Meg's Moment (43 page)

“Believe it. I thought the old man was going to drop dead on the spot. He was utterly mortified.”

“But you got the urn and everything arranged?”

“Yep, I ordered the one for a hundred and fifty bucks, scheduled his service and got the hell out of there,” Megan said, around a mouthful of popcorn.

“And your mom? How’s she holding up? She hasn’t called yet.”

“I think she’s disowned me. She hit me with her purse and wouldn’t stop until I promised her I wouldn’t have sex with you tonight out of respect for Ted.”

“That’s only right I guess.” Jack said remembering the infamous brown purse beating he’d gotten at his first encounter with Megan’s mother
.

“Well, since it’s already past eleven, if we started a little foreplay now, we could probably be all the way up to the good stuff by mid-night. ‘Course my mother would probably kill me and bury me in the super glued urn if she ever found out.”

Jack smiled and brushed his lips against her ear. “Mmmm. My lips are sealed.”

And at 12:01, the fireworks started only to be interrupted by the phone ringing.

Megan belted it off the nightstand.

“I’m changing my number,” Jack said.

“It won’t do any good. She knows where you live.”

“Then let’s move to Somalia.”

***

Two weeks later, Megan sat nestled next to Jack on his leather couch. Bitty and Bugs, her four legged children sat at Jack’s feet looking like starving Ethiopian puppies hoping he’d accidentally drop a Cheeto. Spot was flirting with a rather eccentric blowfish in Jack’s aquarium, strutting his little fishy butt as he swam circles around his bowl. They were like a dysfunctional Dr. Doolittle family. All they needed was a smart mouthed bird and a stuck up cat and they’d be in business.

Later Jack took her to his bedroom and made mind blowing love to her yet again and she woke in his strong arms completely sated and wanting even more of him.

Whoa Mama! Holy cow! Talk about your mind blowing, headboard thumping, hot, steamy, wild animal sex. Megan smiled in spite of herself. She’d had sex before with Ted of course, even good sex from time to time, but this…this was blissful hysteria. Passionate, wild, no holds barred brain freezing pleasure. She should be asleep, God knows she was tired. Jack had passed out over and hour ago and after the workout they’d just had she wouldn’t be surprised if he slept for the next two days straight.

Her stomach growled and she thought about cheesecake. Sex and cheesecake. No great sex and strawberry deluxe cheesecake. Now that is living the American dream. Carefully, Megan untangled her legs from Jack’s and lifted his hand from her shoulder. She was just about to lift her head from his arm when he mumbled something in his sleep and snuggled her close.

She grinned. He’d said her name. He was dreaming about her. He mumbled something else and she froze.

What did he say?

It sounded like he said…

Surely he didn’t say…

Shit! He said it again. Suddenly all thoughts of cheesecake were gone. Her hunger had turned into nausea as she replayed his words in her head, then he said it again.

Double, triple shit.

“Marry me, Megan.” Those three little words were unmistakably clear even in his slurred, sex drugged sleep. “Marry me, Megan.”

Marry me, Megan. What was he
,
crazy? She had to get out of there. Now! Before he woke up and said those three ridiculous words in a conscious state of mind.

Sure she cared about him, she knew she loved him, but enough for marriage? Hell no! No way! Not now. Maybe not ever. So what if he was the sweetest, most sensitive and decent man she knew. So what if sex with him was off the charts. So what if the last couple weeks of her life had been the happiest she’d ever known. All of that was all good and fine but not a reason to marry him. Certainly not now after they’d known each other for a month. Hell, Ted was barely in the ground. The last thing on her mind should be marriage.

She stole a long, dreamy look at Jack. His eyes were closed, his jaw was stubbled and his hair stuck up in every direction. He was the essence of masculine perfection, gorgeous and content. He made her feel like a woman, a beautiful woman in and out of the bedroom. He made her laugh one minute and had her mad as hell the next. He made love to her with a ferocious passion that curled her toes and made her heart hammer in her chest so hard she sometimes feared it would pop out. He held her when she cried and cracked corny jokes to cheer her up. But most of all he made her feel alive.

He loved her; she knew that, even though he hadn’t told her. He liked her family, her friends, her pets. He was helping Stacy through AA and he accepted Mickey openly. He was a fantastic person, there was no denying that. But did that make him marriage material?

She shivered and slinked out of bed.

‘Mrs. Megan Westin.’ ‘Mrs. Jackson Westin.’ Okay so maybe it rolled nicely off her tongue, but so did Megan Malone and what had that gotten her?

She slipped out of his room quietly and headed for the front door before she realized she was naked. Clothes, she needed clothes. Her clothes were in Jack’s room. With Jack, who was sleeping and wanted to marry her. Involuntarily she shivered again and decided she’d risk going home naked before she’d wake him up and hash things out tonight. She needed space and time to think about things.

The laundry room. There were clothes in there and she’d take dirty clothes over a marriage proposal any day. She entered the laundry room and opened the dryer door. “Thank you Jesus.” She pulled out of pair of Jack’s sweats and a Harley Davidson tee shirt that had seen better days and wrestled them on, foregoing her underwear and gathered up her purse and Spot. She ran them to the car then went back for the dogs, who were curled up at the foot of the bed snoring in sync with Jack. She whispered their names and Bitty raised his head. She motioned for him to come on and he stood, circled the bed and lay back down beside Jack where Megan had laid minutes earlier. Bugs, who was crashed out on the floor on Jack’s side of the bed ignored her. “Traitors,” Megan accused and slipped back out of Jack’s room. She’d collect the dogs tomorrow. She could deal with Jack tomorrow. Tonight she just needed to get the hell out of there. Quick!

***

Jack awoke to the sensation of something warm and wet licking his chin. He smiled and decided to play possum so maybe she’d end up licking her way down his body below his belt. He remembered the first time she’d done that and the incredible feeling that had filled his entire body. Waking up with Megan in his bed was one
thing
,
her naked in his bed was another, but her naked in
h
is bed with her tongue on his…well that was beyond words.

She was panting Jack noticed and again he smiled. She wanted him bad. She was impatient and he decided not to make her wait a moment longer. Still keeping his eyes closed he reached for her and his hands came in contact with…hair? Lots of it! He stiffened and opened his eyes quickly, coming face to face with an excited, overweight, dog licking him like he had a pork chop strapped to his head. He patted the dog and surveyed the room. Megan wasn’t in there but her clothes were still there, her shoes in front of the closet. Maybe she was in the shower, although he didn’t hear water running. Maybe she was in the kitchen grabbing a bite to eat or at the computer working on her column.

Stretching lazily, he rose and pulled on a pair of boxers and strolled into the living room calling her name. She didn’t answer. Shit! Maybe she’d stepped out for something. He stumbled into the kitchen and put out some food for the pups
—
Megan had stocked his house as well as hers with puppy food. Remembering the fish, he went to the bookcase
—
where Spot lived during their visits
—
to feed him too, but Spot was gone. Jack eyed the coat rack and discovered Megan’s purse was gone too. What the hell? If she’d just stepped out she would have taken her purse, but not the fish. He looked around the kitchen counter, the table. No notes or at least there wasn’t one in any of the obvious places. Had she left without telling him? Without taking the dogs? That seemed very unlike her. He picked up the phone, listened for a dial tone and dialed.

***

Megan had abandoned sleep for cheesecake. After defrosting her favorite, Strawberry Chocolate Swirl, she poured herself a large glass of milk and not bothering to even slice the cake because she’d end up eating the whole damn thing anyway she dug in. Spot eyed her longingly for a bite so she crumbled a little crust and tossed it in his bowl. He darted to the top, ate the now soggy substance and didn’t seem impressed. Fish
we
re hard as hell to please.

The ringing phone startled her and she let the machine pick it up. She couldn’t imagine anyone on the other end that she cared to talk to. Her mother would be calling to lecture, her father usually just showed up if he had something to say, and she didn’t have the energy to deal with Granny. Josie would be with Dr. Ross this early in the morning probably engaging in a quickie before they both had to go to work. Bill was home so Ali was busy being blissfully married, Mickey never got up before ten and Stacy was with Scott on a much needed get-a-away.

That only left Jack, which Megan knew he was the caller. He hadn’t left a message but Megan knew it was him anyway because her heart flip-flopped and her nipples hardened. Damn, he’d gotten under her skin with that dark honey voice, those chocolate bedroom eyes, those experienced capable hands, those full, full lips and devilish grin. And that’s not mentioning the way he made sweet mindless love to her every night until she was so sated she wanted to smile and scream at the same time. And now he wanted to go and screw everything up by asking her to marry him.

If he even remembered asking her. He’d been asleep when he said it and suddenly Megan kicked herself for not thinking about that. Maybe he was just talking gibberish in his sleep and had no clue what the hell he was saying. Maybe if she didn’t say anything about it and he didn’t remember it she could pretend it hadn’t happened.

Nope that wouldn’t work. She heard him say it and if he was thinking about it subconsciously he’d bring it up sooner or later. It was inevitable that she’d have to deal with it.

The phone rang again
,
and again she made no attempt to get up and grab it. And here she thought the Johnson women were persistent. Jack could definitely give them a run for the money.

“What do you think Spot?” she asked the unconcerned fish. “Think mommy should answer that?”

Spot retreated to his treasure chest. “You’re no help,” she told the fish.

The machine picked up and this time she heard Jack’s strong, thick voice. “Megan, pick up.” A long pause passed then he said, “Pick up or I’m coming over.” Another pause then in a softer tone, “Come on, honey what’s wrong? Pick up.”

The rest of his message was cut short by the beep on the machine. She settled her gaze on the half eaten cheesecake, her appetite now gone.

Just a month ago her life was predictable, boring, safe. Now Ted was dead, she’d had bricks thrown at her, her house firebombed, been a murder suspect, had multiple orgasms and a man who she loved very much who wanted to marry her.

“Ain’t life a bitch,” she told her fish and started up the stairs to take a shower and try to deal with millions of thoughts swimming around in her aching head.

***

Where in the hell was she? He’d called her house and got the machine, she wasn’t at her parents and Mickey and Josie hadn’t heard from her. He tried her house again from his cell phone as he drove the short distance to her house. Shit, still no answer. Logically he knew she was safe; he’d had a long talk with the Madrino’s and was certain they wouldn’t mess with her anymore, plus they were on their best behavior awaiting trial for their previous indiscretions. And everyone else loved Megan, the woman had no enemies. Maybe something had happened to her grandmother, although he figured her mother would have said something if that were the case.

“Oh hell,” he muttered to himself. It was as obvious as the nose on his face. Everything finally hit her. Ted’s murder, their relationship. She hadn’t taken the time to mourn, Jack knew that because he’d worried about it and now it had probably all hit home and she was probably feeling guilty and ashamed. Hell
,
she’d been making love with him the night Ted was murdered and she’d been on her knees so to speak when the call had come in from the police. He felt like a real bastard so he couldn’t imagine how she was feeling.

He tapped the hard velvet box in his pocket. He’d been carrying it around for the past week waiting for the right time to ask her but suddenly he figured that that time was a ways off still. He removed the box from his pocket and tucked it in the glove box. He’d ask her and she’d say yes. Eventually. She had to because the thought of not waking up with her every morning for the rest of his life was something he simply couldn’t do. He loved her, had for fifteen years, and letting her go was something he just couldn’t do. Not now. Not ever. He’d be patient but he wouldn’t give up.

***

Megan was blow drying her hair when she heard the doorbell ringing followed by loud, determined banging on the door. Jack. No doubt about it. She finger combed her damp hair and was halfway down the staircase when she heard his key hit the door. She tilted her chin, squared her shoulders and tried to prepare herself. The door swung open and Jack yelled her name, surveying the dark house.