Free McCallum Quintuplets by Kasey Michaels Page B

“That’s it, keep limping. You’ll get there. We’ll go home, I’ll make you some real coffee and then I’ll massage your feet. Does that sound like a plan?”
    It would have, about eight hours ago. But a lot had happened tonight, and the idea of lounging on Ian’s couch, her legs in his lap, his hands stroking her feet? Ian maybe opening his mouth and wanting to talk about just what had happened—or almost happened—on that same couch a little earlier?
    â€œI—I probably should try to get some sleep. I’m off tomorrow, but I’ll want to go in, see Maggie one more time if Zach is going to be sending her home. I have some photocopied articles in my office on multiples pregnancies that she might want to read.”
    â€œSo no coffee? No Russell special foot rub?”
    Madeline bowed her head. “Not tonight, Ian. But thank you. Really. Thank you.” She touched the diamond bracelet. “For everything.”
    â€œFor everything? Don’t mention it. I mean it. Please, don’t mention it.”
    The car moved through the dark, nearly deserted streets, passing beneath street lamps so that Madeline, when she dared to look at him, could see the tic working in Ian’s cheek.
    This wasn’t going to work. They either had to talk about tonight, or she’d have to never talk to him again. It was definitely an either-or situation, a really important either-or situation.
    â€œIan?”
    He braked at a red light, turned to look at her. “Maddie,” he responded tightly.
    â€œWhat…what happened tonight. I guess, that is, I know we have to talk about it.”
    He tapped his fingers against the steering wheel. “Gee, that sounds about as welcome as having a root canal. Was it that bad?”
    â€œNo. No! It was wonder—that is, oh, Ian, would you look at us? This is ridiculous. We can’t even talk to each other. When have we not been able to talk about anything?”
    The light turned green, and Ian concentrated once more on his driving. “Never,” he said after a few moments. “We’ve never not been able to talk to each other. About anything. Okay? Does that answer your question?”
    â€œIt would have, up until tonight,” Madeline told him, keeping her head front even as she kept watching him out of the corner of her eye. “And, if we’re ever going to be able to talk to each other again, I think we have to talk about this.”
    â€œNo, we don’t.”
    â€œDon’t, Ian, or won’t? Which is it?”
    Ian sighed as he turned into the apartment complex,eased into his assigned parking space. He turned off the ignition, pulled out the key and looked at Madeline. “Nothing’s changed, Maddie. We’re still friends. I just kissed you, that’s all.”
    â€œOh, really? Kissed me? Excuse me, but I think I remember having to rehook my bra.”
    â€œOkay, that, too,” he said as they both got out of the car, headed toward their building. “We had a moment, Maddie. Your birthday, the wine, that outfit—your eyes. I don’t know. It was a moment. Can’t we let it go at that? Do we have to psychoanalyze it?”
    â€œYes,” Madeline said as he held open the door for her and she entered the building ahead of him. “I think we do have to psychoanalyze it. And you know why? Because we’re friends, Ian. We’ve been friends for fifteen years, and I don’t want to lose that.”
    I don’t want to lose it because your friendship is all I’ve got of you, all I could ever hope to have of you, and I figured that out years ago. That’s what she would have said, if she hadn’t quickly bitten her bottom lip until she got a firmer grip on her emotions.
    She dug in her purse for her apartment key as they headed down the hallway, but Ian grabbed her elbow, steered her toward his door. “Okay, now we talk. How in hell are