“Well, Mr. Fletcher, I guess that’s it. I’ve said my peace.”
“That you have, but it didn’t get you anywhere.”
He was right about that. What had she gained by confronting him with the news? He was still the governor, puffed up and secure in his position. Darla made a wide arc around the chair until she stood in front of the beverage cabinet. She bent over and looked through his window. “You sure have a nice view from here. You can see all the way down the river.”
She was tempted to throw one of the crystal goblets at him when Clyde spun in his chair and glanced out the window. “Yessiree, a fine view.” Instead, she threw a threat that she hoped would hurt more.
“It’ll be a shame for you to lose it. Surely you wouldn’t run for reelection now, knowing what you know.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” he asked, whipping around to face her.
“Just don’t get too comfortable, that’s all. It’s not going to last.” The threat sounded real, but she had no clue how to follow up.
“Don’t even think of going to the press with this, you hear me?” Clyde spoke in a quiet, yet steely, tone as he rose from his chair.
The press—what a great idea. “I’m sure the local news station would have a field day with this story.”
“Watch yourself, missy. I can ruin you. It’d be a real shame if the bank had to foreclose on that housing development you and your brother have started.”
A shiver of fear took the breath from her. She had most of her savings wrapped up in that project. He may spend most of his time in Charleston, but he certainly kept up with Highland Springs’ news. She didn’t doubt he could make her life a living hell, but she could return the favor with a call to the local newspaper. He better be prepared for the fallout she could cause.
She paced a full circle in front of his desk, wringing her hands as she struggled with a plan, and then stopped, catching the confident smirk on his face. He didn’t think she would do anything more at this point. Maybe she wouldn’t, but then again, she might follow through. She had no idea what she would do next, but she knew this wasn’t the last he’d hear from her. Time to wipe that grin off his face. Make him sweat. Let him wonder about her next move.
“Hmm…who should I call? The Charleston Gazette or the New York Times?” Smiling sweetly, she left him stunned, mouth hanging open as she turned and walked toward the door, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “I’ll be in touch.” She left the door standing wide open as she clicked down the hall to the elevators.
What now?
EIGHTEEN
Since walking out of the governor’s office, Darla felt five feet taller and thirty pounds lighter. She’d never realized what a crushing weight had been holding her down. There wasn’t anything that could hold her back, nothing she couldn’t do. Aunt Clara predicted she was going to have everything she’d ever wanted. She already had the successful career—her real estate business was expected to exceed her sales goals for the year, and the housing development would be a huge success, regardless of Clyde’s threats. What she wanted more than anything was a family. Meeting Meghan had awakened her maternal side, and Jason had aroused feelings she thought she was incapable of experiencing. She was falling in love with him. He was the man she wanted to build a life with, but first she had to make things right between them. Nothing would stop her from fulfilling her dreams.
Sprightly chirping robins woke Darla the next morning as the sun came up. She’d set her alarm but didn’t grumble at the earlier wake-up call. Meghan was scheduled for a battery of tests today, and she planned to be there. The early start would give her time to check in with Jamie, touch base with her clients, and schedule some appointments for next week. Once those chores were complete, she’d hit the road. Hopefully, her surprise arrival at the hospital would please Jason and Meghan—especially once they learned she’d confronted Clyde Fletcher.
Hours later, Darla walked through the quiet hallway toward Meghan’s room, breathing in the distinctive, antiseptic hospital smell. When she entered the room, Meghan was sitting up with her father standing at her bedside. Her heart swelled at the sight of them, talking softly, his hand resting gently on Meghan’s shoulder. She took a tentative step into the room, praying they’d welcome her.
“Hi,” she said, unable to stop the wringing of her hands.
Meghan’s smile was a reassuring sight, but Jason remained expressionless. He didn’t scowl in anger or sneer in disgust, but he certainly didn’t appear happy to see her. Maybe once he heard her news, he’d look at her with longing in his eyes again.
“How are you feeling?” She stood beside Meghan’s bed, across from Jason, keeping her focus on her daughter. “You’ve got some color back in your cheeks.”
“I feel okay. They’re supposed to come get me in a few minutes for an MRI and some other stuff.”
“Hopefully, they’ll be able to figure out what’s really going on.”
“They better. I’m getting sick of hospitals.”
“I can imagine.”
Meghan was being guardedly polite, but Jason still hadn’t said a word. His silence amped up the nerves quivering through her body.
“Dad said you beat him to the hospital in Charleston. Why were you there?”
“When I found out you were headed to the capitol, I got there as fast as I could.”
“But why?”
Darla glanced at Jason, whose eyes were averted, his soft lips in a firm, thin line. There was no point in hiding the truth. “I wanted to stop you from meeting with the governor.”
“Someone had to tell him.”
“Meggy, maybe this should wait,” Jason said, casting a quick, indecipherable glance at Darla.
“You’re right, but it needed to be me, not you.” Darla picked up Meghan’s soft, slim hand, so much like her own, and held it tight. “After I left the hospital, I went to see him. I told him everything.”
“No way! What did he say?”
“Your dad is right; this can wait until you’re feeling better.”
“I’m fine. What was his reaction?”
“Anger. Disbelief. He denied it was possible.”
“And?”
“And what?”
“What will you do next?”
“I’m not sure yet, but—”
A quick tap on the door interrupted Darla’s next thought. She was about to tell her she’d considered going to the press, but hadn’t found the nerve.
“We’re ready to take you down, Meghan.” Two women in green hospital scrubs helped Meghan into a wheelchair, ready to whisk her away.
“You need to go to the press,” Meghan called over her shoulder. “That’s what you need to do.”
“Not a good idea, Meg,” Jason said.
“We’ll talk about this later,” Darla said as her daughter disappeared around the corner. She and Jason were now alone in the room. When he cleared his throat and stuffed his hands in his pockets, she figured he had no intention of talking to her. She headed toward the door when his words stopped her dead in her tracks.
“I’m sorry.”
Darla spun around, hope swelling in her chest.
“I never thanked you for getting to Charleston so quickly.”
She released the breath she was holding and wrapped her quivering arms around her middle. It wasn’t the words she’d been hoping for.
“You’re welcome. I’m just glad I got there when I did.”
Disappointed, she headed out the door and made her way to the waiting room at the end of the hallway. She plopped down into a chair, staring at the gray-and-white, arabesque pattern of the carpet as she considered whether or not to stay. The open-armed welcome she’d hoped for didn’t happen. At best, she received a lukewarm, polite reception. Even though she was Meghan’s biological mother, she had no legal right to be here. Her daughter hadn’t made an emotional attachment and probably never would. Jason had washed his hands of her. Why in the world was she still sitt
ing here?
“The tests will take over an hour.” Darla’s head popped up, surprised to see Jason standing in the doorway. “Want to get some coffee?”
Darla nodded and followed him down the long, winding corridor to the hospital cafeteria, trying to keep her optimism at bay. Beeping machines and hushed voices ramped up the jitters. There were dark circles under his eyes and his face was pale. Her arms itched to pull him into a hug, to reassure him everything would be okay.
Instead, they walked side by side, neither one speaking. Once settled at a table with two carry-out cups between them, Jason broke the silence.
“I…um…want to apologize for the way I spoke to you. It was unfair.” He kept his gaze locked on the speckled, laminate table. “You have your own reasons for how you’ve handled things over the years. It’s not my place to judge.”
“I appreciate that. It’s been hard. I thought by avoiding him, it would all go away.”
“Did it help? Confronting him like that?”
“I think so. I just hope it’s enough. I thought about going to the press.”
He grabbed her hand, bumping her cup aside. “Please don’t. Not now anyway. It wouldn’t be good for Meghan, and I’m up for tenure and…”
“I’m not ready for that. No worries.” She laid her hand over his, enjoying the contact and grateful he didn’t pull away.
“Darla—”
“Jason—”
They spoke at once, interrupting each other. Not sure what he was about to say, she had to get out her next thought before he finally had a chance to cast her aside.
“Jason, I have to say something.” He nodded, giving her the floor. “I’ve been a coward. You know that. Meghan hurt me the day we had lunch, but she also pushed me to face Clyde Fletcher. It was something I needed to do. No matter what happens from here on out, whether she—or you—want me in your life, I’m glad she made me face my fears.”
“She’ll be happy to know that.”
“The thing is…” Ignoring the possibility of his rejection, she charged forward and grabbed his hand in hers. “I know we haven’t known each other long, but I love my daughter and want so desperately to be a part of her life—and yours. You’ve made me feel things I’d never felt before. I know I have a long way to go, but I promise I’ll make things right.”
“Darla—”
She might be getting stronger, but right now, fighting back tears, she had to leave before she made a fool of herself. He didn’t reciprocate her feelings, and she couldn’t handle his rejection. She’d already risked enough.
“I’m staying at the Holiday Inn. Call me when you get the results of her tests.” Abandoning the untouched coffee, she rushed from the cafeteria and broke down in tears inside her car.
***
Jason was empty. Depleted. Not a drop of energy was left in his bones. This day had been one hell of a roller coaster ride. He dropped a five-dollar bill on the counter and grabbed the coffee cup—at least the sixth one today—not bothering to collect the change from the cashier. This morning, Meghan had gone through an extensive battery of tests, risky and invasive. He’d worried himself sick, fearing she wouldn’t live through them, but was confident they’d yield good news.
To add fuel to the fire, Darla had arrived unexpectedly. His emotions warred between telling her to leave them alone—they didn’t need the added stress of the situation with the governor—and pulling her into his arms. She wasn’t to blame for his daughter’s condition, but like an ass, he’d made her feel she was. He was falling in love with her, which scared the hell out of him. But instead of telling her that, he pushed her away with his snide comments.
Finally, the last bitter straw had been the doctor’s conclusion: Meghan needed a heart transplant. Her heart muscle had thickened, causing her blood pressure to skyrocket. She was in such an advanced state, the only chance for survival was a new heart—and fast. How the hell had the other doctor missed it?
For the moment, Meghan was okay, but she was living on borrowed time. He’d left her sleeping peacefully in her hospital room a few minutes ago, too wired to sleep himself. Drinking coffee this late certainly wouldn’t help. News of this critical, life-changing event made rest impossible. He got in his car and drove around the hospital block several times before coming to a decision. He had to see Darla.
“Hey, it’s me,” he said after pulling into the hotel parking lot. “Can we talk?”
“Sure, I’m still up. I’m in room 302.”
With each step down the carpeted hallway to her room, his strength was buoyed. For eighteen years, alone he’d borne the burden of Meghan’s cuts and scrapes, triumphs and disappointments but had been happy it was just the two of them. Now he was ready to let someone else in. That person was Darla.
“Hi, come on in.” She held open the door, looking soft and welcoming in a pair of black yoga pants and a peach T-shirt, a safe place to land.
“Thanks for—” Before he could finish his thought, he pulled her into his arms and nuzzled his face into the crook of her neck. He breathed deeply, drawing in her floral cologne and all-woman scent. His eyes burned, fighting back tears of relief and fear. He drew her in tighter, and slowly the anxiety loosened as she ran her long nails up and down the length of his back. God, he needed this woman.
“What happened?” she murmured against his chest. “Is Meghan okay?”
Reluctantly, he let go and crossed the room, dropping into a chair. With his elbows propped on his knees, he massaged the tension in his temples and gathered some strength to give her the bad news.
“She has to have a heart transplant.” Falling back into the chair, Darla rushed to him and dropped to her knees in front of him.
“Why? What’s wrong, exactly?”
Seeming to know what he needed, she ran her hands up and down his thighs, giving him the comfort he so desperately craved. “She has something called hypertrophic cardiomyopathy. It’s when the myocardium—the heart muscle—becomes abnormally thick, making it harder for her heart to pump blood. That’s why she’s had the shortness of breath and fainting.”
“How did this happen?”
“It could be hereditary. Maybe she’s had it all her life. They don’t know.”
“When will they do the transplant?”
“The doctor has put her on the list as a top priority, but there are others before her. There’s no way of knowing when or if she’ll get a heart.”
“Oh God, Jason.”
She took his face in her hands, and worry and fear glistened in her eyes, reflecting the same worry and fear he’d been living with for months. She’d only just come into Meghan’s life, but her reaction was that of a mother who’d been with her all along. Maybe in some ways she had.
“I don’t know if I can handle this alone.”
“I’ll be there, every step of the way, if you’ll let me.” She brushed her thumbs below his eyes, catching the tears.
“I want you to.” He lifted her onto his lap and wrapped his arms around her, resting his cheek against her soft, dark hair. “I’m so sorry for the way I treated you on the phone at the hospital. I took everything out on you and—”
“Stop. It’s all forgotten.”
“You don’t understand, I…”
She pressed her finger to his lips and leaned back. Her gentle smile was a fresh breeze. “You’ve got enough on your plate right now. You don’t have to worry about words spoken in the heat of the moment. Let me be here for you.” She kissed his brow, his cheek, his lips. “Tell me what you need.”
“I need you.” He cupped the back of her head and kissed her with a ferocity he couldn’t control. She opened her lips to him and allowed him to ravish her mouth as his hands groped her bottom, drawing her closer. He surged to his feet, keeping her in his arms, and carried her to the bed where they landed with a bounce.
Her neck, her collarbone, her breast—he trailed his lips across her curvy plain, devouring every tender, sweet-smelling inch of her
. All the while, she rubbed the tension from his back like the best kind of massage. She met his fervor, kiss by kiss, and willingly opened herself to him. It wasn’t the slow, seductive dance he’d envisioned, but a primal heat that needed to be squelched.
Darla lifted up and shimmied out of her yoga pants, taking off her T-shirt and bra as he stripped. She snaked her hand around his neck and pulled him down for a deep, wet kiss. He sank inside her with a satisfying sigh. Like coming home.
NINETEEN
Darla rolled onto her side, grabbing the alarm clock and bringing it close enough for her myopic eyes to see. The bright-red numbers glowed two o’clock in the morning. She hadn’t slept a wink. Accustomed to sleeping alone, she couldn’t relax with a man sleeping soundly in her bed.
After she and Jason had made love, he curled around her and fell into a deep sleep. She’d basked in the warmth of his strong, comforting arms, smiling until her cheeks hurt. All these years she’d missed out on the pleasure of being with a man. Maybe fear had held her back, maybe self-consciousness; more likely, it was because she’d been waiting for the right one to come along. He was here, sleeping beside her, and she couldn’t be happier. In the brief minutes on his lap, she’d dropped her shield and let him in. He needed her and she’d answered that need.
It wasn’t at all how she would’ve imagined it to be. It was better. But did he feel the same way? Surely he’d been with other women over the years. Had she measured up to his more experienced lovers? Her desire had taken control—rather graceless and feral. Obviously, she hadn’t scared him off because he was still here.
She rolled back over, tucking her hands beneath her pillow to watch him sleep. He lie on his back, the bed sheets draped across his flat stomach, with one arm resting lazily beside his head and the other at his side. Light from the parking lot peeked through the parted curtains, so she could see his soft lips and his dark lashes feathered along his eyelids. His thick, silvery hair was mussed, giving him a boyish appearance. Rising up on her elbow to get a better look, she pulled the sheets around her bare breasts and leaned closer. Suddenly, the linens snapped out of her hands and Jason’s eyes popped open.
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