by Warren, Pat
“Really?”
“Sure. No use worrying ahead of time.”
They reached the Porsche parked on the street. Megan had suggested they take her Mustang, which had a real back seat, not a tiny, abbreviated one. Naturally, Alex and Ryan had overruled her.
“Hey, look over there. A real ice-cream parlor. The Sweet Tooth. I haven’t been inside one of those in years.”
“I’ve never been inside one,” Ryan said hopefully.
“Because it’s new,” Megan informed them. “They only opened a month or so ago.” She couldn’t just keep taking from this man. He’d bought the pizza the other night and the tickets and popcorn tonight. The least she could do was to buy him an ice cream. “Before you two start campaigning, let’s go in. Only it’s my treat this time or we don’t go.” She glanced up at Alex. “Agreed?”
“Yes, ma’am.” She seemed more relaxed tonight, Alex thought as they crossed the street. Her hair was loose and just touching her shoulders. She had on a yellow-and-black-striped top over slim black slacks. He noticed she wore a simple gold chain around her neck.
It took Ryan forever to decide which sundae to order. On his knees on the red plastic booth, he squirmed and pondered, considering and dismissing.
“Are you sure you can handle a sundae after a cheeseburger at home and all that popcorn?” Megan asked, hoping he wouldn’t get sick between the food and the excitement.
“Hey, Mom, I’m a big kid. Okay, I’ve got it. The chocolate marshmallow over fudge ripple with whipped cream and two cherries.” Pleased with his final selection, he grinned at both of them.
Alex was enjoying the boy’s enthusiasm. “Make that two,” he told the gum-chewing teenage waitress.
There goes her tight budget, Megan thought, but joined in and told the girl she’d have the same. Looking around the crowded parlor, she waved at one of Emily’s sons seated across the room with his wife and two small children, then at an older couple who ran a corner grocery store.
“You came to a place like this a lot when you were my age, didn’t you, Alex?” Ryan wanted to know.
“No, hardly ever. My dad wasn’t around much, always working and traveling.”
“Like my dad.”
“I guess so. After my mom died...”
Ryan’s eyes grew wide. “Your mom died?”
“Yes, when I was twelve. She’d been sick for over a year.”
“Boy, that’s awful.” Ryan glanced at his own mother, a fearful thought settling on him.
Megan reached over to hug him. “I’m healthy, Ryan, and I plan to be around a long while.” The doctor had told her that when a child loses one parent, especially from as rapid an illness as Neal’s had been, he’s bound to worry about the other parent. She kissed his dark head reassuringly.
She was really great with the boy, Alex thought, and Ryan clearly adored her. It was something to see, their easy affection. “My brother and I had a nanny and she used to take us to get ice cream once in a while.”
Ryan screwed up his face. “A nanny? Like a nanny goat?”
Alex hid a smile and saw Megan do the same. “Not quite. A nanny is someone who watches over kids when the parents aren’t around. Maddy came to live with us and she still takes care of my father’s house. A great lady.”
“But not as good as your real mom, right?” After Ryan heard that Alex had lost his mom, his young heart went out to his new friend.
“No, but she tried. She was really good at building kites and even climbed up our backyard tree once to talk to me when I wouldn’t come down.” Funny how that memory had popped up. The big old apple tree with its gnarled branches had been his haven, his refuge, when he needed to think or just be alone.
“Mom doesn’t like me to climb trees. She says I’ll get hurt.”
“I guess that’s possible, but you have to learn to be careful.” He leaned forward confidentially. “You know what I always wanted? A tree house.”
“A house in a tree? Do they really have those?”
“You have to build it with lumber and stuff. Get a piece of carpet to put on the floor. That’d be neat, huh?” He felt Megan’s eyes on him and shifted his gaze. She was definitely not smiling. “I guess it’s not very practical.”
“Maybe we could build one,” Ryan said, catching the fever but not his mother’s frown. “We have a big tree in our backyard.”
The ice-cream sundaes arrived in time to save Alex from further frowns. Then all three dug in, and to Megan’s surprise not only did Ryan finish his, but she did, too.
Wiping her mouth, she sat back. “I have to admit, that was terrific.”
“Stick with me, kid, and I’ll show you more terrific.” His green gaze stayed on her face and he wished just then that they were alone, that he could reach over and touch her smooth skin, watch her eyes grow dark as they had last night in the graveled parking lot. She made him want to do things like showing her New York in the spring or Paris in the summer or Italy in the autumn. Or just simple things, like taking a walk in the forest or watching a sunset by the sea.
Alex felt she was interested, though she didn’t want to be. He recognized the signs. And he was interested, too. But only temporarily, and he had a gut feeling Megan Delaney wasn’t now or had she ever been a temporary kind of woman.
No man had ever made her lose herself in his eyes, Megan thought, feeling heat move into her face despite the cold dessert she’d just eaten. Alex had her softening, warming, opening with just a look. How could that be? Neal hadn’t been able to do that, not on his best day. What was happening to her?
Alex looked away first. This wasn’t in anyone’s best interest, he decided firmly. He wasn’t a forever kind of guy and he also had no business letting Ryan think he might be around for that long. He’d promised Megan he wouldn’t hurt her son and he meant to keep that promise.
They strolled back to the car, a noticeable silence between the two adults as Ryan skipped ahead. Under the streetlamp, Alex unlocked the Porsche and held the seat forward so Ryan could get into the small back seat, then turned to allow Megan to enter. As she stepped around him, he saw that she’d pushed her bangs to one side, leaving a pink scar visible near her left temple. He knew a little something about scars and how long they took to heal.
He reached to touch it lightly. “This is fairly recent,” he commented. “What happened?”
Moving away from his touch, Megan’s fingers feathered her bangs over the scar. “It’s nothing.” Averting her eyes, she climbed into the low-slung car.
Nothing? Alex thought as he closed her door and walked around to the driver’s side. A three-inch scar that had to have happened less than a year ago, since it looked pretty much like his own, was hardly nothing. And if it was nothing, why hadn’t she just explained how it had happened?
Something there, he decided as he started the powerful engine. And he meant to find out what.
Chapter 5
Whistling slightly off-key, Alex strolled up the stairs on the way to his room. He’d spent a lucrative Saturday morning and he was pleased with himself. After breakfast, he’d cruised the town of Twin Oaks, which, given its size, hadn’t taken all that long. Not only had he found another parcel of land on the outskirts that might be suitable for upscale homes, but he’d come upon some municipal tennis courts. He loved tennis and hadn’t played in far too long.
Since his racquet and shoes were in the trunk, if he could just find someone to play singles with, he might be able to work off some restless energy. Switching songs in midwhistle, he reached the top of the second floor where his room was located and saw that his door was open. Puzzled, he walked in.
There was a grunting sound coming from his bathroom. Peeking in, he saw Megan standing in his bathtub barefoot, her jeans rolled up to midcalf, wrestling with a huge pipe wrench. She was concentrating so hard, she didn’t hear him. He couldn’t help but smile at the picture she made. Poster girl for Plumbers’ Weekly Magazine.
“Ahem.” He sa
w her startled jerk just before she turned toward the doorway. “Do you have a union card, ma’am?”
“Very funny.” She dropped her aching arms, wishing she had more strength in her hands. “Grace was in here cleaning the room earlier and discovered that your shower was leaking. Hadn’t you noticed?”
Actually he had, but he’d been reluctant to tell Megan since she’d already had the repairman out recently for the washer. He’d planned to sneak a peek into her toolbox when she was busy and borrow a wrench to fix it himself without bothering her. He hadn’t felt like getting into a sparring match with her over a drippy shower. “Maybe I just didn’t turn it off tightly enough.”
Megan sent him a long-suffering look. “You look strong enough to me.” She raised the wrench, tried to get a good grip, but it slipped.
“You’re right. I am strong enough. Stronger than you.” He toed off his shoes, whipped off his socks and stepped into the tub with her. “Move over and let me tighten this.”
Surprised, Megan nonetheless let him since she’d been getting nowhere. She leaned toward the tiled wall so she could explain. “The head came off in my hand the first try. See over here? I think the threads are worn.”
“Probably. I don’t suppose you have any Teflon tape so we can wind it around the threads before trying to tighten it again?” He saw her shake her head. “I didn’t think so.” He took the wrench and adjusted it, then reached up to set it around the bolt. “Tell me, do you play tennis?”
Her mind on plumbing, Megan frowned. “Tennis?”
“Yeah, you know, racquet, balls, a court, a net. Tennis.”
Wondering what tennis had to do with fixing a shower, she sighed. “I used to a long, long time ago, in high school.” A lifetime ago, it seemed.
Alex gazed at her over his shoulder. “It can’t have been that long ago. What are you, twenty-six, twenty-seven?”
“Twenty-seven. That was ten years ago, but it seems like more. Why do you ask?”
“I found these fairly nice courts over by Berkshire Woods. I thought we could go bat a ball around for a while. Good exercise.”
Just what she needed after her sixteen-hour days was more good exercise. “Sorry, but I’m way too rusty. I’d probably put your eye out. You know, like that girl’s rubber bands did.” She almost chuckled aloud remembering his story of spin the carrot.
“It’ll come back to you, like riding a bicycle. We could just practice, not play a real game until you warm up. Do you have a racquet?” He tightened the bolt again, putting some real muscle into it.
“Probably out in the garage somewhere or maybe my closet.” She braced an arm against the side wall, trying to ease past him so she could step out. Instead, her shoulder hit the handle and the shower spray turned on full blast. “Oh!”
Water surged onto Alex’s head, blinding him for a moment. Groping about, he tried to locate the handle with his eyes closed, but couldn’t.
Megan was trying to climb out and get away from the cold water soaking her, but the more she struggled to get around him, the less traction her bare feet had on the slippery bottom of the tub. In order to keep from falling, she reached out with both hands and grabbed hold of his shirt, hanging on for dear life.
Behind her back, Alex finally managed to turn off the water. Standing there, drenched to the skin, his hair plastered to his head and a very wet woman clinging to him, he did the only thing he could think to do. He laughed out loud.
Surprised, Megan leaned back, then saw the humor of the situation. She began laughing, too. “I guess,” she gasped out between bubbles of laughter, “I should have turned the water off at the source.”
“Yeah, I’d say so.” Alex raised a hand to brush her wet hair off her face. She was close up against him, very close, and smelled like a mixture of soap and shampoo. A clean, wholesome scent, yet oddly sensual. His eyes drifted to her mouth as she licked water from her lips. Involuntarily, his arms tightened around her and his body tightened in response.
Megan felt her smile slip away. She was trapped in his eyes again, in their sea green depths. She was close enough to see a tiny nick on his stubborn jaw where he’d cut himself shaving. She was close enough that she could almost taste him.
Alex saw a chance to give life to his fantasies. He had to kiss her before he went stark, raving mad. Lowering his head, he touched his mouth to hers.
Megan saw the kiss coming, could easily have stopped it. She knew instinctively that he wasn’t the sort of man who’d insist if she said no. But she didn’t say no, didn’t want to stop him. His mouth grazed hers, softly at first, then he drew in a breath and made a sound deep in his throat as he pulled her closer.
Her eyes drifted shut and she let him take her under as her arms wound around him with a will of their own. She hadn’t been kissed in well over two years, and even then not like this. Never like this. He eased back slightly, and when her lips parted in surprise, his tongue entered her mouth. He tasted, he devoured, he plundered, and all the while his hands at her back pressed her closer and closer.
She would pay for this in self-recriminations later, Megan knew. But for now, for once, couldn’t she just enjoy the kiss when she’d enjoyed so little in far too long? Couldn’t she allow herself to feel things she wasn’t sure she would ever feel again? Couldn’t she be like other women for just this brief moment in time and know what it was like to be in a man’s arms, a man who seemed to want her desperately?
She would pay the price later, but for now, she would just savor.
Alex had known she’d taste like this, sweet and oddly innocent. He knew she’d been married for years, had a child. Yet there was a hesitancy about her just before his mouth touched hers that excited him. She seemed inexperienced and stunned to discover her own sensual need.
Her breathing was labored, warm on his cheeks. She smelled so good and tasted even better. Unable to resist, he placed a kiss in the small dimple in her chin that intrigued him so, then returned to her waiting mouth. Almost tentatively, her tongue touched his and he took over while his hands began to roam.
He found her to be slender beneath his roving fingers, yet every inch a woman. She was wearing a short-sleeved denim shirt two sizes too large, and the soaking wet extra material was frustrating him. He wanted to feel her skin, to touch her. His hands moved between them and under the heavy cotton, searching for her breasts.
The moment his fingers touched her bare flesh, Megan felt as if cold water had splashed on her again. Her eyes flew open and she took a shaky step back, coming to her senses. What on earth was she doing? Whatever was wrong with her?
She was standing soaked to the skin in a guest’s room, kissing him as if she couldn’t ever get enough, with the door open so anyone could stroll by and see them. Thank goodness Grace had taken Ryan to his Little League practice. That would have been all she needed, to have one of them troop in.
With an audible groan, she moved another step back, shoving her damp hair aside with both hands, beating herself up over her stupid lapse of good sense. Quickly, she stepped out of the tub and grabbed a towel from the rack, pressing it to her flaming cheeks. “I...I’m so sorry.”
Alex followed her out, having watched the play of emotions on her expressive face and guessing how she felt. “Don’t be. We didn’t do anything so terrible or wrong.”
But Megan wasn’t listening, wouldn’t look at him. “What must you think of me? Oh, God!” When he touched her arm, she pulled free. “No, no, let me go.” And she hurried out, out of his room and up the stairs, tracking water to her own room, where she closed her door and fell on her bed, still clutching the towel.
Pulling up her knees and rolling to her side, she let the raw emotions buffet her as she sobbed into the towel. What must Alex think of her, brazenly inviting his advances the very first time he touched her, with openmouthed kisses she’d obviously invited? She was the proprietor of the establishment where he was a guest, and her behavior was way out of line. She could have stopped it, co
uld have prevented the whole thing from happening. But she hadn’t, hadn’t wanted to. What, exactly, did that make her? lonely. That’s what she was, lonely. Not just for a man’s touch, but for a man’s companionship, like last evening’s trip to the movie and the ice-cream parlor afterward. Laughing together, acting like a family, if only a make-believe one, for a few hours. Despite her protestations to Grace to the contrary, work and friendship and her son weren’t enough.
But what did she know about flirting, about attracting men in the nineties? She’d married too young to master the game, then found herself alone again. Alone and lonely for the warmth and touch and special flavors of a man, which she’d had for such a brief time with Neal before she’d discovered his true nature.
But Alex didn’t know how rotten her marriage had been. He didn’t know what a huge price she’d paid for marrying the best catch of the county. Neal Delaney, handsome, charming, sexy. All the girls wanted him, but she’d won him. It had taken her less than a year to realize she hadn’t caught the brass ring after all.
But Alex couldn’t know about those terrible years when Neal had tried job after job, losing one after the other, always blaming others, getting frustrated, turning to drink. She’d been about to leave him when she’d discovered that Ryan was on the way. But where could she have gone anyway, and how could she have supported herself and her baby with only a high school diploma? Not back to her mother’s small house where Dottie was still struggling to raise her other two daughters. Eighteen, pregnant and alone would have been worse than sticking it out with Neal. So she had.
When the insurance money from Neal’s parents’ death had arrived, she’d managed for the first and only time to convince him that they had to invest in something solid for Ryan’s sake. The bed-and-breakfast that bore his name had appealed to Neal at first, mostly because he saw himself as this handsome meeter and greeter at the door, welcoming guests to his place. What he hadn’t been able to visualize was all the work that went into turning an old residence into a viable guest house and keeping it running. And he’d soon tired of trying.
