Married in Seattle

by Debbie Macomber

  “No!” He wasn’t listening to another word. The last time his sister had roped him into her schemes he’d met a crazy woman with an even crazier daughter. No more.

  “But Steve…”

  “You heard me.” The chair made a scraping sound against the tile floor as he stood. “I won’t be home for dinner.”

  Nancy stood, too. “When will you be back?”

  Steve regarded her suspiciously. “I don’t know. Why?”

  “Because the least you can do is meet Sandy.”

  Steve gritted his teeth. “You invited her to the house?”

  “Don’t worry—I didn’t mention you. I wanted the two of you to meet casually. She’s nervous about dating again, and I was afraid if I told her about my big, bad brother she’d run in the opposite direction.”

  “That’s what I’m going to do. If you want to work on anyone’s love life, you might try your own.”

  “All right, all right,” Nancy said, sounding defeated. “Just stay away from Meg, okay? The woman’s bad news.”

  Steve’s laugh was humorless. “You’re telling me?”

  A week passed. Steve refused to dwell on his confrontation with Meg. He didn’t call her and she didn’t phone him, either.

  He hated to end it all, but he didn’t see any other option.

  He missed her, though. He tried to tell himself otherwise. Tried to convince himself a man has his pride. Tried not to think about her.

  And failed.

  Early one afternoon, Nancy came by the shop with a friend. They were on their way to a movie, or so Nancy claimed.

  Nancy smiled a little-sister smile and cheerfully asked Steve if he’d give Sandy an estimate on repairing her fender.

  Sandy was petite. Cute. A little fragile.

  It didn’t take Steve long to figure out that this Sandy was the same one Nancy had wanted him to meet. The widow. The woman who’d save him from Meg’s clutches.

  “Pleased to meet you,” Steve said, wiping his greasy hands on the pink cloth he had tucked in his hip pocket.

  Nancy smiled innocently, looking pleased with herself.

  “I’ll have a written estimate for you by the time you two get back here.”

  “You don’t have to work late again, do you?” Nancy asked, not even attempting to be coy.

  Steve could already see what was coming. His conniving sister was about to wrangle a dinner invitation out of him. One that meant he’d be stuck entertaining Sandy.

  “I’m afraid I’m tied up this evening,” he said stiffly.

  “Oh, darn. I was hoping you could take Sandy and me to dinner.”

  “Sorry,” he said. “Now, if you’ll excuse me…”

  “It was a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Conlan.”

  “The pleasure was mine,” he said and turned away.

  Unfortunately, it didn’t end with Sandy. His sister had several other friends with dented fenders or cracked windshields. They all seemed to need estimates in the days that followed.

  “The next time a woman comes in and asks for me, I’m unavailable,” he told his crew. Steve made sure that on her next visit Nancy would know he didn’t have time for her matchmaking games. He told her as much when she stopped by—alone—a couple of days later.

  “I was only trying to help.”

  “Thanks, but no thanks.” He sat at his desk, making his way through the piles of paperwork stacked in front of him.

  Nancy expelled a sigh. “You aren’t seeing Meg again, are you?”

  His hand tightened around the pen. “That’s none of your business.”

  “Yes, it is! A woman like that could ruin your life.”

  In some ways she already had, but Nancy wouldn’t understand. Whenever he met another woman, Steve found himself comparing her to Meg. Invariably everyone else fell short. Far short. He was miserable without her.

  Nancy left, and Steve leaned back in his chair, studying the phone. All it would take was one call. He wouldn’t have to mention the incident with the police. He could even make a joke of it, maybe buy her a pair of flannel pajamas. The kind that went from her neck to her feet. They’d both laugh, say how sorry they were and put an end to this stalemate.

  Then he’d take her in his arms, hold her and kiss her. This was the part he dwelled on most. The reconciliation.

  “Steve.” Gary Wilcox stuck his head in the office door.

  Steve jerked his attention away from the phone.

  “There’s someone here to see you. A woman.”

  Impatience made Steve’s blood boil. “What did I say earlier? I gave specific instructions to tell any of my sister’s friends that I’m unavailable.”

  “But—”

  “Is that so hard to understand?”

  “Nope,” Gary said without emotion. “I don’t have a problem doing that, if it’s what you really want, but I kinda had the feeling this one’s special.”

  Knowing his foreman had cast an appreciative eye at the widow, Steve suspected it was Sandy who’d dropped by unannounced. “You talk to her.”

  “Me?”

  “Yeah, you.”

  “What am I supposed to say?”

  Steve rubbed a hand down his tired face. Did he have to do everything himself? “I don’t know, just say whatever seems appropriate. I promise you Nancy won’t be sending any more eligible women to the shop.”

  “Nancy didn’t send this one.”

  The pen slipped from Steve’s hands and rolled across the desk. “Who did?”

  “She didn’t say. All I got was her name. Meg Remington. I seem to recall hearing it mentioned a time or two—generally when you were upset.”

  Steve pushed back his chair and slowly stood. His heart reacted with a swift, furious pace. “Meg’s here?”

  “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you for the last five minutes.”

  Steve sank back into the chair. “Send her in.”

  A mischievous grin danced across Gary’s mouth. “That’s what I thought you’d say.”

  Steve stood, then sat back down and busied himself with things on his desk. He wanted Meg to think he was busy. The minute she walked into the room, he’d set everything aside.

  A full five minutes passed and still she didn’t show up. Steve came out of his office and ran into Gary, who frowned and shook his head. “She’s gone.”

  “Gone?”

  Gary nodded. “The only thing I can figure out is that she must’ve overheard you say you weren’t available and left.”

  Steve muttered a four-letter word and hurried out. He wasn’t sure where he’d find her, but he wasn’t going to let her walk out of his life.

  She wasn’t at the bookstore and he didn’t see her car at home. He tried the grocery store, too, for good measure. Without success.

  It wasn’t until nearly seven that he drove to her house again. That he was willing to confront her daughter was a sign of how desperate he’d become.

  He stood on her front porch and rang the doorbell. Waiting for someone to answer, he buried his hands deep in his pockets. A preventive action, he realized, to keep from reaching for her the instant she appeared.

  “Just a minute,” he heard her call.

  Then the door opened and Meg was standing there.

  His gaze drifted over her. He’d planned to play it cool, casually mention that he was in the neighborhood and heard she’d stopped by the office. Their eyes met, held, and Steve forgot about hiding his feelings. She wore a pretty pale blue summer dress.

  “Hello, Steve.”

  “Hello.”

  The screen door stood between them.

  They continued to stare at each other.

  “Can I come in?” he asked. Pride be damned. It’d been cold comfort in the past two weeks. If he had to apologize, or grovel or beg forgiveness, then so be it. He wanted her back in his life.

  “Of course.” She unlatched the door and pushed it open.

  Steve stepped inside. He could barely breathe, never mind th
ink. Pulling her into his arms didn’t seem appropriate, but that was all he wanted to do.

  “Where’s Lindsey?” he managed to ask.

  Meg’s voice was breathy and uneven. “She’s out for the evening.”

  He needed to touch her. Reaching up, he cupped her cheek in his rough palm. Slowly, Meg closed her eyes and leaned her head into his hand.

  “I had to come here,” he whispered.

  “I’m so sorry. About everything.”

  “Me, too.”

  Unable to wait a second longer, Steve folded her in his arms and brought her mouth to his. Gentleness was beyond him, his hunger as great as any he’d ever known.

  Meg grabbed his shirt as if she needed an anchor, something to secure her during the wild, sensual storm. He backed her against the door.

  Meg gasped, and Steve moved a few inches away. With his hands framing her cheeks, he studied her beautiful face. Her shoulders were heaving, and he realized his own breathing was just as labored.

  He rubbed the pad of his thumb across her moist, swollen lips. The action was unhurried—an apology for his roughness, his eagerness.

  She moaned softly and he kissed her again. Gently. With restraint. Her arms were around his neck, and Steve had never tasted a sweeter kiss.

  “I was going to call,” he told her, burying his face in the slope of her neck. “A thousand times I told myself I’d call. Every minute apart from you was torture.”

  “I wanted to call you, too.”

  “I’m glad….”

  “You were right,” Meg confessed. “I should’ve been wearing something more…discreet.”

  “I was jealous, pure and simple.” He felt her smile against the side of his face and smiled, too.

  “I would’ve been jealous if the situation had been reversed.”

  “Don’t worry. I didn’t date a single one of the women Nancy arranged for me to meet.”

  Meg jerked back. “What women?”

  “Ah…it’s not important.”

  “It is to me.”

  He knew it would’ve been to him, as well, so he explained. “Nancy felt it was necessary to save me from a loose woman, so she introduced me to some of her friends.”

  “And you refused to go out with them.” Meg sounded pleased.

  “All I want to do is talk to Lindsey. Get things straightened out.”

  “Me, too. But we can’t right now.”

  “So I see.”

  “Hold me,” she said, nestling in his arms. “I don’t want you to leave for a long, long time.”

  Steve planted tiny kisses along the side of her neck, marking his way back to her lips. “When will Lindsey be back?” he whispered.

  “She’s spending the night at Brenda’s.”

  His hold tightened. “Meg,” he said, then kissed her with a hunger he couldn’t deny. “I want to make love to you. There’s a lot we have to discuss before we make that kind of commitment, but we have an opportunity to do that now, don’t we?”

  “Mmm.”

  He kissed her again, pacing himself. “Thank God you dropped in at the office. I don’t know how long it would’ve taken me to come to my senses otherwise.”

  “The office?” Meg repeated, breaking away from him. “I was never at your office.”

  Seven

  “It doesn’t matter if you were at my office or not,” Steve said, kissing Meg again. Slowly. Thoroughly.

  She couldn’t manage even a token resistance, although her mind whirled with questions.

  She was starved for the taste of him. Starved for his touch. Starved for him. The loneliness had been suffocating. Before she’d met Steve, her life had seemed just fine. Then within a matter of weeks she’d realized how empty everything was without him.

  “I’ve missed you so much,” she told him between deep kisses.

  “Me, too.”

  “You should’ve phoned,” she whispered.

  “You, too.”

  “I know.”

  “I’m crazy about you.”

  She was so tempted to throw caution to the wind and make love with this man who excited her so much. Who made her feel alive.

  If ever the moment was right it was now, with Lindsey gone until morning.

  But…

  The questions returned. There’d only been one man in her life, her ex-husband, Lindsey’s father, and by the time they’d divorced Meg had felt like a failure as a wife. Inadequate. Unresponsive.

  “Steve…Steve.” Her fingers were in Steve’s hair as his mouth roamed over her throat. “Stop, please.”

  He went still, his lips pressed against the hollow of her throat. “You want me to stop? Now?”

  “Please…for just a minute. Did you say you thought I’d been to your office?” She wanted that confusion cleared up first.

  “It’s what Gary told me.” He raised his head, eyes clouded with passion. “It doesn’t matter—I’m here now. I’ve missed you so much. I can’t believe either of us let this go on so long.”

  “But it does matter,” she argued. “Because I wasn’t there.”

  Steve shut his eyes and seemed to be fighting something in himself. Finally, he straightened and eased away from her.

  “I’m glad you’re here,” she whispered. “I’ve missed you, too. It’s just that before we…” She felt as though her face was on fire. How she wished she was more experienced, more sophisticated. “You know.”

  “Make love,” he finished for her.

  “Yes…We should come to some sort of understanding. It’s like you said—we should talk first.”

  Steve took her by the hand. He led her into the living room and chose the big overstuffed chair that was her favorite.

  He sat and, reaching up, pulled her onto his lap. “So let’s talk.”

  “Okay,” she said, hating the way her voice trembled.

  “First I want to clear something up. You say you didn’t stop by my office this afternoon?”

  “No. I was at the store until after six.”

  “I didn’t see you there.”

  “I was in the back room, processing orders.” Because she was afraid he’d think she was lying in order to save face, she added, “You can check with Laura if you want.”

  Steve frowned. “I believe you. Why wouldn’t I?” He studied her. “But that isn’t why you stopped us just now, is it?”

  Meg lowered her gaze. “No,” she whispered.

  “I didn’t think so. Are you going to tell me?”

  “Tell you what?” Steve’s arm went around her waist. It felt good to be this close to him.

  “I suspect your reluctance has to do with your marriage.”

  “My marriage?”

  “It doesn’t take a detective to figure out that your ex-husband hurt you badly.”

  “No divorce is easy,” Meg admitted, “but I’m not an emotional cripple, if that’s what you mean.”

  “It isn’t.” He drew her even closer and kissed her again. She kissed him back, offering him her heart, her soul, her body…

  “I can’t seem to keep my hands off you,” he murmured. “I wanted to talk to you about your marriage. Instead, I’m a second away from ravishing you.”

  And she was a second away from letting him.

  “It was a friendly divorce,” Meg insisted, returning to the subject he’d introduced. It wasn’t a comfortable one—but it was safer than touching and kissing and where that would lead.

  Steve eyed her suspiciously. “How friendly?” he asked.

  “We parted amicably. It was a mutual decision.”

  “What caused the divorce?”

  Meg closed her eyes and sighed. “He had a girlfriend,” she said, trying not to reveal her bitterness. For years she’d kept the feelings of hurt and betrayal buried deep.

  In the beginning, that had been for Lindsey’s sake. Later, she was afraid to face the anger for fear of what it would do to her. “Dave didn’t love me anymore,” she said, in an unemotional voice. As if it didn�
��t matter. As if it had never mattered.

  “What about Lindsey? He abandoned her, too?”

  “He knew I’d always be there for her, and I will. He lives in California now.”

  “What about his commitment to you and his daughter? That wasn’t important to him?”

  “I don’t know—you’d need to ask Dave about that.”

  “How long did this business with the girlfriend go on before he told you about her?”

  “I don’t know,” she said again. She had her suspicions, plenty of them, but none she was willing to discuss with Steve. “I do know that when Dave got around to telling me he wanted a divorce, she was pregnant.”

  “In other words, you felt there was nothing you could do but step aside?”

  “I had no problem doing that.” Maybe if she’d loved Dave more, she would’ve been willing to fight for him. But by the time Dave told her about Brittany, she wanted out of the marriage. Just plain out.

  “So you got divorced.”

  “Yes, with no fuss at all. He gave me what I wanted.”

  “And what was that?”

  “He was willing to let me raise Lindsey.” She shook her head. “It’s not what you’re thinking.”

  “And what am I thinking?”

  She placed the back of her hand against her forehead and gave him a forlorn look, like the heroine of a silent movie. “That the divorce traumatized me.”

  “I wasn’t thinking that at all,” he assured her. “Your marriage had already taken care of that.”

  Meg dropped her hand, then raised it again to brush away her tears. How well Steve understood.

  “It wasn’t enough that your husband had an affair. When he walked out on you and Lindsey, he made sure you blamed yourself for his infidelity, didn’t he?” She didn’t respond, and he asked her a second time, his voice gentle. “Didn’t he?”

  Meg jerked her head away for fear he’d read the truth in her eyes. “It’s over now…. It was all a long time ago.”

  “But it isn’t over. If it was, we’d be upstairs making love instead of sitting here talking. You haven’t been able to trust another man since Dave.”

  “No,” she whispered, her head lowered.

  “Oh, baby,” he said tenderly, gathering her in his arms. “I’m so sorry.”