When Justice’s step faltered, Maggie frowned. “Are you okay?”
He gritted his teeth. “I’m fine.”
“We don’t have to dance, Justice.”
He hissed out a breath. “I said I’m fine, Maggie. The leg aches a little. That’s all.”
“I’m just concerned.”
“You don’t have to be, damn it,” he ground out, then clamped his lips tightly together for a second before saying, “I don’t need you to worry about me, all right? Can we just dance?”
But the magic of the moment was ruined for Maggie. I don’t need you. His words repeated over and over again in her mind. “That’s the problem, Justice,” she blurted while still following his lead around the floor.
“What?” He was frowning again now, and damned if that expression didn’t make him look more sexy. More dangerous.
“You don’t need me.”
“I said I don’t need you to worry about me—there’s a difference.”
“No,” she insisted, staring up at him as they made another turn. “There isn’t. I need you. I always have.”
“That’s good, because—”
“No,” she interrupted him, uncaring about the people surrounding them on the floor. They probably couldn’t overhear the conversation over the music, but even if they could, that wouldn’t have stopped her. “It isn’t good, Justice. It’s the reason I can’t be with you.”
“You are with me.”
His hand tightened around hers and his eyes narrowed into slits. Maggie shook her head at his fierce expression. “Not for much longer. Yes, I need you, but I can’t be with you, because I want to be needed, too.”
“What the hell does that mean?” he demanded, holding her closer, as if half afraid she was going to bolt. “Of course I need you.”
She laughed shortly, but there was no humor in it, only misery. “No, you don’t. You wouldn’t even let me help you a second ago when your leg hurt.”
“That’s different, Maggie. I don’t need a therapist.”
“No,” she said, her temper building, frothing, despite the fact that she was in the middle of a crowd that was slowly beginning to take notice. “You don’t want to need anyone. You won’t admit that you can’t do everything yourself. It’s your pride, Justice. It always comes down to your pride.”
Justice’s voice was low and tight. There were too many damn people around them. Too many who might be listening in. “My pride helped me build the ranch into one of the biggest in the country. My pride got me through when you walked out.”
“Your pride is the reason I walked out, remember?”
“You’re not walking this time,” he told her, his grip on her hand and around her waist making that point clear. “This time we have to be together.”
“Why?”
“Because I got a text from Sean at the lab. The results of the test are in. I’m Jonas’s father.”
Both of her eyebrows arched high on her forehead as she tried to pull free from his grasp. “If you’re waiting for me to be surprised, don’t bother.”
“I know. I should have listened. I should have believed.”
“Yes, you should have.”
He felt as if a two-thousand-pound rock had been lifted off his shoulders. He felt change in the air, and it damn near made him laugh with the possibilities of it all. “Don’t you get it, Maggie? This changes everything. I’m his father. That means the doctor was wrong. I can give you children.”
“I already knew that, Justice,” she said, glancing to the side as another couple moved in close.
“Which is why we’re getting married,” he said, the decision made and delivered like an order.
“Excuse me?” She stopped dancing, dragging him to a sudden halt.
“I said we’re getting married.”
Maggie frowned at someone who jostled her, then turned to him and announced, “I can’t marry you. I’m already married.”
“You’re married?” Justice stared at her as if she were speaking Greek. “What do you mean you’re married? We’ve been sleeping together!”
Several heads turned toward them now, and Justice scowled at the most obvious eavesdroppers, shaming them into looking away.
Maggie flushed right up to the roots of her hair, but it was fury, not embarrassment, staining her cheeks. “I’m married to you, Justice!”
She spun around on her heel and pushed her way through the crowd. Justice was left staring after her, stunned by her declaration and furious that he hadn’t known about this before. He started after her, his steps long and sure. When he caught up with her, he grabbed her arm, turned her to face him and, ignoring the crowd, said, “I signed those divorce papers, Maggie! How the hell are we married?”
“I never filed them, you big jerk.” And once again, she pulled free and made her way to the exit. Justice was right behind her, ignoring the wild rustle of conversations and laughter filling the hall behind him.
No doubt people would be talking about this night for a damn long time, he told himself while he took off after Maggie. Mostly, he suspected they’d be calling him a fool, and he’d have to agree.
He and Maggie were still married and he hadn’t even known it. When he reached the front door, he raced outside and spotted Maggie walking with furious steps down the sidewalk in the direction of home. Racing for the parking lot, Justice found his car, started it up and chased down his errant wife.
Driving alongside her while she was muttering to herself and bristling with unleashed fury, he rolled down the passenger window and ordered, “Get in the car, Maggie.”
“I don’t need you, Justice.” She made sure of the emphasis on the word need, and flipped her hair back behind her shoulders. “I’ll walk.”
“You can’t walk it.”
“Watch me.”
“It’s ten miles to the ranch.”
She slowed a little, shot him a furious glare and said, “If I get in that car, don’t you dare speak to me.”
“We have to talk about this, Maggie.”
“No, we don’t. We’ve said plenty. In front of the whole town, no less. So if you can’t promise me silence, I’ll walk.”
“You’re freezing.”
“I’m too mad to be cold.”