Dead Man's Bluff Page 7

  “Why do I suddenly feel like a small child being slapped across the wrist with a ruler?”

  “Answer the question?”

  He planted his elbows on the table and glared at her. “She’s better off without me.”

  “Oh come off of it! I know you Drew Mackenzie, and you’re not that selfless. Answer please, do you think what you’re doing is working?”

  “No. My irresistible charm doesn’t seem to be working its usual magic.”

  “Okay, we’re making progress. At least you’re being honest with yourself. Do you love her?”

  WTF. “Pushy, Emma, guys don’t find it attractive.”

  Her forehead thumped on the table top as she collapsed forward in frustration. “I’m beginning to think you’re hopeless.”

  He frowned, spinning the empty can on the table top. “Gee thanks.”

  She sat back up, pushed the blonde hair from her eyes. “Break the cycle of destructive behavior. Start fresh! Do you love her?”

  He remembered Jill’s words. “Do you really love this girl that much?”

  “How screwed up would it be if I said yes,” he finally muttered.

  “Is it an honest answer?”

  “What do you think?”

  Chair legs squealed over the floor as she pushed back from the table and came around to his side. She leaned in leveling him with a serious look. “Well, you better do something about it before you lose her for good?”

  His gaze met hers and good grief, this new, grown-up version of Emma was a little bit intimidating. He asked, “Are you suggesting I buy her flowers? Write her a poem?”

  Laughter filled the kitchen, Emma’s laughter. “God no, I can’t picture you doing any of those things, just stop trying to convince everyone that you hate her.”

  “Nice nail polish, princess!” he called as her bare feet padded out of the room.

  Break the cycle of destructive behavior.

  Start fresh.

  How the hell was he supposed to do that? ♠

  Megan grabbed a quick shower, threw on a pair of sweat pants with a bagging T-shirt and was hugging her dirty towel and clothes to her chest when she stepped out of the bathroom crashing into Drew. “Sorry,” she said, little red blotches breaking out along the column of her throat.

  I was just coming to your room,” he said continuing on in that direction.

  “Why?” With everything she had she attempted to push past him, to beat him there. “I swear… I’ll stab you in your sleep if you try to start another fight with him!”

  “Have you thought of doing me bodily harm often, Filly?” He chuckled beating her to the door of the bedroom. They scuffled, both reaching for the knob at the same time, but ultimately, since her arms were full, Drew made it inside first. A sharp pain shot through his chest at the sight of the guy rising up on an elbow; already settled under the sheets of what used to be his bed. The guy reached for a pair of glasses on the bedside table and slid them on.

  Break the cycle of destructive behavior.

  Start fresh.

  This was going to be more difficult than he thought.

  Breathe. Control your anger.

  He opened his mouth, but Megan cut him off. “Drew, don’t…”

  So she didn’t think he could play nice, that was all the nudge he needed to step closer to the bed and extend his hand. “I was a dick earlier. Can we start over?”

  Conner eyed the hand with suspicion, but eventually reached out accepting Drew’s offer of a fresh start. Seeing Megan’s mouth fall open was a sweet victory, which made a huge smile appear on Drew’s face.

  Drew shoved his hands into his pockets. “Good. I see you two are already settled in. Do you need anything? Extra blankets? More pillows?” His questioning gaze locked with hers. “Megan, I think Birdie moved all the extra linens. They’re out in the cedar chest now.” He stepped towards her reaching for the dirty pile in her arms. “Here, let me take those…”

  She took a step back, shook her head, and snapped, “No! Thanks, but I don’t need your help!”

  Mission accomplished. She was staring at him as if he’d lost his mind.

  “Well, goodnight you two.”

  He walked out, pulled the bedroom door closed; exhaling the breath he’d been holding. Now, how the hell was he going to sleep with her right down the hall in bed with another man? His bed!

  He wasn’t. ♠

  “What was that?” Megan said once the door closed. She finally dropped the dirty clothes on the floor by the bed, her insides trembling. If he would have insisted on taking the clothes from her, she would have been forced to knee him in the nuts. “Can you believe he just came in here like that? What was he thinking?”

  “Obviously he realized how immature he has been behaving and wanted to set things straight. Blows the whole image I already formed of him from earlier.” Conner removed the glasses, placed them on the table and settled his head back on the pillow, “It certainly makes me feel more comfortable about leaving you here.”

  “Whys that?” Megan asked, easing down on the edge of the bed.

  “Apparently he has moved past whatever happened between the two of you. Earlier I could have sworn he was jealous, but…Meg, would you stop stalling and get into bed. I have to get up at 5:30Am to head home,” A corner of his mouth curled, “…and its cold in this bed alone.”

  She wanted to scream finish what you were about to say! I could have sworn he was jealous, but…” BUT WHAT? Good grief, was she really worried about that when she was about to get into bed with a man she still hadn’t even had sex with? Would he try? Of course he would. So what if he did? They were about to be married, it would be natural for him to at least try, wouldn’t it? Drew Mackenzie sure wouldn’t let an opportunity to get laid slide.

  Conner exhaled an impatient breath and stretched an arm for the lamp on the bedside table. He killed the light. Megan’s heart raced as she slipped her feet under the covers and settled in on her back. He was facing her on his side, which made the likeliness of him attempting something even that more likely. Why did she suddenly feel nauseated? She shouldn’t feel nauseated at the thought of having sex with her soon to be husband. It’s nerves. That’s all. Relax.

  She felt his fingers brush her thigh and her entire body jumped in response. He murmured, “Aren’t you hot in those sweat pants, baby?”

  Biting down on her bottom lip, she shook her head. “No. I’m good…caught a chill earlier, can’t seem to shake it.”

  He pushed up onto an elbow, “Really, are you okay? You’re not getting sick are you?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’m sure.”

  Here it comes, the slow wiggle over, putting him up against her signaling he wanted sex. He extend a strong arm, circled it around her waist and she was sliding across the sheets until she was firmly pressed up against him, his front heating her back. “You do realize this is the first time we’ve shared a bed?”

  “Uh huh,” she gulped, holding her breath in anticipation.

  His arm tightened possessively around her, his breath hot against her shoulder, “I’m lucky… I get to hold you like this every night for the rest of my life, night baby.” He softly kissed her skin.

  Megan laid there staring at shadows on the walls. It was impossible for her not to think about what she’d done in that bed with Drew Mackenzie. The sheets, her pillow, everything surrounding her smelled like his cologne, spicy and fresh yet subtle.

  She felt crowded, and as soon as Conner’s breathing evened out with sleep she wiggled out of his hold, tucked her hands under her chin, her gaze fixated on the bedroom door, the only thing standing between him and her. Well, it wasn’t the only thing. The other thing was snoring behind her, oblivious to the fact that his soon to-be-wife was conflicted. As hard as she tried not to think about Drew she couldn’t help wondering, was he really sleeping in Tink’s room? Or was he on the couch? She mentally scolded herself, “What are yo
u wanting? To go check on him? Offer him comfort? Good grief, Meg! You’re about to be married! To another man! A good man!” How was it possible Drew could still cause such a strong reaction in her?

  Her mother’s words nagged in her ear, “Meg, don’t you want to experience passion in your marriage?”

  Yes, she wanted to experience passion, but she also wanted to experience devotion, a partnership, a bond so strong no one could break it. She finally closed her eyes, her lashes pushing the well of tears down her cheeks and fell asleep, dreaming of… him. ♠

  Eleven

  Megan woke to the sound of birds chirping and there was something else…hammering? She squinted at the clock on the bedside table. 10:30 Am. Her arm slowly snaked out over the empty space next to her finding a cool spot. It was nothing new; she was used to sleeping alone. She stretched like a newborn waking up from a deep satisfying sleep, arched her back, made a sound of contentment breathing in the amazing smell of his cologne: on the pillows cases, the sheets… then her lazy eyes widened as she suddenly remembered where she was. She sat straight up. Oh crap, she’d over slept. Conner? Had he overslept too? No. Her gaze scanned the sunny room, the bedroom door left slightly ajar, the sheer curtains pulled shut doing a horrible job of blocking out the morning sun, landing on a note propped up against the lamp by the bed.

  You looked so peaceful sleeping I hated to wake you. See you in a few days~ Love Conner

  She collapsed down with a sigh on her belly and hugged her pillow close seeing no point in rushing to get out of bed. A hammer struck again. Deep male laughter and voices came from outside her window. Curious, she crawled out from underneath the covers and padded over to the window pulling aside the curtain. Her belly clenched at the sight of men working on the roof of the barn. Who had ordered it? Every time she went near that barn or car she felt a panic attack coming on. She knew she hadn’t dealt with Tink’s death. It was easier to move away, forget the ranch and everything that had happened there. But that didn’t make the hurt go away, it only subdued the pain, but it was still there waiting to surface in the form of panic attacks or stomach ulcers. The memories and the pain. Had Drew felt the same thing? He was closer to the old man than anyone else. Tink was like a father to Drew. Had he dealt with Tink’s death or was this his attempt to set things right: fixing the car and the roof of the barn. Her stomach turned over as the image of him standing next to that car with oil smeared on his handsome face popped into her head. Seeing him there, like that, had been so unexpected she had been speechless…and then he had reminded her of why she had avoided him for two years…he’s a cold hearted asshole whenever he opened his mouth.

  She grabbed a sweater thrown over the back of a chair, stuck her arms through the sleeves, and hugged her chest tight with the fabric as she made her way through the house. Stepping out on the porch, pulling the screen door shut behind her, she saw Emma sitting in one of the rockers. The eighteen year old girl had both her tan legs draped over an arm of the rocker, punching out a text on her cell. Her blonde hair was swept over a shoulder and lightly braided into a single braid. She was wearing cut off jean shorts and a tank top she’d filled out quite a bit over the two years Megan had not seen her. Emma had grown up. Grown up to be a beautiful girl. No a woman. She was becoming a woman. A woman with the same needs Megan felt. Megan hated that she felt a little twinge of jealousy for the girl and the perfect body she obviously enjoyed flaunting for every man around to see. But she couldn’t fault the girl when she’d been the same way once.

  Emma didn’t even bother glancing up.

  Megan cleared her throat. “What’s going on?”

  “With?” Emma’s thumbs punched away? Who was she talking to that was so important they had her full attention?

  “What’s going on with the barn?”

  Shoulder shrug, “Drew hired some men to come out and fix it.”

  Eyeing a very familiar truck in the drive, Megan asked, “One of these men wouldn’t happen to be Robbie, would it?”

  The girl just wouldn’t commit to the conversation. “Think so. Not sure. Ask Drew.”

  Anger festered under the surface. Megan fisted her hands in the hem of her sweater. “Ugh, he knows how much I dislike Robbie. I should have known his nice streak was bullshit. Where is Drew?”

  Finally vibrant blue eyes rimmed with curled lashes, sporting layers of mascara connected with hers. Emma slid her cell in a back pocket and lit with a smile. “He borrowed my car for an appointment this morning. Wait till you hear the good news!”

  Emma was capable of excitement. What or whom her excitement was for was unsettling. The questions started racing through Megan’s mind: Had Emma been texting Drew this entire time? Was he sharing secrets with her before anyone else? Should she even care? He was borrowing her car? Did that little detail mean something was going on between the two of them?

  Megan suddenly felt nauseated. She studied Emma through new eyes. There were only a couple of year’s difference in Em’s age and hers. She’d just never allowed herself to think of the girl as competition, and she really wasn’t since Megan was about to be married. Someone else’s competition, maybe, not hers. Would it be so strange for Drew to realize the girl he’d always wanted and loved had been right under his nose? Who was she kidding? Drew didn’t love anyone, but himself. She needed to sit down. She and Emma didn’t speak to each other again while they waited. It was tense. Like they both had something they wanted to say, but neither was willing to say it. Then Emma’s’ little Honda rumbled into the driveway, passed Robbie’s truck, and parked next to the house.

  She heard the engine die and a car door opened and shut, and then saw Drew coming up the walk towards them. As usual he wasn’t in a hurry and walked as if he had all day to get where he was going. He was wearing a suit, but had lost the jacket and rolled the sleeves of his dress shirt to the elbows, looking very similar to the day he’d shattered her heart, too handsome for words. The kind of untamed handsome any woman with a brain would notice, so of course Emma had. Megan cut her eyes to the rocking chair gauging her competitions reaction.

  Em leaped out of the rocker, tromped bare foot down the steps, and flung herself right into Drew’s arms almost bowling him over. With her arms latched around his neck Emma bounced up and down, squealing. “Oh my God, oh my God…this is so wonderful! I can’t believe it. Finally!!”

  Finally? Finally what? Finally they could announce their love to the world? Megan’s heart beat as if it wanted to leap out of her chest where it would no longer be subjected to the pain. He still had the capacity to wound her deeply and he wasn’t even aware of it. God, what had she done coming here? It was mistake, one of many always including Drew Mackenzie. Is this what she wanted in her life? A shitload of hurt?

  As if he could feel her heart breaking over him his dark eyes lifted to hers as he loosely hugged Emma, patting her on the upper back. Their gazes locked and held. Her eyes narrowed as she mentally tried to tell him, “I hate you. I hate you for making me feel like this. I hate you for not realizing how you felt about Emma long before you ever encouraged me to care!”

  One hour and twenty five minutes earlier:

  Were all banks this stuffy? The pressure pressing into his throat felt long fingers crushing his windpipe, making it damn near impossible for him to breathe. Drew loosened his tie. He undid the top button of his dress shirt, and then another. Surely the woman wouldn’t notice. He was wearing a damn suit for goodness sakes. Wasn’t that professional enough? He inhaled a deep breath feeling some instant relief from the loosened tie. He still wanted to get the hell out of there. What was taking the woman so long to make a copy of his driver’s licenses and social security card? Occasionally he’d wipe the sweat from his brow. His knee bounced. Shit. He needed a cigarette. Bad.

  He allowed his mind to wander someplace else, someplace guaranteed to keep his mind off taking a long, deep satisfying drag off of a Marlboro. His fingers played the drums on the arm of the chair, the crazy beat d
ying off at the sound of the woman’s heels clicking over the tiled floor, announcing her return.

  The woman looked to be in her late twenties, attractive, and wore way too much makeup and perfume for his taste, but her clothes were conservative: gray fitted shin length skirt with a simple black top which he would find sexy…if he were interested. She closed the office door, returned his items and went to sit behind the desk. “Okay, now, unless you’d like to sing for me, we should probably take a closer look at your application?”

  He shook his head to her offer to allow him to embarrass himself any further, leaned forward, elbows on his knees, chin braced by his knuckles which he didn’t even realize he’d cracked until the woman’s red lips curved up. “You’re nervous? It’s understandable, but there’s no need to be, I’m sure we can work something out.”

  The way her eyes sparkled skimming every inch of him still holding that amusement, he wondered what exactly she was offering. It was obvious she had an attraction for guys that made complete jackasses out of themselves. A month ago he probably would have flirted with her, asked her out to dinner and took her back to his apartment for wild meaningless sex. But that idea was no longer appealing. He wanted to believe the only reason he wasn’t interested was because he had too much riding on this meeting to blow it, but he also knew Megan’s face popping into his head at that exact moment had a lot to do with it too.