Unable to face the quiet of the house, Meg grabbed her purse and coat. Train had left the keys to his truck on the hook, so she grabbed them and headed out. On the way to the grocery store, she spotted a new shop, one she hadn't seen before. Love and Lace looked like a lingerie shop, from the mannequins. She didn't remember hearing anything new was coming to town.
Curious, she pulled over to the curb. She hadn't given much thought to underthings that were anything but practical for years, until she'd met Train. He liked silk, lace and sometimes even leather against her skin. She liked it, too. In fact, she was wearing something that was mostly lace beneath her run-of-the-mill outfit now.
Inside the store smelled vaguely fruity, like there was a scented candle that she couldn't see. “Good afternoon.” The woman behind the counter spoke with a smile. She was pretty, with dark hair pulled in a ponytail. “Can I help you find something?”
“I'm just looking.” Meg hoped like hell the woman would leave it at that. Shopping for clothes wasn't a fun thing for her, and when an overeager sales clerk followed her like a puppy, it gave her serious anxiety. Thankfully, the woman remained behind the counter.
Meg found herself with an armful of items in no time. She came to her senses; she couldn't spend nearly two hundred dollars on lingerie, no matter how pretty it was. Train had given her the card for groceries and things like the cable bill.
“Need help finding other sizes, hon?” the woman called out.
“No. Thank you, but I just realized that I grabbed way too much stuff. Everything is so pretty.” Meg smiled at the woman, hoping to ease the blow of the lost sales. “I'm going to take these, though.” There was maybe fifty dollars worth of stuff left in her hand.
“If it'll entice you to buy more, I'll give you ten percent off,” the woman offered.
“That's really sweet but I can't spend that much,” Meg replied. “Sorry.”
“Don't be sorry.” The woman smiled and it seemed sincere. “Stock moves pretty quick, but if you see something you really like, I'll hold it for you until you come back. I know how much it sucks to come back for something and find it gone.”
“That's really, really sweet of you, but that's okay. Besides, if your stock is always this good, I won't have a problem finding something the next time that I come. This place is really nice. How long have you been open?”
“Oh, only a couple of weeks. I did some advertising. In hindsight, I should have done more. I'm Andrea. by the way. My friends call me Drea.”
“I'm Meg.” She carried her items over to the counter. “It's nice to meet you, Drea.”
“It's nice to meet you, too.” Andrea reached for the items and began to ring them up. “Great choices, by the way.”
“Thanks.”
“Are you a dancer?”
“No.” Meg shook her head. “Why do you ask?”
“A lot of my customers are dancers,” Andrea replied. “And I'm not being judgey. I've danced before.”
“I don't judge, either, but I don't dance. No one is paying to see all of this jiggle.”
“Trust me, I'm sure that there are plenty of people who would pay to see you jiggle.” Andrea smiled, and it made her words seem sincere.
“Thanks, but I don't think I could ever do that. All of those people watching me half naked is like that nightmare where you're naked in front of the class on steroids.” Meg reached into her purse and took out her wallet.
“Joseph Grimes?” Andrea read the name off of the credit card Meg handed over.
“My old man,” Meg explained. “That's not a problem, is it?”
“No. I just need to see your ID so I can record it, just in case this is credit card fraud.”
“Sure.” Meg dug out her ID. “It's a sucky picture.”
“Aren't they all?” Andrea smirked. “I'll show you mine one day.”
<#<#<#<#
“How is there no chunky peanut butter?” Meg grumbled to herself and stared at the blank space on the shelf. It was the last item on her list and Train's favorite.
“Life is full of such problems.” The voice that spoke from behind her was familiar, too familiar. Meg knew that it was Carlos before she turned. He grinned. “Hello, Meg.”
“What the fuck do you want?” Meg hoped her voice sounded strong and confident. Even if it did, the fact that she backed right into the shelf full of peanut butter and sent some of it falling ruined the effect. Carlos just laughed; it was a sound that she remembered so well it made her feel sick to her stomach.
“What do I want? I don't want anything. I just saw you and figured I'd say hello. Well, at first I wasn't even sure that it was you with all the weight you've gained. Are you pregnant?”
“Go to hell.”
Carlos ignored the suggestion. “You should probably eat more salads instead of the shit in your cart, and of course, more exercise. And exercise can be fun. You remember the fun we used to have. I bet you burned tons of calories.”
“Actually, I don't remember, since you drugged me.” Meg was surprised that she was able to say anything. He looked almost exactly the same as he had when she'd been head over heels for him, except maybe a little more gray in his goatee.
“Drugged you? Is that the story that you're going with?” Carlos laughed again. “And people believe you when you say that? I've never seen you happier than when you were filled up. I get why you'd say that you were drugged and didn't remember. You're worried about what your old man will really think of you, right? When he realizes that his precious old lady is actually a nasty, dirty whore?”
“You're a liar. You know as well as I do.” The fear of seeing Carlos had faded some. Instead of cowering, Meg realized she wanted to punch him in the face repeatedly for all the shit that he'd caused for her.
“What I know and what people believe are two different things. Don't ever forget that.” Carlos took a step closer to her.
“Is this guy bothering you, Meg?” Monroe spoke from behind her, and she nearly jumped out of her skin. Relief flooded through her. Instinctively, she moved back from Carlos and towards him.
“I'm not bothering her, just saying hello to an old friend,” Carlos answered. “It's good to see you again, Monroe.”
Good to see him again? How did Carlos know Monroe? Meg felt like she was missing a key piece of the puzzle. The two men stared at each other for a moment more. If they had been in a movie, ominous music would have played. Finally, Carlos smirked and then and walked away.
“You know him?” Meg demanded once he was gone. “How do you know him?”
“It's club business,” Monroe replied. “That's all I can say. Come on, I need to grab some spinach, and then we can check out together. I'll help you get everything out in the truck.”
Meg stared at him blankly for a moment; most of his words hadn't really registered with her. She was stuck on the fact that Carlos had something to do with club business. What could his connection to them possibly be? And was that why he was still breathing?
“Meg?”
“I didn't hear you,” she replied.
“Let's get out of here. I'll help you get the bags out to the truck.” Monroe took hold of her cart. “Do you have everything you need?”
“No.” She really didn't. She didn't have the answers she needed, that was for sure. “I need chunky peanut butter.”
“Looks like they're out.” Monroe scanned the shelf. “Smooth is going to have to work.” He tossed a jar into the cart. “I need spinach. Did you have lunch? I'm starving. Hey, let's go to Gino's. They make the best personal pies as lunch specials.”
“I'm not hungry.”
“You will be once you smell the pizza, trust me.” Monroe flashed her a charming smile. “And it'll give me a chance to pick your brain.”
“Pick my brain about what?”
“There's this woman...” Monroe trailed off. “I'll tell you all about her while we eat.”
<#<#<#<#
Meg heard the front door slam and the h
eavy sound of Train's footsteps as he came towards the kitchen. “Is that soup? Did you make soup?”
“Chicken noodle,” she confirmed with a glance over her shoulder. “What happened to you?”
“What?”
“There's blood on your forehead.”
“It's not mine. Don't ask. You'll lose your appetite.” He came over to stand behind her. “Did you make bread?”
“I bought bread at the grocery store. It'll be just as good.” She turned to face him. “How does Monroe know Carlos, and what does it have to do with Nightshade?” Meg had gone back and forth while she cooked as to how to broach the subject. In the moment, head-on seemed to be the best way.
“What?” Train frowned and she knew that he'd heard her.
“You heard me. Carlos was at the grocery store today. So was Monroe. They knew each other, and Monroe said it was club business. So now, I'm asking you.”
“It's complicated, Meg.”
“I'm pretty smart, I think I'll be able to follow along. What the fuck, Train?” Meg demanded. “Please, talk to me. Please.”
“Did Carlos ever talk about his father?” Train asked after a moment.
“No,” she replied. “Why?” Meg was getting more and more confused by the second.
“Nightshade deals with his father. I'm not going to give you all of the details, but it's a touchy arrangement. Gagliardi is connected.” He looked at her as if that should make perfect sense and explain anything. It didn't. Train seemed to realize that and he sighed. “If anything happens to Carlos, those connections will not be pleased.”
“So, he just keeps on swimming?” Meg let out a laugh. “You know what, that's absolutely perfect. My entire life has gone to shit, and he just keeps getting to do whatever the fuck he wants. Yeah, that sounds about right.”
“It's not the ideal situation. I admit that.” He reached out for her, but she pulled back from him. “Don't do that.” His hand gripped her chin. “Don't. I love you. I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I can't do what I promised you that I would. I'm sorry that he's still breathing. I'm sorry.”
Meg wasn't sure what to do when he started to cry. She'd never seen him cry, and if asked, she would have said that he never cried. Yet, here he was in front of her as open and exposed as she'd ever been with him. “Shh.” She didn't know what to say to comfort him, so she went with what she knew, moved closer to him and wrapped her arms around him. He grabbed her so tight that she couldn't even draw in a full breath, but it didn't matter.
They stood there for what seemed like forever, wrapped in each other. He stopped crying but didn't speak. She didn't, either, because she still wasn't sure what to say. She wanted to tell him what he needed to hear. Finally, he ran his hands over her back, pressed his lips to her forehead. “I love you.”
“I love you,” Meg replied without hesitation. “Do you still want that soup, or do you just want to go upstairs?”
“I'm going to take a shower. Go on and eat if you're hungry.” There was something so defeated in his tone that Meg feared she would start to cry.
“I'm not,” she told him. “It'll just taste better the longer it simmers, anyway. I could use a shower, if you want the company.” Meg never expected to see hesitation flicker through his eyes before he responded. Normally, he never turned down the opportunity to get her naked, especially if it involved the shower. “Or not, whatever. I can go after you.”
“What do you think?”
“Right now, I don't know. I think that your head might be getting loud and you might want time to yourself. I'd get that. I'd understand...” He cut her off with his mouth and his hands. Meg felt her back hit the counter hard and she gasped when his fingers gripped the long tee shirt she was wearing as a nightgown. Meg lifted her arms, and then the material was just a ball on the floor.
She knew that she was right about his head being loud by the way he touched her; his hands were rough and his eyes intense. She spread her legs to give him easier access. He let out a grunt that sent a spark straight to her clit. “Keep your eyes open.” He nipped down on her bottom lip. “Look at me.” Meg met his eyes, and he slid his fingers between her legs. “Good girl.”
“It's probably sick how much hearing you say that turns me on.” Meg fought to keep her eyes from closing as his fingers stroked over her clit. “Oh, don't stop.” She gripped the edge of the counter to stay upright. He knew just where to touch her, just how to touch her. Sensations swarmed through her. It was so good it was getting harder to keep her eyes open and on him.
Movement outside the kitchen window behind them caught her eye. At first, she thought that she'd imagined it, but then there was the definite shape of someone standing there. She could see the shadow, not the face. “Stop. Stop! There's someone outside. I saw someone outside the window.”
“You have got to be kidding me.” Train pulled back from her, took off his black thermal. “Put this on.” He blocked her from the view of the window until she was covered. “I'm going outside. Lock the door behind me and stay put. It's probably just some kids screwing around, but better safe than sorry.”
Meg watched him go out the back door with his gun in his hand. She barely even noticed the weapons anymore, they were such a part of their lives. It might have been kids screwing around, but their lives were much more interesting than that. She shut the blinds and sat down at the table to wait.
There was a knock on the door. “It's me,” Train called from the other side of the door. She opened it. “There was no one out there.”
“Someone was.”
“I believe you,” he said. “They must have ran when you screamed.”
“After they got a nice free show,” Meg replied. “I never even thought about the shades. I should have shut them before you came home.”
“It's not your fault some idiot wanted to peek in the windows. I'll have Rick come back, put in some cameras. Once the weather breaks, I'll get a fence put up. You don't have to worry. And something tells me that completely killed the mood, didn't it?”
“I still want a shower.” She smiled over him. “And I'm not worried. I know that you'll keep me safe. You always do.”
“Not always,” he corrected. “Not now, not with Carlos. Don't forget that. I won't. Go on up and shower. I'm going to make sure everything is locked up, and then I'll join you.”
The mood between them had indeed been broken. Train had that look on his face again; it wasn't anger but sadness. Meg hadn't known she could hate Carlos more, but in that moment she did. He'd broken her once, and now he was breaking something in Train. She could only hope that she was strong enough to help him fix it.
<#<#<#<#
Sugar Sugar was packed when Meg walked in. Caroline was behind the counter, doing the work of what seemed to be three people. “Excuse me. Excuse me.” She made her way through the crowd as politely as she could.
“What are you doing?” Caroline asked as she came behind the counter.
“Giving you a hand,” Meg replied, though it should have been obvious. She moved into the back, washed up at the sink and was behind the counter taking orders in under a minute. With two people, the crowd of customers was gone in about ten minutes.
“I've never had that happen before.” Caroline admitted when they were alone again. “There must have been an event in the area or something. Anyway, thanks for jumping in. You can grab whatever Train sent you for as your payment.”
“He might have mentioned wanting some of your special brownies when I told him that I was stopping here to restock the cookie jar.”
“You need to restock already? You got three dozen like two days ago.”
“Train's been on a cookie kick.” Meg bit back a sigh. He was also on a security kick. They now had four cameras recording every angle of the yard. She had a panic button on her keys, and he was talking about teaching her how to shoot. “I think I'll need like five dozen to be on the safe side.”
“I can do five dozen. It'll have to be assorted, though
. I didn't realize there was going to be a chocolate chunk crisis.”
“Assorted is fine, and I'll pay. Seriously, I don't mind.”
“Well, I do and it's my shop so...” Caroline trailed off with a grin. “Anyway, Amelia's finding out what she's having next week, and I was thinking we should do something for her, all the old ladies. Like going out to dinner or something. I'm trying to figure out when everyone is free.”
“My nights are pretty open. Just let me know.”
“I will. I'm working on a baby shower, too. Be warned, I will need help.” Caroline crossed over to the cooler. “You thirsty? Iced coffee?”
“Sounds good, thanks.” Meg walked over and grabbed a box for the cookies.
All That Matters (Nightshade MC Book 3) Page 27