See Megan Run

by Melissa Blue

  Instead he’d grown into this man with wide shoulders, rough hands, and a mouth that made her want to sin. Her breasts felt full and heavy against his hard chest. Anger and passion made the kiss last longer than it should have. Oh, and it didn’t feel like he was trying to punish her with his lips. No, more like he was laying claim to what was once his. The passion spread like a drug through her veins, making her head reel. It made her want. The alien emotion shocked her more than the moan rising in her throat. The sound must have brought Aiden back to his senses, because he tore his mouth from hers.

  The sound of their breath coming out in hard gasps filled the silence. She stumbled back, trying to get her thoughts to congeal. The intensity of the kiss rendered her mute. Aiden rubbed his hands over his face. His amber eyes took her in and she wondered if her shock resembled the expression on his face. He shook his head, disgust clouding his features. Without speaking, he turned and headed for the road. Megan placed a hand over her speeding heart.

  "Welcome home to you, too," she said to his fading shadow.

  *****

  He should have turned the hell around when he saw Megan’s profile in the setting sun. Well, give him some credit, his steps had faltered, but the dumb part of him, the part that never got the memo about their breakup, made him keep walking toward her like Megan was a beacon of light.

  Beacon of light, my ass.

  When it dawned on him which tree they were under, he should have told her dinner was ready and left with his head and hormones on the same page.

  Same page, my ass.

  He could still taste her on his tongue. She tasted of cherries and trouble, and for those brief moments he’d reveled in it, comparing and committing it to his memory. Screw oysters or chocolate, a hundred-year-old oak was a damn aphrodisiac. He pinched the bridge of his nose. What an idiot. He’d succumbed as easily as if she’d crooked her finger at him. The sound of disgust filled the quiet. Aiden continued walking.

  Headlights shone on the moist dirt in front of him. Aiden moved closer to the shoulder of the road. The driver honked the horn, and he turned to see a beat-up Cadillac. Just what he needed, his mother. She stopped, leaning over the seat to roll down the window.

  "What are you doing out here so late?"

  "I was heading home and decided to clear my head by walking." He opened the car door and sat down.

  Jocelyn wasn’t looking at him but out her window toward the lake and the aphrodisiac oak. She turned back to him. "No wonder you’re a cop. You’re a horrible liar."

  Being a good liar was the least of his problems. "Can you take me home?"

  She put the car in drive, then said, "I’m not going to ask." Aiden counted up to thirty seconds.

  "It’s Megan, isn’t it? Don’t tell me it’s her again. I know you used to love her, but she’s not worth the heartache."

  He’d wagered to himself it would take a whole minute to break her, but these circumstances called for impatience. "You think that about every woman I’ve dated."

  "No, just Megan." She shook her head, but kept her eyes on the road. "You’re stalling. It is about her."

  He understood her worry. Only Shep and his mother knew how Megan’s leaving had affected him. No, he hadn’t spiraled into a depression, but the day she left him he stopped being a naïve boy. He’d grown into a man who didn’t take on unnecessary responsibilities, a wife and kids being the last on that list. Sooner or later you had to grow up anyway and stop believing in fantasies. Being married to Megan happened to be one of his. His mother saw his way as giving up. Aiden disagreed.

  He looked out the window to his neighborhood, hoping it’d help him forget how dumb he was. His mother shifted beside him, and he finally answered her question. "My life doesn’t revolve around Megan, so it’s not about her." Unfortunately, only a good portion revolved around Megan.

  "So you walking home at seven o’clock at night, not far from the Hazley estate, I might add, has nothing to do with Megan?"

  Aiden decided a sign would get his point across. He’d wear it around his neck—I’m over her—in case some of the friendly members of the city wanted to ask about the state of his mind. Aiden sighed when his mother stopped the car in front of his house. "I’ve had a long day." And lost my mind at the very end of it.

  His mother reached over and turned his face to hers. The brown eyes he’d inherited from her studied his face. They were filled with worry. "Just tell me you’re going to be okay?"

  He placed his hand over hers. "I’ll be fine."

  At least this time he’d be prepared when Megan walked away. There wouldn’t be any of his hopes to be backed over with a Mack truck on her way out of the city limits.

  The worry stayed in his mother’s eyes, but she smiled. "That’s a better lie. I think I’m going to go have dinner with my brother."

  Aiden made a mental note to turn off his phone when he got inside. "Have seconds for me."

  He leaned over and kissed her cheek. The skin had softened with time, but she was still beautiful and single. He wondered for a moment if her understanding of how he felt went past a mother’s intuition. "I’ll see you later."

  Aiden stood on the curb and watched her car until he couldn’t see it any more. Then he went into the house and turned off his phone.

  Chapter 6

  "What? Why would I know where Aiden is?"

  Megan had to cool it or they’d smell the pheromones on her. Jane’s hand paused, one suspicious brow raised as she set the plate in front of Megan. From experience Megan knew Jane of all people could smell the thought of sex at fifty paces.

  "Thank you," Megan said pointedly, lifting her fork, trying for cool and knowing she was failing.

  Nicole cleared her throat. "I sent him to go get you for dinner."

  Megan stuffed her mouth to prevent the white lie of not seeing him, because in truth she hadn’t. She had felt him, tasted him, smelled him, but at some point her vision had blurred. Don’t dwell on it, you idiot. She shrugged as if to answer.

  It would never happen again.

  It could never happen again.

  Jane made a noncommittal noise when the doorbell rang, while a part of Megan prayed Aiden had come back and the other part knew she’d choke on her food if her thoughts kept going down the road they wanted to. The side that had gone without sex for—how long? She couldn’t recall—was the side craving the feel of Aiden’s sweat-soaked body against hers, wanting to know how much of a man he’d grown into. Aiden was her ex, but the kiss had been so good. Heat rushed to her face. She did not want to have sex with him. Well…she did, but wouldn’t. No matter how hot and right he’d feel against her. Megan reached for the glass of water to help the chicken down her parched throat. A good thing she’d already swallowed when the guest walked in.

  "Coiffed" was the first word that came to mind, followed by "regal," shortly followed by "terrifying." Aiden’s mother stood in the arch of the doorway. Her ebony skin had softened, but her eyes, Aiden’s eyes, stared Megan down. Megan finished her glass of water, wishing for something stronger. If she couldn’t have whiskey, she’d take Chardonnay.

  Nicole stood, and the royal blue peasant skirt swished as she went to give Jocelyn a hug. They exchanged pleasantries. Megan watched in surprise at the genuine smiles on both women’s faces.

  "Hey, baby sis," Shep said.

  Nicole pulled out a chair for Jocelyn and then returned to her own. Of course the mother from hell gave her guest the seat directly across from Megan’s. Jocelyn placed the cloth napkin on her lap and nodded to Jane when the plate was set in front of her.

  "I was passing by and decided a good meal was what I needed. I dropped Aiden off at home. He wasn’t feeling well." One sleek brow rose in challenge.

  Just kill me now, Megan thought. If that was the code word for horny, then, no, he didn’t feel well at all. As a matter of fact, Megan wasn’t feeling so good, either. The baked chicken refused to move down her throat. Chardonnay would no longer suffice, bu
t she’d settle for a glass of vodka. It looked enough like water to fool them.

  "That’s too bad," Nicole said, with actual worry filling her voice.

  Megan didn’t have to wonder whose side her mother was on. Megan glanced at Shep. He’d taken the same high road she had. He resembled a chipmunk from all the food in his mouth.

  "Megan, I hear you’re going to be a part of the bridal party," Jocelyn remarked.

  "Dragged and beaten, but yes."

  Jocelyn didn’t even crack a smile. Food, fork, mouth seemed like the only game plan Megan had in her arsenal. She gave Jocelyn credit for being a mother bear and for having caught Megan off her A-game. It didn’t matter. Nicole must have cut out her own mother bear instincts with a rusty blade, because she didn’t seem bothered by the feral gleam in Jocelyn’s eyes. Megan kept stuffing her mouth, seeing an empty plate as her only way to avoid "the talk" sure to come.

  "You started a clothing store, right?"

  The game plan was getting stuck in her throat. She swallowed hard. "The Boutique." Good, a safe subject. Megan could wax poetic about her store. "It’s targeted toward women. Right now I’m getting ready for the winter season. When I get back I’m going to start stocking boots, scarves, and coats."

  "Doing well, I suspect. You were always a bright girl in school."

  Jocelyn poised her knife and fork over the chicken breast, making Megan feel like a barbarian for using only her fork. Uncanny, really, how Jocelyn made Megan feel inferior without saying a word. It had absolutely nothing to do with guilt for leaving this woman’s son.

  "It’s doing really well. Maybe in a few years I’ll branch out and have a chain of stores."

  "Still not planning on staying?" Jocelyn placed into her mouth the smallest bite of chicken Megan had ever seen. Dainty, deadly, coiffed, and regal.

  Megan was doomed.

  "I haven’t decided how I’ll work it out. The Boutique is..." my life. "Very important to me. I’ve sacrificed a lot to get it open and keep it open. It’s something I’m very proud of."

  Jocelyn made a noncommittal noise. Megan realized how she sounded, but she couldn’t seem to shut up, either. Common sense told Megan to excuse herself and get the hell out of Dodge. When had she ever listened to reason?

  Now would be a good time.

  "So you’ll be living here part time?"

  Megan could see the cowards, her mother and Shep, in her peripheral vision, plowing through their plates. "I don’t know. The idea of living here...my life is in the city." Megan blew out a breath. She hadn’t thought past getting the house. She repeated. "I don’t know."

  "You’re going to let the house sit empty?"

  Jocelyn might as well have added, "Seems wasteful, you ingrate," but that would be too direct, even though Jocelyn could be direct, if she wanted.

  "I’m trying to get through to the wedding," Megan replied. And did the whole town know her mother had to bribe her to stay? Who needs paparazzi, when you have small towns?

  Dismissing her with one last glance, Jocelyn made small talk with Nicole. Megan finished her meal without fanfare, only slightly disappointed at the new relationship between herself and Jocelyn. At one time Megan had been able to tell Jocelyn her secrets, her fears, the things she couldn’t muster up the bravery to tell Jane. Now it felt as though, if given the chance, Jocelyn would gladly stab her with one of the bobby pins holding up her hair. Did no one have a clue why she’d had to leave the way she did?

  It didn’t matter. She’d be leaving again, coming back only to visit Jane and to make sure squatters hadn’t moved into her father’s house. Or staying a few weeks when she needed a break from work. Well, if she ever took another break from work.

  She stabbed the baked chicken with her fork. She would take another vacation. Soon. She just had to make it a priority to come back to her father’s house. Otherwise she was an ingrate.

  She speared the last piece of chicken and noticed how warm and open Jocelyn’s features were, now that she was talking to someone else.

  Megan was the outsider, no matter how much her mother tried to fit her back in. Funny, it’d been the other way around when she was growing up, and it was childish of Megan to want it back to the way it was then. The conversation blossomed around her about the wedding and about Reggie, who was one half of the Baker boys, being arrested for fighting in Tessa’s and having to spend a night in jail. Yes, definitely an outsider, without any invitation to be a part of them. That was okay. She had her own life at The Boutique. And at The Boutique... Twenty-six more days, she reminded herself. It couldn’t matter. Megan planned to leave Riverbed again unscathed.

  *****

  Aiden unlocked the precinct’s door and was greeted with the smell of stale coffee and feet. He left the door open to get a breeze and collapsed in his chair, closing his eyes. Day two, and sleep still avoided him at night. This time he at least had a reason. Every time he closed his eyes and drifted, there was Megan again, but this time he knew how soft her skin felt under his callused hands. He knew how her moan of pleasure affected him. He knew more about his former ex than allowed for comfort.

  He leaned back, about to put his feet on his desk, when he heard a noise in the back where the overnight cells were. His dilemma slipped from his mind and he groaned like an old man as his body protested the movement required to stand. He yawned and stretched and listened at the door leading to the back.

  "Somebody out there?" a gruff voice asked.

  Aiden frowned, then grimaced. Reggie. He went back to his desk and took out the keys to the jail cells. Reggie had his hands clenched around the bars. "I had to sleep on this concrete slab, because you forgot about me."

  And still Reg looked better rested than Aiden. "Sorry about that, but you needed some time to cool off. You are not as young as you used to be, and starting fights at Tessa’s—"

  "Save it." Reg turned to retrieve his jacket from the cot. "This has everything to do with that Megan girl you used to be tied to."

  Aiden opened his mouth to deny, but the old man pulled himself up to his full height. Aiden tilted his head back and listened.

  "And Shep should have put things to rights when you sat me in the back of that cruiser. Man’s gone soft, once he got that Miller girl."

  Aiden stuffed his hands in his pockets, figuring he deserved this lecture. He’d been letting his emotions run him ever since he pulled Megan over. He should have towed her car. If he had, his world would have been set back to rights.

  "Again, Mr. Baker, I apologize."

  Reg snorted and passed him on the way to the office. "Don’t ‘Mr. Baker’ me. Now, I promise to start no ruckus at Tessa’s anymore." He turned to Aiden. "I’ll get her some flowers as an apology, but if you come near me with handcuffs ever again, I’m gonna have a talk with your mama."

  "Yes, sir."

  "Don’t ‘sir’ me," Reg grumbled.

  Was this not proof on how far he’d gone? Aiden shook his head. If it wasn’t wedding-related, he wasn’t showing up to any function, house, tree, where he knew Megan would be. "I hope you accept my apology."

  Reg grunted. "Accepted."

  As a parting shot, he slammed the door on his way out. Aiden sighed and propped his feet on his desk, closed his eyes once again and squelched all thoughts of Megan. He didn’t have to see her until the wedding rehearsal. He’d have to cook his own meals from now on, because even with a gun to his head he wasn’t going to Nicole’s house anymore. Well…maybe he could get Shep to bring him a plate. He’d started to doze off at the compromise when he heard the door open.

  "I hope I’m not catching you at a bad time." The soft, seductive voice penetrated through to his sleep-deprived brain. Well, shit. Aiden conceded he wouldn’t get a wink of sleep until she was gone.

  "Megan."

  He wanted to see how she looked today, and because he did Aiden kept his eyes closed. She must have moved closer, because his next deep breath was filled with the scent of her. Since he wasn’t masoch
istic, he opened his eyes. The blunt ends of her bangs accentuated her chocolate brown eyes. They were wide with uncertainty.

  "We need to come to a truce."

  Aiden crossed his arms. "Truce?"

  "The argument we had yesterday."

  "And?"

  Her eyes narrowed, but she kept her tone even. "I don’t think Shep and my mother would appreciate us fighting down the aisle during their wedding. You’re the best man and I’m the maiden of honor. We’re stuck for the duration. I think it would be better if we tried to get along."

  He relaxed, seeing the pros of the situation, until she spoke again. "I know the way I left may not have endeared me to you, but I think it’s worth a try. We don’t have to be friends again. At best we can be mature about the situation and be amicable toward each other."

  Aiden gritted his teeth. What was with everyone and the past? And amicable? She was asking for him to push her buttons. "What you did is in the past." He matched her even tone. " I haven’t thought about it in years. If you hadn’t showed up I wouldn’t have thought twice about you."

  Her eyebrows rose in disbelief. Too late, he remembered his mother’s observation on his being a horrible liar.

  Megan mirrored his stance and crossed her arms. "And what was yesterday?"

  Me, needing to touch you. The urge had become too much for him to fight, with her being close enough for him to finally touch again. " A mistake."

  It was. He intended to keep her at arm’s length, if for no other reason than to keep his sanity this time, when she left. "It won’t happen again. Trust me, it was an error in judgment on both our parts."

  Aiden should have known better than to offer the words as a challenge. Twelve years had passed, and Megan hadn’t changed that much. She stepped closer. His heart thudded at the close proximity. I’m not going to touch her. I’m not…

  "I’m glad to have this understanding." She placed a hand on his feet propped on the desk. "But are you sure that you would say ‘never again’?"