McCallum Quintuplets by Kasey Michaels Page B

had already started looking at her in a new way a few weeks ago? And then the bracelet, instead of a food processor or a telescope? And that kiss? The way he’d held her? The way he’d touched her?
    Ian pointed at the couch. “May I sit down?”
    She nodded, smiled. “It’s your couch.”
    Ian took a single step in the direction of the couch, then hesitated, looked at her. “Do you want a soda? I do. My…my mouth is kind of dry all of a sudden.”
    Oh, this was fun. This was really fun. Was it possible for a person to get drunk on angora fibers? “I’m okay,” she said, “but you go ahead. Get a soda if you need it.”
    â€œIt’s not that I need —oh, hell, Maddie! What are we doing here? Is this any kind of conversation? I don’t think so. I’m sitting down now,” he announced, then sat, his bare feet flat on the floor, his hands on his knees, his head facing forward. “There. I’m sitting.”
    And Madeline was sitting.
    They were both sitting.
    Sitting silently.
    Not moving.
    Madeline played with her new bracelet, turning it round and round her wrist.
    Ian swallowed hard, coughed into his hand.
    The clock on the mantel struck twelve times, announcing the hour.
    Madeline waited. She knew this man. She’d known this man forever; he’d been a part of her forever. If she said something now, he’d say something back, and after the way he’d tied his tongue into knots last night, she didn’t think having a conversation was the way to go. Better he should give her a quick monologue, without interruptions.
    So she’d just wait. Let him say what was on his mind without any prompting. He’d figure out a way.
    â€œI, um, I really didn’t explain myself very well last night, Maddie,” he said at last, and she kept facing forward, careful not to do anything that would interrupt his flow of words. “And then you interrupted me, wouldn’t let me finish….”
    Madeline’s eyes widened, and she bit her tongue so that she wouldn’t respond. Especially since he was right. She had interrupted him. She hadn’t let him finish what he had been trying to say.
    â€œWell…not that we’re going to rehash that,” Ian said, his knuckles white as he squeezed his hands on his kneecaps. “But what I was saying was that I’d been thinking about our relationship—our friendship—the past couple of weeks, and about how I’d feel if you ever weren’t a…a part of my life.”
    Now she did turn, look at him. Not be a part of hislife? How could he think such a thing? “I’d never leave you, Ian. I couldn’t.”
    He sort of nodded, pressed the palm of his hand against his mouth, then slipped his hand around so that he was squeezing the back of his neck. Her heart broke for him. “Oh, God, why is this so difficult? Am I that afraid that you meant what you said last night? That you loved me once, but think of me now as just your good friend? Have I blown it with my lousy timing, Maddie? Please tell me I haven’t blown it.”
    Maddie put her hand on his. “You haven’t blown it, Ian. But are you sure? Are you really sure?”
    He took her hand in his, raised it to his lips. “I love you, Maddie. I’m sure I love you. I’m sure I’m in love with you. I don’t know how it happened, when it happened, but if you ever left me I don’t know what I’d do. I just don’t know what I’d do without you.”
    â€œOh, Ian,” Madeline said, blinking back tears. “There’s a difference between the two of us being a habit and being in love. Are you sure?”
    â€œThat’s the question, isn’t it, Maddie? But it’s the one I have to ask you. Are you sure? I know what you said last night, that you loved me a long time ago. But what about now? Could you still love a man too thick to see