Married. Wait! What?

by Virginia Nelson

  Something poked her hand. Megan yawned and stretched. Her body pressed against a hot, hard presence at her back and along her entire body. Chad. The poking returned. She blinked and froze as she peered into a curious, very attentive green gaze.

  “I want pancakes.”

  Pancakes. Megan sighed and glanced at the clock. Five a.m. Chickens hadn’t even hit the snooze alarm yet. God bless little ones and their never-ending energy levels.

  Hunter pounced on the bed. She grimaced and sat up.

  “Ssh. Your daddy needs to rest.” She motioned toward the door. “You ninja your way outside and wait for me. I’ll be right out.”

  Hunter tore off, sneaking along the wall of the large bedroom in his Spiderman pajamas, complete with webbed feet. Thankful for a moment of respite, Megan extricated herself from Chad. Men slept like comatose patients. It was the only explanation for why he hadn’t woken like she had.

  She brushed her teeth and combed her hair. A shower would be nice, but she doubted little Hunter would wait that long. She donned Chad’s shirt from the night before and threw on a bathrobe he had hanging on the back of the bathroom door.

  By the time she made it outside Chad’s bedroom and shut the door, little ninja Hunter was bouncing like Tigger from Winnie the Pooh. He latched onto her hand and they made their way downstairs.

  Now what?

  She wandered aimlessly a few moments, wishing for things like automatic IV drips of caffeine. Fortunately, Hunter knew more about the layout of the house than she did and helped find the kitchen, which was two rooms off the dining room they’d been in the night before.

  Megan had zero business making herself at home in the Chambers estate. That much was clear last night. But Hunter wanted pancakes and she was going to give him pancakes.

  “What do you like in your pancakes?”

  “Chocolate chips!” His gaze swept to the side. His little lips thinned and his body shrank a bit.

  “Huh. Interesting. I’d imagine your daddy doesn’t give you chocolate chip pancakes all the time.” With a body like that, Chad probably didn’t even consume a sweet.

  “Blueberries are good too,” he whispered as penance. “With juice.”

  She narrowed her eyes. She could envision Chad’s body spontaneously combusting with all the sugar in juice.

  “Or milk,” he offered.

  Little con artist. Megan smiled and made herself at home in the kitchen. If she was lucky she’d have the pancakes cooked and the mess cleaned up before anyone was the wiser. Such was the luck of being up way before the chickens.

  Unhealthy or not, Megan couldn’t imagine feeding little Hunter just pancakes—not when an entire kitchen of food was there for the taking. She started some bacon and got to work cracking eggs and making the batter.

  “Grammy!” Hunter shouted. His chair scraped and he bound across the kitchen and slammed into Chad’s mom.

  Great. Well, at least it wasn’t Chad’s grandmother.

  “Hi, I hope you don’t mind. Hunter was hungry.”

  “I meant to wake up, but am afraid I slept in.” Anna smiled and crossed the kitchen. “What can I do to help?”

  “I thought we’d make some scrambled eggs too, maybe get him a bit more protein than pancake,” Megan said. “The bacon should be ready soon.”

  “Perfect, then I’ll get the eggs going while you handle the pancakes. Harold’s in the shower,” she offered by way of warning.

  “Great timing. It should be done by the time he gets up.”

  “Is Chad on his way down?” Anna looked over her shoulder from the second stove. She had the subtlety of a sledgehammer in a glass room.

  “Daddy was asleep,” Hunter offered. “I tried poking him first, but his hands were under the covers, so I went around and poked Meg.”

  A world of information resided in the innocent statement. Megan tried not to think about the fact Chad’s mom now knew they slept together.

  “Remember what I said about poking. It’s not very nice, especially in the morning,” Anna said.

  “I know, I waited forever.” Hunter huffed his frustration as he walked back to the six seat table in the corner of the massive kitchen and sat. “Can I have some juice?”

  “In a minute. Breakfast is almost ready,” Megan said. “Do you want to help and set the table?”

  “Really?” Hunter’s eyes widened. “Great Grams never lets me help. Grams either.”

  Megan flashed an apologetic smile at Anna who’d turned to observe her grandson interact with her. “Well you’re getting to be a big boy. There are lots of things you can to do help out, as long as you stay away from the hot stoves and ovens and sharp stuff.”

  Excitement bubbled from Hunter like a volcano about to explode as Megan found dishes and silverware for him to put out on the table—with a carrying assist from his grandmother. The little boy looked at the forks.

  “Only one? Great grams likes lots of forks.”

  “One will do,” Anna replied.

  Megan dished up food and carried it to the table just as Harold entered. A brief moment of tension filled the room as he looked about, then settled into a seat beside his wife. Hunter stared at the eggs on his plate like they were going to jump off and kill him.

  “You don’t like eggs?” she asked.

  “They’re yucky.”

  “Really?” Megan shrugged as she got up and headed to the fridge. A couple moments later she returned with the ketchup. She plopped a big lump on her scrambled eggs and stirred.

  “You can do that?” Hunter asked, his saucer-sized eyes on her plate.

  “Ketchup goes on everything,” Megan whispered, treating the statement like a secret. “When I was your age I hated spinach and fried fish. Grandma made me eat everything on my plate. Grandpa was the one who told me the ketchup secret.”

  “Wow.” Hunter squirmed in his seat. “Can I try?”

  “You sure you’re ready for a secret that big?” Meg asked. “Not everyone can handle ketchup on their eggs, you know.”

  “I’m ready.” He reached for the ketchup.

  By the time she helped him douse the eggs and stir them up, she’d forgotten they weren’t alone. Anna and Harold watched from their seats, mirrored shock on their faces. Anna recovered first with a clearing of the throat and an offering of the coffee, which she’d somehow made without Megan even noticing.

  Megan alternated between helping Hunter syrup and cut up his pancakes and eating her own meal. The little boy talked nonstop, even during chews. She bit her tongue from admonishing him in front of his grandparents. Her part in Hunter’s life was brief, an accident.

  Sure, she was around when Chloe babysat, but that wasn’t an overnight or fixing him breakfast kind of thing. That was for him mom. His father. His family.

  Not her.

  Her heart clenched at the thought.

  “Can I go play?” Hunter asked.

  “Yes, but carry your plate to the sink. Big boys help with the dishes,” she replied. “I’ll be in to play after I get stuff cleaned up.”

  “Okay.” He skipped toward the sink and dumped his plate and fork in.

  Harold chuckled when the boy tore out. “You’re good with him. I swear that’s the first time he’s eaten all his eggs.”

  “It’s the ketchup, a miracle condiment for children.” Megan took a sip of her coffee to stave her nerves. Being alone with Chad’s parents wasn’t exactly on her agenda for the day. “I’m sorry if I overstepped my bounds.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. It was an ingenious move, one Harold and I should’ve noticed. Ketchup on eggs is brilliant.”

  “Pepper works well too,” she offered.

  “About last night,” Harold started. “Anna and I owe you an apology.”

  “My parents mean well, but they’re old school. You have no idea how difficult it was when we were your age,” Anna said. “But that’s not an adequate excuse for our part in yesterday and last night. I should’ve spoken up to them before
dinner even began, before you arrived.”

  “I’m proud my son did the right thing by you last night and walked out.” Harold smiled. “We raised him and Chloe right. The old man didn’t see that one coming.”

  “Chad’s a great man. He’ll make someone an excellent husband one day,” she choked out. “I assure you, though, that won’t be me. So you can rest easy.”

  As much as she wished otherwise, her time with Chad was temporary. They’d signed papers. He had a never-ending custody battle with Sheila to contend with. Then again, maybe they could figure out a way to make it work.

  “That’s unfortunate.” Anna sighed.

  “W-what?”

  “It’s unfortunate. I think you and he are very well matched. Harold and I have thought that for a long time.”

  “We’ll always be friends, as will Chloe and I. But even if we were suited for one another, Chad’s not ready for anything long term. He’s made that quite clear.” Megan forced a breath. “He made sure I signed the divorce papers before we left Vegas. It’s a done deal.”

  “I didn’t realize he’d moved so quickly,” Harold commented, his tone regretful, as if he sensed the thunderstorm of hurt, anguish and loss rising inside her.

  “It was a smart move, strike while the shock was in command. Rip the bandage off.” Megan forced a smile. “I’m sure the entire incident will be forgotten within a week.”

  “Is that how you see it, dear? An incident?” Anna asked, her voice feather soft and gentler than the breeze rushing in from the open kitchen window.

  “It’s the only smart way to view it,” Megan replied defensively.

  Truth told, she didn’t know how to view Vegas. At first it’d been a dire mistake—one she knew she wouldn’t escape unscathed. After last night…

  She was in heart-deep with no chance of escape. Walking away from Chad would be damn hard, if not outright impossible. Add little Hunter into the mix and…

  Megan choked on what she couldn’t have.

  Or could she?

  A small part of her held out hope that last night had meant something to him, that he’d wake up and realize they were meant to be together.

  Chad stormed into the kitchen and glared. “What did you do to my kid this morning?”

  “What? I…He woke me up. You were still sleeping. I let you rest and took care of him.”

  “You aren’t his mother. You aren’t keeping your clutches on me by using my kid. You think you’re the first one to try?”

  Her gut twisted, the anger a knife wound that struck center mass. Anna and Harold both gasped. The latter rose from the table and stood between Chad and Megan.

  “Hold up, son. What’s the matter?”

  “This doesn’t concern you, Dad.” Chad focused on Megan, pinning him with a rage she felt harder than a slap across the face. “He comes in, wakes you. You wake me. You don’t bring him down here and act like his mom. Act like you’re more than his aunt’s friend. He’s been through enough hurt having to scrape off one mom. What the hell’s he going to do when you’re not here anymore? What we did in Vegas doesn’t touch my kid. You aren’t part of my kid’s world, Megan.”

  And there it was. The death of her hope that he’d realize they could be something important. He hadn’t felt what she had last night. He’d turned what they’d shared into an ugly one night interlude. He cursed, then stormed out of the room.

  Chloe stood in the doorway, shock on his face. “What the hell is he pissed about?”

  Chad stormed from the main house and headed toward the garage. Leaving wasn’t an option since his grandfather probably left instructions with security at the gate not to let him leave after the fiasco at dinner. Jesus, he needed his head examined for making an even bigger cluster fuck of his life. Vegas should’ve been the icing on the cake, but no. He’d gone and made it loads worse.

  Last night had been...

  Unbelievable.

  How the hell could he walk away from her after last night?

  He had no choice. He’d been the dick who’d demanded she sign divorce papers before they left Las Vegas. He deserved to simmer in whatever stew his piss poor decisions created. Waking up to an empty bed this morning had been a kick to the gut. Realizing she’d crawled out of bed before dawn to feed his kid a breakfast fit for a king only made the stew boil over.

  Now Hunter was involved. He’d spent a good ten minutes hearing all about the breakfast and ketchup covered eggs. Then he’d gone into the kitchen and made an even bigger ass of himself.

  Footsteps sounded behind him and he didn’t have to turn around to know who stood nearby. Regret stilled his thoughts as his father settled a hand on his shoulder.

  He’d made it as far as the swimming pool before he’d gotten cornered. Frown lines around his father’s mouth indicated he was considering tossing his as in. Yeah, Chad admitted he deserved it.

  “I went to bed last night proud of the man you’d become. The way you stood up to your grandfather, defended her and your son. That’s the kind of man I raised. Your mother and I both went to bed with pride in our hearts and smiles on our faces.”

  “Dad, I-”

  “Your mother woke up this morning worried because Hunter didn’t wake her up. Your son made a choice, a conscious decision to bypass his aunt and his grandmother and seek you out. When he didn’t get you awake, he woke Megan rather than anyone else. Your mother was awake, heard the two of them when they first went into the kitchen.”

  Damn. Chad’s gut clenched, his mind readied for whatever his father was about to say. It wasn’t going to be what he wanted to hear. Dad never pulled punches.

  “That boy works your ma, your sister. He tried working Megan for chocolate chip pancakes this morning. Anna was ready to jump in, warn her he didn’t get those except for special occasions.” His dad laughed. “Your woman knew his game. I’m sure she’s spent lots of time with him, but never enough to make him breakfast and know the routine. But she got him fed, healthy food. He helped set the table, something your mom never even thought he’d want to do.”

  Damn. Hunter liked helping. A lot.

  “That boy damn near exploded with excitement because he set the table. Then she turned his world upside down with ketchup on eggs.” His dad laughed. “You would’ve thought she turned an ocean into wine.”

  “Dad, don’t. This isn’t your business.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong, son. See, I went to bed proud of the man my boy had become. I went to bed knowing he was a hell of a good father, one who’d do right by his son. I went to bed knowing he’d be a hell of a man for a great woman.”

  Silence descended. Chad swallowed the regret he’d already chewed on before his father searched him out. He’d been a dick. He deserved the lecture, even if the shame and censure hurt like hell.

  “Who you choose for your bed isn’t my business, son, but I woke up this morning and saw firsthand what Chloe’s said for many years. Megan is one hell of a woman, one who loves your son more than that pitiful excuse for a mother he landed out with ever did.” His father squeezed his shoulder when he turned away. “I’ve never been ashamed of you until this morning, son. You charged in and cut her so deep she bled out right there in the kitchen. I don’t know what happened in Vegas so the two of you wound up married, but I can tell you one thing for certain.”

  “Dad, I can’t hear this. Not now.”

  “Then you shouldn’t have gone off and ripped that girl into pieces,” her father said. His eyes narrowed. Brows furrowed, lips thinned. “That woman would walk through fire for you, son.”

  Fuck.

  Chad stifled the curse and paced. “You don’t understand, Dad. That’s exactly why I was pissed. One night and she’s already entrenched in Hunter’s life.”

  In mine.

  “And that’s a problem?”

  “Yeah, yeah it is, because the divorce papers are signed. Don’t you see? She’s out of our lives the moment the lawyer calls. She stopped being mine before
we even left Vegas.” His voice rose. Anger and hurt settled in his chest.

  “She’s not Sheila, son.”

  “I know. Why the hell did you even say that?”

  “Because I saw the wounds Sheila inflicted. I saw the way she ripped you into pieces, gutted everything you thought you had.” His dad’s voice broke. “I’ll live the rest of my life regretting not speaking my mind about that one. She’s why I’m out here stating my case about Megan.”

  His mom and dad both blessed Sheila’s entry into his life. An entrance made possible by his grandparents. She was the daughter of a prominent family, one his grandpa wanted to garner favor with for an upcoming business deal. Chad hadn’t put the pieces together until after the marriage, one which happened very quickly by society standards.

  “Megan’s nothing like Sheila,” Chad argued.

  “No, she’s not. She’s not carving you into pieces.”

  “Not intentionally. Still, she’ll be gone and I’m left with stitching Hunter’s life back together.” He recalled the brief conversation he’d had with his son in the living room before he’d stormed into the kitchen like an asshole. “He’s already talking about having ketchup eggs for dinner, Dad. One day and she’s already wormed into his heart.”

  “And I’m thinking his heart’s not the only one carrying a worm right now.” His dad’s whispered words thundered through him, a concussive blow so strong he stumbled beneath its weight.

  Chad sat. Head in hands, elbows on knees.

  Jesus.

  Damn.

  Fuck.

  How the hell had this happened?

  He was in love with Megan.

  “The love of a worthy woman has a way of wrapping around you without notice. She’s been a big part of the family for a long time, a shadow presence offering help and comfort whenever we needed.” His father’s voice firmed. “Chloe was always scared to babysit, but wasn’t about to admit as much to you--not when you needed the break. And especially when you needed the help to tend to business.”

  “She called Megan,” Chad guessed.

  “Your mom thinks so. Hunter’s very comfortable around her, abides by her instructions quicker than with us.” His father’s voice softened. “She’s a good woman, would make a great mother.”