Hidden (A McKenzie Ridge Novel Book 2)
Page 12
Shocked, Colton sat still waiting for her to be done before he stood, holding her while she still straddled him and carried her to the bathroom. He gently set her at the tub’s edge while he started the separate shower. While it warmed, he disappeared to the living room to quickly throw towels over the little bit of mess that didn’t land on either of them. Thank God for wood floors and leather furniture. He’d finish the rest in a few.
He returned to a now steamy bathroom and a mortified Megan slouching in front of the toilet, head resting on the cool toilet seat. His heart broke for her, trying to escape her worries for the night only creating new ones. He removed his clothing, then the one garment she had on still; her strip tease paid off in one regard tonight.
Sweeping her up, he cradled her in his arms and walked into the shower with her. He stood them both under the warm water, waiting for it to wash away all that plagued her. Her silent cries were given away by the shaking of her shoulders. He kissed her forehead and sat them both on the built in bench.
“Honey, I’ve been thrown up on before, comes with the job. It’s okay.”
She sniffled and looked to his eyes and said, “But it’s not. It’s not okay. I don’t deserve you. You don’t deserve this,” she said while scanning her hand from head to toe, indicating that she was this. “I have baggage, I’m a mess. I don’t belong here. I’m just drunk trouble and I have throw up in my haaaair.”
“Megan, honey, you’re a dream come true, you belong here. You and Jax both, and…”
“The BABY! Oh my God, I lost Jax!” She shot up, only to fall right back where she had been sitting.
“He’s fine! He’s fine!” He comforted, wrapping his arms around her. “He’s with Sam and Dawson for the night.” He kissed her shoulder as she relaxed back into him.
He spent the next several minutes tending to her, washing her hair, massaging as he did. Then he carefully washed her head to toe, making sure she felt his devotion. She may not have it all together at the moment, but the wine wouldn’t last forever and she wanted to be sure to remember the good parts of the night, like this. He wanted her to remember how much he took care of her, carried her burdens, mostly. Most of all, he wanted her to remember he loved her.
After towel drying her body and slipping one of his shirts over her, he tucked her in for the night. He promised to return quickly when she reached for him. He made his way to the living room to finish cleaning up and to grab her some Tylenol and water. She would need both after this.
When he returned to his room, he crawled into bed behind her, only to find her fast asleep. He smiled at her. So peaceful, so beautiful. He put the pills and bottled water on the nightstand within her view and reach, should she wake before him.
Before he lay down behind her, he dropped his head, landing a sweet kiss on her shoulder before whispering in her ear, “You do belong here, with me, always. You’re the dream come true that I’ve waited my entire life for. I’ll take care of you every day, and love you forever and beyond.”
She scooted back nuzzling her backside to his front before whispering back, “I love you too, Colton.”
He lay beside her, held her close, and fell asleep with his girl in his arms and a smile on his face.
Chapter 18
Megan woke to an obnoxious noise, assaulting smells, and unrelenting light. When she found her way from under the blankets, she was able to identify her annoyances as birds, breakfast, and what would typically be beautiful fall sunshine. She was pretty sure the devil himself was tightening the vice on her head while turning up the volume on the rest of the world. “Friggin’ birds!”
Memories of the night before swarmed through her head like a bad movie. Hopeful her memories were exaggerated versions of truth, the way she felt told another story. How humiliating. Flashes of Jessie laughing at her, and petting Morgan sunk in first. The fist pumping with Lou, and declaring her love for each of them paled in comparison to her ultimate humiliation. The most painful of all…those three little words she delivered after a high five to Blake. She told Colton she loved him.
Truth be told, she did indeed love him, but that was not how she wanted to tell him. With an audience that had video evidence. She closed her eyes in shame, scolding herself for being so irresponsible, and then she remembered her dance. Planting her face in her hands, she recalled every detail of her little dance of seduction, which was bordering cheap porn star quality. Then it hit her, her grand finale…epic embarrassment. She threw up all over the man she had just declared her love for. She was winning. Why couldn’t she be one of those drunks who forget everything instead of remembering in high def?
“You don’t like birds?” Colton asked with a puzzled look on his face. “I brought you breakfast, if you’re up to it.”
Startled, she quickly tried to hide her face in shame at the sound of his voice. She smacked her mouth open and closed trying to identify the wretched taste that was foreign until now, and to clear the dry cotton sensation that made her tongue feel glued to the roof of her mouth.
“I usually like birds just fine. They are just louder today than usual. Shouldn’t they have flown south by now? Ugh!”
She couldn’t help but notice how sexy he looked half dressed in gray sweatpants that rested low on his hips. She felt like shit, but she wasn’t dead, nor was her libido that was causing all kinds of tingling in all the right places. Who knew sweatpants were the new sexy? He needed those in every color, she thought.
“Take the Tylenol, you’ll feel better. Think you can handle a bit to eat?” He gave her his 100 watt smile; dimple included, and placed a large lap table between them on the bed.
It appeared that he thought of everything and it was set up as a mini family style buffet. He prepared bacon, a bowl of fresh fruit, scrambled eggs…that would be a hard pass, as well as a couple pastries, and some oatmeal with fixings on the side. She smiled at the last plate, her favorite…toast. He knew her so well, made it just the way she liked it slathered in a heart attack worthy amount of butter and almost burnt. He gave her a wink and a smile when she went for the toast.
“I wasn’t sure what you would feel like, so I went with a variety—should have known toast would be your pick,” he said.
“You can never go wrong with toast. This is…” she said, as she took a hearty bite, froze, stopped chewing, and made a sour face. “…disgusting!”
Colton’s face went from happy and light to seriously and concerned. Alcohol, hang over, of course it tasted awful, everything would for a while. He laughed as she quickly chewed, and reached for her coffee. Another bad move. She sat, watery eyes, with her hands over her mouth.
“Honey, you’ve never been drunk before have you?” He chuckled.
“Is that what this is? The wine? What did I do to myself? Oh my God, I need coffee, but it’s…not coffee, its poison!” She proclaimed.
“Stick to water for a bit and try getting some of that toast in. It’ll go away soon!” He assured her, even though she wasn’t buying it. “Are you still up to heading over to Portland? I can just have Sam and Dawson pick up the equipment for the House, and I’m sure they’d have no problem picking up that donation you needed to pick up for the Bizarre, too.”
“No!” Her reply was more of an urgent yell than she intended, but she had been looking forward to this trip to the city for over a month now. “They have a real mall there, and boutiques…are you kidding me? I’m not missing it! I need something to wear to the Gala that isn’t flannel or covered in faux fur!” She joked as she tossed a grape into her mouth, making that sour face again.
Her unease over the previous night’s blunders dissipated as an overwhelming rush of excitement took its place. A real mall, with real stores, full of impractical shoes, and a lot of non-flannel.
The two finished their breakfast and picked up where they had left off the previous night, before the alcohol interfered. She may be slightly hung over, but that couldn’t damper the ache he caused her in all the right places.
Both had been hot and bothered to no relief, making their good morning romp in the sack just that much more satisfying.
***
After a steamy tryst in the shower, they began their day and prepared for their long awaited trip to Portland. Colton cleaned up breakfast, surprised at Meg’s packing progress when he returned to the bedroom. He leaned against the wall and watched her work with a smile on his face. She had piles of clothes for her and Jax, organized by day, it appeared. If he didn’t know any better, it looked like she was working on his pile as well.
He could really get used to this life, hell, who was he kidding, he already was. Maybe they wouldn’t be able to fix her house, and she could stay with him forever.
“What are you looking at?” She shyly asked, knowing it was her.
“My beautiful girl… I could watch her for hours,” he replied, in all honesty.
“Folding clothes turns you on?” She joked. “I’ll remember that.”
“No, just the girl folding. I’d pair up every last stray sock for the rest of my life, if that’s what she wanted,” he declared.
She knew full well that he wasn’t volunteering for laundry duty and that he would do whatever it took to make her happy. That was Colton Sparks, genuine to a fault, and a heart with more love to give than any one person deserved. Truth be told, she would do whatever it took to make him happy and keep him forever. Even face her past.
***
Colton left Meg to finish packing and prepare snacks for Jax. She had brought what they needed from her house for the day to day, over the last several weeks. She hadn’t brought a suitcase that was large enough for three, however, in the many trips and heaping loads of “stuff”. Being alone his whole adult life, he only had a small carry on size, enough room for clean underwear…typical guy.
On his way to pick up the little guy from Sam and Dawson’s, he offered to grab her large suitcase from the office closet at her house. When he climbed the steps he noticed something wedged between the screen door and front door. He stopped, and looked around briefly, before continuing to the door. He grabbed it, before it fell to the ground when he opened the screen door. It was a newspaper, the Community and Lifestyle section, folded in fourths.
He looked around once more, still nothing, nobody was around. Not a thing out of place otherwise, even though someone had clearly been there. An eerie sensation crept up his neck, leaving him with hair raising goose bumps down his arms. There were eyes on him, he could feel it, but where?
They were surrounded by forest. The next house was a good distance beyond Meg’s. He moved inside, out of sight and gave this random section of paper a closer look. It was the New York Times. Where would that have come from clear out here? Furthermore, the date was from nearly eighteen months prior, almost to the day.
Someone had left Megan an old paper from New York. Everyone in town knew she was staying with him, and where her shop was, so why leave it here, like this, anonymously? He scanned the few pages, more than once. Nothing stood out, but here was clearly a message here, or why leave it? He could ask Megan, but she was finally starting to settle and wasn’t as jumpy as she had been, until last night.
She thought she saw a man watching her but nobody else saw him. They thought she was just flashing back to the night a man was hit in front of her shop. A man that had died and had yet to be claimed, identified or match a missing person report, country wide. That chill reared its ugly head again. There were clues all around him as he stood in her house, he just needed to find them, and hope she still trusted him later.
She wasn’t telling him what he needed to know, and he had a sickening feeling whatever haunted her from her past was now hunting her from afar, lurking right outside. He needed to find it, and fast. After searching everywhere he could imagine, he had nothing. Back in her office paper still in hand, he sat back at her desk without a single fucking clue.
He stared at the paper again, scanning the pics a little closer. On the front page, he took a pause, and looked closer at a pic of two women. One was looking awkwardly to her right talking close to someone; the other was looking directly at the photographer with a well-practiced smile.
They appeared to be at some sort of event, something elaborate, given the attire. The headline read, “Local Socialites, Killed in Fatal Car Accident”. The opening statement read, “Prescott sister, and a minor child, killed in a tragic accident last Tuesday evening when an unidentified driver lost control and ran the vehicle off the road.”
He hesitated, looking at the picture again. The woman looking back at him was somewhat familiar—who was Lydia Prescott and her sister, Trinity. What did this have to do with Megan? He looked up, staring at the large cork board that rested on the wall above her desk, lost in thought. He was trying to piece it all together, but at a loss, he was clearly missing a piece. Was it this article that she was supposed to see? The rest of the articles were related to local park dedications, golf tournament fundraiser, and the like. Or, had he missed the mark completely?
He stood to leave, determined to figure this out when they returned from their trip, when a piece of paper on the cork board caught his attention. There was a post-it note with Jax’s pediatrician number covering the note below. Peeking from the side of the post-it, he read “O’Reilly”. He removed the post it to reveal Declan O’Reilly followed by a phone number.
Declan O’Reilly? As in, Carigan’s brother, Declan O’Reilly? How would Meg know Declan and why would she have his number? She didn’t know Carigan until moving here and Dec hadn’t been home in years.
Nobody knew what he did, really, including Carigan. Blake knew him well; he knew all five of the O’Reilly brothers, Dec particularly well, which suggested that Dec was from a similar background. Top secret, probably military…the kind you don’t talk about and doesn’t show up on any government paperwork, and completely badass scary.
Colton grabbed the paper from the board. He had another stop to make.
Chapter 19
After picking up Jax from Dawson and Sam, Colton found himself headed to Blake’s cabin, full of concern and questions. The cabin was secluded, away from the masses, kind of like him. Blake liked his privacy. What was once a hunting cabin was now his quaint and isolated home that rested just outside of town in a wooded area along Bear Creek.
It was simple, but charming, sparse furnishings, very tidy, not a TV that could be seen, but plenty of book filled shelves. Colton was always surprised by how simple Blake lived, it actually suited him.
As Colton pulled up out front, Blake was already standing out front to greet them. Knowing Blake, he probably had the property rigged with booby traps and alarms letting him know a mile back, that someone was headed up his long drive from the road.
“Hey man, what brings you guys out here?” He asked Colton, giving him the standard “Bro” secret handshake. “Give me knucks, little man,” he said to Jax, putting his fist out to bump with the toddler, who was happy to comply.
Blake may be on the quiet side and a bit introverted from his own demons that he kept locked away, but the kids always brought out a side that the group of friends rarely saw, from their ultra-macho, gun toting, badass friend. As oversized and intimidating as Blake looked, the kids only saw a big teddy bear they adored.
“Not much, hell…” Colton stopped to correct himself. “Man, I need a favor, a big one.” He finished, hesitation surrounding his words.
“Need a beer for this?” Blake offered. “More importantly, will I need a beer?”
“Go for it, but I’ll pass. We’re headed to Portland with Dawson and Sam to pick up the new equipment, long drive,” he replied. “Look, it’s about Megan…”
“Man, please don’t bring me your girl problems. That’s Dawson’s department,” Blake said, cutting him off while grabbing that beer after all.
“Coop, it isn’t like that. This is unofficial, official business. I need you to look into something,” Colton said, defeat sliding off each word.
Blake knew it was only a matter of time before this conversation would take place. Something was going on with Megan, he felt it in his gut and was already a step ahead of Colton.
“Okay, tell me what’s going on I’ll do what I can, you know that,” he said, tossing back his beer.
“I think there is someone after her. I don’t think the fire was an accident either,” Colton admitted.
Blake sat on the leather chair, nodding for Colton to take a seat on the adjacent matching couch. “Okay, that’s a pretty serious statement, what do you got?” Blake asked, leading Colton to believe he was completely in the dark and unsuspecting.
“You know there have been odd little things, right? She gets pretty anxious and worked up over nothing, or so it seems. Well, she’s trying to hide something.” Colton said, full of guilt.
He felt as if he was accusing her of doing something wrong even though he didn’t know if she was or wasn’t. Truth was, he knew very little about the woman he adored, the woman he loved.
“Okay, so, people can be a little…paranoid in nature. That doesn’t mean anything is going on beyond that,” Blake countered, challenging Colton to give him something he could work with. He had his own ideas about what was going on, but wasn’t one to put words in other’s mouths or plant negative ideas.
“True. Look, my gut says something is wrong, really wrong,” he offered. “A while back, I caught her in the back room at her shop, scared shitless. She thought someone had been there, but I couldn’t find anything but a few buckets knocked over that could have been from her. Then there was the John Doe hit in front of her shop.”
Blake interrupted at the mention of the unidentified man, deceased, still unclaimed at the county morgue. “You noticed that? He was looking right at her, that smirk, as he was dying—it was odd, out of place. Her reaction…”