Crossing the Line (3 page)

Megan saw Paul slip out of the reception hall. She was talking to a guy named Kevin. He was nice enough, but she couldn’t help compare him to Paul. On top of that, she’d met plenty of guys like Kevin before. He was looking for someone to warm his bed and, for once, Megan wasn’t interested.

When a half hour passed and Paul didn’t return, Megan politely excused herself from the conversation she’d been having. She’d thought Paul was going to the bathroom or something, but she was starting to worry that something else was up. Knowing Paul would never leave Chloe, she went in search of the little girl. 

As she began pressing her way through the crowd, Gage snuck up beside her. “Do you want to dance?”

“You mean you’re willing to leave Becca’s side for that long?”

Gage clutched his chest as if she’d wounded him. “I’m not that bad.”

She snorted. “You really are.”

“Now you sound like your sister.” Gage was frowning, which only made Megan laugh more. “Okay, fine. She sort of told me not to come back for at least fifteen minutes under threat of bodily harm. Not that I’d mind exactly, but Chris might take issue if she pulls one of her self-defense moves on me in the middle of his wedding reception.”

“I’m surprised she hasn’t kicked your ass yet.”

His eyes lit up, and he smirked. “Who says I don’t like it when your sister gets a little frisky?”

“Eww!” Megan feigned revulsion. In truth, she was ecstatic that her sister had finally met her match. Gage fawned all over Rebecca, but he also didn’t let her push him away. He refused to let her hide behind that wall she’d built up because of her and Megan’s parents. Megan understood. She had walls of her own. That didn’t mean she didn’t want what Rebecca had finally found with Gage. Of course she did. Megan wanted to be loved and adored and cherished. She just didn’t think it was in the cards for her. 

“Come on. Please?” Gage pouted, making Megan laugh harder. He could be such a goof sometimes.

“Sure. Fine. Come on.”

Gage danced with her for two songs, and then said he needed to go check on Rebecca. Megan knew her sister was more than capable of taking care of herself. But she also knew that it was useless telling Gage that. She would love to be a fly on their wall sometimes to watch her sister put the big burly football player in his place.

Shaking her head, Megan wandered over to the buffet tables. She’d eaten some of the smaller stuff earlier, but after dancing her stomach was demanding nourishment. Filling her plate, she looked around the room for some place to sit. She spotted Gage and Rebecca immediately, but they looked to be in the middle of what Megan had learned to be foreplay for them—other people called it fighting. The last thing she wanted to do was get in the middle of that. If experience was anything to go by, they’d be sneaking up to their room soon to take out their aggression in other more sexual ways. Thank goodness her room was nowhere near theirs. 

The bride and groom were across the room, eating and chatting with some of their guests, while Trent and his dad, Mike, were a few feet away. The Danielses were social people, and she liked them. A lot. It was just that she didn’t know them very well. The two exceptions to that were Paul—who was MIA—and Chloe, so when she spotted the little girl with her grandmother, Megan strolled over to join them. “Mind if I sit?”

“Of course not.”

“Me-gan, I’m eating chicken.”

Megan smiled, and picked up her fork. “Is it good?”

Chloe nodded in an exaggerated fashion as she shoved another piece of chicken in her mouth. They’d been working on eating with utensils, and Chloe was decent at using the kiddie ones, but the normal-sized forks that they had at the reception were a bit much for her tiny hands. 

“How have you been, Megan? I haven’t seen you since Gage and Rebecca’s wedding.”

Megan swallowed the bite of food she was chewing before answering. “Good. Keeping busy. Rebecca talked me into taking some online classes.”

“Oh, that’s a great idea. Do you have a degree in mind?”

“Not really. I’ve always been interested in art, so maybe something to do with that. I don’t know yet.”

As if Marilyn and Megan weren’t in the middle of a conversation, Chloe interrupted. “Guess what, Megan? I’m going to sleep in Grandma and Grandpa’s room tonight. We’re having a sweepover.”

Not able to hide her smile, Megan reached for her drink. “You mean a sleepover? That sounds fun.”

“Yep.” Chloe was nodding again. “A sleep-over.”

The next five minutes or so were spent listening to Chloe tell Megan all about the sleepover she was going to have with her grandparents, including the movie they were going to watch, and how she was going to get to stay up really, really late. It was impossible not to smile. Chloe put her whole heart into everything she did, and from what Megan had observed while living with Chloe and her father, the little girl was very much like her mother. 

Those thoughts led right back to Chloe’s father. Paul still hadn’t returned, and Megan was beginning to worry about him. Had something happened with work? Or was it the wedding in general? The look on his face earlier reminded her of the one he’d get whenever she’d pass by his bedroom and catch him holding the picture of his wife in his hands. Paul was a great guy, and she didn’t like seeing him hurting. 

As Megan finished her food, she chatted back and forth with Marilyn. Every now and then, Chloe would interject a comment or share a story. When Mike Daniels, the patriarch of the Daniels family, approached the table, Megan decided it was time to go in search of Paul. She said her goodbyes, and kissed Chloe on the cheek, before going to find her sister. 

Rebecca could, of course, read her like a book. “Oh no. What’s wrong?”

Luckily, Gage wasn’t around. “Nothing’s wrong. Where’s your husband?” 

“He went to get me some more food. Stop deflecting.”

“I’m not deflecting.” It was sort of a lie, but not really. She knew that if she told her sister she was going to look for Paul, Rebecca would tell her husband and soon the entire Daniels clan would be off in search of him. Megan knew Paul wouldn’t want that. 

“Then why do you have that look on your face?”

“Maybe because I’m tired?”

“Uh-huh.”

Not wanting to fight with her sister, Megan got to the point. “I just wanted to let you know that I’m heading up to my room. It’s been a long day, and I’m ready to crash.”

“Oh. Okay.”

Rebecca looked torn for some reason. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“Becca?”

“I saw the way you were looking at Paul earlier.”

“Okay. And?”

“And . . .” She sighed. “Is something . . . you know, going on with you two?”

Megan’s mouth fell open. She felt it, and she had no control of it at all. Her and Paul? Sure, he was attractive. Okay, more than attractive. But he’d never shown any interest in her that way, so even if she wanted to, which she kind of did, she wouldn’t push herself on him like that. He and his family had taken Rebecca and Megan in, embracing them as part of the family. Plus, Paul wasn’t over his wife. Megan knew that, above all else. “No. Why would there be? Besides, just because you’re getting your freak on all over the place doesn’t mean everyone else is.”

Rebecca let out a relieved breath. “All right.”

As if a lightbulb went off in her head, Megan narrowed her eyes at her sister. “What? You thought that just because he’s a man and I live with him now that there has to be something going on?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“No. You didn’t, but you implied it. I’m not a little kid anymore, Rebecca.” 

“I know. I’m so—”

Megan waved off her apology. “I’m going to my room. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Megan?”

Megan continued walking, and she was glad to hear Gage asking Rebecca what was wrong. He would keep her sister from following her. Megan knew she’d have to deal with Rebecca tomorrow, and that was fine. Right now, however, she needed some space. And to find Paul. 

Something in the back of her mind told her to let it go—to leave him be. Megan pushed it aside and told herself that she just needed see that he was all right. Then she could go up to her room, find some cheesy romantic movie on television, and fall asleep. 

Chapter 3

Megan looked everywhere she could think of, even walking outside to see if she could spot him talking on his cell or something, but she came up empty. He was nowhere to be found, and after twenty minutes of searching, she decided to head upstairs to her room. She figured he had to come back eventually, right?

As soon as Megan stepped inside her room, she kicked off her shoes. High heels made your legs look great, but they were killer on your feet. 

Next to come off was her jewelry, and then finally, her dress. She’d dressed up more than usual for Chris and Elizabeth’s wedding—more sophisticated, too. The dress she’d chosen was knee length, perfectly conservative, and had cute ruffled sleeves. To be honest, she was dressed more like her sister than she was herself. On most days, Megan preferred jeans and T-shirts, although she also liked skirts that showed off her legs. She might only be five foot five, but she had nice legs. Why not flaunt them?

She padded into the bathroom in her bare feet, figuring she’d go ahead and get ready for bed. When she emerged ten minutes later, she found the kitty cat pajamas she’d brought with her—since moving in with Paul and Chloe, she’d had to make adjustments to her sleepwear—and put them on. 

Megan was about to crawl into bed and see what she could find on television when she heard what sounded like something crashing to the floor next door. Jumping up, Megan went to the door connecting her room with Paul’s. He’d gotten them adjoining rooms to make it easier for Chloe, but since the little girl was with her grandmother, Megan knew the noise had to be coming from Paul. 

“Paul? Are you all right over there?”

No answer.

“Paul?”

Still nothing.

Without stopping to think, Megan turned the handle on the door. It wasn’t locked, and it opened easily.

She peeked inside, and what she saw had her scrambling across the room in a hurry. Paul was balanced—barely—against the dresser that supported the television. He looked as if he’d just come from the bathroom, and he was drunk. Not a little drunk, but can’t-walk-straight-or-talk-without-slurring-his-words drunk. She’d never seen him like this.

“Meg-Meg-an.” He sighed, and attempted to raise his arm toward her as she wrapped her arm around his waist. He was twice her size, and in his current condition, he was dead weight.

With little help from him, Megan moved him a few feet over to the bed. He plopped down so hard he bounced.

Once she was fairly sure he wasn’t going to topple over, she glanced around the room. That was when she noticed the bottle of scotch on the coffee table. Most of the bottle appeared to be gone, and as there was no one else in the room, she had to assume he’d drunk it all himself. 

“Will you be okay for a minute?”

“Su-sure.” Paul smiled up at her, and she felt something flutter in the pit of her stomach. 

Stop it
, she told herself, as she marched back into her room to get some ibuprofen. 

He was still where she left him when she returned with something for the headache he was bound to have come morning. She took one of the glasses provided by the hotel into the bathroom to fill it up with water, before returning to stand directly in front of him. “Here. Take these. If you drank as much as I think you did, then you are going to have one massive hangover in the morning.”

Without comment, or protest, Paul downed the pills like they were candy. She handed him the water, and he drained that within seconds as well. 

When he was done, she took the glass from him, and went to refill it. Again, he drained it when she brought it back to him. Once he polished that one off, Megan set aside the empty glass. She couldn’t help but wonder what had brought this on, although she was pretty sure she knew. 

Megan was lost in thought when she felt Paul’s fingers brush the outside of her legs. At first, she thought it was unintentional, but then he got bolder and flattened his palms so that they were bracketing her waist. She could feel the heat of his hands through her clothes. Megan knew she should push him away—he was drunk, after all—but she couldn’t. She wanted to see what he would do.

“Always wear . . . most in . . . testing . . . p . . . jamaszzz.”

She swallowed. He noticed her pajamas? Since when? “I like cats.”

“Mmm.” Paul slipped the pads of his thumbs under her shirt, and began making circles against her belly. It was incredibly intimate—more intimate than a lot of the sex she’d had. This felt different. It was different. This was Paul. He wasn’t like the guys she normally hung out with.

“Paul?” Her voice cracked. Why did she feel as if this was her first time?

Again, he ignored her, and this time he leaned forward, pulling her closer. He lifted her shirt, exposing her stomach, and pressed his lips against her skin. 

Megan reacted in the only way she could, by placing her hands on his head, lacing her fingers through his hair. What was happening?

Paul continued upward with his exploration—pushing her shirt out of the way as he went—until he reached her breasts. He cupped each one, filling both his hands, and began kneading and lifting them. Her nipples hardened, and she felt her body react in other ways. She knew she should stop him, but she couldn’t. Megan had dreamt about this . . . how it could happen . . . but she’d never imagined it would be like this.

He eased her left breast into his mouth and began sucking on it as though it was his life source. Megan moaned. She was a woman who liked sex, and it had been almost five months. No matter how wrong she knew this was, if he was willing, she wasn’t going to say no.

Hearing her pleasure, Paul released her breast, and leaned back on the bed, pulling her down with him. He cupped the back of her head, and a second later, his mouth was covering hers—his tongue pushing against her lips—begging, demanding entrance. 

She opened her mouth, and his tongue surged inside, licking and caressing. Megan could taste the alcohol on his breath, but she also tasted him—something that was uniquely him. Even with Paul being drunk, she could tell he was a good kisser. He angled her head exactly the way he wanted it as he continued his assault on her mouth.