But it was damn hard.
He just wanted to hold her close. Could he? Would she be upset if she woke up to find him sleeping beside her?
Or was that pushing the line?
Deciding he'd better not push the issue, he went to his own bed and turned out the lights. But he wasn't able to sleep as the unsolved issues on the case kept his mind churning through the information. All the possibilities…There were just too many of them. He lay there for a full hour, trying to go to sleep, then gave up. Just as he turned his light on and reached for a book to read, he heard it.
Meg. Crying.
Shit. Talk about something guaranteed to break his heart.
He got out of bed slowly, pulled on a pair of boxers and walked to his door. Should he go to her? He didn't want to intrude if she needed privacy, but he hated to see anyone in pain, Meg, most of all. Calling himself all kinds of fool, he walked over to Meg's door and knocked lightly. No response.
He stood undecided, then rapped again, a little harder.
The door opened under his hand. He peered around the corner. She lay still, her breathing broken by sobs. She was crying in her sleep.
His heart melted. She'd been through so much and had remained strong for Janelle's sake. But who was being strong for her?
Knowing it was beyond him to walk away, he gave in. Walking over to the empty side of the bed, he crawled under the covers. Settling in, he reached over and tugged Meg into his arms. Instantly her sobs eased. She snuggled in deeper, took a long, broken breath and slept on.
Holding her close, he slipped off to sleep right after.
***
Meg woke up tangled in the covers and incredibly hot. She threw back the covers and lay half asleep as her body cooled down. It was summer, but normally she didn't wake up this way. Then she heard it. Breathing. She twisted around to look and found Chad lying asleep in her bed.
She glanced around the room, reorienting herself. Here she was in Chad's house, in his spare bedroom, and in his spare bed, her bed for the night.
And his too, apparently. Yet it felt so right. As she lay there, she realized how well he'd aged. In the past, she used to lie and watch him as he had slept. She had always woken up before him. It used to make him mad. She'd just laugh. But here they were again, together, as if all those seventeen years hadn't happened.
This is where she belonged. Why had she ever left? When had the doubts become bigger than the knowing that they were right together?
Mack was likely to blame for that. Then again, he'd only shown up the cracks in the relationship; and she'd been the one to turn it into a rift. It was as if she'd been waiting all this time to come back home.
And he'd been here, arms open, welcoming her back. Luckily, he wasn't married with a family of his own. None of her camping group had managed a 'normal' life like that either.
They had all wanted it, but none had achieved it.
"What are you thinking?" murmured a sleepy, sexy voice beside her.
"That this feels like a homecoming."
She twisted around again so she could look into his eyes. Eyes that were now open, and so very welcoming.
He smiled a slow, slumber-filled smile that sent her pulse tattooing against her chest.
"That's because it is. It's taken you a long time to find your way back to me."
She stared at him, realizing it was time to shine light on another long held and discarded truth. She whispered, "You were supposed to come after me."
He leaned on his elbow to look at her in dismayed shock.
"Shit." He dropped his head onto hers. "I didn't know. I thought you wanted to leave us all behind."
"I was confused. Scared. And I wanted you and needed you. But at the same time, I couldn't stay here. So I left," she whispered, knowing it was the time to bare the truth. They'd already lost so much time. "I ran as far and as fast as I could. But I was hoping...you'd come after me."
"And I would have – if I'd thought there was any chance I was welcome." He closed his eyes. "When I think of all those lost years…"
He hugged her close, rocking her gently as a warm silence filled the room.
"Thank you," she whispered.
He lifted his head, his gaze narrowed thoughtfully as he looked at her. "For what?"
"For waiting for me." She pushed herself up onto her elbow, then leaned over and kissed him.
Meg couldn't believe how swiftly the years slipped away. It seemed so natural, so right to be in bed with Chad. She deepened the kiss and sighed with pleasure as his hands stroked up her arms…gentle, accepting, loving.
She broke the kiss and dropped her forehead to rest against his.
"You're welcome," he whispered, the warmth of his breath floating soothingly against her cheek. "I'm just so glad it's finally our time." He reached up and captured her lips for a second loving kiss. She smiled against his lips. "You said you'd give me until the weekend."
He lowered his head and closed his eyes. "I did, didn't I? Foolish me."
"Of course, I didn't say how long I'd give you," she whispered, teasingly.
His eyes flew open. He stared at her hopefully. "No, you didn't. And I'm a fast learner. I don't need until the weekend to adjust."
"Are you sure?" She dropped small, gentle kisses on his nose, his cheekbones, his chin. "I wouldn't want to rush you or to take advantage of the situation."
He swallowed hard. "You wouldn't? No, of course you wouldn't."
She smiled and dropped kisses down his neck to his broad shoulders. His fingers strolled her shoulders, always staying in contact, but compliant to her wishes.
"Not if you aren't ready to take this step." She murmured, stroking her tongue across his collarbone. "I'd hate to push you."
"It might be hard, but I think I'll be fine." He gasped as her tongue dipped into the hollow at his neck. "It will be a challenge, but I'm up for it."
She stilled, and then she smoothed her hand slowly down his chest to his belly, loving the way his muscles rippled under her touch. She curled her fingers gently into the thick V of hair that disappeared below the boxers. Boxers. They were new. Then so was her sleep shirt. She slid down the bed to allow herself more access, moving the blankets down, trailing her lips across his chest to his nipple. "Are you sure?"
Her finger danced along the edge of the boxers, then slipping under the soft material and feeling Chad's breath catch in his throat, only to be released in a gust as she removed her fingers.
"I'm sure," he gasped.
"Hmmm. Maybe I should check it out further." She nipped at his nipple; his fingers clenched her arms. She did it again. Then, again.
Shivers rippled down his skin. "Witch," he muttered thickly.
She chuckled. She rose up on one elbow so she could see his face. "I could stop." She toyed with the waistband on his boxers, she stroked down the surface of the material, loving the way it jumped under her fingers. "I'd hate for you to feel pressured."
"Oh, I'm feeling the pressure all right."
She wrapped her fingers around the long length of him and squeezed gently.
He groaned – a loud, guttural sound of relief and pain. "God, you're killing me."
She smiled lovingly. "So not. But I am having fun."
"Good. Then I want to play too."
She found herself suddenly flipped over on to her back with Chad resting between her sprawled legs and holding himself just above her. He stared down at her, an odd look in his gaze.
She tilted her head slightly. "What?"
He smiled sheepishly. "Have you any idea how long I have waited for this?" The longing in his voice, his need, brought tears to her eyes.
"I'm so sorry."
He placed his fingers over her lips. "Shush. Don't be; I always knew you'd come back. I'm just so grateful that it has finally happened."
She sniffled, his words warming the lonely corners in her heart, making her aware of just how empty her life had been.
"Don't." He dropped
gentle kisses on her cheeks trailing down to her ears. Shivers slipped across her skin which chilled then heated under his ministrations. "None of it matters. I loved you back then and I've loved you every day since."
Now the tears ran in a gentle, slow stream. God, those words…the love in his voice…and she'd walked away from him and had suffered every day since. And here he was, forgiving her, wanting her, and so, so precious...loving her.
After all she'd done.
"Stop. Please stop crying, Maggie." And the use of his old nickname made her smile through the tears.
He lowered his head and took her lips in a deep, drugging kiss full of memories and renewal. It was so familiar and yet so different, that her senses swelled in response. She reached up and tugged him down, loving the weight of his body on hers, loving the emotional connection of his words, but needing as well the physical blending of their bodies.
His kiss deepened as he slid his tongue inside her mouth to tango with her own. She wrapped her legs around his hips, hating the material still between them. Then felt his hand slide up between them, smoothing into her waist and up over her ribs. She shifted restlessly waiting, wanting so much more.
But he didn't give it to her. His hand stayed just below, so teasingly close to her breast, but just out of touch. She smiled against his lips and dug her claws into his back.
He stiffened and cupped her breast. She moaned, arching at the exquisite feeling. It had been so long. His touch was so new and so needed.
"More?"
"So much more," she whispered. "I want it all."
He leaned back, a slightly worried look in his eyes.
"Stop trying to do the right thing," she whispered. "And love me."
That opened the firestorm and when he lowered his head this time, there was no hesitation. No doubt. No hesitation. He drove his tongue inside her mouth as he plunged his hips deeper into the hollow between her legs.
She arched higher, and rotated her hips slightly. He still had on his boxers and those needed to go. She hooked her thumbs into the waistband and tugged them downward. He shifted to the side, reached down and slipped them off. He kicked the tangled bedding to the floor.
When he turned back to her, she'd lifted the t-shirt over her head.
His eyes gleamed in the early morning light as he stared down at her. One hand rose to cup her breast and he leaned over and suckled the nipple deep into his mouth. She cried out, cradling his head as her body pulsed with heat. He shifted to the other breast, giving it more attention, lathing the tip and brushing the early morning growth of beard so gently across the pouting nub.
"Oh," she cried out again, the slight pain of his early morning stubble instantly soothed by the moist heat of his mouth. She reached down, wanting, needing to touch him.
"I don't think I can let you, this time," he murmured rolling over to pin her flat on her back as she slid slightly to the side. "I've wanted you for so long."
Shifting slightly, he slipped his hand between their slick bodies and drove his fingers into her moist curls. She lifted her hips, then shuddered helplessly as he found the pulsing nub.
"Please, let the first time be both of us together," she cried, as need and heat twisted inside. She was already so close. "I don't want to fly solo – come with me."
He rose higher, hooked her leg up over his hip and with him sitting at her entrance, he leaned over and whispered, "Together."
And he drove home.
She cried out as emotions and sensations surged through her. He withdrew slightly and then drove in again. She rose to meet every thrust as he shifted, taking him yet deeper.
Tension twisted higher and higher.
She cried, "Chad."
"I'm here. You're safe."
And her world exploded.
Dimly in the background, she heard him groan as he followed her into oblivion, and collapsed softly beside her.
***
Pete stared into the shadows of the bedroom, rage coiling inside.
She'd gone to him, to Chad. He'd seen her work with him at the site. Had noted that the caring attitude that went far beyond their being professional colleagues. And had watched them from outside the house when they'd found Janelle. The noise of their cheers was painful to his hopes and dreams. He'd stayed behind until Chad had left and followed him back to town and straight to the hospital. Pete hadn't had time to decide his next actions when the two had come out and gotten into Chad's truck. He'd followed them.
To here. To this.
He couldn't believe it of Meg.
He didn't want to believe it of her.
Hadn't ten almost eleven years with him pushed Chad into the category called history? To never be revisited? Apparently not.
Chad had coaxed her back into his bed – so easily – just like he had when they were teens.
Pete had watched, hating that Meg had never looked at him, had never even seen him. She'd been friendly but then she was friendly to everyone. He was nothing special.
It had always been Chad.
When Pete had finally managed to woo her into his bed, and into his life, after years of trying, he'd done everything he could to make the relationship work. She hadn't recognized him and that was good. He'd worked hard to keep it that way. He'd never complained about her trips away – and some of them had been for months on end. He'd never complained about her inability to commit to a more permanent relationship. He understood she was still affected by that camping trip. So he'd never brought it up. That he'd been the cause of it all had never bothered him. It had caused the rift between her and Chad and that had been a wonderful side benefit.
Now, as if all those years with him hadn't mattered, she'd fallen right back into Chad's arms as if she'd never left.
Bitch.
Whore.
And yet still he loved her.
This was Janelle's fault. She'd driven a wedge between them. She'd turned Meg away from him. He'd been just about to take care of that little problem when he realized he'd been found out. He wanted to blame Janelle, but figured he could place the blame at Chad's feet for that. Losing Janelle would have sent Meg back into Pete's arms.
But instead Chad had saved Janelle and Meg had fallen into his bed.
Or had it happened before?
When had she turned to Chad? She hadn't had time with that Janelle bitch living with them. Christ, that kid had taken all Meg's attention and all her love.
He hated that little slut in the making.
He'd have gotten his revenge on her too – if it hadn't been for that bastard Chad.
Now look at the two of them. Cozy as anything.
Like hell. Rage too long submerged, rose to the surface, clear, hot and cutting.
He walked to the truck he'd used earlier for working the site. There were still chainsaws in the back of it.
And gas.
He opened the lid to the gas cans.
CHAPTER 27
Meg woke to a sensation of rosy warmth, snuggled deep into Chad's arms. Janelle was safe. Meg was back with Chad, and it was even better than before – but then there was Pete, but as Chad had said, "The police are on to him."
She smiled, loving the strong, male scent.
Her nose wrinkled at something else.
Smoke?
Jesus. She bolted upright.
"Fire!"
Flames were licking up the window side of the bedroom. That was the crackling sound of a good flame just getting a stronghold on the wood. The air was filling with smoke.
"Chad, wake up." She gave him a hard shove, already reaching for her phone to call 9-1-1.
"What the fuck?" Chad bolted out of bed and into his boxers and disappeared making her realize she would be running out of the house nude in a moment. She threw the t-shirt back on and her jeans, grabbed up her purse and her shoes, slipping them on as she ran. Thick smoke filling the room so bad, she could hardly see.
"Let's go." He was dressed, his car keys in his hand. He grabbed her ha
nd and raced to the front of the house.
Then she started to cough.
He shoved her to her knees. "Crawl to the garage. The flames are all around us. Go, go, go."
Still coughing, her shirt pulled up over her mouth, she crawled on all fours behind him. By the time they had reached the garage, all she could hear was the roaring fire and the sounds of sirens – too far away to save them.
She hoped Chad had a plan.
The garage door was locked but he managed to reach up and get it unlocked, and tugged it open. Through the grey smoke, she watched him motion her through the door as a bit of fresh air came out from the garage. She coughed and gasped, struggling to make the short distance, but couldn't catch her breath. Then, she didn't have to.
She was picked up, and shoved in the front of the truck.
The whole garage was in flames around them,
He ran around to the other side, hopped in and fired up the truck. He didn't even wait to open the garage door, he put the truck in reverse and blasted through it and out onto the street. Wood shattered, sending chunks onto the windshield. Her window automatically opened and she gasped and coughed in fresh air.
Pulling the truck off to one side, he parked and turned off the engine. He coughed several times. "Are you okay?"
Tears ran from his reddened eyes but the look of fury on his face had her answering quickly. "I'm fine but smoke inhalation is not the best way to wake up."
He grinned, reached over and kissed her hard. "Good. Let's go. I want the paramedics to check you out."
She went to speak and ended up coughing again. He exited the truck and came around to her side and opened the door. And, at last, she heard the sirens round the corner. An ambulance stopped in the middle of the road. Chad led her, still coughing, to the driver.
"Look after her." And he disappeared to speak with the firemen.
Meg let herself be led to the back where she was given oxygen. And after a bad coughing spell, she could finally breathe.
"Was there anyone else in the house?" the paramedic asked.
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