“You were young. And I spent time with your family to get away, to forget what waited for me at home. I didn’t want to bring it with me.”
Without another word, she began kissing each one of his visible scars, wishing she could kiss the invisible ones, too. She refused to regret what they’d done. Even if Riley left tomorrow, she wasn’t going to regret grabbing this little bit of heaven.
* * *
Riley awoke and tried to move. Had he been run over by a tank? What else would explain the aches and stiffness? He couldn’t be in a hospital because he was naked and something warm snuggled up against him. Meggie. And she was naked, too.
She shifted and opened her eyes. “Hey.”
He wanted to pull a victory fist pump but figured she wouldn’t appreciate the purely male gesture.
“Hey, yourself.”
She stretched and yawned. “How are you feeling this morning?”
“Other than not being able to move without almost every inch of my body screaming in protest, I feel great.”
“Oh. Well, I’d better get up. I—”
He reached for her. “Not so fast. I said almost every inch... There are still inches that are working fine. And if I could move I’d prove it to you.”
“And those are mighty impressive inches.” She began kissing her way down his chest. “Maybe I can help.”
Oh, yeah, he could definitely get used to waking up next to Meggie. He hadn’t thought he wanted marriage or family, but this time spent with her had him reevaluating his long-term plans. He liked being a part of her life. Even falling off the damn roof had a silver lining.
His thoughts dissolved into a haze of pleasure as Meggie’s lips, mouth and tongue continued to work their way toward their final destination. Yes, please let that be her intention.
Having Meggie snuggled next to him every night and every morning would be a pleasure he could get used to. Imagine the fun they could have once his injuries healed.
She lifted her head and he groaned. What a tease; she was killing him. “Meggie, I—”
“Ssshh. Did you hear that?”
“What?” He lifted his head off the pillow. He’d been lost in a haze of pleasure, his battle-honed instincts shut off. Levering himself onto his elbow, he listened, and there was the distinctive sound of a diesel engine in the driveway. Who in the world?
“That.” Meg slid off the bed and went to the window. She cracked the blinds and looked out while he admired her bare backside. “Oh. My. God.”
Swearing and clutching his ribs, Riley scrambled to a sitting position and swung his legs over the side of the bed. “What is it?”
She looked over her shoulder, her face pale. “It’s my dad and Fiona. They weren’t due back until the weekend.”
Still naked, she trotted over to the door, muttering under her breath. “Not good. So not good.”
“Hey, wait.”
“What? I haven’t got time for—”
“You’re not going to greet them naked, are you?”
She swore. “I need to get dressed. So do you. Quick.”
He held up his brace. “Nothing’s gonna happen fast, sweetheart.”
“Damn.” She turned back and scooped up his jeans from the floor. “Let’s get these on you.”
He shoved his feet into the legs of the worn denim and winced, thinking about trying to stuff himself into the pants. Talk about timing. Ten more minutes and he’d have been a happy, limp camper.
Easing off the bed, he stood while Meg tugged his pants up. By the time she reached critical mass, her face was as red as the fire truck Mac used to drive. He welcomed seeing Mac again, but he wished the conditions were anything but this.
“Riley?” She chewed on her bottom lip.
“Yeah.” He sighed and used his good hand to try to stuff himself into the jeans, but even his good hand was weak due to the pain in his shoulder.
“Here, let me,” she said as she took him in hand and attempted to guide him into the pants.
His hips bucked as if they were no longer under his command and he bit back a groan. “You’re killing me.”
She dropped her hand and jumped back. “Did I hurt you?”
“Let’s just say it’s a good kind of pain.”
“Well, I—”
A door slammed.
“Christ, you standing naked in front of me isn’t helping.” He made a shooing motion with his hand. “Get dressed. I’ll take care of this.”
* * *
In her own room, Meg grabbed yesterday’s sweatshirt and jeans from the chair by her bed and tried to get them on, but her hands were shaking so hard they hindered her. What if they’d come back early because something was wrong with Fiona? Oh, God. And here she was behaving like a stupid, hormone-crazed teen again. Jumping into bed with Riley after being together with him for like ten minutes was a stupid, stupid thing to do. She should have been listening to her head.
She stopped at Riley’s door and glanced in. He was struggling with his T-shirt. She ran in and helped pull it over his head.
“Thanks,” he said when his head popped out of the neck hole.
She nodded and left. “I’ll be outside.”
She unlocked and opened the front door. Her dad stood on the porch looking up at the damage. His dark hair was liberally sprinkled with gray, but to Meg he looked younger than he had in the past several years. Guilt jabbed her in the gut for not being as happy as she should have been in the beginning about him finding a new love.
Mac noticed her and pointed to the gaping, jagged hole and the remains of the broken wooden chair. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” He pulled her into a tight embrace and she kissed his cheek before stepping away. “Welcome back.”
“What the hell happened?”
“It’s a long story.”
“You’re sure you’re okay?” He sounded doubtful and looked her up and down as if expecting to see bruises.
She forced a laugh and spread her arms to show him she was unharmed. “I’m not hurt.”
He rubbed a hand over his mouth. “I knew this place was going to be too much for you. Wicked expensive to heat. Not to mention the—”
“Where are Fiona and Doris?”
He flicked his thumb toward the motor home. “They’re getting dressed. They were still asleep when we pulled in. I drove all night.”
“Why? Is everything okay?” Her heart began to beat faster and she latched onto his arm.
“Yeah, we’re good. We left ahead of schedule to try to get a jump on the road closures due to smoke from those wildfires in Utah.”
Letting her breath out, she squeezed his arm. “You mean you didn’t try to volunteer to help fight them?”
Mac grinned sheepishly. “Doris threatened me with bodily harm.”
“Ah, so she knows you.”
“You got that right. You gonna tell me what happened here?”
She would have to admit to her harebrained scheme to patch the leaky roof. She could imagine what he’d have to say about that. Not to mention getting to hear again all the reasons why moving here was a bad idea. “I’ll explain but first I want to see Fiona. Please. It feels like forever since I kissed my baby. She’s probably grown while you were gone.”
“Go see her. I don’t think this hole is going anywhere.”
Meg leaned over and kissed her dad’s cheek. “Love you, Pop.”
She was delaying the inevitable, but she hurried to the motor home. Maybe she’d come up with a reasonable explanation, one that didn’t make her look foolish for trying to fix her own roof. Yeah, like that was gonna happen. She opened the door to the camper, calling out hello as she did.
* * *
Riley stepped onto the porch in time to see Meg disappear into the huge Class A motor home, but he’d heard
enough of the exchange between her and her dad. Was Meg avoiding telling her dad the truth because she didn’t want Mac knowing he’d been helping? Or did she not want to admit she might be in over her head? Once his wrist and ribs healed, he could help her knock out some of the repairs on this place. Damn, what was he thinking?
Mac McBride was staring up at the hole, scratching his head. “How the hell...?”
“That’s my fault, sir.” Riley came through the door and sauntered onto the porch. The aglets from the laces of his untied boots made clicking noises on the wooden floor of the porch. “Entirely my fault.”
“Riley Cooper?” Mac took a step forward and stuck out his hand. “I didn’t know you were here. It’s been ages. How are you, son?”
Riley held up his hand with the removable cast. “I’ve been better, sir.”
“What happened?”
Mac seemed pleased to see him and Riley relaxed. “I was trying to help Meg. I noticed worn shingles and thought I could help out some before she got a roofer.”
“The hell you say?”
Riley shrugged and winced at the pain, but was determined not to cause any trouble between Meg and her dad. “Meg tried to warn me there might be weak spots over the porch, but...”
Mac shook his head, his face grim. “I was worried this place would be too much for her. Especially since I didn’t keep up the maintenance like I should have. That part’s on me.”
“Well, that—” Riley pointed his plastered hand toward the gaping hole “—is on me, sir. She’s done a helluva job with repairs and renovations.”
“That so?”
“I can tell how much she loves this place.” Riley knew that much and, truth be told, he was proud of her. His gut clenched and he suddenly wished he could be “that guy” for Meg, sitting in her cheerful kitchen watching her make supper, but his future was in a tent or a mine-resistant armored personnel carrier with his men.
He never should have touched, tasted, wanted—then or now. What a dumbass he’d been, thinking he could have Meg once more and not crave her and what she represented for the rest of his life.
The door to the motor home opened and a little girl—make that a miniature Meg—hopped down the steps, pigtails bouncing as if she were a puppet. Her eyes wide behind pink wire-rimmed glasses, she made a beeline toward the porch, her sneakers crunching and scattering the gravel in the driveway. The girl was definitely a mini-Meg, right down to the red corkscrew curls. Riley’s throat closed and he had to stiffen his knees to remain upright. He’d never seen himself as a father, but the idea held a certain appeal. Damn, where did that crazy thought come from?
Despite the pain in his ribs and thighs, he squatted so he was eye level with the kid. “Hello, there. I’m Riley. Who are you?”
Chapter Nine
“I’m Fee-oh-nah...like the princess.” She planted her hands on her hips and stuck one foot out. “Mrs. Grampa Mac bought me new sneakers at the giant mall ’cuz my old ones pinched me. She let me pick them out and when Grampa Mac told us to hurry she said, ‘Tim, you hush up,’ and told me I could take as long as I wanted.” She giggled, her bony shoulders going up and down. “Tim. That’s what she calls my Grampa Mac.”
Riley sucked in a quick breath, searching for something to say to the little dynamo. He’d never been one for kids, but something in his chest expanded and he was fascinated. He put it down to her looking so much like Meg. Yeah, you tell yourself that if it helps. “I see.”
She jiggled her foot, setting off a light show in the soles of the sneakers. “They’re pink. These ones have lights. See? Grampa Mac says I don’t need lights on my shoes ’cuz everyone hears me coming.”
“I can believe that.” Riley blew out his breath. Nothing shy about this kid. His gut clenched at the thought of staying here...being a part of both her and Meg’s lives.
Her brow wrinkled, and she pointed to his arm. “How did you get hurt, Mr. Riley?”
“See that hole? I fell through.” He tried to inhale but his chest hurt. If he had stayed with Meg instead of joining the marines, all this might have been his: the sunny kitchen, the little chatterbox and Meg.
Her gaze followed to where he was pointing. “Gee, Mr. Riley, maybe you’d better not do that no more.”
The tightness in his chest eased and he grinned. “Believe me, I won’t.”
Fiona glanced toward the camper and back. “Did Mommy yell at you for making a hole?”
Riley winked at her. “No, she was very nice about it and took me to the hospital.”
The girl nodded. “Yeah, she’s good like that.”
Meg came out of the camper, followed by an attractive woman with dark hair and sparkling eyes. Riley guessed the woman to be in her late fifties like Mac, and he could see why Mac was smitten.
When Fiona ran to her mother, Riley rose. His stupid heart flip-flopped like a landed fish when Meg picked up the little girl and nuzzled her neck, making Fiona giggle. Just as he had when he was growing up, Riley envied what the McBrides shared. Despite his close friendship with Liam and the family’s welcoming nature, Riley had always felt like an outsider, as if their family dynamics had been making a mockery of his reality. He’d found his place in the world, with his men, antitank fire instead of a child’s laughter, the smell of death instead of home-cooked meals and his rifle to keep him company at night instead of Meg.
The older woman approached him and smiled. “Hello. You must be Riley.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She lifted her eyebrows. “Ma’am?”
Mac laughed. “Cut him some slack, Doris. He’s a marine.”
“Well, in that case, he’s forgiven.” She winked at Riley and went to Mac’s side. Mac put his arm around her waist; she leaned into him and he kissed her temple.
Oh, yeah, Mac was a goner.
Riley’s gaze went to Meg, and he wished he had the right to touch Meg the way Mac did Doris, but despite the passion they’d shared last night, Meg wasn’t his. This morning had brought that fact home more than anything.
“If you hadn’t guessed it by now, this is my wife, Doris,” Mac said.
Doris glanced from the hole to his arm. “You take a shortcut?”
“Something like that.” Riley turned toward Meg. “I was telling your dad how I saw some bad spots in your roof and got careless.”
Meg opened her mouth and shut it again without speaking. She met his gaze, and her eyes softened; he answered the warming light with a slight nod.
Doris squeezed Mac’s arm. “Tim, can’t you do something to help?”
Mac smiled at his wife. “A couple of guys in my former firehouse do roofing on the side. I’ll talk to them.”
Riley nodded. “I feel responsible, so let me know how much, sir.”
Meg stepped forward. “Pop, that’s not nece—”
“I’m sure we can work something out. Those guys owe me a few favors,” Mac said and pulled out his cell phone.
“Have you had breakfast yet?” Meg set Fiona on the ground. “I was about to make some pancakes.”
“I’ll help,” said Doris. She reached her hand out to Fiona. “Why don’t we go help your mommy?”
* * *
In the kitchen Meg tried to control the trembling in her hands as she got out the ingredients for breakfast. She’d already planned on making breakfast for Riley, albeit much later. Her cheeks burned and her heart pounded at the thought of her dad and Doris almost catching them. Yeah, repeating past mistakes was not how she wanted to greet her dad. Liam had guessed from the start that Riley was Fiona’s father, but as far as Meg knew, her dad had no clue.
“Mommy?” Fiona tugged on Meg’s sleeve. “Can I go to my room and check on my aminals? I missed them while I was gone on a bacation.”
“Sure, sweetie. I assure you they’re all still there and I imagine they missed you,
too.”
Fiona danced around on her toes. “Then can I go help Grampa Mac and Mr. Riley look at the hole?”
“Okay, but don’t get in the way,” Meg instructed.
“I won’t,” she said as she skipped to her room.
When they were alone, Meg cleared her throat and asked, “How much do I owe you for Fiona’s sneakers? I didn’t plan for you to have to buy her new ones.”
Doris waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. “It was my pleasure. I had fun shopping with her.”
Meg cracked eggs into a vintage batter bowl with pink and blue stripes. “Even if my dad told you to hurry?”
Doris laughed. “I could see Fiona getting nervous and I didn’t want her to have to make a rushed choice to please the adults.”
“Thank you for that.” Meg beat the eggs. “And...and thank you for giving her an exciting vacation.”
Measuring the dry ingredients, the older woman said, “When Jake and Wayne were both killed by that drunk driver, I not only lost a husband and son, but any hope I had of having grandchildren. So it’s been a dream come true spending time with Fiona, even if she calls me Mrs. Grampa Mac.”
“I can speak to her and—”
Doris reached over and touched Meg’s arm. “It doesn’t matter what she calls me. I’m having too much fun spoiling a grandchild to care if I’m grandma or Mrs. Grandma. She’s such a sweet little girl.”
“Thanks.” Meg gave her a quick hug. “It’s been nice for Fiona to have a grandmother.”
Doris greased the electric griddle Meg had gotten out. “I hope you were able to accomplish a lot without your little helper.”
You have no idea. “Not as much as I’d hoped.”
“How long has Riley been here?” Doris asked in a neutral tone.
Meg sighed. “He’s renting the cottage next door.”
“I’m not judging, dear.” Doris plugged in the griddle. “You’re a grown woman.”
Meg mixed the batter with a bit too much gusto. “Who also happens to be a single mother in a very small town.”
“But everyone in Loon Lake loves and admires you.”
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