Stand-In Father (Intimate Moments)

by Warren, Pat

  How foolish, how stupid, how naive!

  It was time she grew up, Megan thought, swiping at a tear that trailed down one cheek. She was who she was and Alex was light-years different from her. And never the twain shall meet.

  Alex was angry. Furious, actually. He’d been sitting in the lounge for over an hour in the dark, fuming.

  Where in hell was Megan?

  He’d returned from his short reunion with his old friends around five o’clock, having grown tired of listening to exaggerated tales of their endless conquests. Maybe if he’d been drinking along with them, he’d have been more receptive. But since his surgery, since having to take fourteen pills a day, he’d steered clear of alcohol. He hadn’t told them about his transplant, his need to take it easy, so they’d tried repeatedly to coax him away from iced tea, but Alex had stuck to his guns.

  An awakening, that’s what tonight had been. He’d listened to his old buddies and tried to take part.

  “Remember that weekend in Madagascar?”

  “Hey, how about the time we took over a whole car on the Orient Express?”

  “Alex, do you ever hear from that babe in London, the one who sang in that smoky little club and couldn’t keep her hands off you?”

  Memories surfaced and were reflected in the faces of his friends, and there he saw himself. And what he saw didn’t please him.

  Alex had grown bored all too quickly with their growing hilarity as they’d ordered round after round. Under intense questioning, he’d finally confessed that he’d met someone special, that he was in love. They hadn’t believed him, had knowingly remarked that he’d outgrow it. That hadn’t set well with Alex.

  When he’d announced he was leaving, he’d suggested they go, too. Driving under the influence in California could cost you your license in a heartbeat. But neither Glenn nor Louie seemed worried and waved him off.

  Had he been that foolishly stubborn back in his early years? Alex asked himself. But then, he’d never been a heavy drinker like many of his friends. True, he’d been adventurous and ready to try new things, go new places, but alcohol hadn’t been high on his list of requirements. Some of the dangerous stunts he’d done had given him a natural high that no drink could match.

  Even that appeal had somehow disappeared, replaced by a soft-eyed woman and her gap-toothed son who’d quietly, stealthily and permanently moved into his heart. And his mind.

  But when he’d hurried back to Delaney’s, quickly parked the Porsche and dashed inside, Grace had told him that Megan wasn’t there. She’d left Ryan with Grace and gone to her mother’s. Some family emergency, Grace said.

  That had been nearly five hours ago.

  He’d worked on the tree house with Ryan, eaten dinner with Ryan and Grace and listened to Ryan read two chapters of Goosebumps to him before bedtime. Ryan had insisted Alex tuck him in instead of Grace, which had brought a frown to the woman’s face, but she’d allowed it. Then he’d settled down to wait for Megan.

  He was still waiting.

  Grace had been reluctant to say much about Megan’s family, only that Megan was the one her mother and two sisters turned to whenever there was a problem. There must be one hell of a problem for her to be gone so long, he thought.

  Alex flicked on the television, channel surfed a bit, but nothing held his interest. He was too annoyed to fall asleep. And a bit worried. The country roads around Twin Oaks were winding and twisting, dark and dangerous. Maybe he should ask Grace for Megan’s mother’s phone number and call over there. Just to offer his services if needed. Nah. He could just imagine how Megan would react to that, as independent as she was. Propping his feet on the footstool, Alex settled back and closed his eyes.

  It was some time later when he heard a car turn into the parking lot There was no mistaking Megan’s wheezing old Mustang. Alex sat up and waited for her to come inside.

  And waited. When several minutes had gone by and the front door hadn’t opened, a puzzled Alex got up and walked outside. Megan’s car was in its usual spot, but she was nowhere to be seen. Frowning, he went around to the side, looking every which way. There was a nearly full moon in an inky sky tonight, lighting the way even after he’d walked past the lampposts in the parking lot.

  He was on the garden path when he spotted her climbing up the hill, her slim figure silhouetted in the pale moonlight. She was probably on the way to her favorite spot, Alex decided, and hurried to follow. Something was going on in her head, maybe more than a family crisis, and he was determined to find out what it was.

  He moved slowly, quietly, not wanting to spook her, for he imagined she thought herself alone. When he cleared the ridge, he saw she’d climbed onto a six-foot-high boulder and was sitting with her shoulders slumped, her head down. It was a moment before he realized she was weeping.

  “Megan,” he whispered, and hurried to her.

  Her head swiveled around and she quickly swiped at her cheeks. “What...what are you doing up here?”

  “I could ask you the same thing.” She looked even paler in the silvery moonlight, her eyes haunted. “What’s wrong? Is it your mother?”

  Of course, he’d have learned where she’d gone from Grace. “No, she’s fine.”

  Standing alongside the boulder, he reached up and helped her down. “One of your sisters, then? Is someone hurt?”

  “My youngest sister, Jeannie. She’s pregnant and wants to marry the guy. Mom doesn’t want her to.” Megan dug for a tissue in the pocket of her slacks, wiped her face.

  “Is that why you’re crying?”

  “No.” She didn’t want to tell him why, that he was the reason. She was so tired after listening to her mother rant and rave for hours, both her sisters crying. She had no easy answers to offer, steeped in her own problems, her own worries.

  After the euphoria of yesterday, today she’d learned that Alex wasn’t what she’d thought. He was a playboy like Neal, only with money. Even if there had been a future for them, her discovery today dashed all hopes. She couldn’t go through all that again.

  “Then what is it? Tell me.” He tipped up her chin, forced her eyes still swimming with tears to meet his. “Tell me.”

  Her defenses down, feeling exposed and vulnerable, Megan closed her eyes. “I can’t!”

  “Yes, you can. Tell me, Megan. There’s nothing you can’t tell me.” What could be so terrible, so frightening?

  All right, she would. And then it would really be over for all time. She met his intense gaze, her heart in her throat. “It’s you. You went with those men. That’s the life you want, drinking with your buddies, boat rides, lots of willing women. Just like Neal. I...I thought you were different, but now...”

  Hands on her shoulders, he shook her gently. “No! That’s not true. I don’t drink at all anymore, Megan. I went with Glenn and Louie to explain to them that I’ve outgrown all that. It’s true, I used to be pretty wild. But not anymore. I used to want to go out all the time, but now, I want to be with you. Only you.”

  She wanted to believe him Lord, how she wanted to believe him. “But you left, you didn’t come back, and I—”

  “I did, but you were already gone. I made reservations for us to have dinner together, just the two of us, at a place called the Hideaway. Smell my breath, Megan. I drank iced tea. They laughed at me, but I didn’t care. I told them I was in love and no longer interested in playing the field. They didn’t understand and I feel sorry for them.” He studied her face, but still she held back. “Tell me that you believe me.”

  “I want to. But...but, Alex, you’re rich. You have so much money and I...I owe everyone. You’ve been everywhere, traveled, gone to the opera, the ballet, Europe. I’m a simple woman.”

  Was his money what all this was about? “I’m a simple man, too, even though I’ve traveled. I hate opera and I’ve never been to the ballet. We can go to Europe anytime you say, or anywhere else.”

  “No, you’re just saying that now. But later on, you’ll tire of me. We...we’r
e not compatible.”

  “Not compatible?” Anger rose in him, white-hot and fierce. “I’ll show you compatible.” He yanked her to him and crushed her mouth with his. The kiss was hard, unyielding, nothing like the others they’d shared. He plundered, ravished, his strong hands touching her possessively.

  Megan was pummeled by sensations that threatened to overwhelm her. She tasted frustration and desperation in his kiss. She felt him back her up to the huge boulder behind her, then he lowered his head to her breast, drawing deeply, savagely on her. The wild heat spread downward until she was writhing and twisting under his relentless onslaught.

  Alex was beyond slow loving, beyond gentle. He needed to convince her and maybe himself. He wanted to brand her, make her his, to let her know. Needing to taste her flesh, he ripped the blouse down the front, felt the buttons scatter, and then he feasted. He heard her cry out, her breath coming in short, ragged spurts, but he recognized not fear, not pain, but shocked pleasure.

  His fingers fumbled to open his jeans, then shoved her slacks down and off her trembling legs. Her chest was heaving now and her hands gripped his shoulders. His blood swam hot and tormented as he struggled to free himself. His fingers found her and he heard her cry out, a strangled sound.

  Megan felt his hard, rough hands travel over her, sending shivers of sensations throughout her sensitive system. She’d never known this kind of passion, never been wanted like this, never craved this dark, fierce mating. Until now. Boldly, she reached for him and heard his fierce intake of breath, felt him buck as her fingers curled around him.

  He was on the verge of exploding, Alex knew. But this was Megan, the woman he loved more than his own life, the one he desired more than his next breath. He looked at her in the moonlight, a question in his eyes.

  The expression on her damp face was utterly female. “I want you inside me, now.”

  With one fierce thrust, he was inside her, anchoring her legs around his body, feeling her heels dig in. Alex closed his eyes on the sheer pleasure of it, the raw beauty of it. He was exactly where he belonged. Never had he felt so certain.

  . He began to move then, wildly, ruthlessly. In a frenzy of need, he pounded into her, her body braced against the solid rock at her back. Her breathing was as ragged as his own as she climbed with him. Blood thundered in his veins like the savage sea in the distance. Her release came quickly, fueled by her emotions, driven by an urgency that totally controlled her. When she shuddered and her head dropped to his shoulder, he let himself follow.

  He held her there, leaning into her, barely able to keep them both upright as the afterwaves trembled through him. He clung, letting his breathing settle, hoping he hadn’t been too rough.

  Megan felt fiercely alive, her body glowing. She was outdoors in the moonlight, her blouse ripped open and her slacks and underwear scattered on the ground somewhere, nearly naked in the arms of a man who’d made love to her in a way she’d scarcely imagined, much less experienced. She should be angry, outraged. Instead, she was gloriously happy.

  For she’d watched his face, looked into his eyes, heard the sensual sounds he’d made at the moment when he’d emptied himself into her. Now she knew for certain just how well and completely she could satisfy a man. Neal’s infidelities hadn’t been her fault as she’d feared all along.

  Gently now that his anger had dissipated, Alex drew back slightly and let her regain her footing. “I’m sorry if I—”

  Megan pressed two fingers to his lips. “No, don’t apologize. I’m the one who should. I’m sorry I doubted you. I guess my insecurities run deeper than even I thought.”

  “I have a few myself. But not about you. I love you, Megan. I want you to know that, to believe it. Anything else we can work out.”

  Drawing him close again, Megan prayed he was right.

  Chapter 11

  Midmorning of the next day, Alex was in the lounge rearranging papers in his briefcase when he heard the unmistakable sounds of two young voices yelling. Neither sounded happy. Knowing that both Grace and Megan were upstairs readying the vacated rooms for new guests, he walked out the front door.

  Ryan’s closest friend, Bobby, was leaving by the driveway and Ryan was shuffling dejectedly toward the inn. And quite a sight he was. His sneakers were untied as usual, his jean shorts were hanging low and his striped T-shirt was dirty and torn on one sleeve. He was fighting tears, his face was smudged, and a nasty red bruise under one eye was beginning to swell. He also had a bloody nose.

  Alex waited for the boy to reach him.

  Ryan stopped two feet from Alex. “Hi.”

  “Hi yourself. Had a little scuffle, did you?”

  Sniffling noisily, Ryan nodded. “I got into a fight with Bobby.” He swiped at his nose, stared at the blood on his fingers.

  “I thought he was your best friend.” Alex handed him his handkerchief.

  “Not no more.” Ryan blotted his nose with the handkerchief.

  “I see.” Alex crouched down so they were face-to-face. “What was the fight about?”

  “He said bad things about my dad.”

  Uh-oh. Walk carefully here, Alex warned himself. “What kind of bad things?”

  “He said my dad spent all our money and that’s why Mom has to work so hard. His mom told him. And he...he said my dad had girlfriends. Lots of girlfriends.” Mopping his nose, Ryan squinted as he looked at Alex. “Married dads aren’t supposed to have girlfriends, are they?”

  When in doubt, go with the truth. “No, they’re not.”

  Ryan kicked at a pebble with a scruffy sneaker. “I guess Bobby was right, then. My dad was bad.”

  “Not exactly. Your dad did some bad things, but he wasn’t a bad man. There’s a difference, Ryan.”

  The boy looked up hopefully. “You think so?”

  “I’m sure of it.”

  “Alex, do you love my mom?”

  Nearly reeling from the abrupt change of subject, Alex cleared his throat. “What makes you ask?”

  “I saw you kiss her neck the other day in the kitchen. None of our other guests kiss her neck.”

  Alex sincerely hoped not as he swallowed a smile.

  “Well, do you?”

  Alex gave him a sheepish smile. “I guess you caught me. Yes, I do love her. How do you feel about that?”

  Screwing up his face, Ryan thought for a minute. “Are you going to take her away from me?”

  Alex’s reaction was immediate. “Whoa, never! What made you think that? If we ever leave here, you’ll come with us.”

  “Honest? You mean it?”

  He’d forgotten how often Ryan had been told things, promised things that had never turned out to be so. The legacy of his father and something Alex would have to overcome. “Honest. And another thing, Ryan. I won’t ever promise you something unless I’m really going to do it. Okay?”

  The boy studied him silently. “I guess it’s okay, then.” He glanced at his torn sleeve. “Mom’s gonna kill me. My shirt got ripped.”

  Straightening, Alex slipped an arm around the slim shoulders. “Let’s see if I can’t help you out with that.” Together, they walked around back.

  From the upstairs window where she’d been cleaning the room one of Alex’s old friends had vacated, Megan stepped back. She’d opened the window when she’d heard Ryan and Bobby shouting and had been about to yell down and ask what happened when she’d seen Alex stroll out. Curious as to how he’d handle the situation, she’d unabashedly eavesdropped. And was glad she did.

  “He handled that like a pro, didn’t he?” Grace asked, entering the room from next door.

  “Oh, you heard, too?” Megan shook her head. “I’m amazed.”

  “A born father, I’d say, wouldn’t you?” Grace winked and went back to hauling soiled bed linens down the stairs.

  Megan sat on the edge of the bed she’d just finished making up. A born father. Alex had been wonderful with Ryan from the start. He had to know that she and Ryan came as a package deal. I�
��m nuts about that boy, he’d once told her.

  And last night, on the hillside, he’d said more. I love you, Megan. Anything else we can work out. Could it really be happening, that he loved both her and her son? But what about all his money and all her debts and their entire future? Could all that be worked out? If you loved someone enough, did all the thousand other little details of your lives just fall into place to everyone’s satisfaction? Could it possibly be that simple?

  Sighing, Megan got up, patted the bed a last time, looked around the room to be sure she hadn’t forgotten anything, then moved on to the room Alex occupied.

  He was neat, she’d give him that. Neater than either she or Ryan. His clothes were all hung carefully in the closet, his underwear and socks in tidy piles in the drawers, the few items on the dresser top lined up just so, including a large assortment of pill bottles. Except for the bed.

  His bed hadn’t been slept in because he’d spent the night in hers. A nervous night for Megan since she’d worried that either Ryan on one side or Grace on the other would hear them. But she hadn’t wanted Alex to leave her after their rendezvous on the hillside. She’d been too mellow, too in love to part from him. Yet he’d left before anyone else in the house had awakened.

  Apparently, he’d come to his room and spent time going through some business papers since the spread was scattered with them. Megan decided to put them into several neat piles for him, then clean the bathroom. While she was straightening the last pile, something on the top sheet of paper caught her eye.

  Her husband’s name. The letterhead gave the address of the hospital in San Diego. Looking more closely, she read the heading. Liver Recipient List. And in the number-one position was Neal Delaney. In second place was Alex Shephard.

  What did this mean? Had both men been scheduled for surgery, but Neal had died before a liver had been located, so Alex, in the number-two position, had gotten the next liver? She didn’t know the date of Alex’s operation. But why would he have this list? When had he obtained it? Surely the hospital didn’t hand these out to just anyone. And if he had this list when he first showed up in Twin Oaks, that had to mean he’d known about Neal’s death. Why hadn’t he ever mentioned that?