See Megan Run (4 page)

Jesus, the one-thing-led-to-another speech.
"Mother, when were you going to tell me? At the wedding?"

Nicole lifted her chin. "I want you to be the
maiden of honor."

"What?" Megan inspected her mother. Nicole’s
eyes weren’t dilated, nor did she wipe her nose continually, or
have track marks on her arms, so no outright signs of drug use.
"Your maiden of honor? Is this a part of the deal for me to get the
house? Because if that’s the case, then I’m walking." She hoped her
mother wouldn’t call her bluff.

"No, I told you all you have to do is be here
for the wedding. But I thought it’d be nice." Nicole took in a
breath. "I don’t have anyone else to be my maiden of honor."

A low blow, but she had to give it to her
mother, the woman was a professional when it came to guilt trips.
Her mother could teach a class on it. Lesson One: There is never a
bad time to use guilt, especially when trying to talk your child
into something they really don’t want to do. Only one word could
deflect the guilt, and it wasn’t you-can’t-make-me.

Megan climbed the stairs away from her mother
and said, "No."

"Can you at least think about it?"

Megan kept going. "I’m still trying to figure
out how you tricked Shep into marrying you."

"I’m sorry you feel that way about me. I’m
sorry."

It would have been so easy to fall back on
being the bitch, so tempting to spew all the old animosities she’d
built up over twelve years. Instead, Megan turned back to her
mother.

"The answer will stay
no
. I don’t
forgive you for what you did. You still haven’t admitted you kicked
me out over a man." Megan’s hand clutched the railing, and she
tried to calm the shaking in her limbs. "I’m here for the house and
the house only. I’ve agreed to your terms, and don’t ask me to do
more, because I will walk." And maybe there was a little pinch
around her heart when she saw her mother’s eyes start to
glisten.

"I was hoping… " Nicole shook her head. "The
wedding will be here soon enough for you."

Her mother turned and went out the door.
Megan flinched at the loud click it made. Jane came out of the
foyer. Megan had forgotten nothing was private or off limits from
gossip or eavesdropping in this place. She had better remember
while she was here, or the whole town would know by noon.

"You’re not licking the spoon," Jane finally
said, after boring holes into Megan with her eyes. Then she nodded
her head and went back toward the kitchen.

Twenty-seven more days of her mother, and of
Aiden. She wouldn’t last a week if this kept up. "That seems to be
my life story," Megan said to Jane’s retreating back.

Chapter 3

What in the hell am I doing
here?
 Megan asked herself the next morning as she poured a
cup of coffee. Diva Nicole had yet to awake, and the few quiet
moments were precious. Her elbows resting on the cold marble
island, she realized this morning was different. She wasn’t getting
the store ready for opening. She didn’t have to work out the
store’s budget. Nor did she have to worry about if and when the
next shipment of clothes would arrive. Megan hated the listless
feeling.

She saw herself as a doer. Could she survive
sitting around, twiddling her thumbs, for the next twenty-six days?
Megan sighed. Her only option would be to help her mother prepare
for the wedding. She pressed a hand against her uneasy stomach at
the prospect. To be honest, Megan knew she was being judgmental.
Shep—God, she loved Shep. He was the closest thing to a father she
had, next to her own father. Shep was the one thing Aiden and she
still shared. If Shep was intent on marrying her mother, they’d be
married. The man had a will that only divine intervention could
stop.

Megan welcomed the first hit of caffeine to
her system as more options filtered through her brain. She could be
a nice, loving, forgiving daughter. She had to take another sip of
coffee with the thought. It definitely wouldn’t be easy, but it
would make the month go by much more quickly. If she accepted that
option, then she’d have to admit the years of believing cynically
that leopards were unable to change their spots had finally made
her a disbelieving shrew.

Megan clasped her hands around the warmth
permeating from the cup. Or she could continue the cold war and
wait out her month. The days would stretch before her as she waited
for the other shoe to drop. The only old-Nicole-like behavior she
had witnessed consisted of her mother making them eat at the dinner
table. She didn’t have any reason not to trust her mother. Yet
she’d been conditioned to distrust. Different leopard, but just as
many spots.

The sound of shuffling slippers made her look
up. Shadows bruised the skin beneath Nicole’s eyes. That little
pinch started again, and by God Megan intended to ignore it. The
only responsibility she held was to herself. She had made sure over
the years it stayed that way, although somehow Lynne had snuck a
way into her heart. The pinch turned into an ache when Nicole said
a soft good morning. How long could she hold a grudge against her
mother?

"What’s on your agenda today?" Apparently,
not very long.

Nicole’s downtrodden expression transformed
into surprise. "Um, well, I need to get another set of fittings
done on the wedding dress. I’m supposed to be there in two hours.
Do you want to come with me? We can find you a dress."

By "dress" her mother meant one for Megan as
the maiden of honor. Everything in her said, No, No, No, but that
stupid little pinch sank its claws in at the hope-filled tone.

The traitorous words left her mouth before
she could stop them. "I’ll be delighted."

Her mother’s smile at the three words Megan
spoke almost made up for her bitchiness. She’d forgotten how much
of a knockout Nicole was when she turned on the 100-watts. The dark
depths of Nicole’s eyes lightened. Megan understood how good old
Shep would fall hard into them and offer her mother marriage. Most
men didn’t have the balls to fight that look.

"Are you sure? Because you don’t have to. I
won’t hold it against you."

"The whole community would," Megan muttered
into her cup. By now many upstanding citizens of Riverbed would
know of her presence, would be speculating on the bloodshed, and no
doubt expecting to see fireworks between Aiden and herself again.
They’d been one name growing up, much like Bennifer, because you
didn’t see one without the other. Was getting her father’s house
worth it?

Megan glanced at the walls, the same
peach-like color, the same fairy wallpaper trim. It was the home
she had loved more than anything, growing up. What was that saying?
If these walls could talk, they’d speak of the short-lived
happiness her father had brought into her life. They’d talk about
the soft, buttery pancakes he used to make for them in this room.
Yes, it would have to be, or why else would she subject herself to
her mother, to Aiden, and to the silent questions he refused to ask
her? Yes. Yes, it was.

"It’s the least I can do while I’m here,"
Megan said louder.

"Doesn’t sound very delighted." Nicole’s
smile didn’t falter. "But I’ll take what I can get. We have so much
to catch up on. I was thinking a pastels theme."

Pastels? Dear baby Jesus, what had she signed
herself up for?

"No need to panic." Nicole kept chattering.
"I have good taste."

Megan forced a smile. "Absolutely delighted."
Pastels?

*****

Aiden rested his feet on his desk. He was
already in a piss-poor mood. Sleep hadn’t come easy the night
before, and when he did get some sleep all he saw was Megan’s face.
In his dreams she touched him like she used to. Aiden closed his
eyes as the exhaustion pulled at his eyelids, and he saw her again
as if he were dreaming. The sigh settled in his chest. It was going
to be a very long month.

He tensed when he heard the door close.
"Morning, Shep."

Shep’s steps were measured. Something had
happened. "We have to go break up a brawl at Tessa’s."

"The Mackin brothers?" Aiden said, grabbing
his badge.

Shep snorted. "The Baker boys."

Aiden’s hand paused around the cool metal.
"Baker—as, in their seventies—boys?"

Shep hung the extra pair of cuffs to his
belt. "Correct."

It was going to be one of those mornings,
Aiden decided. He followed Shep out to the cruiser, mentally
preparing himself for trying not to break any of the older men’s
fragile bones.

Less than two minutes later, the car skidded
to a halt. Tessa’s Bar and Gab sat on the outskirts of Riverbed.
The building looked more like it should be condemned than like the
hottest spot in town.

The roof sagged forward, casting a shadow
over the fine-grained dirt surrounding the shack-like structure.
Aiden couldn’t see past the front glass window, blackened from
years of cigarette smoke. The swinging door squeaked when Shep
opened it. Aiden heard the raised voices of the brothers before he
saw Tessa standing between them. Gray hairs peppered the once-ebony
shade of the taut ponytail that made her look more Native American
than African American.

At a glance, you wouldn’t think someone who
barely made it to your chest could put the fear of God into a man’s
heart, but he’d seen her at work. The Baker brothers, too, had seen
her at work, and Aiden could bet that was the reason the men were
no longer fighting.

"About damn time you made it," Tessa huffed.
The moment she stepped back from between them, Reggie took a swing
at his brother.

"Hell," Aiden muttered and grabbed Reggie by
the cuff of his collar. The old man gagged and his swinging arm
went to his throat. Aiden let go.

"You didn’t have to choke me, boy."

"You didn’t have to fight in Tessa’s." Aiden
pointed out. "I’m sure you have plenty of room down at the Baker
farm to kill each other at will."

Shep held up his hand. "May I ask what
happened?" He ignored Greg’s sputtered start as he stated the
question to Tessa.

"I’m pulling a draft, and Reggie here takes a
swing at Greg. I don’t know what started these two old coots at it,
but they better be glad there wasn’t any damage." She wrinkled her
nose in disgust but added, "I don’t want to press charges."

Shep pushed Greg down onto the bar stool.
"And what happened?"

"He said… " Reggie started.

"Hush, Reggie," Aiden ordered. "You don’t
want to push your luck." Reggie stuffed his hands in his
pockets.

Greg shook his head. "We were talking about
the last baseball game, and he said the Red Sox didn’t have a
chance in hell. He said the Yankees"—the words were laced with
venom—"would shut them out in the first four games."

Aiden shook his head.

Shep turned his gaze to Reggie. "And did you
punch him?"

"He said the Yankees were a bunch of yuppies
in uniforms and what should he expect from people who live in New
York."

Aiden stared at the man in disbelief. They
were pulled out here over baseball. Fighting over a woman he almost
understood—it depended on the woman—but baseball? "You’re under
arrest for disturbing the peace."

"What?" Reggie and Shep said
simultaneously.

Aiden continued. "You have the right to
remain silent."

"Aiden." Shep stepped forward. Aiden placed
the handcuffs on the old man and pushed him toward the door.

"What is he doing?" he heard Greg say. "I
mean, I’m mad at him and all, but arresting him?"

"Aiden." He didn’t pause at the steel in
Shep’s voice as he walked out to the car. Aiden opened the back
door and helped Reggie into the seat.

"I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but
this isn’t like you," his prisoner complained.

Aiden’s jaw tightened at the accurate
observation. He hadn’t been himself since he allowed Megan to drive
off without a speeding ticket. He definitely hadn’t been feeling
his usual self since he touched her. His disposition had gone
downhill from there. Aiden shook off the thoughts and said, "Yeah,
well, put your foot in so I can close the door."

Reggie scowled, but did as he was asked.
Aiden turned to see it wouldn’t be as easy with his uncle. He
stepped in front of the door.

"What do you think you are doing?"

Aiden crossed his arms, ready for battle.
"I’m trying to keep the peace."

"You think arresting a seventy-year-old man
will keep the streets of Riverbed safe?"

"It’ll keep order. I don’t think you realize
how many people are about to descend on us." Aiden continued when
confusion clouded his uncle’s face.

"How many cousins do I have?"

"At least twenty that live in the state."

"If I’m not mistaken, won’t my other aunts
and uncles, my cousins and their boyfriends and girlfriends be
here, too? And let’s not forget old acquaintances of yours whom I’m
sure you’ve invited to the wedding. All of them," Aiden emphasized,
"are starting to trickle in for the sideshow."

"Wedding," Shep corrected.

"Same difference, when it comes to
family."

Shep’s brows furrowed. "What does this have
to do with you arresting Reg?"

"We are making a statement. Let’s not forget
he did break the law."

Shep mimicked Aiden’s movement and crossed
his arms. At his uncle’s deadpan expression Aiden realized a moment
too late he’d loaded that last line with too much b.s.

"And this arrest has nothing to do with the
crappy mood you’ve been in all morning?"

If Aiden paused, his uncle would think he was
lying. If he answered with absolute certainty, his uncle would
think he was lying. He couldn’t win, so he settled on, "I wouldn’t
be making an arrest to brighten my mood."

"Is Megan going to be a problem?"

She was never the problem. For Aiden she was
his solution and that was the problem. He’d planned out his life
with her in it, and when she left, so did that ideal. He’d settled
down to a satisfying career. He avoided serious relationships and
kept things simple.