Montana Promises
Page 23
Her head jerked again, and he took that for a nod. “Now,” she said, the word coming out soft. But the next words were spoken louder. “Now, Nate. Now!”
He thrust hard, his hands pulling her back at the same time he pounded her forward, and within seconds, both of them were roaring so loudly the room seemed too small to hold their shouts. But soon, they each quieted, each breathing harder than a simple round of sex should leave two people, and he gently brought her to her feet.
He wrapped both arms around her from behind, baby-stepping her away from the hole, and held her tight. “That was amazing.” He kissed her neck before leaving a trail of kisses up her cheek. “That was fucking unreal.”
A giggle slipped out of her, and she rested her head back against his chest. “It was. And I think I might want to do it again sometime.”
“Yeah?” He nipped at her ear. “Picture doing it with a mirror on the other side of you.”
“Mmmm.”
The slam of a door sounded from outside before he could convince her that he could hunt up a giant mirror right now, and both of them went still. “Was that here?” he asked.
“It sounded like it. But I don’t know who it could be.” She grabbed her dress and tiptoed over to the window to peek out . . . and then she whirled back to him, her eyes wide. “It’s my dad.”
She quickly dragged the dress over her head.
“My dad is here, Nate.” She searched around for her panties. “Why?”
Why now? he wanted to ask. But he held his question. He’d never met the man, but he already didn’t care for him. What dad didn’t have time for his youngest daughter? What dad cancelled on her, then didn’t even get in touch with her again for another seven weeks?
“What are you going to do?” he asked, and she looked at him in shock.
“I’m going to go answer the door.”
“Okay.” He nodded as she stepped into her panties, and at the same time her dad pounded on the door below. “But what about me?” he asked. “Us? This?” He motioned between them and then to his nakedness, and she seemed to get the point.
“Put your clothes on, and I’ll introduce you.” She gave him a quick kiss. “I guess it’s a day for telling our parents, huh? I love you.”
She was gone then, sliding down the pole, and he was left standing there—naked . . . confused—watching her pick her bra up off the living room floor.
She loved him?
Chapter Twenty
Megan straightened, bra in hand, and looked around for some place to hide it. So much excitement raced through her that her hands were shaking.
And then she realized what she’d just said.
She looked up.
There was no sign of Nate above her, though. All she could make out was the ceiling of her bedroom. But she could hear him up there. Water ran in the bathroom. Footsteps sounded on the floor.
She loved him?
When had that happened?
Or was she just so excited about her dad being there that that’s what had come out?
Pounding came from the door again. “Megan? Are you in there? It’s your father.”
She loved Nate.
She blinked as the words settled into her heart . . . then she smiled as the feeling spread throughout her limbs. She did. She loved him.
Of course she loved him! He was all the things she’d been looking for in a man. He was sweet and gentle. Kind. Hot. Fun. Smart and talented. Sensual. And he had a good heart. But most of all, he was her person. He was the passion and the joy she’d been searching for. And he made her happy.
She smiled wider. She was in love with Nate Wilde. And she’d just told him!
The doorknob rattled ten feet in front of her, and she jumped.
“Crap.” She’d forgotten her father was there. “Coming,” she shouted.
Grabbing the bag that she often used as a purse off the floor in front of the couch, she shoved the bra inside and rezipped the pack, then for the first time realized that she was about to open the door to her father while not wearing a bra. And likely smelling of sex.
She sniffed.
Then she shook her head and moved to the door. No time to worry about that now.
But then she remembered where her hand had been just a few minutes before, and she stared at the guilty appendage. “Oh . . . crap.”
“Meg?” her dad said from the other side of the door? “Is everything okay?”
“Everything is . . .” She let the words trail off as she looked longingly toward the kitchen, but when the doorknob rattled yet again—with pounding at the same time—she closed her hand around the knob and opened the door.
“Dad.” This time she had to force a smile. “It’s so great to see you.”
Her father stood on the other side of the threshold, sky-blue golf shirt perfectly tucked into khaki pants and hair precisely combed, looking more than a little concerned. “Are you okay?” He looked past her as if knowing someone was there.
She peeked as well, wondering if Nate had already made it downstairs, but the room remained empty. “Of course I’m okay. Please.” She took a step back and motioned him inside. “Come in. Just give me one minute. I was doing something in the kitchen.”
Hurrying to the kitchen, she turned on the water and noisily rummaged through her utensil drawer before her dad could make it in far enough to see that she hadn’t actually been doing anything.
By the time he’d stepped several feet into the room, she had both hands under the water, with her right one doused with a liberal amount of liquid soap. “Just make yourself at home,” she said a little too loudly. “And tell me what you’re doing here.”
Finally, her worry over what she must look—and smell—like subsided enough that her earlier enthusiasm for seeing her dad returned.
She dried her hands on a dish towel. “What a great surprise.”
“Yeah?” Her dad finally smiled. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
He was a good-looking man, and she’d always been proud to know that she held many of his features. “What are you doing here, Dad?” She crossed back over to him, and this time she pulled him in for a hug. “And why didn’t you call and tell me you were coming?”
“I did call.” He motioned back toward the door. “Several times, in fact. Then I finally ran across the store you said you’ve been helping with, and some lady passing by with her dog caught me peeking in the windows.”
“You were peeking in the windows?” She laughed lightly. “We’re closed today, but I can take you back up there if you want to see it.”
“No. I was just looking for you. I didn’t have your address.”
“Oh.” A little of her enthusiasm waned. He hadn’t been checking out the store. Of course he hadn’t. He had no idea how important it was to her. “Well, how did you find me, then?”
“A lady with the dog came by, and she knew you. And she knows Jaden. So, she called him and asked where you live.”
“Some lady on the street just handed out Megan’s address to a stranger?” The question came from Nate, who’d just descended the stairs. He was dressed in the jeans and pullover he’d had on before they’d started their sexual gymnastics, and his hair was pushed back from his face, slightly damp, as if he’d run wet hands through it while trying to get the strands to lie down.
Her dad looked back at her. “Who is this?” he asked.
“Who handed out her address?” Nate replied.
“Meg?”
This was not how she’d ever foreseen introducing Nate to her dad. Or to anyone else!
She slipped her arm through her dad’s and turned him toward Nate. “Dad. I want you to meet someone.”
“No.” Nate stopped her. “I want to know who handed out your address to a stranger.”
Her dad sighed. “She made me show her my driver’s license to prove who I am. I explained that I couldn’t get Megan on her phone, and she said her name was Janette. That she worked with Jaden.”
Megan nodded.
“That’s Janette Wangler.” She looked over to Nate. “That’s who he works with.”
“I know who Dr. Wangler is.” The scowl had yet to leave his face. “I’m just trying to decide if this is okay or not. He could have been anybody with the same last name.”
She laughed at that. “Look at us, Nate.” She waved her hand between herself and her father. They both had the same dark hair and same facial features. Their eye color didn’t match, but that barely made a difference. She looked just like her dad. “Janette stops in the store all the time. She knows me, and she’d have recognized the similarity without any trouble.”
His jaw finally loosened. “I suppose so.”
“I know so.” She held her other hand out toward him. “Now come over here. I want to introduce you to my dad.”
At her words, Nate’s demeanor changed from protectant to man about to meet his girlfriend’s father for the first time, and he pasted a polite smile on his face. He walked over to them and held out a hand. “It’s nice to meet you, sir. I’m Nate Wilde.”
“Wilde?” Her dad simply stared at him. “As in, Jaden Wilde?”
“Shake his hand, Dad,” she gritted out. “You’re being rude.”
“I’m being your dad.”
Nate dropped his hand and shoved them both in his front pockets. His brows went up. “I’m one of Jaden’s brothers, sir. Yes. Two years older than him.”
“He’s one of the twins,” she offered, not that she expected her dad to remember the details of Nate’s family. She’d spoken of them only once, the first time he and Jaden had met.
Her dad didn’t say anything else. He just checked Nate out, and Megan could see the judgment without him uttering a single word.
“Nate and I are dating. We have been for a while.” She released her dad’s arm and moved to Nate’s side, then she forced another smile to her face. “I’m glad he was here when you arrived so you two could get a chance to meet.”
“I’m glad, too,” Nate added, and as they stood there before her dad, he dropped a hand to his side and took hers. She glanced at him and saw support shining back, and the look made her remember what she’d said upstairs. What did he think about it?
Did he love her, too?
If he didn’t, did he think he ever could?
Then she remembered her dad again. She turned back to him. “So, to what do I owe this pleasure, Dad? You didn’t say before. And I thought you were out of the country.”
“I was out of the country,” her dad finally spoke. He shifted his eyes from Nate to her. “I was needed back in Seattle for a week, so I decided to catch a flight through here and talk to you about another company I can get you an interview at. They’ve filled the position in Chicago.”
Her heart sank. He was just here to try to get her to leave Birch Bay?
“I also thought I might take you out for a late lunch.” He looked at his watch, and Megan flicked a glance to the clock in the kitchen. It was two o’clock, and Max’s party would be starting at three. “I have a flight back out at seven, so I don’t have a lot of time.”
“You leave in only five hours, and the airport is an hour from here? That barely leaves time for lunch.”
“I told you. I have to be in Seattle.”
She almost told him that he shouldn’t have bothered coming at all if that’s all the time he could afford. She didn’t, though, because saying that might make it the last time he ever came to visit. And that might be worse than only having a couple of hours.
“So, can I take you to lunch?”
The problem with that finally hit her. She could either go with her dad to lunch, or she could go with Nate to tell his family they were seeing each other. That wasn’t a decision she wanted to make.
“It’s okay,” Nate said softly, as if he understood. He squeezed her hand again. “You go to lunch. I’ll go to my dad’s.”
“But we’re going to—”
“And we still will.” He nodded, but his eyes had gone unreadable again. Like they’d been before she’d really started getting to know him. “You can come out later, if you want to. We’ll be there all afternoon.”
“Yeah?” The last thing she wanted him to do was tell his family about them alone. But she also couldn’t exactly tell her dad to come back tomorrow.
“Yeah.” His tone went soft, and he pressed a kiss to the side of her head. “You have a good day with your dad, and I’ll see you later.” His voice lowered to a whisper then. “But I do need to borrow your car key so I can go pick up my truck.”
Oh, geez. She hadn’t even thought of that. His truck was parked at Brooke’s. “Sure.” She didn’t look at either of them as she rummaged through her bag and came up with her keys. “Just don’t mess up my mess in there,” she teased him, aware that he found it hilarious that for a woman who kept lists and could be so methodical about some things, her organizational system for the stuff inside her car was nil.
“I’ll be sure and do that,” he said drolly. He kissed the side of her head again, nodded to her dad, and said, “It was nice meeting you, Mr. Manning,” then he was gone. And she was left facing her dad alone.
“Wilde?” he repeated, and the judgmental tone suddenly made her snap.
“Yes,” she bit out. “Wilde. Nate Wilde. And I love him, Dad. And you were rude and a jerk to him.”
“I wasn’t anything to him.”
“And that was rude,” she tossed back. She slung an arm out toward the picture window in the living room as her little red car drove off on the other side of it, and her voice took on even more heat. “You could have shown some decency and been polite to the man that I’m dating.”
“And you could quit acting like your mother and chasing men all over the country.”
* * *
Megan was still fuming. After her father had accused her of chasing men all over the country, she’d calmly explained that she hadn’t chased Jaden anywhere. They’d made a decision as a couple to move somewhere together, and they’d done that only after she’d first visited the town and had fallen in love with it. They’d never even discussed it before that. And then she’d stayed because she’d fallen in love with the town even more. With the people. But the man still wasn’t getting it. He was still trying to sell her on the new position he was certain he could get for her.
They’d left her place shortly after her explanation and had headed for the café in town, and as she’d sat while her father had eaten—while he was still eating—she’d tried to work up the courage to tell him that she’d decided to move out of that field completely.
He wouldn’t let her get in two words, though. He just kept talking about how much she could accomplish if only she’d situate herself within the right company.
“Dad.”
He finally looked up from his soup. “What?”
“I quit my programming job.”
“You what?” He put down his spoon. “That’s fine, I suppose. You’d have to eventually anyway.”
“No. I quit it three months ago. I don’t want to be in that field anymore.” She’d thought that maybe the direct approach would be best, but if she were to guess from the look on his face, he still didn’t get it.
“I don’t understand,” he said. “If you don’t have a job, then why didn’t you send me your resume for that AI position in Chicago?”
When he started to scoop up more soup, she reached over and placed her hand over his, and his gaze met hers.
“I do not want to be in the computer field. No science field. Not technology of any sort.”
“But you’re good at it. I’ve talked to your professors.”
At that, she sat back. “You talked to what professors?”
“From college. And grad school. You’re good. You had several job offers from your first round of resumes. Your rate of success was unheard of.”
She’d had no idea he’d ever talked to anyone she’d taken a class from. Nor that he’d paid attention to the email where she’d listed
the offers she’d once gotten. He’d barely replied with a simple “congrats.”
“I am good,” she agreed. “But it’s not what I want to do with my life.”
“And what do you want to do?” He seemed to think about his own question for a moment, then his brow wrinkled. “You want to do retail? Is that why you moved here?”
“I moved here because I loved the town,” she explained again. “Because it was the first place in a long time that felt like home.” And that felt like a place she wanted to make a home.
“But you had a home.”
“Really?” she asked. “Where?”
He went quiet for a moment, his brow remaining ridged. Then he said, “Seattle.”
She shook her head. “Not Seattle. I lived in Seattle because that’s where I was going to school. And do you want to know why I went to school in Seattle?”
“I would assume because you liked what the school had to offer.”
She shook her head again. “The school was fine. Their offerings were fine. But I could have liked many schools. I chose Seattle because that’s where you were. Because I’d hoped to get to see you more often. I’d hoped you’d want to see me.”
“Of course I wanted to see you.”
“When?”
Again, he went quiet, and she just sat there, refusing to fill the void. She wanted an answer to her question. When, exactly, had he wanted to see her?
“When, Dad?”
“I . . .” He seemed to be thinking back. Realizing that he’d rarely put her first. And not at all in a very long time.
“You didn’t. And I still don’t understand why. I’ve tried my best to make you happy, but nothing ever changed.”
“But I’ve always been happy with you.”
She didn’t have a response for that. She could say that actions speak louder than words, but she suspected he knew it. He just hadn’t fully accepted it yet.
“I’ve tried my best,” she said again. “And I’ve never felt like I succeeded. So, I’m finished trying.” She thought about what Brooke had said to her a couple of weeks before. About what her friend’s words had implied. She was hanging in limbo, reaching out, trying anything and everything that interested her. But she still wasn’t fully happy. She still hadn’t found her thing. “I’m not helping at The Cherry Basket, Dad. I’m running it. And I enjoy doing that. But no, retail isn’t what I want to do with my life, either. The thing is, I don’t know what I want to do. Because I was always so busy trying to win your approval.”