“Worried?”
Matt found himself nodding. That sounded much better than “I thought you were cheating on me.” How pathetic would that make her think he was? He didn’t want Meg to think he was insecure, even if he was unsure of her feelings for him. “You sounded…distracted on the phone.”
“I didn’t tell you where I’d be. How did you know where to find me?”
Again, Stan did the explaining. It was probably better that way. His brother was the more diplomatic one. “Matty recognized your car as we drove into town, so we stopped to see whether you wanted some company.”
Meg considered what his brother told her while she nibbled on a piece of pizza crust. Finally, she flashed him a smile. “I guess that’s okay, then.” In the next breath, she faced Matt. Her smile was gone. “I’m still upset with you, Matt.”
“Why? What did I do?” No way was he going to cop to thinking she was cheating on him. The longer he considered that possibility, the more ridiculous it seemed. Meg had never been anything but honest with him, right from the beginning. As usual, his brother was right: Meg was not Lana, and he had to stop letting that heartless bitch’s betrayal color his life.
“You told Tim I was pregnant.”
Stan’s soft whistle broke the silence. “I think it’s time for me to head to the powder room.”
Matt waved his brother away, but his eyes didn’t leave Meg’s face. She didn’t look any too pleased with her eyes narrowed to slits. Well, his only defense was simple: It was the right thing to do. He wouldn’t want a kid of his running around without his knowledge—and, unlike her worthless ex, he’d sure as hell want to be involved in the child’s life.
He gave her a curt nod. “I did.”
“I told you I didn’t want him to know.”
“And I told you he deserved to know, if only so he could choose to make himself scarce.”
“That’s exactly what he did.” Meg plucked a pizza crust off Stan’s plate and shoved it in her mouth as her eyes teared up. “He couldn’t distance himself fast enough.”
Matt gathered her into his arms for a hug. He held Meg while she chewed and sobbed, mourning…Tim’s defection? No way. “Thought you said you were better off without him.”
She sniffled and raised her head from his shoulder so her voice was clear. “We are. But it still hurts, you know?” She paused for a moment. “I think worst of all is the embarrassment for my awful judgment. I can’t believe I thought I loved that asshole.”
“We all fall for assholes, Meg,” he said, thinking of Lana. If anyone qualified as a Grade-A, first-class jerk, it was her. Even now he couldn’t believe her nerve, dumping him because she thought his career was going nowhere. She was undoubtedly the biggest reason he remained wary of baseball babes.
“Me more than most.” She sighed and buried her face in his shoulder again. Her words were muffled, but still intelligible. “The guy my dad wouldn’t let me go to prom with got his prom date pregnant.”
Unsure what to say, he opted not to say anything. Meg continued. “Tim’s worse though. Nate and his prom date were married for a few years. You should have seen the look on his face when he realized he could avoid all responsibility for the Pea. Pure joy.”
He stroked her hair. Maybe it would provide some comfort. “Tim would have found out about the baby at some point.” He tried to cheer her with his panty-peeling grin. “Sooner is always better than later.”
She raised her head to look into his eyes. He knew he was making progress when the corners of her mouth quirked up. “I wouldn’t say always.”
“So we’re okay?” With a suggestive comment like that, it sounded like it.
Her smile grew. “I can’t stay mad at you, not when you’re right. I’d have had to tell Tim eventually, as much as I didn’t want to. Doing it now just sped up the inevitable—and now I don’t have to keep dreading the confrontation.”
In the next moment, her smile had vanished. “Still, I wish you’d stop trying to do what you think is best for me. Believe it or not, I can run my own life.”
Matt wisely refrained from pointing out that she hadn’t been doing such a great job of it lately. “I believe it, Meg. And for the record, I went to see Tim in Vegas before you told me about your father.”
“That’s still no excuse.”
“I’m not saying it was, because I’d probably still have done the same thing. Men have a right to know when they become fathers.”
“Why are you so adamant about that?”
“It’s just common sense, Meg.” When the look she gave him said there had to be more to it than that, he sighed. Because he never wanted to her to find out telling Tim had been his last-ditch attempt to get out of daddy duty, he’d have to tell her Dave’s story. Under the circumstances, he hoped his buddy wouldn’t mind. “About six years ago, Dave had a one-night stand in Texas that, unbeknownst to him, resulted in a baby. He just found out last season, and is having a hell of a time with it. He told me he hates having missed so many milestones in his little girl’s life. Those are years he’ll never get back.”
He could practically see Meg’s synapses firing as she digested what happened to Dave. At long last, she grinned. “You’re forgetting one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“Dave has a conscience. Tim’s a different beast.”
Matt chuckled and squeezed her hand. “At least you gave him the opportunity. What he does with that chance is what separates the men from the boys.”
With that, he waved Stan back over to the table. His brother had been hovering close, but not too close, for a while now. Stan beamed at him and mouthed the words, “Well done, Matty.”
Matt smiled back and reached into his back pocket for his wallet. He extracted several twenty-dollar bills and handed them to Stan. “Take the Yukon and find a hotel. I’m taking Meg back to her place.”
Stan waggled a finger at him. “I didn’t hear you ask Meg what she wanted.”
Damn! He’d really have to curb his take-charge impulse. He turned to Meg with what he hoped was a suitably sheepish expression. “Would you like me to go home with you tonight?”
Her smile could have stretched from coast to coast. Under the table, her hand caressed his thigh. “I thought you’d never ask.”
Chapter Fifteen
Everything is not all right.
Later that night in her cramped apartment, Meg lay in bed with a sleeping Matt, wide awake as she listened to the little voice inside her head. It wouldn’t shut up.
It wasn’t all right for him to have driven up to Flagstaff to spy on her. Despite Stan’s explanation, she’d have to be a fool not to realize they were on a reconnaissance mission. And it certainly wasn’t okay that Matt had told Tim about the baby after she asked him not to. Even though she hadn’t fully explained herself—and he had what he thought was the best reason in the universe, he should never have gone against her wishes.
Another thing that wasn’t okay? The way she just rolled over and accepted Matt’s “I know what’s best” rigamarole.
Matt’s breath was hot on her neck and he held her close. Too close. His arm weighed on her waist like a thousand-pound sandbag. She had to escape before she lost herself completely to some simpering idiot who couldn’t even eat a meal without her man’s permission.
She gagged on the thought before wriggling out of his embrace and jumping out of bed.
He stirred and half-rose to a sitting position. “What the—”
“Can’t sleep.”
With that quickly mumbled response, Meg headed for the couch. She’d just settled in under the afghan she kept on the back of the couch for her more and more frequent naps and closed her eyes when Matt came stumbling out of the bedroom, rubbing at his eyes.
“Thought you said you couldn’t sleep.”
She shrugged. “Maybe I just needed a change of scenery.”
“Okay, what’s wrong?” His thigh made contact with her feet as he sat down on the oppos
ite end of the couch.
She pulled her knees up to her chest. As suffocated as she felt at the moment, she couldn’t stand even that much togetherness. “Nothing.”
His pointed look said he didn’t buy that for a second.
“You really want to know?”
His eyebrow shot up. “Wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t.”
Well, he asked for it. Meg swallowed—hard. “I was wrong when I thought I could forgive you for going to Tim.”
He reared back. “Sure seemed like you forgot a few hours ago.”
“Call that a momentary lapse.” Her cheeks warmed. “I can’t have you second-guessing my every move, Matt.”
“I don’t—”
“Yes, you do.” She ticked off the list on her fingers. “Tim. The apartment. Even my food choices.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Maybe I do come on too strong sometimes.” He reached out and wrapped his fingers around her ankle. “But if so, it’s only because I care about you.”
“Maybe you care a little too much.” Meg kicked free of his grasp.
He looked at her as if she’d just kicked a kitten. “You can’t believe that.”
When his expression fell, she called herself ten kinds of selfish. In his eyes, he was only trying to help. She sighed. “I guess not.”
“Good.”
This time, when he grasped her ankle, she didn’t pull away. She did, however, fix him with her best we’re not done talking yet stare. “That doesn’t change the fact that what you think is right and what I think is right are two different things. We can’t both be right.”
“Then let’s both be wrong. They say two wrongs make a right.” He flashed her his winning grin.
Despite trying to have a serious discussion, her lips turned up. There he went again, lightening the mood and making her laugh. “Even if we are both wrong, I want you to let me decide.”
The teasing light left his golden-brown eyes as he moved closer to slide his arms around her waist. “Meg, I already told you I can’t promise never to give you my opinion.”
“I don’t care if you share opinions.” She swallowed against a rising tide of panic. She wasn’t supposed to feel trapped in the arms of the man she loved, was she? “What I care about is you thinking you know what’s best for me.”
He had to sense her unease, because he loosened his hold. “I’m a take-charge kind of guy. I can’t help it if that makes you feel less competent.”
Meg put as much distance between them as she could without actually leaving the couch. “I don’t think my competence is at issue.”
Even as she said it, she wondered if Matt knew her better than she knew herself. Was that what really bugged her? Could be, she supposed. Her father treated her mother—and her—as if they didn’t have the brains to bend over and tie a shoelace without his say-so.
She studied him again. He sat beside her, sure of himself and his place in the world. She was the one flailing and thrashing, trying to make sense of it all. “Maybe it is.”
That said, she relaxed into Matt’s embrace, resting her head on his shoulder. Now when he held her close, all she felt was his love. Warm, solid and there to support her. To lift her up to a higher plane.
He held her for so long she thought he’d fallen asleep. His breaths were deep and even, so she was surprised to find him staring at her, alert as an antelope on the lookout for dinner. Tension lined his face.
“I think it’s my turn to ask what’s wrong.” She gave him an uncertain smile.
Matt traced her jaw with his finger. “I know what I want here, Meg. But you don’t. Not yet, anyway.”
“Do too.”
He shook his head. “One minute you want me, the next you act like I’m the sole surviving carrier of the plague. I think we ought to take a step back. Slow down until you make up your mind once and for all.”
“What?” Panic closed off Meg’s airway and she struggled for breath. As uneasy as his nearness had made her feel a few minutes ago, the thought of him not being nearby made her a million times more panicky.
“I’m swinging for a home run and you’re at the plate, playing it safe with a bunt.”
Try as she might, she didn’t follow the analogy. And trying to figure it out was like struggling to keep her head above water when she had a cement block chained to her feet. “You know I love you, right?”
“You say you love me. You probably even believe it—but your actions don’t always agree.” His smile was sad. He rose off the couch. “I deserve more. We both do.”
With that, he grabbed his keys. When the apartment door closed softly behind him, a tear trickled down Meg’s cheek. That was the problem, in a nutshell. He kept assuming she didn’t know her own mind.
She wanted him, dammit. Of course she did. He had no right to tell her otherwise.
****
“You did what?” Stan’s girly shriek had Matt yanking the phone away from his ear. Good thing he didn’t need his eardrum to decipher signals from his pitcher.
“You heard me. I need a ride to the hotel.”
“No, what you need is to get your heinie back in that apartment and talk to Meg.”
Again with his concern for Meg? The stylist-client relationship shouldn’t be stronger than blood ties. “You’re my brother, not hers.”
“And as your brother, it’s my job to tell you when you’re being an idiot.”
“This time I’m not. I have a good reason for walking out just now.”
Stan’s sigh was heavy. “I can’t wait to hear this. I’ll come get you as soon as I put on my clothes.”
Matt didn’t feel the slightest bit sorry for Stan. No, he was the one with the right to freak out here, not his brother.
He paced the parking lot of Meg’s apartment complex until he saw his Yukon pull into the driveway, narrowly missing a fire hydrant on the curb. He should really give Stan, who was used to driving a Mini Cooper, lessons on navigating a real vehicle.
When the SUV screeched to a stop in two parking places, Matt yanked open the driver’s door. “I’ll drive.”
Stan waved away the offer. “I’m already settled in.”
“That wasn’t a question.”
His brother huffed out a breath and hopped out of the Yukon. Matt shielded his eyes from the brightness of the hot pink T-shirt Stan had paired with lime green shorts and purple high-top sneakers.
“You’d think a gay man would have more fashion sense,” he grumbled under his breath.
“I heard that. This was all I had in the gym bag I grabbed on my way out the door to rescue you from your own poor judgment.” Stan slugged his arm and Matt was surprised at his strength. He must have started pumping iron at the gym. “Stop trying to redirect my attention from your faux pas.”
Matt scowled at his brother. Secret iron man or not, Stan was still the younger, weaker sibling. He had no right to be bossy. “Why don’t you listen to my side of the story before you start telling me I’m wrong?”
He took his place in the vehicle’s driver’s seat and waited for Stan to walk around the hood of the car to the passenger side. When he was buckled in, Matt pulled out of the parking lot. He needed to put distance between himself and Meg before he ended up doing exactly what Stan wanted: going back in to talk to her. They’d done more than enough talking for one evening, thank you very much.
“Well?”
He started. “Well what?”
Stan’s eyes rolled. “Your side of the story. What is it?”
“I’m tired of waiting for Meg to make up her mind.”
For the longest time, the hum of the SUV’s engine was the only sound. Then Stan broke his silence. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“The mood swings. It’s like riding a roller coaster. In the span of two hours, she went from looking at me like she wanted to kill me to giving me some of the best sex of my life, then back to acting like I have some disease she didn’t want to catch and treating me like I have the answer t
o creating world peace. I’m exhausted.”
“Pull over. Now.”
Unaccustomed to hearing such authority from his kid brother, Matt eased the SUV to the side of the road and shifted into park.
“Listen closely.” Again, he obeyed. Stan’s gaze was intense, and Matt again wondered when he’d gotten so authoritative. Maybe Raul had talked him into assertiveness training. “You don’t get to be tired.”
“Wh—”
His brother shushed him. “Don’t speak, just nod. Did anyone say dating was easy?”
He frowned, but shook his head. He didn’t like assertive Stan very much.
“And didn’t I tell you it’d be even harder to date Meg?”
This time he nodded.
“If you recall, I also told you to make damn sure what you wanted—and what you’d be getting into—before you got involved. And did you listen?”
He nodded again. Meg and Junior were a package deal, and, after his initial reluctance, he’d signed on to be there for both of them. But damn it all, he couldn’t be there for Meg until he was sure she really wanted him there. He tried to explain his position to Stan.
His brother remained unconvinced. “Meg needs you even if she doesn’t know it yet. Your job is to persuade her of your usefulness.”
“When she acts like I have the plague, I don’t feel useful,” he grumbled.
Stan slugged his arm again. “That’s your problem, not Meg’s.”
He rubbed at his bicep. He’d probably end up with a bruise. If so, it’d match the one in his ego. First Meg, now Stan, both convinced he was wrong.
Oh, he knew he wasn’t perfect. Everyone made mistakes sometimes. But not this time. He was right. He didn’t want Meg to settle for him just because he was willing to be there. She had to want—no, need—him on a higher level.
That wasn’t too much to ask.
****
A few days later, Meg sat in Dr. Banks’ exam room as she debated whether she should call Matt. It had been three days since he’d walked out. Three drawn-out days with no word from him.
Why hadn’t he picked up the phone? His silence was getting ridiculous. If he weren’t careful, she just might decide she didn’t want him after all.
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