Trinity Falls

by Regina Hart

  “And now you’re back.”

  “But Ramona and I aren’t together.”

  Quincy rubbed a palm across his broad, dark forehead. “Not because she isn’t trying.”

  “What have you been doing to win her over?”

  Quincy threw his hands up. “What could I do? I can’t compete with you. Besides, you said she knows I’m attracted to her. Well, she never said anything to me. Obviously, she’s not interested.”

  Ean rubbed the back of his neck. “So instead of even trying, you’re just going to blame me for your failed love life and end our friendship.”

  Quincy looked away. “I’m done with living in your shadow.”

  Ean’s eyes stretched wide. “What are you talking about?”

  Quincy returned his glare to Ean. “You think you won those high school football championships by yourself? You weren’t the only player on the field.”

  “We were the Terrible Trio. No one ever singled me out.”

  “You were the star quarterback. Everyone wanted to interview you. All the girls wanted to go out with you. Everyone’s parents wanted their sons to be like you.”

  The accusations were so absurd they made Ean’s head hurt. “That’s not the way I remember it.”

  Quincy quirked a brow. “Then you’re remembering it wrong. Ask Darius.”

  That scared him. Did Darius harbor the same resentments toward him that Quincy had? It didn’t seem that way.

  Ean studied his friend, seeing him with fresh eyes. This wasn’t the same guy who’d lined up against much bigger opponents and run through them. “You’re a coward, Q.”

  Quincy’s features tightened even as he shrugged. “If it makes you feel better to think so.”

  “It doesn’t. You used to be fearless. You went after whatever you wanted, whether it was a football championship, a college scholarship or a doctorate. When did you lose your nerve?”

  “I haven’t.”

  Ean saw the heat of anger in his best friend’s eyes. Good. “Or maybe Ramona isn’t that important to you. I can understand. I don’t know what I saw in her, either.”

  “Don’t blame her for your failures.” Quincy’s response was swift and vicious.

  “Don’t blame me for yours.” Ean turned to leave. If their friendship was over, he’d accept it. There wasn’t anything more to say.

  Quincy’s voice stopped Ean in his tracks. “Don’t insult her just because she dumped you.”

  Finally, someone believed that Ramona had dumped him—although why that should make him happy...

  Ean looked over his shoulder. “If you want her, fight for her.”

  He had enough on his plate without adding Responsible for Quincy’s Love Life to it.

  Ean walked out of Quincy’s townhome, pulling the door closed behind him. That made two confrontations down—Ramona and Quincy. One to go. But before he dealt with the third confrontation, he needed more information, and he knew just the person to approach for it.

  “Can I buy you lunch?” Ean stood on the top step outside of Megan’s front door. He held a bag of fast food aloft. The scents emanating from the bag reminded him he’d eaten breakfast almost five hours before, and it hadn’t been much of a meal.

  Megan’s skeptical gaze swung from Ean to the bag. She stepped aside to let him enter her home. “Why don’t I make lunch for us?”

  A rush of relief eased the tension in Ean’s shoulders. He accepted Megan’s welcome and crossed into her home. “I thought you liked fast food.”

  Megan’s full pink lips struggled with a smile. Her gaze dipped to the bag. “I draw the line when there’s more grease than meat on the sandwich.”

  Ean looked at the stained bag. “I guess you have a point.”

  “You guess?” Her chocolate eyes shone with laughter. “I think I’m getting to you just in time to save your arteries.”

  He followed her across the sunny foyer, past the causal living room, through the formal dining room and into the cozy kitchen. Megan’s home woke half-forgotten memories for Ean: meeting Ramona’s grandparents and nervously seeking their approval; picking up Ramona for a Saturday night movie.

  Megan had changed the rooms a bit, with new furnishings and flooring, but they retained the same warmth and charm. It was a sharp contrast with Ramona’s coolly modern condo.

  Ean’s gaze toured the kitchen’s counters and cabinets, comparing his memories to the images around him. The color scheme had remained the same—blond wood cabinets, white-marble counters and pale green walls. But the appliances had been upgraded with a sleek, energy-efficient chrome refrigerator, oven and dishwasher. It was still a familiar, comfortable room—a harmonious blend of the past and present.

  He wandered farther into the room and put the fast-food bag into the trash. “The cookie jar is gone.”

  A quick grin flashed across Megan’s lush lips. “Blame that on your mother’s baking. Store-bought cookies aren’t appealing after tasting your mother’s pastries.”

  The kitchen was crowded with the scents of vegetables and seasonings. Across the room, Megan stirred the fragrant contents of a pot on the stove. The long, neat lines of her slender figure seemed calm and comfortable. She conveyed a serenity that invited him to relax after his contentious meeting with Quincy. “What are you making?”

  “Chicken stew.”

  His mouth watered. If the meal tasted as good as it smelled, he was in for a treat. “What can I do to help?”

  Megan inclined her head toward the cupboards beside him. “You can set the table.”

  Grateful for something to do to keep his mind occupied with thoughts other than Megan’s firm curves and long limbs, Ean collected the dishes and silverware for the table settings. He gave Megan two soup bowls before crossing to the refrigerator. He poured two glasses of iced tea and added them to the settings. He also set out a plate of crackers to accompany the stew.

  Megan joined him at the table. She offered him one of the bowls of stew before setting hers on the table and taking her seat.

  Ean sampled the dish. “Delicious.”

  Megan’s smile mesmerized him. “Thank you.”

  They ate in companionable silence for a while before Megan spoke. “My grandparents liked you, so you know you’re always welcome here. But why are you here?” Her voice was light and teasing, further putting him at ease.

  Ean inhaled the warm, savory scents wafting up to him from his soup bowl. “When I first saw you and Quincy enter the restaurant last night, it never occurred to me that the two of you might be on a date.”

  “That’s flattering.”

  Ean winced at her dry tone. “I’m sorry. That didn’t come out right.”

  “Then try again.”

  Ean took a moment to collect his thoughts. “The evening with Ramona wasn’t going well. I thought inviting you and Quincy to join us would distract Ramona.”

  “I don’t think that worked out for you.”

  “Not as well as I’d hoped.”

  “I can’t blame a man for trying.” Megan seemed unaware of his discomfort. She continued eating her chicken stew.

  Ean’s eyes moved over Megan’s delicate features, her wide chocolate eyes, high cheekbones, long, elegant nose and stubborn pointed chin. The realization that he could watch her all afternoon filled him with a strange restlessness.

  “Have you and Quincy ever dated?”

  Megan paused. “Why are you asking?”

  He shrugged with more nonchalance than he felt. “Curiosity.”

  “Some would call it nosiness.”

  A reluctant grin tugged at his lips. “OK. Nosiness. But the two of you would make a good couple.” The words didn’t come easily. “You’re both even tempered. You share similar interests, and you’re both intellectually curious.”

  Megan tilted her head. “You make us sound like brother and sister.”

  “That’s not what I meant.” Was he doomed to insert his foot into his mouth each time he spoke with her? Little Mega
n McCloud had grown into an intimidating woman.

  “Would you like to try again?” Megan’s calm, steady gaze made Ean feel like an insecure teenager.

  He took a deep breath and tried again. “I meant you’d make a good couple because you’re similar.”

  “Yes, like brother and sister. Like you and Ramona.” Megan sipped her iced tea.

  Ean’s brows knitted. “You think Ramona and I are like brother and sister?”

  “Especially in high school.” She continued eating her stew as though she hadn’t just blown his mind.

  “How?”

  “You had similar interests. You both enjoyed the limelight. You were both popular. And you both defined success as shaking Trinity Falls’s dust from your sneakers.”

  “We had similar goals. That doesn’t mean we were like brother and sister—”

  She interrupted him. “You were each other’s mirror. You didn’t challenge each other. You were more like group think.”

  Ean sat back in his chair. The remainder of his chicken stew cooled in front of him. “Does Quincy challenge you?”

  Megan swallowed a spoonful of stew while her big brown eyes seemed to read his thoughts. “Why don’t you ask me what’s really on your mind?”

  He was reluctant to accept her invitation. Instead, he searched for a less incriminating question. “Did you know that Quincy’s in love with Ramona and has been since high school?”

  Megan’s expression told him she knew that wasn’t what he’d wanted to ask her. She stood, carrying her bowl to the sink. “I’ve had my suspicions.”

  Ean followed her with his own bowl. “Am I the only one who didn’t know?”

  “You’ve only been back in Trinity Falls for a month. Don’t be so hard on yourself.” Megan scraped the remains of her lunch into the garbage disposal before turning to take his nearly empty bowl.

  “How do you feel about Quincy being in love with Ramona?”

  Megan hesitated before stacking their dishes into the dishwasher. “What are you asking?”

  “I’d think it would be hard if a guy you liked fell in love with your cousin.”

  The air drained from the room and Megan’s lungs. Was he kidding? She straightened from the dishwasher, struggling to draw her next breath. “I’m sure it would be, if I were interested in Quincy romantically.”

  “Are you dating anyone?”

  “Not at the moment.”

  “Why not?”

  He can’t be serious.

  Megan turned to face Ean. “You sound like my grandmother. She’d always ask me, ‘Meg, when are you going to find a nice young man?’ And I’d say, ‘Gran, they don’t make them like Gramps anymore. ’”

  She still believed that. Her grandparents had been friends and lovers, as well as business partners. They each were everything the other had needed. That’s the kind of relationship she was holding out for. The type of relationship she believed she could have with Ean, if only . . .

  “I’m surprised there aren’t at least a couple of guys trying to get your attention.”

  Megan maneuvered around Ean to continue clearing the kitchen table. She carried the plate of cracker crumbs and their drink glasses to the sink. “Is that because of your experience with guys breaking down my grandparents’ front door in junior high school and high school?”

  Ean stepped out of her way to allow Megan access to the sink. “It’s more about the person you’ve become. You’re successful, which is appealing. You’re smart, which is very sexy, and you’re—”

  “Stop right there.” Megan held her palm out. “If you’re going to complete the terrible three, I don’t want to hear it.”

  Ean frowned. “What ‘terrible three’?”

  Megan held up a finger for each feature. “Successful, smart and a good personality. Whenever a friend or neighbor wants to set you up with someone who meets those qualifications, it usually means he has some sort of fatal flaw, like a horse laugh or poor grooming habits.”

  “I wasn’t going to say that you have a good personality.”

  Megan turned from the sink and settled her hands on her hips. “Why not?”

  “You’re too bossy.”

  Megan’s jaw dropped. “No, I’m not.”

  “And too confident. You border on arrogant. Men find that intimidating.”

  Megan arched a brow. “Maybe weak men.”

  He stepped in closer, giving her a slow, sexy smile. “I’ve never considered myself weak, and you’ve had me shaking in my shoes since I came back.”

  His voice was too low, casting a spell on her. Megan could smell him—soap and musk. His scent made her stomach muscles quiver. His warmth wrapped around her. Megan gripped the counter behind her to keep from swaying into him.

  Who’s shaking now?

  CHAPTER 12

  “Maybe you’re not as strong as you think.” Megan cleared her throat.

  It was hard to concentrate with Ean’s body so close to hers. Step back, her mind shouted at him. Her eyes widened as he drew even closer instead. It was as though he’d read her mind and chose to defy her.

  Ean lowered his head. “Maybe you’re stronger.”

  She’d have to disagree. Right now, with Ean’s body heat slipping into her clothes, she had as much strength as a newborn baby. Her body was so limp, she was in danger of melting into the ground.

  “You don’t need to stand this close to hear me.” What happened to her voice? She could barely hear herself.

  But she could hear her heart, slamming against her chest. Hear the warnings, screaming in her head. Run before you do something stupid like kiss him back if he kisses you.

  Oh, please let him kiss me!

  “But I need to stand this close to taste you.” The intensity in his olive gaze pinned her. His rough voice made her body ache.

  Megan’s breath left her in a gasp. She opened her mouth to speak, and Ean sealed her lips with his.

  The man knew how to work his tongue. He slid into her mouth and explored every inch of that erogenous zone. Megan’s pulse beat fast and hard. The combination of his smell, his touch, his taste, made her mind spin. He stroked the sides of her mouth, teased her tongue. He tasted wonderful. He felt great. She wanted more.

  Ean wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer. Megan moaned as he pressed his chest to her breasts. Her nipples tightened. An urgency grew in her. Ean’s big hands traced her back. He traveled the curve of her waist to her hips, then cupped her derriere. Her core burned hotter. Megan’s hips jerked against him.

  Ean deepened their kiss. He drew her even tighter against him. She felt the throbbing between his legs against her. It echoed her pulse. His right hand followed her curves back up to her left breast. His big hand gently squeezed its weight. The tip of his finger traced the nipple, circling it until Megan wanted to cry from the sensations tightening inside her body.

  Her breath drained from her lungs. Was she having an out-of-body experience? She wanted more. She needed more. She had to . . .

  . . . pull back. Megan bit her lower lip.

  Ean’s unfocused gaze found hers. “What is it?”

  Megan’s pulse still raced. Her body throbbed in places with an intensity it never had before. She took a deep breath, then another. “Ramona.”

  Ean’s breathing was still ragged. “She broke up with me. Remember?”

  “I don’t want to be your rebound romance.”

  Ean expelled a rough sigh. “It was six years ago. I’ve rebounded.”

  Megan examined his dark, chiseled features—his irritated olive eyes, his thickly knitted brows and his full, sensuous lips, which had once again pulled her hidden desires to the surface.

  “I had a crush on you in junior high school.” Why had she blurted that out? What had she been thinking?

  “Really?” Ean’s eyes twinkled and his sexy smile stretched his lips.

  Megan circled him to put distance between them. “If you didn’t return for Ramona, then why did you come
back to Trinity Falls?”

  Ean held her gaze for several silent seconds before turning his broad back to her. Her eyes traced his wide shoulders, then lowered to his tight buttocks. She should have removed his shirt when she’d had the chance.

  Ean dragged his right hand over his close-cropped, tight curls. “Something happened to me after my father died. My job, the firm, New York didn’t hold any interest for me anymore. I felt disconnected.”

  All thoughts of stripping off his shirt vanished from Megan’s mind. Empathy replaced lust. “That’s part of your grieving process. Give yourself some time.”

  He turned to her. “It’s been almost a year.”

  “It takes as long as it takes.”

  “It’s not about time. I need answers, Megan.”

  Her heart clenched at the pain in his voice. “To what?”

  Ean paced the length of her kitchen, past the table and back. The hurt in his voice hinted at the torment in his eyes. “Why didn’t my mother call me as soon as my parents found out my father had cancer?”

  Megan didn’t want to betray a friend. At the same time, she didn’t want her friend to be blamed for something that wasn’t her idea.

  She wandered to her blond wood table and lowered herself into the closest chair. “Your father didn’t want her to.”

  His shock slammed into her from across the room like a body blow. “How do you know that?”

  Megan looked up at him. Ean was so still. “It’s the only thing that makes sense. Your mother would have told you about your father’s illness—unless he specifically asked her not to.”

  He started his uneasy pacing again. “You’re speculating. When I asked her why she hadn’t told me about Dad’s cancer right away, she said there wasn’t anything I could do but worry.”

  Megan tilted her head. “Doesn’t that sound more like something your father would say?”

  Ean stopped, staring at the faux-stone flooring. “Why wouldn’t she just tell me Dad didn’t want me to know?”

  “Doreen wouldn’t want you to be angry with your father, but I don’t want you to be angry with her.”

  “It doesn’t matter that he didn’t want me to know. If the situation had been reversed, I would’ve told her.”