by Linda Seed
“Hey. Where are you going?”
Drew turned to see Julia behind him in the hallway, looking at him in confusion.
“I … have to go.” It was lame and vague, and there was no way she was going to accept it.
She didn’t.
“Go where? Why? To do what?”
Drew stared at his shoes. “Eddie’s in the hotel room alone, and I—”
“He’s a cat. You give them a litter box and some kibble, and they’re fine. What’s really going on?”
It was annoying that Julia always could seem to tell what he was thinking. It had annoyed him when he was five and had lied about brushing his teeth or how many cookies he ate, and it annoyed him now.
“Why does something have to be going on? Why can’t it just be that I have to check on the cat? Why does there have to be some kind of conspiracy?”
“That’s a question—or three of them, really—and not an answer.”
Damn it.
“Why do they need me here, anyway? Liam would probably rather have a visit from the guy who delivers his mail than from me.”
“That’s not the point.”
Julia was as bossy with him as ever, but he noticed something else about her, too. She looked beautiful. She’d always been pretty, but something about her imminent marriage to Colin had made her glow. She looked—
Ah, shit. Her imminent marriage to Colin. Drew hadn’t even stopped to think about what all of this might mean.
“The wedding,” he said. “Is this … I mean, are you going to have to …”
“I don’t know.” She seemed to sag a little, as though some of that happiness he’d noticed in her had leaked out through a tiny, unseen hole. “Colin and I haven’t had a chance to talk.”
“If you have to cancel … All of these people in from out of town …”
“I know.”
It occurred to him that he might have been acting a little bit selfish, thinking only about his own feelings. And yet, he still couldn’t go back into that room and see Megan holding Liam’s hand.
“Listen, Jules, I’ll be back later. Or … I’ll see you all at the house.”
“Drew, you can’t just …”
But he didn’t listen to the rest of her sentence, because he was already walking down the hall and toward the hospital’s parking lot.
Chapter Seventeen
Before he’d even gotten to his car, Drew started feeling like a dick for leaving. But he wouldn’t let himself think about that. Instead, he drove out of the parking lot, got onto Highway 46, and headed back toward Cambria and his hotel.
As he drove past golden hills dotted with vineyards in the Paso Robles wine country, he chided himself for being so naïve. Had he really believed that he and Megan were in love just because they’d slept together? He was acting like a teenage girl. Sex was just that—sex. It was fun and physical, and that was that.
He didn’t know what was going to happen with Julia’s wedding, and a selfish part of him hoped—just a little—that it would get called off. Not that he didn’t want to see Julia and Colin married, because he did. But it would be a lot easier on him if they sent everybody home and had some county official down in San Luis Obispo do it. That way, he wouldn’t have to see Megan and Liam together any longer than necessary.
But another, better part of him pushed such thoughts aside. Of course he wanted his sister to have the wedding she’d planned and that she deserved. She’d been agonizing over arrangements for the event for a year, and had been looking forward to it with giddy excitement. If Liam’s injury caused her to postpone the ceremony, she would no doubt handle it with grace. But underneath that, the disappointment would be crushing.
When Drew arrived at his hotel, he fed Eddie and checked on his condition. The cat, who was lounging on the bed atop Drew’s pillow, seemed to be improving steadily, though he wasn’t over the virus that had hit him at the beginning of the trip. Drew cleaned out the cat’s litter box and paid the neglected animal a little attention, scratching him behind his ears and stroking his silky coat.
Then he locked the room and went out for a walk on Moonstone Beach, thinking that the exercise and the ocean air might help him clear his head.
He walked from one end of the wooden boardwalk to the other and then back again as the sun lowered toward the horizon. The weather was mild, and the sky was dotted with fluffy clouds that took on hues of pink and orange as nightfall neared.
As he walked, he couldn’t get Megan out of his head.
He should have never gotten involved. He should never have gone there. Surely his experiences with Tessa had taught him something about restraint. About protecting himself from heartbreak.
It didn’t help that right now, at the height of the sunset’s glory, the boardwalk was loaded with happy couples holding hands, walking arm-in-arm, or pausing to gaze at the ocean and steal a kiss.
Right now, Cambria really sucked.
Just after nightfall, when Drew was back in his room, Megan called him on his cell phone.
He considered ignoring the call, but who was he kidding? Of course he was going to answer it. How could he not?
“Hey,” he said. His attempt to sound causal was failing.
“Hey.” The tense silence between them stretched out uncomfortably.
“So, how’s Liam?” Drew gripped the phone too hard in his hand.
“He’s … okay, I guess. Still drugged up, so he’s pretty loopy. Sandra and Orin are with him.”
The muscles in Drew’s jaw bunched up tight. “Well, I guess you’d better get back to him, then.”
“What’s going on?” she said. “You were there in his room for maybe a minute, and then you were gone. Where did you go?”
“What difference does it make?”
“What do you mean, what difference? Drew? Do we have a problem here?”
How could he tell her what he was thinking, after just one afternoon together? After they’d barely met?
He couldn’t tell her that he was in love with her. He’d sound like an ass.
“No problem,” he said. “It’s just, you seem to have your hands full with Liam.”
When she spoke again, she sounded hurt. “You can’t be angry with me because I’m showing him a little … what? A little compassion?”
He shouldn’t be, and yet that seemed to be exactly what he was feeling.
He decided to take an extreme approach—honesty.
“Seeing you with him … I wasn’t ready for it. You were holding his hand, and … it looked like you might still love him.”
“I still care about him,” she said. “I still care what happens to him and whether he’s okay. What kind of person would I be if I didn’t?”
He nodded. “Yeah. I know.”
He wanted so much to ask her to break it off with Liam, but of course, he couldn’t. Not now. Not with Liam injured and facing surgery. But where, exactly, did that leave the two of them?
Drew didn’t know what to say, so he didn’t say anything. He just held the phone to his ear, relishing that small connection with her, however tenuous.
“They’re going to do the surgery tomorrow,” she said after a while.
“Okay.”
“They’re going to have to use plates and pins to stabilize the bones, and he’s going to have a long period of physical therapy afterward to get his full range of motion back. That’s if everything goes well. If it doesn’t …”
She left that thought out there—the thought of what if it didn’t.
“All right.”
“Drew? I can’t end things with him. Not right now.”
He’d known it, but it still felt like a gut-punch to hear it.
“You’ve got to do what you’ve got to do, I guess.” He sounded petulant even to himself, but he couldn’t seem to help it.
“Drew …”
He hung up the phone without saying goodbye.
She stared at the phone and couldn’t believe it. He’d a
ctually hung up on her.
She felt tears in her eyes, and swiped them away with her fingertips.
“Megan?” Breanna had come out into the hospital lobby, where Megan was sitting in a hard plastic chair.
Megan looked up at her, attempting to look bright-eyed and calm.
“Were you just in with him? How’s he doing?” she asked, hoping that if she distracted Breanna, her friend might not notice how upset she was.
Breanna sat in a chair beside her. “Oh, he’s higher than the Empire State Building, so I guess he’s fine.” She put a hand on Megan’s shoulder. “Right now, I’m wondering about you. He’s going to be fine, you know. They’ll fix him up in surgery, and he’ll be good as new.”
Megan felt a little bit ashamed about the misunderstanding. Breanna thought she was teary-eyed over Liam, which, of course, she should have been instead of pining away over another man.
“Oh … I know.” She let out a shaky laugh. “It could have been a lot worse. He could have had a head injury, or—”
“Not that anything could get through that thick skull,” Breanna quipped. “Even a thousand-pound horse.”
“Right.” Megan nodded. “He’ll be fine. I know.”
“All right, then buck up, and let’s go home. He’ll be pretty out of it for the rest of the night, and he’s in good hands.”
“Okay.” But the tears started to leak out of her, and she couldn’t seem to get up from her chair.
“Unless … Megan, is there something else wrong?”
Breanna sat down next to her and put her arm around Megan’s shoulders.
The compassionate touch, which she didn’t deserve, was more than Megan could take. She burst into tears, looking down into her own lap so she wouldn’t have to meet Breanna’s eyes.
“It’s me! I’m awful! I’m an awful person!”
“Oh, Megan. No, you’re not. You’re a wonderful person. Why would you think you’re awful? If it’s because we couldn’t reach you at first when Liam got hurt, then … Why? Were you someplace you shouldn’t have been? Because … Wait. Who were you on the phone with a minute ago?” As Breanna rambled on, having a conversation with herself, she suddenly gasped, wide-eyed. “Oh, my God! You were with him! You were with Drew!”
Megan cried harder and began rummaging around in her purse for some tissues. She found some, then wiped at her eyes and blew her nose.
Breanna’s expression grew grim and determined. “Come on,” she said, taking Megan by the arm and pulling her up out of the chair. “You can’t let my mom see you like this. She’ll know.” She led Megan out of the hospital and toward her car.
When they were sitting safely inside Breanna’s Toyota, Breanna turned to Megan. “Okay, spill. What happened?”
“You really do have your mother’s gift, you know? That mind-reading thing …”
“Don’t change the subject.” Breanna pointed one finger at her.
Megan let her head fall back against the headrest, her gaze on the car’s beige roof. “Okay, yes. I was with Drew. And I had my phone off. Because we were … busy.”
“And by ‘busy,’ you mean that you two were wrestling naked,” Breanna remarked dryly.
“Well …”
“Megan!” Breanna spoke with the frustrated, exasperated tone she often used with her boys. “Why did you have to do that? I mean, I knew you had the hots for him, but why couldn’t you wait until you broke up with Liam?”
“I don’t know!” she wailed miserably. “He’d found some letters that Redmond wrote to his mom, and he was upset. And I asked him if he was okay, and he didn’t know, and so … I went over there. To talk! I just thought we’d talk!” But that was a lie, because she hadn’t thought they would just talk. She’d had a pretty good idea what would happen if she showed up at Drew’s hotel room, and yet she’d gone anyway. She just hadn’t seemed to be able to help herself.
“And you didn’t talk,” Breanna said.
“We did. After.”
“Oh, Megan.”
Megan honked into her tissues while Breanna looked at her scornfully.
“Don’t judge me!” she said. “Because I’m already judging myself.”
In the parking lot around them, people made their way to and from the hospital. Families visiting loved ones, orderlies and cafeteria workers leaving work for the day. The parking lot lights began coming on as the last light of the day faded.
“Okay.” Breanna put on a neutral expression. “Just tell me what happened.”
So, she did. Megan told her about sleeping with Drew, and about how it had been a revelation. Then she told her about holding Liam’s hand in the hospital room, and Drew coming in and seeing her.
“He was jealous, Bree. He said it looked like I still loved Liam. And I do! Just not that way. Not the way he needs me to. But Drew thinks … He thinks …”
“He thinks you’re playing him,” Breanna concluded. “He thinks he was just a good time. And from the sound of it, he was a very good time.”
“He hung up on me,” Megan said miserably. “Because I won’t break it off right now, with Liam in the hospital on morphine.”
“Come to think of it, doing it while he’s on morphine might be a great idea,” Breanna said.
“Bree!”
“Sorry.”
As Megan pulled her emotions together, wiped her eyes, and drew in a long, shaky breath, Breanna appraised her.
“You’re in love,” she said.
“I really think I might be. Is that stupid?”
“Yes,” Breanna said.
“Oh, God …”
“I’m joking,” Breanna said. “Mostly.”
“I didn’t want this to happen.” Megan felt the tears begin to come again, so she fought them back. “While I was still with Liam. I wasn’t looking for this. But … it happened. And it wasn’t just sex, Breanna. It wasn’t just me trying to distance myself from Liam. It was … “
“Destiny?” Breanna offered wryly. “Love at first sight? Kismet?”
Megan looked at her. “Yes.”
“Oh, shit. You’re serious.”
Megan just sat there miserably.
“Okay,” Breanna said. “Let’s recap. You’ve got one man who you’ve cheated on, but who you can’t break up with because he’s all injured and pathetic. You’ve got another man who you’re in love with, but who’s pissed off because you’re already taken. You’re all scheduled to be attendants at a wedding that might not happen now. And both of your men hate each other.”
“Pretty much,” Megan admitted.
“Well … It’s not going to be dull,” Breanna said.
Chapter Eighteen
Julia called Drew the next day, around ten a.m., to tell him that the wedding would go forward as scheduled—assuming all went well with Liam’s surgery.
“I talked to him this morning. He thought it was stupid that we’d consider calling it off,” Julia told Drew. “He said, ‘Why the hell would you cancel the damned wedding just because of a broken leg?’ Then he accused me of using it as an excuse to avoid marrying Colin. Even on pain meds, he seems like his usual self.”
“Well, that’s good,” Drew said. “I guess he’ll still be in the hospital and won’t be able to come.”
“It’s possible he might be able to be there in a wheelchair. He’s going to love that,” she said dryly.
“Okay. Well, that all makes sense, I guess.”
Julia’s silence was a warning for him to brace himself for an interrogation.
“Where did you go yesterday?” she asked.
“When?” Playing dumb seemed like the thing to do.
“You know when. Unless you fled more than one hospital yesterday.”
“I just … had some things to do.” Could he have come up with a more lame line than that one?
“Like what? Laundry? Boat-building? Washing your hair?” The sarcasm in her tone made him feel petulant, as though he were a teenager rebelling against his parents.
“Things, Julia.”
She sighed. “Well, I know from long experience that you’re not going to tell me anything you don’t want to tell me. Have it your way.” Then, in a change of topic: “Even though we’re going ahead with the wedding, we’re canceling the rest of the pre-wedding events except for the rehearsal and the rehearsal dinner. Liam said that was stupid, too, but I thought it made sense.”
Drew felt a surge of relief at the thought that he’d no longer have to do barbecues and picnics and who knew what else while trying to pretend that he wasn’t in love with Megan. At least Liam’s broken leg had accomplished that much.
“Yeah, I guess it does,” he agreed.
“But that doesn’t mean you’re completely off the hook. Come out to the house today for lunch.”
“Aw, Julia …”
“Just come,” she said.
“But—”
“Sandra’s expecting you.” And then she hung up.
Shit.
Drew got to the house at around noon, fearing that he might find another huge get-together, the way he had on the day he’d arrived.
But Liam’s injury apparently had put a damper on things, so he only found a few members of the immediate family—Sandra, Julia, Breanna, and Colin—and his mother.
Isabelle was sitting at the big kitchen table with a binder in front of her, fussing over the canceled events.
“Well, it’s a shame that we won’t be doing the picnic, because I was so looking forward to it—the grounds here are just wonderful! But, I guess it can’t be helped. I called the caterer, and—” She stopped in midsentence when Drew came into the room.
“Well! There you are.” She got up from the table and came around to give him a hug that was probably part genuine, part show. He received the hug stiffly.
“Mom.”
Sandra was fussing around at the counter, fuzzy slippers on her feet, a utilitarian white apron tied around her middle.
“Well, come on in, boy,” she said.
It felt surreal to Drew to have his mother here. But it probably felt even more so to Sandra. After all, it wasn’t every day that your dead brother-in-law’s secret lover commandeered your kitchen.