Secret Baby Santos by Bárbara McCauley

snatched his hand away. “What’s up? Maggie and I were just talking.”
    â€œYour date was looking for you.” Without taking his eyes off Roger, Nick strolled up the gazebo steps. “I think she wanted to say goodnight. She was putting her coat on, but you might catch her before she leaves.”
    Roger’s head snapped up. His date leaving before him had obviously not been part of his plan. “Oh, yeah. Right I guess I better do that. Well, ah, see you around. Nick. Maggie.”
    â€œNot if I see you first,” Maggie muttered when Roger scurried away. She glanced back at Nick, but he was still frowning after Roger. She still wasn’t certain whether she was relieved that Nick had shown up, or disappointed. The idea of tossing Roger on his butt had held a certain primitive pleasure.
    And yet, Nick coming to her rescue held a certain primitive pleasure, as well, though one of an entirely different nature.
    Turning, she leaned her back against the rail and
smiled. “I believe this is the part where I’m supposed to bat my eyes and cry. ‘My hero!’”
    Nick scowled at her. Plainly, he was not in a teasing mood. “I should have thrown that jerk over the railing.”
    â€œThat would have been littering.” Staring into the shadows, she smiled wistfully. “Though I do seem to recall an incident with Roger and a trash can when I was thirteen.”
    â€œOne of my fondest memories,” he said dryly, then leaned against the railing beside her.
    â€œMine, too.” Sounds drifted up from the party—people laughing, a slow, lost-love number from the band. “Do you remember why you dumped him in that trash can?”
    â€œKnowing Roger, it could be any one of a hundred reasons.”
    â€œYou did it because of me.”
    He lifted his head, stared at her. “Yeah?”
    â€œYeah. We were in the lunch court. Roger had been making fun of me, then he grabbed my sandwich and threw it away. That’s when you dumped him in the trash can.”
    Nick frowned at the memory. “I’d wanted to punch his lights out, but Lucas and Ian talked me out of it.” He touched her cheek, slid his finger lightly over her jaw. “So that was you, was it?”
    She nodded slowly, mesmerized by the gentle touch of his fingertip on her skin. “I remember every detail, even what you were wearing. White T-shirt, faded blue jeans and a worn, black leather jacket. The look in your eyes was fierce, a little frightening, but wonderfully exciting at the same time.”
    She realized he was looking at her like that right
now, and she felt the same way she had fifteen years ago. Frightened, but wonderfully excited. Her skin tingled from his touch. That’s all it took from him, just a simple touch and he made her feel alive, made her want things she could never have.
    With a sigh, she leaned into him, lifted her face so she could look into his eyes. “No one had ever been a champion to quiet, plain little Maggie Smith. When the other kids cheered, for just that one moment I felt like a princess who’d been rescued by the black knight.” She smiled softly. “You were my hero, Nick Santos.”
    His eyes turned dark as the shadows surrounding them, and he stared at her with an intensity that made her shiver. “Is that what the connection is with us, Maggie?” he asked quietly. “Is that why I feel as if there’s something between us, something that I should be remembering, but can’t quite pull out of the cobwebs?”
    She went still at his words, realized that she’d said too much, that she’d let herself get too close, not just physically, but emotionally. A dangerous, foolish thing to do. There was a connection far beyond that day, and she could never let him know what it was.
    She straightened and pushed herself away from the railing, from his touch. Where her skin had burned only a moment before, she