Meg's Moment

by Amy Johnson

  He loved her; she knew that, even though he hadn’t told her. He liked her family, her friends, her pets. He was helping Stacy through AA and he accepted Mickey openly. He was a fantastic person, there was no denying that. But did that make him marriage material?

  She shivered and slinked out of bed.

  ‘Mrs. Megan Westin.’ ‘Mrs. Jackson Westin.’ Okay so maybe it rolled nicely off her tongue, but so did Megan Malone and what had that gotten her?

  She slipped out of his room quietly and headed for the front door before she realized she was naked. Clothes, she needed clothes. Her clothes were in Jack’s room. With Jack, who was sleeping and wanted to marry her. Involuntarily she shivered again and decided she’d risk going home naked before she’d wake him up and hash things out tonight. She needed space and time to think about things.

  The laundry room. There were clothes in there and she’d take dirty clothes over a marriage proposal any day. She entered the laundry room and opened the dryer door. “Thank you Jesus.” She pulled out of pair of Jack’s sweats and a Harley Davidson tee shirt that had seen better days and wrestled them on, foregoing her underwear and gathered up her purse and Spot. She ran them to the car then went back for the dogs, who were curled up at the foot of the bed snoring in sync with Jack. She whispered their names and Bitty raised his head. She motioned for him to come on and he stood, circled the bed and lay back down beside Jack where Megan had laid minutes earlier. Bugs, who was crashed out on the floor on Jack’s side of the bed ignored her. “Traitors,” Megan accused and slipped back out of Jack’s room. She’d collect the dogs tomorrow. She could deal with Jack tomorrow. Tonight she just needed to get the hell out of there. Quick!

  ***

  Jack awoke to the sensation of something warm and wet licking his chin. He smiled and decided to play possum so maybe she’d end up licking her way down his body below his belt. He remembered the first time she’d done that and the incredible feeling that had filled his entire body. Waking up with Megan in his bed was one thing, her naked in his bed was another, but her naked in his bed with her tongue on his…well that was beyond words.

  She was panting Jack noticed and again he smiled. She wanted him bad. She was impatient and he decided not to make her wait a moment longer. Still keeping his eyes closed he reached for her and his hands came in contact with…hair? Lots of it! He stiffened and opened his eyes quickly, coming face to face with an excited, overweight, dog licking him like he had a pork chop strapped to his head. He patted the dog and surveyed the room. Megan wasn’t in there but her clothes were still there, her shoes in front of the closet. Maybe she was in the shower, although he didn’t hear water running. Maybe she was in the kitchen grabbing a bite to eat or at the computer working on her column.

  Stretching lazily, he rose and pulled on a pair of boxers and strolled into the living room calling her name. She didn’t answer. Shit! Maybe she’d stepped out for something. He stumbled into the kitchen and put out some food for the pups— Megan had stocked his house as well as hers with puppy food. Remembering the fish, he went to the bookcase— where Spot lived during their visits— to feed him too, but Spot was gone. Jack eyed the coat rack and discovered Megan’s purse was gone too. What the hell? If she’d just stepped out she would have taken her purse, but not the fish. He looked around the kitchen counter, the table. No notes or at least there wasn’t one in any of the obvious places. Had she left without telling him? Without taking the dogs? That seemed very unlike her. He picked up the phone, listened for a dial tone and dialed.

  ***

  Megan had abandoned sleep for cheesecake. After defrosting her favorite, Strawberry Chocolate Swirl, she poured herself a large glass of milk and not bothering to even slice the cake because she’d end up eating the whole damn thing anyway she dug in. Spot eyed her longingly for a bite so she crumbled a little crust and tossed it in his bowl. He darted to the top, ate the now soggy substance and didn’t seem impressed. Fish were hard as hell to please.

  The ringing phone startled her and she let the machine pick it up. She couldn’t imagine anyone on the other end that she cared to talk to. Her mother would be calling to lecture, her father usually just showed up if he had something to say, and she didn’t have the energy to deal with Granny. Josie would be with Dr. Ross this early in the morning probably engaging in a quickie before they both had to go to work. Bill was home so Ali was busy being blissfully married, Mickey never got up before ten and Stacy was with Scott on a much needed get-a-away.

  That only left Jack, which Megan knew he was the caller. He hadn’t left a message but Megan knew it was him anyway because her heart flip-flopped and her nipples hardened. Damn, he’d gotten under her skin with that dark honey voice, those chocolate bedroom eyes, those experienced capable hands, those full, full lips and devilish grin. And that’s not mentioning the way he made sweet mindless love to her every night until she was so sated she wanted to smile and scream at the same time. And now he wanted to go and screw everything up by asking her to marry him.

  If he even remembered asking her. He’d been asleep when he said it and suddenly Megan kicked herself for not thinking about that. Maybe he was just talking gibberish in his sleep and had no clue what the hell he was saying. Maybe if she didn’t say anything about it and he didn’t remember it she could pretend it hadn’t happened.

  Nope that wouldn’t work. She heard him say it and if he was thinking about it subconsciously he’d bring it up sooner or later. It was inevitable that she’d have to deal with it.

  The phone rang again, and again she made no attempt to get up and grab it. And here she thought the Johnson women were persistent. Jack could definitely give them a run for the money.

  “What do you think Spot?” she asked the unconcerned fish. “Think mommy should answer that?”

  Spot retreated to his treasure chest. “You’re no help,” she told the fish.

  The machine picked up and this time she heard Jack’s strong, thick voice. “Megan, pick up.” A long pause passed then he said, “Pick up or I’m coming over.” Another pause then in a softer tone, “Come on, honey what’s wrong? Pick up.”

  The rest of his message was cut short by the beep on the machine. She settled her gaze on the half eaten cheesecake, her appetite now gone.

  Just a month ago her life was predictable, boring, safe. Now Ted was dead, she’d had bricks thrown at her, her house firebombed, been a murder suspect, had multiple orgasms and a man who she loved very much who wanted to marry her.

  “Ain’t life a bitch,” she told her fish and started up the stairs to take a shower and try to deal with millions of thoughts swimming around in her aching head.

  ***

  Where in the hell was she? He’d called her house and got the machine, she wasn’t at her parents and Mickey and Josie hadn’t heard from her. He tried her house again from his cell phone as he drove the short distance to her house. Shit, still no answer. Logically he knew she was safe; he’d had a long talk with the Madrino’s and was certain they wouldn’t mess with her anymore, plus they were on their best behavior awaiting trial for their previous indiscretions. And everyone else loved Megan, the woman had no enemies. Maybe something had happened to her grandmother, although he figured her mother would have said something if that were the case.

  “Oh hell,” he muttered to himself. It was as obvious as the nose on his face. Everything finally hit her. Ted’s murder, their relationship. She hadn’t taken the time to mourn, Jack knew that because he’d worried about it and now it had probably all hit home and she was probably feeling guilty and ashamed. Hell, she’d been making love with him the night Ted was murdered and she’d been on her knees so to speak when the call had come in from the police. He felt like a real bastard so he couldn’t imagine how she was feeling.

  He tapped the hard velvet box in his pocket. He’d been carrying it around for the past week waiting for the right time to ask her but suddenly he figured that that time was a ways off still. He removed th
e box from his pocket and tucked it in the glove box. He’d ask her and she’d say yes. Eventually. She had to because the thought of not waking up with her every morning for the rest of his life was something he simply couldn’t do. He loved her, had for fifteen years, and letting her go was something he just couldn’t do. Not now. Not ever. He’d be patient but he wouldn’t give up.

  ***

  Megan was blow drying her hair when she heard the doorbell ringing followed by loud, determined banging on the door. Jack. No doubt about it. She finger combed her damp hair and was halfway down the staircase when she heard his key hit the door. She tilted her chin, squared her shoulders and tried to prepare herself. The door swung open and Jack yelled her name, surveying the dark house.

  “Right here,” she said in a low voice and Jack startled and squinted to adjust his eyes to the darkness of the room.

  He put his hands in his pockets and stayed where he was standing. “Are you okay?” he asked in a controlled, calm voice.

  Shit, he sounded hurt. “Fine, why?”

  “You didn’t leave a note,” he said quietly.

  Crap, he’d been worried about her. “I didn’t want to wake you.”

  Jack flipped on the light to get a better look at her. She’d obviously just showered, and she didn’t look as if she’d been crying. That was a good sign. But still she looked like hell. Something was wrong.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked finally taking a step toward her. Megan wanted to fold herself into his strong arms and just forget what he’d said during his sleep.

  She forced a smile. He didn’t buy it for a second. “Nothing. I was just a little homesick I guess.”

  “You’re lying.” It was a statement not a question and she scowled at him. He read her too well, knew her too well.

  “No, I’m not. I had things to do.” He crossed his arms over his chest and narrowed his eyes. “Really I have lots of stuff to do. Plus I missed my dogs.”

  His jaw twitched and he frowned. “Megan, the dogs are at my house,” he said through clenched teeth. Shit, she’d forgotten she left them there. That was the problem with Jack, she couldn’t think straight around him. “Now care to tell me what’s wrong? Why I woke up to a dog fondling me and no sign of you. No explanation, note, nothing.”

  She fidgeted with her hands and kept her gaze averted to the floor. “Nothing’s going on, Jack. I just needed some space. To…think.”

  He sat then beside her at the bottom of the stairs. “What do you need to think about? Am I crowding you? Is this about Ted?” He tipped her chin up forcing her to make eye contact. “Or is this about us?” The look on her beautiful face answered his question and he felt like he’d been punched in the gut.

  She didn’t say anything so he said, “So it’s about us then.” Maybe he’d rushed her, not given her the time to grieve. But he’d backed off after Ted’s death and she’d sought him out. He’d told himself to give her some time, some space, but when he was around her the voices in his head were drowned out by the love in his heart, the passion in his groin. “Talk to me Megan. What’d I do?”

  Her eyes widened with shock. “Nothing! You didn’t do anything?”

  “Then what’s the deal?”

  “I just…I just need some time to sort things out.” He’d give her time but first he wanted to know exactly what she needed to sort out.

  “What things?” he asked quietly.

  “Just us, you know where we’re going. What happens next?” He thought about the ring in the glove box and considered excusing himself to go get it. The storm in her stunning blue eyes told him that was a bad idea.

  “What do you want to happen next?” he asked carefully, scared to push her too far but even more scared not to push at all.

  She hugged her knees to her chest. Not a good sign. “I don’t know, Jack. That’s what I’ve been trying to figure out.” A tear escaped and ran down her cheek twisting Jack’s guts. Tenderly he wiped it away and rubbed her cheek.

  “Do I get any say in this?” he asked. She lowered her head and hid her eyes.

  “What do you want, Jack?”

  “I want you, Megan,” he finally said. “That’s all I want. Just you, for as long as you’ll have me.” Oh Damn, oh damn, oh damn. His voice poured over her like warm honey.

  She met his gaze then. “Why?”

  “Because I love you.”

  “No you don’t.” Although she knew it was coming hearing the words cut her deep. She knew he loved her. Hell, she loved him, but she didn’t want to get married and she knew telling him that was going to hurt him. “Take it back.”

  “I won’t,” he shook his head and hauled her into his lap. “Hell, I can’t. I’ve loved you since the day I met you.” He kissed her forehead, her lips. “It’s always been you, babe. Only you.” She pulled away a little.

  “Why?”

  “Why not?” She stared at him, her expression unreadable. “Does love have to have a reason, Megan? It doesn’t work that way. My heart chose you and I’m not about to argue with it. My body, heart, and head are in total agreement. They all want you.”

  She was quiet so long Jack was tempted to check her pulse to see if she was still breathing. She looked at the floor and began to speak, then stopped.

  “I don’t want to get married,” she blurted finally.

  Shit. Jack frowned and eased back against the staircase. “Who said anything about marriage?” he asked calmly.

  Megan seemed surprised for a moment, surveying him wearily. “You did.”

  He did? “I did?” Maybe she’d found the ring or read his mind.

  “Yeah, last night when you were sleeping.” Jack sucked in a deep breath and blew it out slowly. “You were talking in your sleep and you said, ‘Marry me, Megan’ a couple of times.”

  “And that spooked you?” Jack asked, already knowing the answer.

  “Hell, yes it spooked me, Jack.” Her eyes swam with tears and her throat felt like it was slowly closing, leaving her struggling for breath. She didn’t want to hurt him, but even more she didn’t want to lie to him. “I mean, I’m pretty much a mess, Jack. First I find out all this stuff about Ted, I decide to divorce him and end up having to bury him instead. I’m thirty years old and I have to start my life all over again. I’m confused and scared and just when I think I’ve got a handle on things, you have to go and ask me to marry you.” Jack looked lost and sad and Megan’s heart ached for him, but she’d said what needed to be said. They’d vowed to be honest with each other and no matter how badly it hurt either of them; she intended to keep that promise. Jack was silent, his gaze on his feet.

  “You could say something here,” she told him.

  “Like what, Megan?”

  “Like you didn’t mean it, or that you have some sleeping disorder that makes you say crazy things, or that you just suffered from a single moment of temporary insanity.” He shook his head and frowned. “Or you could just take it back.”

  Jack stood, leaned against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest. He wanted to grab her in a fireman’s hold, haul her up those stairs and make love to her. Show her how much he wanted her, needed her, loved her. Instead he resisted the urge to reach out to her and ignored the hand she’d laid on his forearm.

  “I won’t take it back, Megan. It would’ve come up at one time or another. I love you, always have and that’s not likely to change.” He attempted a smile and failed. Shaking his head he continued, “Hell, I’ve even been carrying a ring around with me for the past week, just waiting for the right time. Guess my subconscious got ahead of me.” He barked a dry laugh. “I’m sorry Megan, but I can’t, won’t take it back.” She didn’t say anything and Jack couldn’t bear the silence that was ringing in his ears. “I should go. You know where to find me if you need me. The dogs are in my backyard. Feel free to get them whenever you want. I’ll be gone most of the day.” He touched two fingers to his lips for a sensual kiss then gently touched them to her lips. After a moment he tu
rned and left without another word. Megan wanted to run after him, but her legs wouldn’t move. Her head hurt, her heart ached, and her eyes stung from the tears she’d held back. As soon as she heard his car door slam she let them flow and cried. And cried. And cried.

  ***

  Jack left Megan’s and drove around resisting the miserable urge to find a bottle, crawl inside it, and never come out. He felt like he’d been sucker punched in the heart. She didn’t love him. He’d given her ample opportunity to tell him if she did but she never took the bait. He knew asking her to marry him would be tricky. She had trust issues thanks to Ted and was scared of getting burned once again by love. What she didn’t understand was he wasn’t Ted and she shouldn’t make him pay for the mistakes Ted had made.

  Jack stopped at a red light and glanced out his window at the neon sign that read ‘The Longhorn’. Now that had been one hell of a night. Visions of Megan bending over that pool table attempting shots, her backed up against the wall while he drove her crazy with his hands…his mouth…his fingers. Then they were in his garage on his bike and she straddled him and he saw stars. And that bed. The things they’d done in that bed. He closed his eyes and remembered the way she felt, tasted, the way she bit her lip when she climaxed, the ways she arched her hips to him to take him deeper…deeper…until he thought he would explode…

  A horn was blaring. “Move it asshole,” some guy was yelling from the car behind him. Jack shook himself out of his little reverie and noticed the light had turned green. Jack accelerated and drove around for what seemed like forever and ended up in the parking lot of ‘The Longhorn’ once again. If he went in, he’d piss away five years of sobriety and probably waste the rest of his life brooding on it. He checked his watch. Ten-thirty. Too early for a meeting or at least any he knew of. He could go to work, but he wouldn’t get a damn thing done. He dug for his cell phone and punched in Stacy’s number.