Unforgettable Heroes II Boxed Set

by Elizabeth Bevarly

  She suspected that wasn’t the only thing Matt hadn’t thought of. “What about winter? You planning to leave nice, warm Phoenix to come up here and shovel my sidewalk?” His mouth tightened. “I didn’t think so.”

  “I thought you might spend the winter with me.”

  Escaping winter storms? Now that was a tempting thought. Too bad it wouldn’t work. “You think I can just take a three-month leave of absence from my job?”

  “This year? Yes.” He rested his hand on her abdomen. “It’s called maternity leave.”

  Three months? Ha. “I’ll be lucky to get three weeks.”

  “That’s unacceptable. Want me to go in and talk to your boss?”

  She pulled the Bug into a parking space at the hotel and sat there, staring at Matt. He was sounding more and more like her father, accusing her of incompetence. “When did you become Mr. Take Charge?”

  He plowed on, somehow oblivious to her increasing irritation. “If you don’t think you can get the full leave coming to you, I’ll intercede on your behalf.”

  “And what makes you think my boss will listen to you?” Before she even finished asking the question, she started willing him not to say, “because I’m a man.”

  “Easy.” He waggled his eyebrows. “You forgot I’m big-name talent at your agency.”

  Meg burst out laughing, as he’d no doubt intended. It was nice to be with someone who didn’t take himself too seriously. Someone who could make her laugh even when she didn’t feel like laughing. “How could I forget something like that?”

  Chapter Ten

  “I can’t believe it’s already Friday,” Meg complained to Stephanie. Her eyes didn’t leave home plate. Matt was down there, doing what he did best…well, second best, at least, she corrected with a grin.

  “Usually you’re glad when Friday rolls around, especially when the weather’s this gorgeous.” From the corner of her eye, she saw Steph gesture toward the cloudless blue sky.

  The corners of her mouth turned down. Neither the beautiful spring day nor the fact that the Condors were up by three runs was enough to improve this afternoon. “Not when it means it’s Matt’s last night in town.”

  Steph echoed her sigh. “I’m going to miss Greg, too.”

  Now that was enough to tear Meg’s attention away from Matt. She swiveled to face her friend. “Does that mean you two—”

  Stephanie held up her hand. “He’s still holding out for some reason known only to himself and maybe the Almighty. But that doesn’t mean I won’t miss the guy. We’ve been spending every spare minute together for the last two-plus weeks. In fact, these last few days have been amazing,” She paused to look around, and Meg followed her gaze to where Greg stood.

  “I think he really likes me, Meg,” Steph went on. “ME. Not my boobs or butt or any other body part, but all of me.”

  Meg took the time to really look at Stephanie. Her eyes were clear and her smile was bright. She seemed completely relaxed…happy, even. “I’m happy for you if you’re happy.”

  Steph laughed. “Oh, I’m ecstatic—even if you are getting more action than I am.”

  Meg’s happiness was fleeting at the reminder Matt would be gone in a few hours. She’d come to depend on him in the last few days. “What am I going to do when Matt’s gone?”

  Stephanie raised one perfectly groomed eyebrow. “Spend time getting reacquainted with BOB, I’d imagine.”

  Ah-ha. There was the Stephanie she knew, the one who enjoyed life’s sensual side. Still, Meg was unimpressed by the mention of her battery-operated boyfriend. “It’s not all about the sex, Steph.”

  “Coulda fooled me.”

  “We don’t always tear each other’s clothes off and jump into bed.” Most of the time wasn’t always. They spent some time in the real world.

  “Good. Because that’s what you had with Tim—and look where that got you.”

  The comment reminded her Steph didn’t know about the baby yet. “Umm, about that—”

  Her friend’s eyes narrowed. “What?”

  “I’m pregnant.”

  Stephanie’s glance flew down to home plate. “Already? He works fast.”

  “The baby’s not Matt’s, you goof.”

  “What?”

  Steph’s ear-splitting shriek drew curious stares from people seated near them. Meg frowned. “Lower your voice, please.”

  “Sorry.” After a pause, she continued. “Guess that explains your ongoing bout of the flu.”

  Meg flashed her friend a sheepish grin. “I didn’t want anyone to know.”

  “I should say not.” Stephanie looked back down at Matt. “Does he know?”

  “Of course he does. You think I’d get involved with him without telling him something like that?”

  She felt Stephanie sizing her up. Finally, her friend spoke. “You wouldn’t, but plenty of other girls would. They’d let him think the baby was his.”

  “Well, I’m not that kind of girl.”

  “I should hope not.” Stephanie stared up at the sky for a moment, and then settled her gaze back on Meg. “Have you told Tim yet?”

  She snorted. “You think he left me a forwarding address?”

  “Well, no. But he shouldn’t be that hard to track down. You know he’s in Vegas, on the professional poker circuit.”

  Meg shook her head, wondering how they’d gone from having a somewhat pleasant conversation about Matt and Greg to talking about her good-for-nothing ex. “Frankly, I don’t want him to know. The baby and I will be better off without Tim in our lives.”

  “You and I might think so, but Tim does have legal rights.”

  Her friend’s comment, practically an echo of what Matt had said a few days earlier, brought a frown to Meg’s lips. She fed Steph the same explanation she’d given Matt. “I’d say he forfeited any rights he might have had when he abandoned me.”

  “In a perfect world, perhaps. But you and I both know this world is far from perfect.” Stephanie’s gaze held Meg’s. “Just be careful, Meg. You need to protect yourself and that kid of yours.”

  ****

  After the game, Meg waited in the bleachers for Matt. Greg had already come for Stephanie, so she’d spent the last five or so minutes mulling the pros and cons of each of the apartments she and Matt had looked at Thursday.

  She was rooting around in her purse for paper and a pen to start a list when a shadow fell across her. She looked up, unsurprised when Matt was the one standing over her.

  “What’s a beautiful girl like you doing hanging out in a place like this?”

  She giggled and fluttered her eyelashes at him. “Waiting for a big, strong ballplayer to sweep her off her feet, of course.”

  Matt’s eyes never left her face as he reached for her hand and pulled her to a standing position. He wrapped his arms around her waist and planted a kiss below her earlobe. “You know this is our last night together.”

  Even though the words weren’t a surprise, they left Meg with sense of loss. “Not forever.”

  He pulled away, looking affronted. “Of course not—but for a couple of weeks at least.”

  She sighed as she settled back into his embrace. “That seems like forever.”

  “Exactly what I was thinking.” He cleared his throat. “We need to talk.”

  The intensity of his voice made her uncomfortable, so she joked, “That sounds like it should be my line.”

  “It probably should. But since you’ve been avoiding any and all talk about the future, I have to bring it up.”

  Meg pulled away to meet his eyes. They were even more intense than his voice, and had darkened to a deep mahogany. She wanted him just as much now as she had on their first night together—and all the ones that came after. She couldn’t imagine a time when she wouldn’t want this man, here, with her in bed and in life.

  However, she did not want to settle their future on an empty stomach. “Can it wait until we have some food in front of us? The Pea and I are starving.”


  Matt didn’t make her ask a second time. He took the bleacher stairs two at a time, pausing at the bottom for her to catch up. His foot tapped out a rapid beat.

  She didn’t blame him for being impatient. But for the baby’s sake, she had to move with at least a little caution. She didn’t want to end up spending the night in the ER.

  Still, she couldn’t help picking up her pace. The Pea wouldn’t mind being jostled in the name of love.

  Love? Startled by the thought, she almost missed the bottom step.

  Matt reached out to steady her, planting both hands on her waist. “Careful there.”

  With her feet back on solid ground, Meg took a moment to think. She could do worse than loving this gentle, sweet, sometimes overbearing man. In fact, she had.

  He broke into a run then, and on even ground she had no qualms about sprinting to catch up with him. They reached her car at the same time. She clicked the lock and paused with her hand on the door latch.

  “What’s for dinner?” she asked.

  Matt’s eyebrows leapt in apparent surprise. “I was about to ask you the same question. You’re the one who’s starving.”

  “Chinese.” Meg’s response was automatic. She’d been dreaming of a nice, crispy egg roll slathered with sweet and sour sauce since breakfast. “I want sesame chicken with steamed rice, egg rolls, egg drop soup and crab puffs. If we order from China Moon, they’ll throw in a free order of those yummy mini donuts for dess….”

  She trailed off when she noticed Matt was trying hard not to laugh. “What?”

  “You really are eating for two, aren’t you?”

  She defended herself. “I haven’t had Chinese food for a month.”

  He chuckled. “Far be it from me to keep Junior from his Chinese fix.”

  Meg giggled, too. She’d miss his sense of humor when he left. “Wise decision.”

  ****

  Ninety minutes later, fortified by copious amounts of Chinese food, they were back in Matt’s hotel room. He lounged on the bed. Meg stretched out beside him, her head resting on his shoulder as he absently toyed with the curls at her nape. It was time to stop putting off the big talk he’d alluded to at the field. He left for Phoenix in less than twelve hours, and before he went, he had to know if she was as serious about him as he was about her.

  He could clearly see a future with Meg, who made even his nondescript hotel room feel like home. Now, if only he could take her with him wherever he went, he’d be set. Too bad that wasn’t an option. He’d have to settle for knowing she waited for him here, in Flagstaff.

  If she would be waiting, that is. Were they even in the same ballpark?

  Still stroking her hair, he kept his voice as casual as he could. “I know we’re not in high school and I don’t have a class ring to give you, but—” He paused, groping for the right words. “Let’s go steady.”

  His heart plummeted when she stilled beside him. Maybe he had been reading her wrong these past couple of weeks. Perhaps she did just want a little fun with the visiting stud.

  Matt grimaced and forced himself to look into her eyes. What he saw in their depths was inscrutable.

  Finally, she spoke. “I thought we already were.”

  “G—going steady?” he stammered. When she nodded impatiently, he scrambled to save face. “Yeah. I mean I haven’t been seeing anyone else. I just wasn’t sure if you wanted to—”

  She smiled at him and pressed a finger to his lips. “Stop talking now.”

  “But—”

  “You’re only making things worse,” Meg told him with a grin before her lips took the place of her finger. When she pulled away several moments later, she smiled again. “I don’t blame you for wanting to find out where we stand before you head out on the road.”

  “Then you understand.” Relief filled him. “I’m glad.”

  She nodded. “It’d suck if I sat here being faithful to you only to find out you’d been off playing extra innings with some of your groupies.”

  Damn. She didn’t understand him as well as he thought. “That won’t be a problem. I’ve told you how much I loathe baseball babes.”

  Her head bobbed again, but her eyes pinned him in place. “Just so we’re clear, you’re saying you want to be in my life—and the Pea’s. For the long haul?”

  He gulped and nodded. “I am.”

  “Good, because there’s no man I’d rather be with than you.”

  Chapter Eleven

  “Hey, Thatcher!”

  Matt swiveled his head from side to side in the post-game locker room chaos to see who had called out to him. Greg stood a few yards away, looking straight at him, so he shouted to be heard over his jubilant teammates. “What?”

  “A bunch of us are heading to the Olympic Garden to celebrate. Want to come?”

  Recognizing the name of one of the Vegas Strip’s famed strip clubs, Matt shook his head. “I have other plans.”

  He wasn’t sorry. Strip clubs weren’t his scene—never had been. He found it impossible to simply kick back and enjoy the show. He always started wondering about what drove the dancers to strip. Imagining all kinds of sob stories, he got more depressed than turned on.

  Greg shrugged. “Suit yourself, old man.”

  Well aware Greg was picturing him in bed with a hot water bottle and reruns of Twilight Zone, he didn’t take offense. That had been his modus operandi of late, after all. “I always do.”

  No, TV in bed wasn’t on the agenda this time. Tonight, Matt had something else in mind. He’d celebrate the Condors’ two-run win over the Vegas Vanguard at Caesar’s Palace. That’s where Meg’s ex agreed to meet him.

  He planned a man-to-man chat. He wasn’t sure what a guy known as “Royal Flush” Royalman would bring to the table, though. From what Meg had said about the guy, he doubted Mr. Flush had much to offer.

  Man or mouse, it was almost time to find out. Matt caught a cab to the Strip and walked into the Palace thirty minutes early. He decided to kill some time on one of the penny slot machines. He fed it ten bucks and hit a couple of buttons. Nothing. He tried again and it spit out three dollars.

  “Might as well keep going.” His next few hits gave him all of five cents. Well, losing a ten-spot wouldn’t break him. He hit the button again and—surprise—won $50.

  Matt cashed out with the profit—a tidy sum for a few minutes’ work—and went to the bar for a beer. He burned a few more minutes with a little people watching and then headed to the poker room, where Meg’s ex was just wrapping up his game.

  Players started clearing away from the table, and soon only one man remained. The guy wore an oversized cowboy hat and shiny red shirt. His lip curled into a sneer. Matt hated him on sight. What the hell could Meg have seen in a guy like this?

  His mother’s soft voice popped into his head, admonishing him not to judge the book by its cover.

  Matt sighed. Mom was right. This ex of Meg’s could be hiding a scintillating personality under that ridiculous hat. He’d reserve judgment until he’d talked to the bozo.

  When the other man didn’t rise to meet him, Matt recognized it for the power play it was. Annoyed, he closed the gap between them and spoke first.

  “You must be Tim Royalman.”

  “That’s me.”

  “Like I said on the phone, you and I have a mutual friend.”

  “Who’s that?”

  Matt narrowed his eyes. Conversation wasn’t improving his opinion of the guy at all. Surely he could string together more than two words at a time. “Meg Malone.”

  Tim tipped his hat back, giving Matt his first look into eyes devoid of emotion. “How’s Meg?”

  Matt felt his own lip curl into a sneer to match Tim’s. Like he really wanted to tell this two-syllable jerk anything. Meg was right: He’d be useless as a parent—especially when it came time to teach Junior to talk. “She’s fine.”

  “Doubt that.”

  “Now what makes you say that?”

  “Meg wouldn�
��t have sent someone looking for me if everything was fine.”

  Matt didn’t bother to hide his astonishment that Tim could speak more than two words at once. “She didn’t send me.”

  “Then why are you here?”

  Whoa. Five whole words this time. He’d have to work harder than that to break his last-sentence record of twelve. Matt took another moment to debate with himself before answering. “I thought you deserved to know.”

  “Know what?”

  The guy had a right to know he was about to be a father, no matter how despicable—or illiterate—he might be. Matt took a deep breath. “Meg’s pregnant.”

  Tim dipped his head so the hat again hid his eyes, but Matt caught a glimmer of something he didn’t like before the shade fell. “Not mine.”

  Matt lunged toward Tim, prepared to take a swing. Or at least choke the jerk until he spit out another complete sentence. He felt a restraining hand on his shoulder and turned to see Dave standing behind him.

  “Thought you were at the Olympic Garden.”

  “With Greg and the rookies? You know me better than that.” He paused. “Good thing I followed you instead. You don’t want to mess things up for yourself by picking a fight with this asshole.”

  Tim stood then, rising to his full height of…maybe five-foot-seven. Matt wondered if that was why he’d chosen to remain seated. Maybe he had a Napoleon complex.

  “Who are you calling an asshole?”

  Dave glowered at Tim, apparently liking him no more than Matt did. “Yeah. I guess ‘asshole’ is too good a word for you. Assholes have a function. You, on the other hand, can’t even face up to your responsibility.”

  Tim spat on the floor. “It could be anyone’s. Meg and I didn’t have that much sex. She was always too…” he groped for the right word, and Matt wished he hadn’t suddenly decided to start using complete sentences. “…voracious for my tastes. Who knows where she scratched her itch when I wasn’t around?”

  This time, Dave didn’t even try to keep Matt from landing a punch—not that he’d have been able to. His fist connected with the bozo’s jaw with a satisfying thud. Tim reeled back, bumped into the table and landed on his back. Poker chips went flying, along with his hat. He lay there, blinking up at the ceiling, as Dave herded Matt toward the exit.