Island Promises. Leanne Banks

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Island Promises - Leanne Banks


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enthusiasm than she really felt, since she wasn’t all that crazy about flying herself.

      “I forgot how it made my tummy tickle when we went to Disney World,” Grace said.

      “I like it!” Sarah exclaimed. “Can we do it again?”

      “You’ve got four more takeoffs before we’re done—one more today and two on our way home.”

      The flight attendant came on a few moments later and announced that it was now safe to use electronic devices. Sarah immediately asked for Megan’s tablet.

      “Hey, Grace, want to play a game?”

      Grace was always willing to play, and soon the twins were engrossed in the game, blonde heads close together in concentration. Megan pulled out a magazine from her tote, still strongly aware of Shane beside her in the cramped space.

      She was going to have to talk to him, to explain and apologize for her actions. Why not do it now, while her daughters were distracted? She opened her mouth but he beat her to it.

      “So, for the last hour I’ve been trying to figure everything out. Was it because of your daughters?”

      She could feel heat rush to her cheeks. “My...daughters?”

      He made a face. “I called that fake number you gave me three times, hoping each time I’d made some kind of mistake dialing. The elderly-sounding gentlemen on the other end of the line was not amused, by the way.”

      Oh, she had been such an idiot. If she could go back and relive any moment in her life, it would be that night in the ER. She hated working a shift on the night of a full moon. Everybody acted out of character, including her.

      “I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I was so stupid.”

      From the moment he walked in with a gunshot wound—not on a stretcher but on his own two feet—she had known the handsome police officer in the bloodstained uniform was trouble. He’d been charming and sweet and obviously interested in her. Something about the late shift and the crazy night and the way he looked at her had her acting completely unlike herself. She’d been fun and flirty, laughing and teasing him.

      And then he’d asked for her phone number and reality had crashed back down. She couldn’t go out with him. She didn’t even know the man, and he certainly didn’t know the real her, the stressed-out, overscheduled mother of twins.

      Then she’d been called into a trauma, and in a panic she’d scrawled a fake number.

      “So?” he asked now. “Did you brush me off because of your daughters?”

      “If it’s any consolation, at the moment I did it I felt terrible,” she admitted. “As soon as the trauma crisis was over, I went back to give you my real number, but by then you’d been discharged.”

      Under other circumstances, she might have been tempted to look up his information but that would have violated privacy laws and she could have been fired.

      “You could’ve just told me you weren’t interested,” he said. “I’m a big boy. I can handle a little rejection—but for the record, I prefer outright rejection to that kind of sneaky thing.”

      She winced. “I know. You’d think I was in high school or something. All I can say is, I messed up. I’m really sorry.”

      CHAPTER TWO

      SEEING THE EMBARRASSMENT in her gaze, Shane wasn’t sure what to think about Megan McNeil.

      She was either crazy or had considerable grit to show up for her ex-husband’s wedding to another woman. He wasn’t sure which yet.

      Even a month later, her rejection stung.

      He had really liked Megan. Okay, he might have been a little woozy from pain medication—even a through-and-through round from a .38 hurt like hell—but he could have sworn they’d forged a connection.

      His mind replayed their interaction. While she’d helped him out of his uniform she had been sweet and solicitous, a beacon of warmth on a bitter winter night that had turned to hell.

      When she asked if he wanted her to call someone for him, he had floundered. His parents weren’t in Chicago, Mom was on one coast, Dad on the other. Having them at the hospital would have been a nightmare of drama and accusations. He could have called Cara, of course, but this was only a minor injury and he didn’t want to bother her.

      When he told Megan he didn’t need her to call anyone, she had become even more solicitous and kind. He’d noticed she wasn’t wearing a ring and at some painkiller-induced moment had asked if she was dating anyone. She’d blushed in a way that had completely charmed him, and said that she was divorced but she didn’t have time to date.

      He’d never thought to ask if a couple of cute twin girls were the reason she was so busy.

      “Was it something to do with hospital policy?” he asked now. “Are nurses not supposed to date patients?”

      “I wouldn’t strictly be breaking any rules. But that wasn’t it. Not really.”

      She glanced briefly at her daughters—the smaller one with the twisted limbs and her active, inquisitive sister—and then back at him. “As you’ve probably figured out, my life is...complicated. I haven’t dated anybody seriously since the divorce. I’m out of practice and, I’ll admit, I panicked.”

      He shifted his long legs in the uncomfortable space, surprised at her candor. “I can be a scary guy, I guess. That’s not necessarily a bad thing when you need to get information out of a perp, but it has its disadvantages when it comes to the dating scene.”

      A hint of a smile peeked out at him. “You didn’t scare me. I liked you. A little too much,” she confessed.

      “I felt the same way,” he answered. “Which is why I hounded some old guy in Irving Park three times, hoping I’d only misdialed.”

      She sighed, and he saw more of that entrancing blush seep over her soft features. “Please, can’t we start over? I’m so embarrassed about the whole thing. It would be great if we could pretend we only met at the gate before boarding the plane. I really don’t want to have to spend the whole wedding trying to avoid you.”

      After a moment’s thought, he stuck out his hand. “Hi there. I’m Shane Russell, brother of the bride.”

      She gave him a relieved smile and held out a small, capable hand. “I’m Megan McNeil. I, er, used to be married to the groom.”

      They shook hands briefly, before her attention was diverted by a question from her daughter.

      Shane picked up his book again, aware of a strange mix of relief and disappointment. While his ego was a little appeased to know he hadn’t been completely wrong about the attraction that had simmered between them, it was more than a little disappointing to discover that attraction was doomed to die a fruitless death.

      As much as he was drawn to her lush mouth, those blue eyes, those lovely, sweet features, he wouldn’t do anything about it. A month ago, he might have, but she was right. Her situation had just become too complicated.

      * * *

      THE FLIGHT BETWEEN Chicago and Los Angeles was far easier than Megan expected. The girls were both relaxed and comfortable. She read to them for a while, they watched a movie, they played a game or two, and before she knew it, the flight crew announced they were preparing to land.

      “What can I do to help?” Shane asked as they taxied to the gate.

      While Nick was a great father, she handled most things on her own these days. The chance to lean on someone else was as novel as it was welcome. “If you could help me with the bags, that would be great. It might take a while, though. I’m afraid we’ll have to wait for the wheelchair to be brought up from the cargo hold.”

      “I don’t mind.”


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