“What are we going to do if you can’t make the rest of my costume, Mommy?”
Simon rested his fork on his empty plate. “Maybe I can help.”
She knew he was crafty. After all, he was here with her family against her better judgment. But was he good with his hands? She knew the answer to that too because the memory of his touch sent a shiver through her. But most important, she didn’t want her daughter to be embarrassed in front of the whole school.
“I don’t know, Simon. Do you know how?”
“I think I can manage.” He sent her a wry look. “I’m an engineer.”
“He makes airplanes, Mommy.”
“Parts,” he clarified. “But wings are parts.”
Bayleigh slipped off her chair and stood next to him. “Can you make me some really cool ones? Hannah said her daddy is making really cool ones, and I want some, too.”
Simon looked at Megan and his expression told her he wanted to say yes. But she had to speak now or forever hold her peace. When she saw the hopeful, earnest look on her daughter’s little face, she held her peace. Besides, she wanted Bayleigh to be the best-looking angel ever. An engineer would come in handy. How could she say no?
“I promise you’ll have the coolest wings in kindergarten,” he finally said.
“Really?” Bayleigh’s eyes grew big and round and excited. “And will you come to my play?”
“I wouldn’t miss it for anything. But we’ll have to start on those wings right away.”
And that was how Megan’s two-week and two-day window slammed shut. And boy could she have used that time.
A holiday dinner with the Brightwells had been an eye-opener. From the moment she’d walked in the door with Simon, her instinct to protect and defend him had instantly switched on. That meant only one thing: she cared about him. More than nurse for patient. More than friends.
More than she wanted to.
Chapter Fourteen
“I think more sparkles.” Bayleigh inspected the angel’s wings Simon had just finished constructing.
Megan’s kitchen table looked like a craft store had exploded all over it. Bits of white netting, ribbon, glitter and glue cluttered the newspapers she’d spread out to protect the furniture.
She’d just bathed Bayleigh and the child smelled of soap, shampoo and sleepy little girl. Her still-wet hair had grooves where her mother had run a brush through it. The familiar scents unlocked thoughts of Marcus, and Simon waited for the pain that always sucked the breath out of him. When it didn’t happen, he was unsettled. Sad but not destroyed. He would always miss his son. But he felt ready now to remember, and it was okay to let the memories make him smile.
Thanks to Megan. And her little girl.
If not for Bayleigh, he’d have had to find another excuse to hang out with her mom.
“More glitter?” He studied the angel’s wings fashioned from wire, an overlay of netting, bits of ribbon and the small but nearly empty bottle of silver sparkles. “This is just my opinion, Bayleigh, but if you put any more glittery stuff on, they’re going to have to hand out sunglasses to the audience.”
“That’s silly, Simon.” She grinned at his exaggeration. “Mommy, what do you think?”
Megan put her arm around the little girl, who retreated to the other side of the table and nestled beside her. “I hate being the tie-breaker.”
“It builds character,” Simon pointed out. “Parenthood isn’t for the faint of heart. Honesty is the best policy. And that means no taking sides based on family connections. Nepotism is pretty unattractive.”
She leveled him with a droll look. “If you wanted to do this your way, why didn’t you just say so? What did you need us for?”
Good question. On the one hand, he fought the urge to camp out on her doorstep just to see her and monopolize every free moment she had. On the other, he didn’t want to be interested in Megan Brightwell. Fate had a way of making you pay when you cared too much.
But he’d promised himself to show her not all guys leave. So here he was making angel wings. As promised. For the angel who had grabbed him by the lapels and yanked him kicking and screaming out of perpetual midnight. Since she had, he was going to try to return the favor.
On Thanksgiving he’d sensed her reluctance to have him involved in her life—not to mention this school project and her sister’s wedding. He could almost see that she was holding back, forcing herself to deny the attraction arcing between them. She could lay down rules all she wanted, but it was so much wasted breath. Sooner or later he and Megan were going up in flames.
“Simon? Are you okay?” Bayleigh peered at him through her glasses.
“Hmm? Yeah. I’m fine.” For the first time in a long time, he was telling the truth. He was okay. “What was the question?”
Megan’s eyes narrowed as she studied him. “I bet you didn’t play well with others when you were growing up.”
“What does that mean?”
“If you didn’t want input on wing construction, why did you include us in the project?”
He met her gaze as he thought about the question. “A couple reasons, I guess. First, it’s Bayleigh’s play, and she has to wear the costume. It’s fun. And I forgot how much I missed…kids.”
He’d been about to say family, but the shadows in Megan’s eyes stopped him. “So what do you think? To glitter or not to glitter? That’s the question.”
Megan tapped her lips as she studied the wings. “More isn’t necessarily better. Sometimes less is more. On the other hand, we’re going to lose some in transport.”
“You said your mom sewed the dress part. Maybe we should attach these and have Bayleigh try it on. See how it looks. Under the lights.”
The little girl shook her head. “It’s bad luck.”
Megan looked at her. “Where did you hear that?”
“At Grammy’s on Thanksgiving. Uncle Kyle was trying to get Aunt Cassie to let him see her wedding dress. She said it was bad luck for him to see it before the big day.”
“That’s just a wedding superstition, sweetie,” Megan explained. “It has nothing to do with costumes for kindergarten plays. Why don’t you try it on so we can see how it looks?”
Stubbornly she shook her head. “Nope.”
“I guess you’re just going to have to wait until the big day to see the fruits of your labor.” Then her smile disappeared. “That is, I’ll take lots of pictures. I didn’t mean to imply that you had to come to the performance.”
“But you are going to be there, Simon. You said you would.” Bayleigh stifled a yawn.
“Simon’s working now, sweetie. Maybe he doesn’t have time to take off during the day for the play.”
“Can you?”
He smiled. “That’s the nice thing about being a consultant. I tell them what time I can consult. I’ll be there.”
“Promise?”
“Count on it,” he said fervently.
“Bay, it’s bedtime now. Say good-night to Simon.”
“Do I hafta, Mommy? Just five more minutes?” When her mother shook her head, she said, “Four? Three? Two?”
“Zero. Let’s go. Say good-night.”
“Oka-ay.” The little girl could have moved slower as she rounded the table, but she would have come to a stop. Then she put her arms up for a hug. “’Night, Simon.”
Simon resisted the tug on his heart for just a moment before folding her small body into his arms. “Sleep tight, kiddo.”
Megan hustled her down the hallway and the murmur of voices drifted to him. For the second time that night he felt contentment slip over him. Is this what living again was like? People to care about. To count on him. To come home to. A special woman to laugh with. Love with.
Almost before he had a chance to miss her, Megan was back. She folded her arms over her chest as she surveyed the mess on the table. When she met his gaze, her mouth turned up at the corners.
“I bet your employees were glad when you sold the company.”<
br />
Surprised at her observation, he asked, “Why would you think that?”
“You’re a slave driver. Bayleigh’s head hardly hit the pillow before she was asleep.”
He laughed. “She’s something else. And let’s talk about who wore out whom.”
“Good point. She’s definitely a bundle of energy.”
He picked up the newly constructed wings and turned them to the light to inspect the handiwork. “Don’t sugarcoat it now. Tell me what you really think. More glitter?”
She shook her head. “The fashion police wouldn’t let her into heaven…” She stopped as if she’d inadvertently revealed a national security secret. “Simon, I didn’t mean to bring up—I mean that was thoughtless. To spoil your mood—”
“No. It’s a relief. I’ve held things in too long. There’s no need to censor yourself. In fact, I’ve been thinking about Marcus a lot tonight.” If he didn’t know better, he would call the look on her face guilty. But that was ridiculous. She’d made him see holding back was a waste of time and energy. “It feels good to remember him. Less pain than I thought there’d be. Just good memories. Did I tell you he was about Bayleigh’s age when I lost him. I wonder if he would have been in a Christmas play in kindergarten?”
“Simon—” Megan moved closer and stood beside him. Close enough for him to feel the warmth of her body, smell the scent of her skin through her matching black fleece pants and shirt. She looked at him until he met her gaze.
“What?”
“Bayleigh can’t take his place.”
“I know.” He sighed. “That’s not what this is about. I’m not doing that. Believe me. It’s just that she’s so…busy. Talking. Observing. She has her own five-year-old take on the world.”
“If she’s too much just say so—”
“No. Never. I’ve had enough quiet to last the rest of my life. I’m not looking for her to replace Marcus. No one could do that. It’s just—” He ran his fingers through his hair. “I’m a selfish bastard, but this is the truth. I miss him a little less when I build angel wings with her. Or escort her to a wedding.” He slipped an arm around her waist and urged her onto his lap. “Don’t you feel it, too?”
“Feel what?”
“Less lonely.”
“But I’m not. I’ve got my work, my child, my family—”
“Is that enough?”
“Yes. I’m fine.”
He tightened his grip when she started to push herself away. “Are you? Then why do you keep your distance?”
“I told you why, the first time we met and played nurse and the daredevil.”
“I remember. And it’s only fair to warn you I’m determined to prove you wrong. Any resemblance to him is entirely fabricated by you to keep me at a distance.”
“Don’t, Simon—”
“What?”
“We can’t have a future even if I wanted one.”
“If you’re going to give Bayleigh a traditional family with a mother and a father, sooner or later you’re going to have to let your guard down.”
Refusing to put her arm around him, she clasped her fingers together in her lap. “I don’t know if I can. But that’s not why you and I don’t stand a chance.”
“Then why?” Until that moment, he would have sworn he didn’t even want a chance. But now…
“I have something to tell you.” She looked at him, studying, taking his measure, gauging…what? His strength? He was doing fine physically. And what did that have to do with anything?
“Okay. Let’s have it.”
“It’s about Bayleigh’s eyesight.” She slipped off his lap and started cleaning up the table.
“What about it?”
“The surgery—” She turned, her hands clutching bits of scraps from the project until her knuckles turned as white as the netting. “I don’t know how—it’s hard to say—”
“Just spit it out.”
She sighed and looked away. “There are no guarantees. Her vision is fine now. But any time she could—”
He stood behind her and rubbed his hands up and down her arms. “No one knows better than me that life doesn’t come with a guarantee. If you’re trying to scare me away, it’s not going to work. I’m not going anywhere.”
“You can’t be sure. I don’t want you to make promises to her that you can’t keep.”
“And what about you?” He turned her toward him.
Doubt swirled in her eyes. “I learned not to count on anyone.”
“Is that what you wanted to tell me?”
“Pretty much,” she said, then turned away and started stuffing scraps of stuff from the table into a plastic bag.
As badly as he wanted to pull her back into his arms and kiss her, he sensed it was the worst thing he could do. Something was bothering her and she wasn’t ready to talk yet. He knew her well enough not to push her further away by getting too personal before she was ready. So he helped her pick up the trash. After all, isn’t that what life was about? Picking up the pieces and moving on?
Because as much as he didn’t want to care deeply again, she’d made him realize it wasn’t always about what he wanted. It’s about what was. Megan had come in under his radar. Before he knew it, he’d started to need her. But she was trying to ignore the fact that she needed him, too. He would make her see you couldn’t bury your head in the sand without leaving your backside exposed.
Sitting at the head table, Megan watched her married sister and new brother-in-law dance. Wedding vows had gone off without a hitch. The reception was winding down now, but it had been perfect. Location, location, location. The Odyssey Restaurant was high on a hill overlooking the spectacular twinkling lights of the San Fernando Valley. The large banquet room looked like a fairyland with flowers, small white lights and candles.
Simon was beside her looking more handsome than she’d ever seen him in a charcoal suit with gray shirt and matching satin tie.
He looked at her and smiled. “Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?”
“As a matter of fact—no. But I’m sure it’s the dress.” The spaghetti strap, cream satin dress with chiffon overlay and pink rosebuds appliquéd on the scalloped bodice made her feel beautiful. Her daughter was wearing the little-girl version with little cream-colored bows at the straps. “Do I look as good as your date?”
He glanced across the room where Bayleigh was with several children. One was a boy of ten she’d been shadowing since the reception started. “My date dumped me.” The feigned hurt on his face made her laugh. “I’m drowning my sorrows.”
“I happen to know for a fact you’re drinking ginger ale.” He shrugged, drawing her attention to the width of his shoulders in the expensive jacket. If only he looked like a troll, she thought.
“To each his own when dealing with a broken heart.”
“Imagine her spurning you for a blond, blue-eyed god closer to her own age. She’s just like my sister.”
“How’s that?”
Megan’s glance slid to Cassie and Kyle, smiling, dancing, kissing, generally being in love. How she envied the happiness they shared. How she longed for the same thing. If only the first man to make her think about it wasn’t the wrong man.
She met his gaze again and sighed. “Cassie fell in love with Kyle when she was a kid and has spent the past twenty-five years getting her man. Tyler—”
“The blue-eyed god?”
“The very one. He lives next door to my folks. Bayleigh plays at his house with his younger sister.”
Simon watched the children and a wary expression slipped into his eyes. “If he so much as touches a single bow on her pretty little dress, I’ll squash him like a bug.”
“Even though she dumped you?”
He looked at her and smiled wryly. “Yup.”
“Spoken like a true—”
“Yes?”
Father. She’d been about to say it because that’s the way he’d been acting. “Spoken like a jealous suitor,” she sa
id instead. She forced a lightness into her tone that was a complete lie.
Because it’s what she hadn’t said that was torturing her. She should have told him the truth up front. She should have told him of the bond their children shared. It would have been so much easier before…before what? Before her emotions had become engaged? Before her child had met him? He’d come over almost every evening since Thanksgiving two weeks ago. Bay was becoming attached. If Simon’s behavior was any indication, he was forming an attachment of his own. But she’d listened to Janet and waited.
“Instead of drowning my sorrows in ginger ale, how about dancing with me to help me forget?”
The invitation, innocently offered, sparked a sexual awareness that shot straight to her abdomen and a rhythmic throbbing between her legs. Dance with him? Have his arms around her? Be close to his body?
“I’d love to,” she said.
They stood at the same time and he slid her chair back, then took her hand and led her onto the dance floor in the center of the room. He put his hand at her waist and drew her against him, then wrapped her other hand in his palm and rested the two on his chest. The closeness with him was like coming home. Why did he have to be the one to make her heart beat faster? The only one who twisted, tangled and turned her senses inside out and upside down? Fate had a lousy sense of humor. She was the one who had to tell him about his son.
The night he’d made the angel wings, she’d had the perfect opportunity but couldn’t make the words come out of her mouth. When he found out about Bayleigh’s transplant, he would turn his back. He’d never approved the decision to donate his son’s organs. How could he not resent the living child when he knew the truth?
Megan believed him when he’d said he wasn’t trying to substitute her and Bayleigh for the family he’d lost. What he was doing was far more dangerous. He was making both of them fall in love with him. How could she resist a man who loved as deeply as Simon?
As they moved slowly around the dance floor, she heard someone say, “Are you next down the aisle, Megan?”
In a sensuous haze, she looked around to find who’d asked the question, but whoever it was had waltzed by.
Midnight, Moonlight & Miracles Page 18
