Hot Silver Nights: Silver Fox Romance Collection

by Ainsley Booth

  “Bad timing?”

  “You said you kept Vincent-at-work at bay last week when you were both away.” Meghan’s face twisted. She’d have kept him at bay whether Lance had been in the picture or not. “I’ll be keeping Vincent-at-work at bay for the foreseeable future.” Because, for the foreseeable future, and despite what Arla told her, and how hard she tried, it wasn’t going to be easy getting Lance Turner out of her head.

  “You might not have to wait that long,” said Arla. “I think we might have company.” She instinctively raised a hand to her hair, brushing her hair back from her face and tucking it behind the ears on one side. Meghan didn’t even look up but saw her friend smiling at something behind her. “Can you not make that face,” she pleaded, turning around. Two men, a few tables away, were looking in their direction.

  “What face?” asked Arla, making the face that Meghan now knew to be part of her routine; a pout which looked like a fish struggling for air. “That face,” said Meghan.

  “It’s exactly the kind of attention you need,”Arla insisted.

  “I’d rather go home.”

  “We’re not going home,” Arla said firmly. “You need to take your mind off Cheating Turner and this is how we’re going to do it.” Meghan’s phone rang again and it was Lance, again. Her fingers hovered over it until Arla reached over and pressed the red button, ending the call.

  “Don’t fall for his bullshit again, Meg.”

  Chapter 27

  His chest constricted and he struggled to take in air. He knew what Vivian was up to and getting her hooks out of his back was going to be the bane of his life. But for Cassie’s sake he was prepared to put up with her crap.

  It had been only moments since Cassie and Vivian had gone and he was left standing around staring at the emptiness around him. He’d tried calling Meghan but she’d let it go to voicemail. Refusing to give in, he’d tried again but this last time she’d ended the call. It was obvious what she thought, and it was up to him to put it right.

  He’d left Meghan Summers once before, and while it was true that he’d never intended to go looking for her, the fact that they had been thrown together again was enough for him. He couldn’t accept that this was it.

  He called her again, and this time she answered. “Don’t hang up,” he said quickly, knowing that if she’d wanted to be left alone, she’d have turned her phone off.

  “I don’t want to hear from you again.”

  “I need to talk to you, Meg. Please.” It was loud where she was and it sounded as if she was in a busy place; he could hear people laughing and talking in the background and the sound of music playing. She’d rebounded fast.

  “Talk about what? Your wife? Your daughter? Or did you want to show me pictures of you all on vacation?”

  “Where are you?” He wasn’t about to explain anything on the phone.

  “Somewhere nice.” She was cool and yet oddly happy. “On a date,” she said, and he heard laughter in the background.

  “We had a date.”

  “We did,” she said, sounding blasé. “But that was before I found out about your cheating ways. Your poor wife. How could you do this?”

  “I can explain.”

  “I bet you always do, I bet you have a foolproof reason, but I’m not buying the bullshit anymore.”

  “When have I ever fed you bullshit?”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” she said, airily. “Where should I start?”

  “Why don’t you start at the beginning?” he suggested, snatching the opportunity to keep the conversation going.

  “At the beginning,” she said, “You mean when you pretended to be concerned about my grades? When I look back on it now, I wonder.”

  “Wonder what?” What did she mean? He’d been there for her, had been genuinely concerned about her, had gotten to know and had, against his better judgement, started to care. He was the one who’d made sure nothing had happened that night she came knocking at his door. “I wonder what your motive really was.”

  She had to be kidding. He swallowed hard. “I know how it looked, earlier today, when Vivian turned—”

  “No more bullshit, Mr. Turner,” she said, smoothly. “Let me ask you one thing.”

  He was ready to answer any question she had. “Anything.”

  “Are you married?”

  “I’m—”

  “Are you married? A simple yes or no will do.”

  He paused.

  “Yes, but—”

  “Yes, but?” Her tone was abrasive but he wasn’t giving up so easily.

  “You need to hear me out. I was going to tell you tonight. I’m not in a relationship, Meghan, I didn’t think I needed to explain—”

  More raucous laughter followed. He thought he heard her hiss at someone.

  “Please don’t call me again.”

  This couldn’t be it. “Please give me a chance to explain.”

  “No more chances. You have a pattern, is what you have,” she said. “We have this thing, I fall for you, and then you leave and you—”

  Fall for him? She did feel something, the same way that he did. This second chance was too big for him to give up on. “Meg—”

  “No more Meg.”

  “No more Meg!” A man’s voice, loud against a backdrop of laughter, taunted him.

  “Will you be quiet?” he thought he heard her say to someone.

  “Who are you talking to?” he asked.

  “I told you—I’m on a date.”

  “LuLu’s cocktails are the best!” A woman yelled in the background.

  “Don’t do this, Meg,” he said.

  “Goodbye, Lance.”

  Chapter 28

  A decade ago, when she’d only been a blip on his radar, he’d been unable to do anything about Meghan Summers. She’d been a schoolgirl he’d been concerned about and even when the warning bells had sounded loud and clear in his head, he had stepped away, and let it go.

  But this time around he would do no such thing. This time around there was more at stake. This time around she meant more to him.

  And this time around he wasn’t going to mess up.

  He parked outside LuLu’s; he knew the bar. It was a popular one with students. As darkness fell around him, he peered through the windows and tried to seek her out. At first he saw the shimmering hanging lampshades and a kaleidoscope of people. The place was busy for Sunday, but not packed like a Saturday night.

  She wasn’t going to like it when he turned up but he wasn’t going to leave until he’d had his say.

  As soon as he stepped inside, the heat hit him first, warm and sweet, and then the noise; the chatter and low rumbling of laughter. He scanned around the large open bar, scouting around the room in search of Meghan. Within less than a minute he located her, with almost GPS precision. It was as if he were programmed into her frequency.

  Bracing himself, he walked towards where she sat. Another woman and two men hovered around with beer bottles in their hands. “Meghan,” he said, tapping her gently on the shoulder. She lifted her head, recognition and surprise flickering in her eyes before her lips formed into a thin line. He didn’t need to say a word, but he could tell that she was mad. “Can we talk, please?” It sounded like a weak request, and he felt immediately outnumbered, sensing hostility around him.

  “Hey,” a rough tap on his shoulder made him glance to the side. “Hey, buddy, you’re interrupting something here.”

  “I’ll be gone, as soon as I’ve had my say.”

  He turned back to her and the table fell silent. “What are you doing here?” She demanded. “Did you follow me?” She’d always been such a meek and gentle girl at school and it surprised him, to see this anger from her.

  “No.” He was taken aback by her accusation. “Please, Meghan.”

  “Why don’t you get lost, buddy? Can’t you see she’s not interested?” The man behind him poked his hard finger straight into Lance’s shoulder causing the pain to shoot through him lik
e a spear. The idiot had poked him near where he’d been shot. “Don’t fucking touch me again,” Lance growled.

  “Don’t you go pushing me about, buddy,” the man said, and then recognition seemed to dawn on the man’s face. “You’re the…the…” He turned to his friend. “He’s that guy, the college teacher in that shooting.”

  Lance ignored him and pleaded with Meghan. “Give me five minutes of your time. That’s all I’m asking for. Please,” he begged.

  She seemed embarrassed. “I wish you would go away.”

  “I’m not going anywhere until you hear me out.”

  “Look, buddy. I don’t care if you’re a hero, and I don’t care what you did, but this lady doesn’t look like she wants to speak to you, so why don’t you back off there, buddy.”

  He balled his hands together. “And why don’t you mind your business?” Lance returned. She was on a date with this guy? The man put down his beer bottle, his nostrils flaring and pushed Lance, once again smacking him in his injured shoulder.

  He was sorely tempted to punch him back but knew he couldn’t lose his cool, no matter how much it pissed him off that the guy was on a date with Meghan. She hadn’t wasted her evening after all.

  “Stop!” Meghan cried out.

  “Why don’t you guys grow up and stop manhandling one another?” her friend said, pushing herself between them. Lance stared at the short, plump little woman. “Meghan,” he said, desperate for her to hear his side of things. In a pathetic last effort. “I’m in the middle of a divorce. I was going to tell you everything tonight.”

  “You expect me to believe that?”

  “It’s true.”

  “I can’t let you keep doing this to me, over and over again.”

  Over and over again? “What do you mean?”

  “Do you know what you did to me the first time you left and you never ever got in touch with me again? I thought I’d never recover. You can’t keep doing that to me, I won’t let you.”

  “I never did anything to you. I’m getting divorced. I’m not a cheat. And if you think I did the wrong thing by keeping my past from you, I’m sorry.”

  “Why don’t you piss off?” It was the same Neanderthal who had poked him.

  Lance turned around and forced himself to resist the urge to hit him, even though that big, ugly face was asking for it. “Why don’t you go and sink back into the swamp you crawled out from?”

  “If you really want to help me,” said Meghan, her eyes round and fearful, “you should leave.” He surveyed the environment. It was obvious they’d attracted attention. People were bending their heads close together and whispering.

  “Sir, we’d like you to leave,” a man, dressed in a suit told him. Since when did they have bouncers at a place like this?

  His face contorted. He shoved his hands into his pockets, gave Meghan one final parting look, and left. He had tried and he had failed and there was nothing else he could do.

  Chapter 29

  “I think we need more drinks,” drawled the tall guy with a giraffe-like neck. “What do you think?” he asked, directing his question to Meghan.

  “We’re not staying long,” said Arla, but he ignored her. The two men they’d asked to join them, against Meghan’s wishes, were mainly interested in her friend. Arla wasn’t stupid, this was how it had always been. But right now she wished that they would swiftly disappear so that she could talk some sense into her friend and erase all memories of Lance Turner from her brain.

  “Another round?” Giraffe-Neck asked, winking at his broad shouldered friend. The man was built like an army tank. As he disappeared, Arla noticed that Meghan was sitting quietly, a dangerous sign, given the circumstances. “What are you thinking about?” she asked.

  “Lance, and what he said.”

  “Do you actually believe anything he said?” Arla asked, incredulous. Meghan could be pretty stupid. If love was blind, her friend was blind and stupid.

  “I’m not sure,” Meghan replied, weakly.

  “Girlfriend, you need to wise up and stop falling for everything that man says to you.”

  “But I didn’t really give him a chance to explain anything.”

  “I don’t believe this.” Arla narrowed her eyes in fury. She was so furious that she downed her cocktail in gulp.

  “Why did his wife come back to his place?” Meghan asked her, snagging her attention again.

  “Are you really analyzing the situation?” If Meghan wasn’t careful, she was going to end up falling for Turner’s words all over again.

  “I’m trying to make sense of it,” Meghan argued.

  “Let me make sense of it for you,” said Arla. “He’s cheating, and he’s lying, and you’re a fool.” Meghan sat with her shoulders hunched over, a perfect picture of misery but before either of them had a chance to say anything, a new round of drinks appeared.

  “How do you guys know that jerk?” Army Tank guy asked just as his friend reappeared with a new round of drinks. “Long story,” replied Arla. “Thanks, guys.” She raised her glass. “Drink up,” she told Meghan. These two were going to get pissed if she and Meghan upped and left quickly. At the very least they’d have to buy them a round of drinks to even the score. Meghan was lost in her own little world, not noticing much of what was going on around her, but Arla could see that the big, squat guy was interested in her.

  “I can help you forget him,” he said, smoothing his hand over Meghan’s.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” Meghan shot back at him, visibly irate. Ignoring him, she turned to Arla. “It makes sense, don’t you see?” she insisted. “I believe him when he said he moved here recently. I think he’s moved out. He still had boxes lying around. And why would they return home to get something his daughter had left behind? She wouldn’t do that if they all lived together, would she?”

  Arla lowered her chin to her chest and inhaled. This was what she’d been hoping to avoid, having this discussion in front of their interested guests. Meghan had the propensity to concoct alternative facts, when really, she needed to see the truth, and the truth as far as Arla was concerned, was that Lance Turner was up to no good. “She might have been taking her daughter for a sleepover at Grandma’s because of some-other-reason-that-I-can’t-think-of-right-now. Grandma might have had surgery and come home and they went to visit her. Who knows?” She threw her hands into the air in exasperation. “The woman said she was his wife, Meghan! That’s what you told me. You heard her!” Arla’s nostrils flared. “You’ve got to stop this, and you’ve going to stop it now. Otherwise he’s going to end up hurting you all over again. Why can’t you trust your instinct?”

  “I am trusting my instinct. He said he’d recently moved to the area and he had a new job at the university. There were no photos up in his house, nothing. No evidence of children’s toys or anything.”

  “That’s because they’d recently moved to the area and into the new house. It takes people a while to settle into a new place. You’re trying to make things fit when the truth is plain to see.”

  “I am not,” Meghan insisted. “I’m giving him the benefit of the doubt.” Arla slapped her hand to her forehead. And this, after what she’d told her—about seeing him yesterday at the sports center, kissing another woman, and with the young girl in tow? Unbelievable. “No, sweetie,” said Arla, shaking her head. “You’re trying to fix it. What I saw yesterday was a man out with his family and spending a normal Saturday taking his daughter to swimming lessons. That’s not the picture of a couple who have divorced.”

  Meghan had that look on her face, as if she wanted to believe what she wanted to believe whether it made sense or not. Arla wasn’t prepared to stand by and let her friend make a fool of herself again. Lance Turner was good-looking, and he had always been the hottest teacher in high-school, but this ridiculous obsession her friend had with that man had to stop.

  “The guy’s a jerk,” Giraffe-Neck snorted.

  “Sounds like it,” his friend s
aid.

  “Where are you going?” Arla placed her hand over Meghan’s as she hopped off her bar stool. “Yeah, what do you think you’re doing?” Army Tank guy blocked Meghan’s way.

  “Could you please move?” Meghan asked.

  “Your friend thinks you’re making a mistake,” the man replied, grinning.

  “Please move,” Meghan repeated.

  “I think you’re making a mistake.”

  “I don’t care what you think,” Meghan snapped. The friendly joking had turned serious and the air grew taut with friction. Arla clenched her jaw, sensing the animosity oozing from the man. He seemed suddenly defensive, suddenly pissed off about Meghan and it wasn’t any of his business. He barely knew her. But guys always went crazy, stupid head over heels for her friend and all Arla could do was watch and wonder if anyone would ever be that passionate about her.

  “You can’t go home yet,” Giraffe Neck said, “We’ve only just got a round of drinks.”

  “What’s a nice looking chick like you doing with a dumbass?” his friend asked. “Or do you have the hots for him because he’s a big hot shot?”

  “I need to leave,” Meghan insisted, brushing the big guy’s hand away and attempting to walk around him. The man grabbed her hand. “I’m a big hot shot. I’m a really big hot shot.”

  “Let go of my hand!” Meghan yelled.

  “She said let go of her hand, asshole.” A man’s voice, loud, and authoritative, came from behind her. Before Arla could turn to see who said it, she saw a fist land on Army Tank guy’s face. She heard the sound, flat and dull, and saw the man fall backwards. Then she saw Lance Turner.

  “You crazy fuck!” The man shouted, managing to regain his balance. He charged towards Lance like an angry bull. Lance stumbled backwards, crashing into the table behind. The two men, like vicious pit bulls, were locked together, each trying to fight free and land another punch. Within seconds, burly bouncers appeared and broke the fight up.