Forever Yours (6 page)

Chapter Eight

Admitting that her anger had subsided seemed to ease the tension Meg felt around John. New Year’s Eve had gone as smoothly as possible, and though the temptation to kiss him goodnight had lingered in the back of her mind, she managed to stomp it out as she bid him a Happy New Year and headed home alone.

As February rolled in, Meg and John sat staring at a stack of papers.

“This is crazy,” he said.

Meg chuckled. “Yeah. Quite the commitment you’re making here.” She grinned when he glared at her playfully and then snatched the pen she was holding out. “I’ve tagged all the places you need to sign and initial.”

She watched him flip through the pages, legally taking ownership of the home that had crept into her dreams more than once over the last few weeks. Why her subconscious would continually put her in that home with John and their happily ever after was beyond her. Just because she decided to give up the anger and bitterness that had hounded her for years, didn’t mean she should completely forget what he had done. But she found that she was forgiving him, and if she thought about it—which she tried not to do—she could even admit that it felt good to not hate him. Every day she thought of her anger less and less and found herself enjoying being around him more and more.

Damn it.

“Okay.” He turned to the last page and took a deep breath. He glanced up at her and smiled. “This is it.”

She watched him scribble his name, and then slid the keys across the table to him. “Congratulations. You are a homeowner.”

He laughed as he picked up the keys while she gathered the papers. “Shall we?”

Meg froze as she lifted her gaze to his. “What?”

“Go check it out.”

“Uh, this is usually the end of the line for the realtor. You’re on your own now, Doctor.”

“Come on.” He stood. “You know you want to come over.”

“No.” She chuckled. “I don’t.”

He looked down at her and she rolled her eyes as she felt herself cave.

“Fine.” She busied herself with stuffing the papers in an envelope to be dealt with later and grabbed her purse from her desk. She turned to leave with him then stopped at the sight of him holding a key out to her. “Wh-What’s that for?”

“For the front door.”

“I know that, but why do I need a key to your house?”

He shrugged. “Somebody has to feed the dog I haven’t yet bought when I go on a vacation I haven’t yet scheduled.”

She moved around him. “That’s why you have Steven.”

“I’ll get him one too, but this one is for you.”

Meg didn’t take the key, but it clinked as he set it on her desk. Her heart did a strange kind of flutter. The last time he’d given her a key to his place it was like signing a death warrant on their relationship. They didn’t even have a relationship now, but she still felt the same sense of doom wash over her as she had felt four years ago.

She sat quietly as he drove and rambled about all the big plans he had for the place. Once they arrived, Meg looked up at the house and her heart grew inexplicably heavy. She followed him in and gave him a weak smile when he held the door open so she could walk in. All the furnishings and photos had been removed, but it still felt like she belonged here as she looked around the living room.

“So what do you think?”

She turned to him. “What?”

He grinned. “I knew you weren’t listening. Did you hear anything I said on the way over here?”

“Sorry.” She dismissed her overwhelming emotions with a laugh. “I have a million things on my mind.”

John’s teasing smile fell. “Something wrong?”

“No. No. I just…” She looked away from him. “What were you saying?”

“I need someone to help me decorate, and I think that person should be you. You know me better than anyone.”

“Uh, I don’t think that’s a good idea. This is your home and—”

“And I have terrible taste. I don’t want my first real home to look like a frat house.”

Meg pulled her bottom lip between her teeth for a moment and then shook her head. “Ask Suz. She’s great at this kind of thing.”

John nodded. “Okay. But when she picks a color you don’t like, I don’t want to hear it.”

She forced a laugh. “I’ll bite my tongue.”

“So furniture shopping is out then?” He winked as he teased her.

“There are bottles in the fridge.” Suzanna looked pitifully at Meg holding Lily.

“I know.”

“I’ll keep my cell phone on all evening.”

“I know.”

“Call if you need anything. Anything at all.”

Meg lifted her brows at Steven. “Get her out of here so you guys can enjoy Valentine’s Day. Please.”

Steven grabbed his wife’s hand and pulled her to his side. “We’ll be back in a few hours. I think Meg and John can handle it.”

“Have fun,” Meg said as Steven practically dragged Suzanna out the front door.

Once alone, Meg turned to John and laughed. “I give her an hour. At most.”

“I give her half that. She’s probably going to order her dinner to go.”

Meg looked at the bundle in her arms. “Your mommy is crazy, Miss Lily. Yes, she is.”

John grinned at the sleeping infant. “Well, considering I didn’t expect Suz to leave her until she was at least two years old, I think the fact that she is on the other side of the door is pretty impressive.”

Walking Lily to the portable crib set up next to the sofa, Meg eased the swaddled baby down and patted her for a moment before sitting on the couch where John had plopped down.

“So how’s the house coming along?”

“Good. I’m planning on having a house warming thing soon. Well, Suzanna is planning it.”

Meg laughed softly. “Yeah, she tried to drag me in on that. I passed.”

John reached for the pizza that had arrived just minutes before they managed to shoo Steven and Suzanna out of the house. He dropped a slice on a plate and handed it to Meg.

She had assumed they’d watch a movie with their dinner, but he sat back and started filling her in on the house. He and Steven had spent the weekend painting, which she knew—she’d been home with Suzanna. The furniture was being delivered the following week. She knew that too. She smiled as he told her how excited he was to get completely moved in.

She couldn’t explain why, but every time she thought of him in that house, she felt a sense of loss tugging at the back of her mind. She had no right to feel that way. She had no
desire
to feel that way. But the feeling was there.

She was grateful when the subject changed and he started talking about his work and asking about hers. It was a much more comfortable conversation, and by the time Suzanna and Steven came creeping in the door, just an hour after they’d left, Meg was back to feeling relaxed.

Suzanna barely acknowledged them before rushing to the crib and scooping up the still sleeping baby.

“Well,” Meg said to Steven, “looks like all is right in the world now. I’m heading home. If she ever comes up for air, tell her I said goodnight.”

“Will do. Thanks.”

“Good night,” John said. He followed Meg to the coat closet by the front door. “It’s early yet. Wanna go grab something to eat?”

“We just had pizza.”

“Right. How ’bout a drink?”

She laughed softly. “Are you avoiding that scene?”

He looked back to Suzanna cooing over her daughter. “Maybe.” He smiled. “It’s just…”

“What?”

He shoved his hands in his pockets. “It’s Valentine’s Day and it’s not even nine o’clock yet.”

“And your point is?”

“Just because we’re single doesn’t mean we don’t deserve a night out on Valentine’s Day.”

“Don’t you have friends to go hang out with?”

He shrugged. “They’re all on dates.”

She grinned. “Okay. One drink, but that’s it. Meet you at Sam’s?”

“Sam’s it is.”

John was convinced that no one had ever looked better in a pair of faded jeans and a fitted T-shirt than Meg. He’d had a hard time keeping his attention off her body while babysitting, but now it was nearly impossible to not steal glances at her whenever possible. The bar had been one of their favorite places to hit up on Friday nights. Sitting with her now, he couldn’t help but remember how most of those nights ended—with them naked and moving together in a sensual dance that still made his body react when he thought of it.

“What?” Meg pulled him from his memory.

“Huh?”

She grinned slyly, as if she had read his thoughts, and then waved over a waitress.

He’d been patiently waiting for her to fully forgive him so he could start to show her he had changed. He thought she was getting there, but every now and then he saw the doubt in her eyes and felt her withdraw from him. Her distance wasn’t as prominent now as it had been two months ago, but her hesitation in completely opening up to him was still there.

He was tempted to ask her to dance when a slow song filled the bar and couples moved together on what little there was of a dance floor. But he refrained. Neutral conversation flowed as they finished their drinks. When her glass was empty, she paid her tab and stood to put on her jacket.

“Meg,” he said before he had a chance to think about it. She stopped reaching for her coat and looked at him. He held out his hand and nodded toward the dance floor. She was going to refuse him. He could see it on her face. “Please?”

She hesitated, but when an old Lionel Richie song started play, she slid her palm into his. He led her to the crowded dance floor while what used to be their song played. Though she kept as much distance between them as she could to start, by the time the second verse started, her cheek was pressed to his. He felt her breath on his neck and her body hot against his. She still fit perfectly, after all these years. He curled her arm so he could put her palm over his heart, and time seemed to slip away. Her scent, lavender and vanilla, filled him, and his heart beat faster.

They moved in time to the slow music, clinging to each other, and when the song ended he hesitated to lean back. The need to kiss her was undeniable, and the look in her eyes suggested she was fighting the same temptation. He dared to close the gap, to finally taste her lips again, but before he could make contact, she turned her head and his kiss fell to her hair.

She didn’t run away, but she did silently pull from his arms. He wanted to reel her back to him, but that would only make her defenses go back into full throttle. Pushing Meg when she wasn’t ready for something was like poking a rattlesnake with a stick. It never ended well.

So he followed instead, helped her into her coat, and put on his own. Outside, he walked her to her car, feeling like he could suffocate from the tension between them. She pushed the button on her remote to unlock the doors.

John reached around her to open the driver’s side door, but hesitated. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t my intention. I just wanted to dance.”

She shook her head and exhaled slowly. “I was there too.”

He lowered his face. “You feel it too. That undeniable pull between us. It’s still there.”

Again, she looked like she wanted to give in, but couldn’t quite allow it. “Yeah. It’s still there. But I’m not going to act on it.”