What do you say we all go get our toenails painted this week?”

“Cool!” Liam shouted. “I’m gonna get Yoda painted on mine.”

Maggie’s eyes moved to Carl, who she knew would rather be publicly flogged than have a drop of nail polish touch his precious son’s toes.

Her ex-husband cocked a teasing eyebrow. “I think we’re going to have to revisit our custody arrangement and stipulate what is and is not allowed during our respective visits.”

As if on cue, Kirsten’s phone buzzed with a text message. “Yeah, I’ve got a few retroactive stipulations I’d like to get in there,” Maggie retorted. The cell phone had been an unauthorized purchase during one of the weekend visits with Daddy. But that battle had been fought and was over, as reflected in Carl’s smile, and Maggie thought about how nice it was to be able to joke about these things rather than scream at each other, as they’d done for so long. Kirsten disappeared into the next room, returning the text, and Liam asked to use the computer.

“Half an hour for both of you,” Maggie called out loudly enough for Kirsten to hear. “Then it’s up to bed. School tomorrow.”

Maggie turned to Carl as Liam scampered down the hall to the computer cabinet in the front room.

“Did they get their homework all done?” she asked.

“Yes, chief. Kirsten’s got that big reading project due at the end of this week. We started, but she’ll probably need to spend a good two hours on the diorama she decided to make. And don’t forget, Liam’s third-grade sing is this Thursday, so I’ll see you then. Do you want to maybe go out for pizza or something after?”

“That’d be nice.” She watched Carl polish off the last of his water and smiled. “You’re a good dad.”

He tilted his head and narrowed his eyes.

“Sorry,” Maggie said. “I’m sure I don’t tell you that often enough, but I mean it.”

“Thanks.” He flashed a sincere smile without an ounce of cockiness in it, and then the grin faded. “Look, I may as well tell you before the kids do. Melissa and I called it quits last week.”

Maggie was stunned. As far as she’d known, all had been well in paradise. She didn’t know what to say—what was the appropriate response when one’s ex-husband announced he’d just broken up with his girlfriend?

She settled on a simple, “I’m so sorry.” And she meant it. She didn’t like to see him so sad, and she worried about her children’s reactions—would it be too much for them to handle after seeing their parents split? But she decided against laying that guilt on him at the moment. Eyeballing his empty water bottle, she said, “Perhaps I should have offered you something stronger, like I don’t know…rubbing alcohol?”

Carl let out a dark chuckle. “I’ll settle for a glass of wine. Thanks.”

“Oh, okay.” She’d only been joking, but okay. “Red or white?”

“Red.”

She grabbed a bottle of trusty merlot and opened it. When she set a single glass on the counter, Carl said, “Please don’t make me drink alone.”

In addition to Carl sounding completely pathetic, Maggie noticed her arm shaking slightly and thought perhaps she could use a little nerve-soothing too. “Two glasses it is.” She poured and handed one to Carl. As he took a long, slow sip, she decided her best approach to the situation was to
not
try to say the right thing. He’d see through her anyhow and might even appreciate a little honesty.

“I’m surprised,” she said. “You two seemed pretty serious.”

He shrugged. “Nah. I wasn’t serious, anyway. She’s a great girl and a lot of fun, but the fun doesn’t last forever, as you well know. When it stopped being fun, there just wasn’t enough substance to make it worth the trouble. She’s pretty broken up, but I thought it was better to end it now instead of stringing her along, you know?”

“Yeah, I suppose you’re right.”

Silence lingered in Maggie’s small kitchen. She stared into her un-sipped half-glass of wine, feeling bad for Melissa and wondering about the kids. They hadn’t seemed upset when they’d come into the house, but that didn’t mean there wouldn’t be repercussions. While she was still lost in her thoughts, Carl spoke. “You’re the only girl I’ve ever been serious about.”

Her eyes snapped up to him. He was looking straight at her wearing a small, sad smile. She recognized the expression—it was the same one he’d used so many times before the divorce to tell her he was sorry. She lifted her glass and took a gulp. Immediately after swallowing, she asked, “How’d the kids take the news?”

“They seem okay. Kirsten asked if she could still call Melissa sometimes and I told her she should wait a little bit, give Missy a bit of time, and then we’d talk about it again. I wanted to get your thoughts before saying anything definite.”

“Waiting seems like the best course for now. I’ll make sure to talk to Kirsten about it too.”

“Thanks. Sorry to dump this on you.”

“It’s fine. Part of the Great Divorce Adventure, right?”

“I guess.” He circled the counter to pick up the wine bottle and topped off each of their glasses. Nearly half an hour had passed, so Maggie called out for the kids to wash up for bed.

“How’s work going?” Carl asked while they waited.

“Fine. A bit of a power struggle going on right now between Father Tom and the visiting monsignor.”

“He’s still around?”

“Yep. And apparently he’ll be around for a while longer—he just announced last week that his stay’s been extended indefinitely. Which seems odd because none of us are even sure exactly why he’s here in the first place. How are things with you work-wise?”

“Same old bullshit. Remember when I couldn’t wait to get to this side of management? What was I thinking?”

The kids raced down the stairs, with Kirsten’s longer legs getting her to her father first. When it came time for his hug, Liam glowered at his sister all the way through it, but when he pulled back, his eyes scanned Carl’s full wine glass. “Dad, are you sleeping over?”

Carl laughed. “No, slugger, just relaxing a little bit before I head home.”

“Let’s go,” Maggie said, guiding the kids toward the stairs.

On the way up Kirsten pinched her brother’s arm, and chastised in a poorly concealed whisper, “You’re such an idiot.” Maggie gave her daughter a warning look but didn’t correct her.

After kissing both children good night at the top of the stairs, she returned to her guest. He’d moved to the couch, with both glasses and what remained of the bottle on the coffee table. Maggie walked over and tentatively sat at the other end of the sofa, reflexively picking up the remote. She was glad she and Carl had learned to function on friendly terms, but hanging out one-on-one like this felt odd.

“Am I keeping you from something?” Carl asked.

“No, not really. But I do have a bunch of shows recorded from last week that I haven’t watched yet.”

“Oh, like what?”

“Here, take a look.” She went to her list of recordings and scrolled through.

“Nice selection. Hey! Where’d you find that?” He took the remote and highlighted the name of an old sitcom that had only run for a few seasons. It had been one of Carl and Maggie’s favorites but had never done well in the ratings.

“On a fluke,” Maggie answered. “I was flipping channels and found it replaying on some obscure cable station. Want to watch?”

Carl shrugged. “Sure.” He clicked to start the show and settled into the sofa, laughing right away as he recognized the episode. Watching that show had been among the few good times the two of them had had together in those last years, and Maggie was now reminded that even though things had gotten pretty bad between them, there had always been a connection.

Instead of fast forwarding through the commercials, they started talking about old times. When the show returned, their conversation continued, stretching back to before Maggie and Carl had even been married. They drained the bottle, and Maggie felt completely relaxed with Carl for the first time in a very long while. By the time the episode ended, she was facing away from the television with her legs curled underneath her as she and Carl talked and laughed.

He flipped on the news, to which they paid no attention, and after a few more minutes of reminiscing, leaned his elbow onto the back of the couch and propped his head on his hand. “Do you know what I remember?” He gave her a sly smile and Maggie noted that the typical mischief had returned to his eyes.

“What?”

With his lips parted slightly, he imitated her moan. “
Eh, eh, oh.
” It was the sound she used to make when he stimulated just the right nerve. Maggie immediately flushed, but didn’t look away. The rich blue of his irises smoldered as he took in her reaction, and her insides fluttered in response.

“Do you still make that noise?” he asked in a low, unmistakably interested voice.

Maggie raised her eyebrows. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I haven’t had the opportunity in a while.”

“Really?” He seemed surprised, but not unpleasantly so. Lifting his hand, he ran his fingertips along Maggie’s jawline, and she noticed for the first time how very, very good he still smelled. Tickling his way down to her chin, he asked, “Would you like to make that noise again?”

Maggie was taken off guard by the abrupt change in the tenor of their conversation. She’d thought they were just having fun, two friends catching up on old times. How had all of
this
suddenly surfaced? Instead of posing that question to Carl, she stared stupidly into his eyes, thinking about how very much she’d like to make that noise again…with him.

He took her hesitation as acquiescence and pressed his mouth to hers. Her arm flew around his neck, and his hands pressed into the small of her back, crushing her to him while she clutched fistfuls of the salt and pepper hair at the back of his head and pulled him closer. He felt so good. It felt right. She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed him—the only boy she had ever been serious about.

Carl leaned on Maggie until her back pressed flat on the sofa cushions and he lay on top, his hips cradled between her thighs. She recognized the low growl that rumbled at the back of his throat, the urgency with which he was pressing into her—he didn’t intend to stop at a kiss. Maggie pressed her hands aside his face and pulled his mouth from hers. “What if one of the kids comes down? We can’t do this.”