by Carrie Elks
Her mom’s smile dissolved. “Is there a problem?”
“No problem.” Meghan touched Isla’s shoulder gently. “Why don’t you go play with your iPad in the living room. I’ll speak with Granny and Gramps in the kitchen.”
“Sure.” Isla was clutching the tablet like somebody might steal it from her. It was funny how attached she already was to it.
Meghan’s father was in the yard, tending to his roses. Her mom called out to him from the kitchen and he looked up, his brows knitting when he saw Meghan standing there. Her mom was wringing her fingers, as though she was anticipating the worst.
It took Meghan a moment to realize why she seemed so edgy. The last time she’d dropped in without notice was when she’d told them she was pregnant with Isla. They hadn’t spoken for months after that.
Her dad walked into the kitchen and scrubbed his hands clean, drying them on a towel before turning to look at Meghan. “Is everything okay?” he asked, shooting a strange glance at his wife. She shrugged and pressed her lips together.
“Everything’s fine. I just need to let you guys know something. We’re on our way home from L.A. and I thought it would be better to tell you face to face.”
Her parents shared another glance. “I guess we’d better sit down,” her dad said, pointing at the kitchen table.
Her mom carried three glasses of cool lemonade over, passing them out. She was silent as she sat down, and she looked at her husband with a wary eye.
“So what’s this about?” he asked Meghan.
“Isla’s father came to see us last weekend. We’ve been in L.A. with them this week. He wants to be part of her life.”
“I’m sorry, what?” Her dad leaned forward, his brows raised.
Her parents listened as she explained the events of the last few days, leaving out any mention of Rich and their mess of a relationship. She explained who Dylan was, knowing she’d never quite given them the whole story eight years ago.
“He’s a drummer?” her dad asked, shaking his head. “And all this time he ignored you.”
“What does this mean for you and Richard?” her mom asked. “How does he feel about another man in Isla’s life.”
“Dylan is Isla’s father, not just another man. And Rich and I are taking a break.” Meghan exhaled softly. It was the understatement of the year.
“I don’t like the sound of this drummer,” her dad said. “Or of you and Isla in L.A.. Do you know the things that go on there?”
“We were mostly at his house. And nothing went on. He’s in his thirties, and engaged to be married. His fiancée was lovely to us both.”
“His fiancée?” Her mother’s voice lifted. “He’s engaged to another woman?”
“Yes.” Meghan kept her voice low, aware that Isla was only a room away. “And she’s very kind. They’re a nice couple and I know they already love Isla a lot.”
“What if he tries to get custody?” her mom asked, clutching her blouse. “And takes Isla to live with him.”
“He won’t. We’ve already agreed to a plan. His life is too unpredictable for him to have a child in his care full time.” And Dylan didn’t have much experience with kids, but he knew enough that it was better for Isla to have calm and order in her life. “He just wants to be her dad. To be part of her life. I think that’s wonderful for Isla.”
“I don’t know.” Her dad shook his head. “This is all too sudden. You should have called us before you went off with him. We could have talked to him with you. Did you sign anything?”
“Not yet. And before I do, I’ll have my own lawyer look over it.” Meghan took a sip of lemonade, cooly surveying her parents over the rim. “I don’t need your help to sort this out. I’m an adult, and I know what’s best for Isla.”
Her mom blinked.
“It won’t change anything for you,” Meghan added. “Isla still loves you, she still wants to stay with you every now and again. But now she has even more people loving her. That can’t be a bad thing, can it?”
“I don’t know…” Her mom shook her head. “It’s all so sudden.”
“Well, Dylan’s headed to Europe now, so nothing will change for a while. You’ll have a chance to get used to it.”
“Can we meet this man when he’s back home?” her dad asked.
“Yeah. You’ll be seeing a lot of him, I imagine.” At birthday parties, school shows, and then one day at graduations and weddings. Meghan’s stomach contracted as she thought about that. Each day Isla was growing up, and one day she’d leave home to start living her own life.
It was a bittersweet thought.
“Yes, time. That’s what we need.” Her dad nodded. He looked older than she’d noticed in a while. Smaller, too.
Maybe he wasn’t shrinking. Maybe she was growing. Not in size – she’d stopped at five-feet-three back when she was sixteen – but in confidence. In the knowledge that she could do this alone, but that she didn’t need to.
She’d gone from being a single parent to having to share her child with others who loved her. She’d have to get used to it, too.
“We should go,” Meghan said, “and let you eat your dinner.” There was one more hurdle she needed to face. She was going to have to get used to living next door to Rich Martin without being part of his world. To see him without touching him.
Maybe that was the biggest hurdle of all.
Work, eat, sleep, repeat.
That was all he seemed to do nowadays. And it made him feel even more exhausted than ever.
But exhaustion was good. Exhaustion meant you didn’t have to think. Not about the mistakes you made in the past, or the ones he was still making.
He restarted hearts, mended broken bones, called for consults on blood test results. Then he trudged home and threw himself into bed only to do it all over again the next day.
But today was different. Today he could see that the envelope sticking out of Meghan’s mail box was gone, and that there was a sticky fingermark on the tenth floor button on the elevator. Like a kid had eaten ice cream and licked her fingers before pressing it.
A kid like Isla.
None of this is actually about Meghan. It’s about you and how scared you are of getting hurt again.
James’ words echoed in his mind, the way they had since their coffee break at the hospital.
Twice she’d tried to talk to him, and twice he’d pushed her away. She’d been a stronger, braver person than he could ever hope to be. The thought of it felt like a weight pushing down on him, making him walk slowly out of the elevator, and over to his apartment.
You push people away before they can leave you. But the end result is still the same. You’re still alone.
He was still alone. He’d never felt it so keenly as he was right now, looking at her door and knowing she was there. He wanted to knock on it, to throw himself at her mercy, to beg her to forgive him.
But it wasn’t enough. She deserved more than empty promises. She deserved somebody who’d fight himself for her. Who’d always put her and Isla first.
And he wasn’t that guy. Not yet. But he wanted to be, so much so it almost hurt.
The door to Grant and Kevin’s apartment opened, and Grant grinned at him, waving his purple cast like he was so damn happy to see him.
“Hey! We’re having a cookout at the pool this weekend. You’re coming, right?”
Rich blinked. “A cookout?”
“Yeah, on Saturday. It’s Kevin’s birthday and we thought what better excuse than that? Plus, we want to thank you and Meghan for all you did for Gloria while we were away.”
“I didn’t do much.”
“Apart from save her life.” Grant smiled. “And then check on her every day since. So it’ll be us, you, Gloria, Meghan and Isla, plus some friends from mine and Kevin’s work. We’ve booked some tables at the pool area, and a couple of the grills.”
“I’ll need to check my schedule.” The thought of being with Meghan and Isla made his heart ache.
And whose fault is that? He blinked, swallowing hard.
“But count me in, unless you hear otherwise.”
“Perfect.” Grant grinned. “I was hoping you can man one of the grills and Kevin can do the other. I’ll be hanging around looking pretty and maimed.” He waved his cast again.
“Sure.” Rich nodded. He looked over his shoulder at Meghan’s door, and ran his tongue along his dry lips. “So you’ve met Meghan and Isla then?”
“We have. It’s nice to even the sexes out a bit on this floor.” Grant lowered his voice. “It was getting a little too testosteroney for my liking.”
Rich nodded. There wasn’t anything else to say. Not that didn’t involve him begging Grant for more information on their neighbors. He wanted to know if they were okay. If Meghan was holding up. If she still hated him.
Of course she hates you. You’re an asshole.
“I’ll see you later,” Rich said, giving him a nod.
“On Saturday,” Grant reminded him. “Five o’clock. Don’t be late.”
He knew for a fact he wasn’t working. Sure, he could give some excuse for not being there. An appointment with Belle or an emergency at the hospital, but that would be stupid.
Meghan would be at the party. And he needed to see her.
Because he needed to find a way back into her life.
30
It was one of those Southern California summer days when the sun was beating down, baking the concrete and sand and everybody around it. The pool area was crowded – the die-hard swimming enthusiasts had been joined by the sunbathers, and even at just before five, there wasn’t a free lounger to be seen.
Rich blew out a mouthful of air as he walked toward the grill area, which lay between the pool and the parking lot. Tables were scattered between the grills, and half of them were already full. He could see Grant and Kevin at the far end, wearing matching llama t-shirts, each holding a bottle of beer.
“Rich!” Isla threw herself against him, curling her arms around his waist. “Where have you been? We’ve missed you.”
His chest tightened, as he hugged her. “I’ve missed you, too. How was L.A.?”
“It was amazing.” She looked up at him, her green eyes wide. “I have a new dad. Did you know that? He has a huge house and a pool and I learned how to dive. A real proper dive, not just tumbling in. You want to see?”
He glanced down at her dress. “Maybe later? I don’t think your mom would be happy if you got your clothes wet.”
Isla frowned. “No.” She was wearing the necklace he’d given her after her play, and it made his throat feel funny. “Maybe we can go swimming tomorrow?”
“If it’s okay with your mom, I’d like that,” he said gruffly. He looked up and saw Meghan watching them, her eyes wary. Her bottom lip was pulled between her teeth. She looked as nervous as he felt.
Isla skipped over to where Gloria was sitting with Grant’s mom, and now there was nobody standing between him and Meghan anymore.
With a determination that felt a little like fire in his stomach, he walked over to where she was standing, stopping a few feet short of her.
“Hi.” His voice was soft. “How are you?”
She gave him a half smile. “I’m okay. How about you?”
He ran his tongue over his bottom lip, deciding the full truth would be too much. “I’m okay, too.” And also the biggest asshole in the world. I’m going to make it up to you, when I figure out how. “Did your trip to L.A. go okay? Isla seems happy.”
“She and Dylan bonded really well.” Meghan shifted her feet. “He’s away now, but I’m in contact with his lawyer and we’re coming to a custody arrangement. And he wants his name on her birth certificate, so we’re working that out.”
The corners of his lips curled. “I’m glad.”
“You are?” She tipped her head to the side, her brows raised.
“Yeah. I really am. I care about you two, I want you to be happy.” It felt almost painful to say it, because he was the one who’d made her unhappy. Who’d walked away because it hurt too much to stay.
“Thank you,” she said softly. “That means a lot.” She pursed her lips as though she was blowing out air. “How’s Belle?”
“She’s good. She had an agent from L.A. contact her. He wants to talk about representing her. And Carlyn came through with arranging the sales.”
“She did? That’s a relief.” Her smile was fleeting, but there. “I spoke with your lawyer while I was away. Thank you for including us in your restraining order.”
“It’s the least I can do.”
She was guarded, and he understood why. He’d been the one to make it like this. It was as though there was an invisible wall between them, he could still see her, but he couldn’t penetrate through.
“I’m so sorry for the things I said last week…”
“Mommy!” Isla skipped over. “Gloria wants to know if I can have some soda? She brought a box down but you need to say yes.” Isla grabbed Meghan’s hand. “So come say yes, okay?”
Meghan bit down a smile. “I guess I’m going over there,” she said to Rich.
He nodded. “I guess you are.” Their eyes connected and it was like the shield disappeared for a moment. He felt the strength of her stare in the center of his chest. “Can we talk later?”
“Maybe?” She glanced down at Isla, who was still tugging her hand. “It depends on little ears.”
It was more than he felt he deserved, but he’d take it. And if they didn’t talk tonight, they’d do it another time. One thing was for sure, he had a lot of making up to do.
And he intended to do it.
It was getting late. Isla was already yawning, though she was valiantly trying to hide it as she sat on a metal chair and swung her legs, as Gavin told her about the llamas they’d met in Peru. Meghan was picking up paper plates and empty cans, putting them into the black trash bag she was carrying.
“Can I help?” a soft voice asked from behind. She didn’t need to turn to see who it was. She’d been so aware of him all night. Every time their eyes met her heart did a little loop-de-loop. He’d give her this little crooked smile, one that made her legs tremble, and she’d remind herself why that wasn’t a good idea.
That he’d hurt her. And she was still hurting a little. Sexy half-smiles wouldn’t soothe that pain away.
“Go for it,” she said, holding out the bag so he could slide more plates inside. His fingers brushed hers and she had to grit her teeth as to not react to it.
It only took five minutes to clear the whole area. Half the tables were empty by now, and those who were left were clustered at the far end of the grill area. Isla was leaning over Grant’s shoulder, watching what looked like a video on his phone. Something happened and she shrieked with laughter, and Grant ruffled her hair.
When Meghan looked at Rich, she could see him smiling at Isla’s laughter. It made her breath catch in her throat. He was too good looking. The hot doc.
The man who’d broken her heart.
“Can we talk now?” Rich said, his voice low. “I know you don’t have long. But there’s something I want to say.”
Meghan tied the top of the trash bag, and slid it into one of the huge lidded trash cans. “Okay.”
She followed him to an empty table and they sat. He was looking at her with warm eyes, his long legs stretched out in front of him.
“I’m so damn sorry,” he said. “For what I said to you Saturday night. It was wrong and I behaved like a child. And you didn’t deserve any of it.”
Meghan blinked. “You hurt me. I needed a friend and you pushed me away.”
He nodded, his expression pained. “I know. And I’m so pissed at myself for it. I put my own fear above your needs, and I really regret that. I want to be your friend.” He exhaled heavily. “I want to be more than that, actually. But if you need me to be just a friend, then that’s what I’ll be.” He looked down at the table, brushing crumbs from the surface. “And I�
�ll be the best damn friend you’ll ever have. Because being your friend would be an honor. You’re the best person I’ve ever met.”
Her hands were shaking. She threaded her fingers together to stop them. Part of her wanted to accept his apology with open arms. To wind the time back to last week, before Dylan arrived and all of this happened.
But he’d hurt her, and that was hard to forget.
“It’s not just about me,” she reminded him. “It’s about Isla. We were talking about being together. What if we’d told her and you’d walked away like that? It’s one thing hurting me, but I can’t let you hurt her, too.”
He blanched. “I know. And the thought of hurting her kills me. I understand it’s going to take a long time for you to trust me. To believe I won’t behave like that again. And I’m ready for that. I’m not going anywhere. I’m going to work harder than I’ve ever worked before to win you back. To show you that I’ll never hurt Isla. Because you’re worth it, both of you.” His gaze was clear. She could see the honesty there. “I’m not going to let my own fear stop me again.”
“What were you afraid of?” she asked him. This was what she couldn’t understand.
“I was afraid of history repeating itself.” He glanced down at his feet, then back at her. “I’ve always felt responsible for my parents dying. And for Belle’s injuries. They were driving to see me, after all. It was like I robbed her of the family she loved, and I’ve regretted it ever since. When I saw that Dylan wanted to be in Isla’s life, I panicked and withdrew because I didn’t want to be the one to stand in her way.”
Meghan frowned. “You wouldn’t have. And your parents dying wasn’t your fault. It was an accident. A horrible, heartbreaking accident.”
He exhaled heavily. “Yeah, I know that now. Or at least I’m trying to accept it. But on Saturday, all I could hear was this little voice in my head telling me I was going to hurt you two. That I always hurt the people I love. And I let it talk me into what to do.”
