by Carrie Elks
The water was strong and hot, steam filling the bathroom, but it did nothing to soothe his aching soul. He had hours before he was due to work. Time he needed to fill so he didn’t have to think about Isla and Meghan and how he’d broken his sister all those years ago.
He’d go for that run, then he’d drive to James and Harper’s, or maybe to Belle’s house. Anything to get himself away from here. It only took him a few minutes to pull his gym gear on, sliding his feet into his battered sneakers, before grabbing his keys. The hallway was thankfully empty, and he walked to the elevator, pressing the button as he side eyed Meghan’s apartment.
The elevator arrived quicker than he’d expected. The doors slid open and he went to walk inside, but then he saw them.
Isla was standing between Meghan and Dylan, a huge grin pulling at her lips. And in front of them was that huge security guard who’d been at the gallery and in Meghan’s apartment.
“Rich!” Isla said, poking her head past the guard. “Guess what? This is my daddy.” She pulled her hands away from Meghan and Dylan, and started to run toward him, but her progress was halted when the guard put a hand on her shoulder.
The smile melted from her lips, and she turned to look at the guard. Rich tensed. All he wanted to do was get that guard’s goddamned hands off Isla. All her excitement and happiness seemed to have leached away.
“It’s okay,” Dylan said, his eyes flickering to Rich’s. “Ger just needs to check the hall before we walk out.”
Isla nodded, but there were tears in her eyes. Rich wanted to hit something.
“Clear,” Ger said, nodding his head to Dylan. “Sorry, kid. It’s my job to keep you safe.”
“I’m sorry.” Isla’s lip wobbled. “Mommy always tells me not to run.”
Rich opened his mouth to tell her it was okay. To console her.
“No worries, sweetheart,” Dylan said, before Rich could form the words. “We’re being overprotective.” He glanced at Ger. “Tone it down,” he mouthed. Ger nodded.
The three of them stepped out of the elevator, and Rich moved to let them through. Isla looked up at him, her eyes still shiny.
“Are you coming to L.A with us?” she asked him.
He shook his head. “No.”
“But there’s a swimming pool. We can play sharks.”
Meghan was watching them silently. The guard was already at her door, unlocking it. So he had a key? Things had changed so much in a few hours.
“I have to work.” His throat felt congested. “But you’ll have a great time.”
He could feel the heat of Meghan’s gaze on his skin. But he couldn’t bring himself to look at her. He really was an asshole, but he had no idea what to say. How to make this better.
So he’d do what he always did. Withdraw until he didn’t have to think about it anymore.
“Sweetie, can you go in the apartment with Dylan and Ger? I need to talk to Rich about something,” Meghan said, her clear voice echoing through the hallway.
“I’m on my way out,” Rich said. There was no way he wanted to talk to her. He didn’t trust himself not to get hurt all over again.
“It won’t take long.” Meghan glanced at Isla, who was staring up at them with interest. “I just want to talk to you about Gloria. Make sure she’s taken care of while we’re away.”
Rich blew out a mouthful of air. “Okay.”
“Can we go to your apartment?” Meghan suggested.
He nodded, turning on his heel and heading back to his door, opening it and letting her walk inside. Clenching his teeth together, he closed it softly, leaning back against it as though it was some kind of safe harbor.
“Have I done something wrong?” she asked, her voice soft.
She looked so tiny standing in his apartment, the late morning light bathing her skin. All he wanted to do was pull her into his arms, to press his face into her hair and inhale her.
“No. You’ve done nothing wrong.” He shook his head, still leaning against the door. He didn’t dare move.
“Then why aren’t you talking to me? I don’t understand. I know this has come out of the blue, but I need you. I missed you last night.”
It was cold comfort that she hadn’t been able to sleep either.
“Did Dylan sleep at your apartment?”
She blinked. “Yes. We talked for hours. I wanted to make sure he was actually ready to meet Isla. I don’t want him coming into her life and upsetting her by changing his mind. But he seems solid. Mature, even. Then he fell asleep on the sofa. I left him and his bodyguard to it.”
He nodded, but said nothing. His body was so tight it was getting hard to breathe. All he wanted to do was run.
Far from here. From his thoughts, his feelings, the goddamned emotions that wouldn’t stop stabbing him in the chest.
“There’s nothing going on between us, you know,” Meghan told him. “He has a fiancée. He just wants to get to know Isla.”
Rich swallowed. “I’m glad for her. She deserves a father.”
Meghan ran the tip of her tongue along her bottom lip, and it made him want to kiss her. “So, can I call you when we’re in L.A.?” she asked him.
His stomach tightened. “That’s not a good idea.”
She recoiled, as though he’d slapped her. “Why not?”
“Because you need to concentrate on Isla. She’s the important one in this. Anyway, you’ll be busy. And I will, too. I have a lot going on right now. I’ll be on night shift, I have a lawyer to deal with to stop Carlyn from getting anywhere near you again, and then I need to work out what the hell’s going on with Belle’s artwork.” He shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. “And at some point I need to get sleep.”
Meghan pulled her lip between her teeth, her brows pulling together. “I don’t understand. I can concentrate on more than one thing. I just want to talk to you.”
The way she was looking at him felt like a knife to the chest. She wanted him to make it all better. And he wanted to as well – so damn much – but he knew he couldn’t.
He only made things worse.
One of the first things he’d learned during his rotations was that clean breaks were always easier to deal with than messy ones. Sure, that was bones, but it was true of relationships, too. He would be doing her a favor if he walked away.
Saving her from pain, from hurt.
“You should call your parents,” he said. “Talk to them.”
Meghan laughed, though there was no humor in it. “Are you serious?”
“Yeah. You should call them.”
“So that’s it?” She lifted her hands, palms to the ceiling. “You’re not interested in me now that Dylan’s here? What was I, some kind of charity project? Did you feel sorry for me, Rich? And now that you can’t do your knight in shining armor act, you’re walking away?”
The pain was making it hard to breathe. Was this what a heart attack felt like? He took a deep breath, avoiding her eyes.
“I just think we both have enough to deal with. It’s been fun, but maybe it’s time to concentrate on other things.”
“It’s been fun.” Her words were dull. “Is that what it’s been?”
He opened his mouth and closed it again. There weren’t the right words to make this better.
“You’re an asshole,” she hissed. “You’re so gutless you won’t even look at me.”
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “And you’re right. I’m an asshole.” And she deserved better. So much more than a guy who couldn’t give her what she wanted. He needed to walk away for both their sakes.
“Okay then.” She stomped toward him. He stepped out of her way as she reached for the door handle, her expression frozen as her eyes turned to his. “I guess I’ll see you when I get back.”
He pulled his gaze away. It hurt too much to look at her. He nodded, but said nothing as she yanked the door open and stepped into the hall.
As the door slammed shut, he dropped his forehead to the wall, inhaling a ragg
ed breath as the pain of losing her throbbed through him.
He was an asshole. A jerk. And he definitely wasn’t good enough for her.
He’d done the right thing, so why did it hurt like hell?
27
Who knew it was possible to suffer from heartache while sitting around a sparkling blue pool in Hollywood Hills, watching your daughter play with her father as she giggled with glee?
Meghan shifted on her pool recliner, pulling her shades down over her eyes to hide the sadness. Isla called at her and she waved, painting a smile on her face.
“Dylan’s absolutely in love with her,” Natalie, Dylan’s fiancée said as he lifted Isla up and threw her over his shoulder. Isla squealed and started to splash him, making Dylan shake his wet hair at her, beads of chlorinated water flying all around them. “Thank you so much for agreeing to come here. It’s made him a happy man.”
It wasn’t exactly a hardship staying in a multi-million dollar house nestled into the tree lined slopes. Dylan’s housekeeper had made the guest suite up for Meghan and Isla. She’d cooed over the four poster bed with billowing white sheets and breathtaking view of the city, yet she still felt like she’d lost something so important to her.
“It’s made Isla happy, too,” Meghan said, watching her daughter swim underwater. She’d spent so much time in the pool since they’d arrived that Meghan joked she was turning into a mermaid. Isla had loved that idea.
“Can I ask you something?” Natalie asked, her English accent cutting through the warm air. She’d been nothing but welcoming to Isla and Meghan since they’d arrived, and Meghan appreciated her kindness. She was one of those beautiful English roses you read about in books, with her blonde hair and cool blue eyes, and pink lips that always seemed to be curled into a smile. She was successful in her own right, too. A screenwriter who was in demand in Hollywood.
“Shoot.” Meghan turned on her side and propped her chin on her hand.
“Why didn’t you sue Dylan for child support? He’s loaded. His money could have made your lives much easier.”
Meghan ran her tongue over her lips. “I didn’t need it. We’ve always been comfortable. I don’t have this kind of money…” she gestured at the pool and the two-story flat roofed modern house behind it. The windows were like mirrors in the afternoon sun, reflecting the beautiful vista of the city around them. “But I had more than enough. My grandmother left me a trust, and I’ve always made my own money.” Her thoughts drifted to the ice cream parlor. She’d ended up closing it for a week, rather than panic over staffing issues. She’d be back by the weekend, when the rush would be in full force. Until then, she’d survive.
“You’re my kind of woman,” Natalie said, her lips curling. “Who needs guys when you have girl power?” She lay her head back on her sun bed, smiling as Dylan climbed out of the pool, water dripping from his muscled torso. “Actually, scrap that. I do.”
Meghan smiled. It almost reached her eyes, though nobody could have seen it behind her dark lenses. Dylan walked over and kissed his fiancée’s cheek. “What are you guys talking about?”
“Girl power.” Natalie grinned at him.
Dylan wrinkled his nose. “Natalie grew up in London in the nineties. She was one of those kids obsessed by the Spice Girls. I keep trying to wash it out of her with some good American rock music, but she’s stubborn.”
“I loved the Spice Girls,” Meghan said. It was weird being here with the two of them, knowing that once upon a time she’d slept with Dylan. It didn’t seem to bother Natalie though. Or Dylan, for that matter.
There was zero chemistry between her and Dylan anyway. He was a nice, slightly scatterbrained guy, who seemed genuinely regretful that he’d neglected his daughter for so long. Meghan was almost certain it wasn’t just an act to impress his fiancée either.
“I’m gonna grab a drink. Can you keep an eye on Isla?” He nodded at the pool.
Meghan smiled, because that was her line. She’d have to get used to sharing her daughter. “I got it.”
He went inside, and Isla started swimming again, grabbing a float and climbing onto it.
“Do you have a guy back home?” Natalie asked her, sitting up to sip her soda.
Meghan pulled her lip between her teeth. Rich had barely been out of her mind since their argument on Sunday. For the last few days she’d checked her phone constantly, expecting an apology, an explanation… something.
Instead, she’d gotten a phone call from a lawyer explaining that Rich was filing a civil harassment restraining order against Carlyn, and asking if she was willing to file one, too. He’d sent her some details which she’d completed, but there was no contact from Rich.
And it hurt. That was the truth. She’d somehow let herself fall for him. She’d believed him when he’d told her he wanted to be with her, no matter what. Let herself be taken in by the fairytale when it was never going to have a happily ever after.
“No. No guy.” She faked a smile at Natalie.
“Isla kept mentioning somebody last night. Rich?” Natalie’s glasses had slipped down her nose, and she was looking at Meghan over the rim. “Said she wanted to call him but you wouldn’t let her.”
“He’s our neighbor. She’s got a little crush on him.”
“Oh.” Natalie gave a half smile. “Best not tell Dylan about that.”
“Best not tell Dylan about what?” He walked out of the kitchen doors carrying a red can, and lifted it up to his mouth to take a huge gulp.
“That we both agree you’re not the best drummer in the world.” Natalie winked at Meghan. There was a look in her eye that told Meghan it wasn’t the end of their conversation.
Dylan blinked. “That’s bull…” His eyes widened. “I mean, baloney. Sorry.” He glanced over at Isla, who was oblivious to his cursing. “I gotta get used to little ears.” He frowned, and tipped his head to the side. “Who’s a better drummer than me?”
Natalie took her sunglasses off. There was a twinkle in her eye. Dylan sat on the end of her lounger, holding his soda but not drinking it. “Dave Grohl.”
“Nope. Doesn’t count. He’s a singer more than a drummer. Try again.” Dylan leaned closer to Natalie, his eyes narrowed.
They were staring at each other like they were the only two people in the world. Over their shoulders, Meghan could see Isla splashing happily as she used her arms to scull along the water, her body laid out on the float.
A wave of melancholy washed over her. As welcoming as they’d been, and as beautiful as their house was, she felt like an intruder. Next time Dylan was in town, he’d probably ask for Isla to come stay with him alone. And of course she’d let him, but the thought made her chest ache.
“Okay, Keith Moon,” Natalie said, her voice husky.
“He’s dead. Try again,” Dylan replied, leaning closer to Natalie. There was an intensity to their conversation that built a force field around them. This was what true love looked like.
And she ached for it.
Natalie’s grin was mischievous, her chin lifted. “Ringo Star.” She said it with a laugh. Dylan lunged forward and grabbed her by the waist, standing to sling her over his shoulder like a fireman, then he stomped over to the pool and threw her in. Natalie squealed, and disappeared beneath the surface, ripples circling out to the edge of the pool.
“Are you kidding me?” Dylan said when she resurfaced. “Ringo fu— I mean, freaking Starr? Don’t utter those words in this house again or you’ll pay.” He jumped into the pool after her, pulling his legs up to make a cannon ball. As he entered the pool, a tidal wave of water exploded around him, soaking Natalie even more than she already was.
Isla was laughing. She jumped off the float she’d been laying on and swam toward them. Dylan scooped her up and she laughed again, her red hair flying around her as he launched her into the air.
Meghan’s eyes stung. A single tear escaped from one corner, pooling at the rim of her glasses where it met her cheek. She wiped it away. She wasn’t
ready to cry. Once she started, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to stop.
It’s been fun. That’s what Rich said when he’d broke it off with her. Was that all it had ever been for him? Because for her it had been so much more. It had been perfect. It had been everything.
It had been love.
And now that she’d lost it she had to figure out how to smile again.
“Hey. How are you doing?” Harper’s warm voice echoed through Meghan’s phone. Dylan, Natalie, and Isla had gone out for the day. They’d begged her to join them, but she’d refused. It was important for them to build bonds without her. After a few days here she trusted them. And they had the ever watchful Ger with them to make sure nothing happened.
She’d spent the morning by the pool, trying – and failing – to concentrate on a novel she’d found on Dylan’s bookshelves. He’d told her to help herself when they’d arrived. It was amazing how many of them were personally signed to him. She guessed he either had a lot of author friends or was a publicity manager’s dream.
“Hi. We’re doing okay. Still in LA. We come home tomorrow.” The thought of it made her throat feel tight. What would happen the next time she saw Rich in the hallway? Would he smile and be his usual friendly self, or would he ignore them?
What if he brought another woman home? Her stomach lurched as she tried to push that thought down. What a tangled web they’d woven. He’d warned her that he messed things up and she hadn’t listened.
She should have. Because now it was her mess too and it had edges so sharp they cut.
“So how are you really doing?” Harper probed. Meghan’s brave act wasn’t fooling her.
“Honestly?”
“Yep.”
Meghan pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. “I’m okay, for somebody whose baby daddy arrived out of no where and whisked us off to his L.A. mansion.”