by Melissa Blue
"Please tell Jane this was a wonderful meal," Shep was saying to Nicole, with a nod to Aiden.
No, his uncle was far from slow. Aiden hugged Nicole, nodded to Megan, and then made his way out the door, breathing easier until his uncle spoke again.
"You didn’t tell me you saw Megan."
"I stopped her on a traffic violation a few days ago." Aiden focused on getting into the car, ignoring his uncle’s bland expression.
"She’s all grown up." Shep folded his thick body into the car. For a man over the age of forty-five, he kept up well. No wonder he was able to snag Nicole’s attention. Still, it didn’t stop the friction to come.
"Look at her. She has her own business. Nicole told me she started it from the ground up after she received her business degree."
Aiden made a noncommittal sound as his uncle went on about the greatness of Megan. Bitter wasn’t a word he liked to associate with himself, but the more Shep rambled, the more old, dead and buried feelings started to rise up in him. All he heard was how she’d left him to live this grand life. Men weren’t supposed to feel jilted, right?
On and on his uncle went, until Aiden pointed out, "Nicole didn’t tell her about you guys."
Aiden’s words stopped Shep in his tracks. His uncle’s hands flexed over the steering wheel. Aiden only felt guilt for a moment, because it was the truth. Nicole still had ways about her that didn’t fit the changed woman she’d become.
"You of all people know how Megan is," Shep countered.
Dead and gone meant nothing to his uncle. "You of all people should know Nicole." He glanced out the window as his uncle pulled up to his house. He turned to Shep’s sigh.
"Why do you think I hightailed it out of there?"
Aiden chuckled. "At least love hasn’t changed you that much."
Shep placed a hand on his shoulder before he got out of the car. I should have moved faster.
"Son, I know you and Megan have a history."
"And that’s exactly where it is." His tone closed off all conversation. His shoulders tensed, but Shep nodded, letting the subject drop. Good, because he was over Megan.
As he watched his uncle drive off, Aiden breathed in the cool air of the night, thinking sooner or later his heart would get the same message.
*****
"Shep," Megan started. "You’re marrying Shep."
"You make it sound like I shouldn’t be with him."
"No, you shouldn’t."
Nicole lifted her hands. "When you get like this there is no talking to you."
Color rose in Nicole’s cheeks. Good, Nicole’s own temper wasn’t bottled up like she’d wanted Megan to believe.
"We are getting married. I love him, and that’s the end of that."
"Shep." Megan moved in front of her mother, blocking the way to the stairs. "He’s a good man. Shep was a good father to Aiden when his father passed." Megan kept to herself that Shep was also a good parent to her when Nicole had checked out. The subject was just too volatile.
Nicole shoulder’s sagged. "He was always nice to me, and when I got over Taylor he helped me around the house, and then..."
Jesus, the one-thing-led-to-another speech. "Mother, when were you going to tell me? At the wedding?"
Nicole lifted her chin. "I want you to be the maiden of honor."
"What?" Megan inspected her mother. Nicole’s eyes weren’t dilated, nor did she wipe her nose continually, or have track marks on her arms, so no outright signs of drug use. "Your maiden of honor? Is this a part of the deal for me to get the house? Because if that’s the case, then I’m walking." She hoped her mother wouldn’t call her bluff.
"No, I told you all you have to do is be here for the wedding. But I thought it’d be nice." Nicole took in a breath. "I don’t have anyone else to be my maiden of honor."
A low blow, but she had to give it to her mother, the woman was a professional when it came to guilt trips. Her mother could teach a class on it. Lesson One: There is never a bad time to use guilt, especially when trying to talk your child into something they really don’t want to do. Only one word could deflect the guilt, and it wasn’t you-can’t-make-me.
Megan climbed the stairs away from her mother and said, "No."
"Can you at least think about it?"
Megan kept going. "I’m still trying to figure out how you tricked Shep into marrying you."
"I’m sorry you feel that way about me. I’m sorry."
It would have been so easy to fall back on being the bitch, so tempting to spew all the old animosities she’d built up over twelve years. Instead, Megan turned back to her mother.
"The answer will stay no. I don’t forgive you for what you did. You still haven’t admitted you kicked me out over a man." Megan’s hand clutched the railing, and she tried to calm the shaking in her limbs. "I’m here for the house and the house only. I’ve agreed to your terms, and don’t ask me to do more, because I will walk." And maybe there was a little pinch around her heart when she saw her mother’s eyes start to glisten.
"I was hoping… " Nicole shook her head. "The wedding will be here soon enough for you."
Her mother turned and went out the door. Megan flinched at the loud click it made. Jane came out of the foyer. Megan had forgotten nothing was private or off limits from gossip or eavesdropping in this place. She had better remember while she was here, or the whole town would know by noon.
"You’re not licking the spoon," Jane finally said, after boring holes into Megan with her eyes. Then she nodded her head and went back toward the kitchen.
Twenty-seven more days of her mother, and of Aiden. She wouldn’t last a week if this kept up. "That seems to be my life story," Megan said to Jane’s retreating back.
Chapter 3
What in the hell am I doing here? Megan asked herself the next morning as she poured a cup of coffee. Diva Nicole had yet to awake, and the few quiet moments were precious. Her elbows resting on the cold marble island, she realized this morning was different. She wasn’t getting the store ready for opening. She didn’t have to work out the store’s budget. Nor did she have to worry about if and when the next shipment of clothes would arrive. Megan hated the listless feeling.
She saw herself as a doer. Could she survive sitting around, twiddling her thumbs, for the next twenty-six days? Megan sighed. Her only option would be to help her mother prepare for the wedding. She pressed a hand against her uneasy stomach at the prospect. To be honest, Megan knew she was being judgmental. Shep—God, she loved Shep. He was the closest thing to a father she had, next to her own father. Shep was the one thing Aiden and she still shared. If Shep was intent on marrying her mother, they’d be married. The man had a will that only divine intervention could stop.
Megan welcomed the first hit of caffeine to her system as more options filtered through her brain. She could be a nice, loving, forgiving daughter. She had to take another sip of coffee with the thought. It definitely wouldn’t be easy, but it would make the month go by much more quickly. If she accepted that option, then she’d have to admit the years of believing cynically that leopards were unable to change their spots had finally made her a disbelieving shrew.
Megan clasped her hands around the warmth permeating from the cup. Or she could continue the cold war and wait out her month. The days would stretch before her as she waited for the other shoe to drop. The only old-Nicole-like behavior she had witnessed consisted of her mother making them eat at the dinner table. She didn’t have any reason not to trust her mother. Yet she’d been conditioned to distrust. Different leopard, but just as many spots.
The sound of shuffling slippers made her look up. Shadows bruised the skin beneath Nicole’s eyes. That little pinch started again, and by God Megan intended to ignore it. The only responsibility she held was to herself. She had made sure over the years it stayed that way, although somehow Lynne had snuck a way into her heart. The pinch turned into an ache when Nicole said a soft good morning. How long could she hold a grudge a
gainst her mother?
"What’s on your agenda today?" Apparently, not very long.
Nicole’s downtrodden expression transformed into surprise. "Um, well, I need to get another set of fittings done on the wedding dress. I’m supposed to be there in two hours. Do you want to come with me? We can find you a dress."
By "dress" her mother meant one for Megan as the maiden of honor. Everything in her said, No, No, No, but that stupid little pinch sank its claws in at the hope-filled tone.
The traitorous words left her mouth before she could stop them. "I’ll be delighted."
Her mother’s smile at the three words Megan spoke almost made up for her bitchiness. She’d forgotten how much of a knockout Nicole was when she turned on the 100-watts. The dark depths of Nicole’s eyes lightened. Megan understood how good old Shep would fall hard into them and offer her mother marriage. Most men didn’t have the balls to fight that look.
"Are you sure? Because you don’t have to. I won’t hold it against you."
"The whole community would," Megan muttered into her cup. By now many upstanding citizens of Riverbed would know of her presence, would be speculating on the bloodshed, and no doubt expecting to see fireworks between Aiden and herself again. They’d been one name growing up, much like Bennifer, because you didn’t see one without the other. Was getting her father’s house worth it?
Megan glanced at the walls, the same peach-like color, the same fairy wallpaper trim. It was the home she had loved more than anything, growing up. What was that saying? If these walls could talk, they’d speak of the short-lived happiness her father had brought into her life. They’d talk about the soft, buttery pancakes he used to make for them in this room. Yes, it would have to be, or why else would she subject herself to her mother, to Aiden, and to the silent questions he refused to ask her? Yes. Yes, it was.
"It’s the least I can do while I’m here," Megan said louder.
"Doesn’t sound very delighted." Nicole’s smile didn’t falter. "But I’ll take what I can get. We have so much to catch up on. I was thinking a pastels theme."
Pastels? Dear baby Jesus, what had she signed herself up for?
"No need to panic." Nicole kept chattering. "I have good taste."
Megan forced a smile. "Absolutely delighted." Pastels?
*****
Aiden rested his feet on his desk. He was already in a piss-poor mood. Sleep hadn’t come easy the night before, and when he did get some sleep all he saw was Megan’s face. In his dreams she touched him like she used to. Aiden closed his eyes as the exhaustion pulled at his eyelids, and he saw her again as if he were dreaming. The sigh settled in his chest. It was going to be a very long month.
He tensed when he heard the door close. "Morning, Shep."
Shep’s steps were measured. Something had happened. "We have to go break up a brawl at Tessa’s."
"The Mackin brothers?" Aiden said, grabbing his badge.
Shep snorted. "The Baker boys."
Aiden’s hand paused around the cool metal. "Baker—as, in their seventies—boys?"
Shep hung the extra pair of cuffs to his belt. "Correct."
It was going to be one of those mornings, Aiden decided. He followed Shep out to the cruiser, mentally preparing himself for trying not to break any of the older men’s fragile bones.
Less than two minutes later, the car skidded to a halt. Tessa’s Bar and Gab sat on the outskirts of Riverbed. The building looked more like it should be condemned than like the hottest spot in town.
The roof sagged forward, casting a shadow over the fine-grained dirt surrounding the shack-like structure. Aiden couldn’t see past the front glass window, blackened from years of cigarette smoke. The swinging door squeaked when Shep opened it. Aiden heard the raised voices of the brothers before he saw Tessa standing between them. Gray hairs peppered the once-ebony shade of the taut ponytail that made her look more Native American than African American.
At a glance, you wouldn’t think someone who barely made it to your chest could put the fear of God into a man’s heart, but he’d seen her at work. The Baker brothers, too, had seen her at work, and Aiden could bet that was the reason the men were no longer fighting.
"About damn time you made it," Tessa huffed. The moment she stepped back from between them, Reggie took a swing at his brother.
"Hell," Aiden muttered and grabbed Reggie by the cuff of his collar. The old man gagged and his swinging arm went to his throat. Aiden let go.
"You didn’t have to choke me, boy."
"You didn’t have to fight in Tessa’s." Aiden pointed out. "I’m sure you have plenty of room down at the Baker farm to kill each other at will."
Shep held up his hand. "May I ask what happened?" He ignored Greg’s sputtered start as he stated the question to Tessa.
"I’m pulling a draft, and Reggie here takes a swing at Greg. I don’t know what started these two old coots at it, but they better be glad there wasn’t any damage." She wrinkled her nose in disgust but added, "I don’t want to press charges."
Shep pushed Greg down onto the bar stool. "And what happened?"
"He said… " Reggie started.
"Hush, Reggie," Aiden ordered. "You don’t want to push your luck." Reggie stuffed his hands in his pockets.
Greg shook his head. "We were talking about the last baseball game, and he said the Red Sox didn’t have a chance in hell. He said the Yankees"—the words were laced with venom—"would shut them out in the first four games."
Aiden shook his head.
Shep turned his gaze to Reggie. "And did you punch him?"
"He said the Yankees were a bunch of yuppies in uniforms and what should he expect from people who live in New York."
Aiden stared at the man in disbelief. They were pulled out here over baseball. Fighting over a woman he almost understood—it depended on the woman—but baseball? "You’re under arrest for disturbing the peace."
"What?" Reggie and Shep said simultaneously.
Aiden continued. "You have the right to remain silent."
"Aiden." Shep stepped forward. Aiden placed the handcuffs on the old man and pushed him toward the door.
"What is he doing?" he heard Greg say. "I mean, I’m mad at him and all, but arresting him?"
"Aiden." He didn’t pause at the steel in Shep’s voice as he walked out to the car. Aiden opened the back door and helped Reggie into the seat.
"I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but this isn’t like you," his prisoner complained.
Aiden’s jaw tightened at the accurate observation. He hadn’t been himself since he allowed Megan to drive off without a speeding ticket. He definitely hadn’t been feeling his usual self since he touched her. His disposition had gone downhill from there. Aiden shook off the thoughts and said, "Yeah, well, put your foot in so I can close the door."
Reggie scowled, but did as he was asked. Aiden turned to see it wouldn’t be as easy with his uncle. He stepped in front of the door.
"What do you think you are doing?"
Aiden crossed his arms, ready for battle. "I’m trying to keep the peace."
"You think arresting a seventy-year-old man will keep the streets of Riverbed safe?"
"It’ll keep order. I don’t think you realize how many people are about to descend on us." Aiden continued when confusion clouded his uncle’s face.
"How many cousins do I have?"
"At least twenty that live in the state."
"If I’m not mistaken, won’t my other aunts and uncles, my cousins and their boyfriends and girlfriends be here, too? And let’s not forget old acquaintances of yours whom I’m sure you’ve invited to the wedding. All of them," Aiden emphasized, "are starting to trickle in for the sideshow."
"Wedding," Shep corrected.
"Same difference, when it comes to family."
Shep’s brows furrowed. "What does this have to do with you arresting Reg?"
"We are making a statement. Let’s not forget he did break the law."
>
Shep mimicked Aiden’s movement and crossed his arms. At his uncle’s deadpan expression Aiden realized a moment too late he’d loaded that last line with too much b.s.
"And this arrest has nothing to do with the crappy mood you’ve been in all morning?"
If Aiden paused, his uncle would think he was lying. If he answered with absolute certainty, his uncle would think he was lying. He couldn’t win, so he settled on, "I wouldn’t be making an arrest to brighten my mood."
"Is Megan going to be a problem?"
She was never the problem. For Aiden she was his solution and that was the problem. He’d planned out his life with her in it, and when she left, so did that ideal. He’d settled down to a satisfying career. He avoided serious relationships and kept things simple.
The way he lived proved he was fine. He was over her. He was man enough to admit the thought of her still tied him in knots. And maybe he was a little angry at how easily she’d waltzed back into his life. He rolled his shoulders and could feel Reggie’s glare through the backseat window.
"Are you with me on this arrest or not?" He replied without answering Shep’s question. People who held torches for twelve years were likely to get burned.
Shep sighed. "I’m going to get hell for this."
The tension keeping his stomach tight loosened, but he knew he hadn’t fooled his uncle. Shep just wasn’t ready to dive into those piranha-infested waters. Aiden went with the silent omission. "You are the Chief."
Shep turned to see half of the occupants of Tessa’s standing at the door. "Dammit."
For some reason the epithet made Aiden feel so much better.
Chapter 4
Megan closed the door to her old bedroom before dialing The Boutique’s private line and sank onto the bed as the phone rang. At Lynne’s upbeat greeting, Megan collapsed backward into the welter of pink pillows. "Is everything okay there?"