Just Say Yes. Mira Lyn Kelly
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way she’d missed him all those years ago.
He had to live around here. Though, the way he loved to travel, maybe he was just passing through. Either way, she was already reaching for him when he said, “Say, Sprout, whadiya think about chocolate with peanut butter and marshmallows?”
She stopped, too confused to make sense of the words she was hearing.
Only, then he glanced over at her and let out a bark of surprised laughter as he took a quick step back.
“Oh, heck, pardon me, young lady. For a minute I thought you were my daughter.” His eyes crinkled around the edges. “Serves me right, not looking at who I’m talking to.”
Just then, a heavily pregnant woman rounded the corner rubbing her belly with one hand as she scanned her grocery list. “No marshmallows, Dad, but I’m down with the peanut butter.”
Pete gave her a nod and reached into the case to grab another carton. He dropped it into his cart and then looked back at Megan expectantly.
Because she was staring. And he had no idea who she was.
Of course he didn’t. Though he looked so much the same it hurt her heart to see him, she’d been a little girl the last time he saw her. “Pete, I’m Megan Scott. I mean I was Megan Scott. I got married. It’s Megan Reed now.”
Heat burned through her cheeks as she realized how much it pleased her to be able to tell him that she’d married. To think that she might be able to introduce him to Connor. They’d get along. She knew they would. It hadn’t really struck her until just that second, but there were actually a number of similarities between them.
Only, then her racing thoughts ground to a halt and all that excited energy died as the furrow between Pete’s eyes dug deep.
“Megan...Scott?” He glanced over his shoulder at his daughter, standing a few feet off wearing a pleasant smile on her face, and then snapped his fingers, looking back at Megan. “From the bank over on First?”
HE’D BEEN LOOKING for a fight, that much Connor could admit. Pulling around the corner to the house, he’d felt the gathering tension through his back and neck, the same kind of jacked pulse he got before walking into a major negotiation. The fact that his system was ramping for conflict in anticipation of seeing his wife only made it worse.
There hadn’t been any new “tests,” but the emotional distance, the guarded looks and speculation when she thought he wasn’t looking—and hell, sometimes even when she knew he was—had only increased. Something was coming.
Only, then he’d pulled through the security gate and seen the open garage, Megan’s car parked and her still in the driver’s seat. A quiet alarm began to sound in the back of his mind as he cut the engine and jumped out. All that jacked-up ready-to-go morphed into protective instinct.
This wasn’t right.
Rounding the car, he came up to her window and stopped short at the sight of tear-streaked cheeks and a bleak stare. And for the first time since they’d met, he saw something other than how strong Megan was. Beneath all that toughness was something fragile. Something she didn’t show to the world but here and now she couldn’t hide from him.
His gut knotted hard as the first question slammed through his head.
Had he done this to her? Pushed her too far? Asked too much? Broken her?
Heart pounding, he forced himself to knock on the glass instead of ripping the door off its hinges to get to her. Find out what happened, if he was to blame. Make sure Megan wasn’t hurt. Physically.
She jumped in her seat as he opened the door, her eyes darting around the interior of the car before landing on him. The arms that had been hanging limply in her lap jerked up, and then she was wiping at her cheeks, mumbling some kind of unintelligible apology as she emerged from her daze.
Resting a staying hand on her shoulder, Connor crouched beside her seat, searching for clues in a face his wife was rapidly trying to clear. Only, with each sweep of her thumbs, another tear slipped free.
“Megan, what’s going on, honey?”
She sucked in a shaky breath, swallowed and then bowed her head. “It’s so stupid. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be like this. I just...saw someone I used to know.”
Connor’s muscles bunched. It wasn’t him, then, making her cry—and the relief he felt over that was immense. But it was nothing compared to the outrage pouring through him that someone else had done this to his wife.
Someone she used to know.
“Barry?” The idiot who’d run off and married another woman when he’d been making plans with Megan. The one he’d believed wasn’t important enough to merit this kind of sorrow. Did the guy have some kind of hold over her heart Connor hadn’t realized?
Was he in California to get Megan back?
She shook her head, valiantly trying to force a smile to lips that couldn’t bear the weight of it. “No. His name is Pete. And for about a year, a very long time ago, he was my dad.”
Her dad.
Connor was at a loss. He knew Megan had been raised by her mother, a serial bride who didn’t have much of a track record when it came to keeping husbands. Megan never talked about any of the guys her mother had married, and he’d gotten the sense they hadn’t been of particular importance in her life. Only, now he was wondering just exactly how off base he’d been.
“What happened?”
“He didn’t remember me.” Megan winced and closed her eyes. When she opened them again, she was blinking fast. Giving her head one of those thought-jarring shakes. As though she was physically trying to throw off the emotion. She wanted to be strong. And hell, he admired her for it. But as the tears continued to fall, the heartbreak in her eyes was unmistakable. And damn it, he’d seen that kind of pain before. Knew the kind of soul-deep wound it stemmed from. Feared it.
The kind where a person’s whole heart was tied up in the hope of something they understood they couldn’t have. The kind another person couldn’t fix or fill or make up for...could only pray they were strong enough to withstand.
She was strong.
“Sweetheart, I’m sorry.”
“It was so long ago. I don’t know how I expected he would remember me, but I was practically ready to throw my arms around—” Her voice broke, and she glanced away.
Damn. Megan looked so lost and vulnerable, he couldn’t stand it. Needed to do something. Ground her in some way.
Taking her hand, he stroked a thumb over her knuckles. “Let’s go inside.”
She nodded and he stepped back, helping her from the car. Her eyes shifted toward the house, and he half expected her to simply draw herself up and walk away. Retreat to a place he couldn’t reach her.
Only, then she closed her eyes and turned into him, pressing her face against the center of his chest, so there was nothing to do but wrap his arms around her trembling shoulders and hold her close. Stare down in disbelief as Megan clung to him.
Pulling her in closer, he laid his cheek against the silky strands at the top of her head and stroked a hand over her back.
“It’s okay, sweetheart. I’ve got you,” he promised, rocked by the depth of meaning behind his words. He wanted to protect her in a way he’d never experienced before. And that she wanted his protection and comfort—could accept it—was profoundly satisfying.
“I told him my name and he couldn’t place it. I mentioned my mom and the connection clicked. But it was...so awkward.”
Connor ushered Megan inside and up to their room where they lay in bed together with her head