See Megan Run (5 page)

The way he lived proved he was fine. He was
over her. He was man enough to admit the thought of her still tied
him in knots. And maybe he was a little angry at how easily she’d
waltzed back into his life. He rolled his shoulders and could feel
Reggie’s glare through the backseat window.

"Are you with me on this arrest or not?" He
replied without answering Shep’s question. People who held torches
for twelve years were likely to get burned.

Shep sighed. "I’m going to get hell for
this."

The tension keeping his stomach tight
loosened, but he knew he hadn’t fooled his uncle. Shep just wasn’t
ready to dive into those piranha-infested waters. Aiden went with
the silent omission. "You are the Chief."

Shep turned to see half of the occupants of
Tessa’s standing at the door. "Dammit."

For some reason the epithet made Aiden feel
so much better.

Chapter 4

Megan closed the door to her old bedroom
before dialing The Boutique’s private line and sank onto the bed as
the phone rang. At Lynne’s upbeat greeting, Megan collapsed
backward into the welter of pink pillows. "Is everything okay
there?"

"Well, hello to you, too."

"Lynne."

"Everything is fine. The place hasn’t burned
down, and no one’s quit. I’d say it’s been a good day. Mrs. Nelson
came by and bought a crapload of sweaters. I unpacked another box
of those bad boys. She might come back with friends. What else? Oh,
UPS guy came by to flirt with you and got me. He left slightly
disappointed. Other than that, nothing. How are things on your
end?"

Megan stopped herself from asking more
questions. Lynne was competent to handle anything, and if something
was out of her range of knowledge she wasn’t the type to hesitate
about calling. Megan sucked in a breath, reminding herself she was
technically on vacation. A very long arduous vacation, but a
vacation, nonetheless. "I’ve decided to be nice to the woman who
birthed me."

"Oh, she’s back to that?"

"After today she is. I agreed to be her
maiden of honor. Bad idea. She made me try on every dress in the
tri-state area. I want to know who invented pastels?"

"LSD," Lynne said dryly.

"I mean, really, that stuff is toxic to any
skin tone. Finally I talked her into this chic mauve dress."

"Hmm," Lynne said in a thought tone. "You
sound excited about this. One would start to think your mother
isn’t so bad for you."

Megan sat up, realizing the tone of her own
voice. It did sound optimistic. She did not come home to get a
personality transplant. She had better watch herself. "I’m still
waiting to see what the catch is. My mother isn’t going to hand
over the house to me without looking back or making sure she still
has a hand in how I’m going to deal with it."

"You’re not going to take this at face value,
are you?"

"What do you mean?" Megan kicked off her
shoes and considered changing before dinner.

"That your mom wanted you there, and that she
wants you to have the house, and the only way she could have both
was to convince you to stay for the wedding."

Feeling smothered, Megan pushed the pillows
to the end of the bed. "I’m cynical, and that’s why you love
me."

"True." Defeat filled Lynne’s sigh. "How’s
Aiden?"

Megan closed her eyes, seeing him again. The
way his dimple peeked out with every bite of food. The way his
teeth sank into the meat made her shiver. God, she’d had to force
herself not to watch the unorthodox erotic display.

"I wouldn’t know." Her voice sounded guarded
even to her own ears. "I forgot to update you. My mother is
marrying his uncle. We’re going to be ex-kissing cousins in every
sense of the phrase."

"Hmm, still avoiding the subject of the ex.
Why am I not surprised?"

Megan laughed. "Why do I talk to you?"

"I make you feel like you’re not a control
freak without a sense of humor."

"I am not a control freak. I resent the
implication."

"How many times did you dial the private line
and hang up before it rang?"

A zillion. "I have to get ready for
dinner."

Lynne laughed. "And that’s why you love me.
Now go get a social life, so I can have one. I can’t get laid
unless you are happy."

"How is that?"

"Well, when you are like this you call and
obsess and obsess. I can’t function under those circumstances."

"By function, you mean…"

"See, this is what I’m talking about."

Megan laughed. "I’ll call you tomorrow."

Megan tossed the phone on the bed and got
ready for dinner. Instead of heading straight for the dining room,
she snuck into the kitchen, needing an extra few minutes away from
her mother after a grueling afternoon. Jane had already changed
into slacks and a charcoal gray shirt. The "kiss the cook" apron
had faded, but the memory of buying it for Jane was as fresh as the
one of standing over the counter drinking coffee this morning.

Had she been missed? Not that she suspected a
big hometown welcome, but still, her return home had been a
blip. 
Aren’t I contrary?
 Megan brushed the thought
aside when the pungent tang of garlic reached her, followed by
something sweet. The smell thickened the air and made her stomach
tighten from hunger. She moved farther into the room, thinking how
much the kitchen was Jane’s domain. The only room in the house
where Jane’s opinion held weight. Strangely, her mother preferred
to do her own laundry, changing of the bed sheets, the general
cleaning. But when it came to cooking, Nicole didn’t even attempt
to boil water.

Jane flexed her hands in the dough, spreading
it on the smooth cutting table. Then Megan noticed the tin already
filled with pie crust sitting on the island.

"I hear you and your mother went shopping
today."

Megan moved to the sink and turned on the
faucet. She snatched her hands back when the water scalded her
skin. Without looking up, Jane moved the cold dial up. "I figured
since I’m here…"

Jane scoffed. "You can start by spooning the
cherries into the pie crust. It’s the covered pot."

Megan lifted the apron off the hook by the
stove. Before she could think to do it herself, Jane had the tray
filled with pie crust in her hands.

"You remember how to do it?"

How long had it been? Very long, but when the
flimsy tin touched her fingers, "Yes, I remember."

Jane nodded and went back to her own work.
Megan placed the tin on the counter and began filling the crust
with the syrupy fruit. Funny, she hadn’t realized there were some
things she missed about home other than her father. Nostalgic
memories assailed her, of summers spent making sandwiches with cold
cuts, because it had been too hot to turn on the stove. Winters
staying warm over a simmering pot of gravy for a pot roast stew.
She steadied her breathing as the emotions overwhelmed her. Jane
seemed to sense her mood and let the silence thicken like
blackberry molasses. It took another moment longer for the tremble
in her hands to ease.

Concentrating on not overfilling the pie,
Megan answered the unasked question. "I had a good time. I found a
dress that fits the wedding colors and fits me without too many
alterations needed."

"And it doesn’t hurt to be nice until the
house is signed over to you, right?"

The dig didn’t go unnoticed. "Correct,
because it’s hard for me to believe that she’s doing this out of
the kindness of her heart."

"And the end is still more important than the
means."

Maybe she hadn’t been missed. "I don’t
understand how 
I’m
 being condemned when she threw
out her 18-year-old daughter over a man, who it turns out I was
right about."

"We all make mistakes, and we all feel the
regrets of those decisions. It shouldn’t define us—or worse, follow
us to our grave."

True, if that was the only reason she stayed
angry at her mother. Her mother kicking her out had been the one
incident neither woman could bury and hide. From the day her father
died, Nicole had treated her as an annoyance, a pesky little detail
on her to-do list. This woman standing beside her, with her graying
hair, straight back and admonishing tone had been more of a mother
in a day than Nicole had been in the years she raised Megan.

That was why Megan bit her lip as she placed
the spoon back into the pot. She turned to the freezer, where she
was sure she would find the top layer of the pie. It was there,
covered in wax paper. She took a fork from the drawer and got to
work. Her temper cooled at the mundane task, and she was able to
answer Jane.

"She never put me first, or had me in mind
when she made decisions. Why should I trust this change? Why should
I believe that it’s all turned around for the good? You, of all
people, didn’t raise me to give away my trust, but to make the
person earn it."

"What about what I taught you about
forgiveness?"

"You also taught me to never forget." With an
unsteady hand she pressed the edges of the dough with the fork.
Megan’s intent hadn’t been to argue with the only person she felt
cared about her.

"You’re going to mash that pie if you keep
that up."

Megan gazed at her handiwork and agreed. She
blew out a breath and pressed the fork lightly into the dough.
"You’re making two pies. Are we getting guests again?"

"The same. Shep and Aiden come at least three
times a week to eat. I think it has more to do with them being male
and not wanting to cook than with the company." Jane wiped her
hands on her apron. "You can slide that one into the oven."

Megan checked the temperature and then slid
in her pie. Not bad for not doing it in years. Jane handed her the
next pie crust. Megan couldn’t meet her gaze, not yet, not with the
news that she’d be seeing Aiden again so soon. By now, shouldn’t
she be feeling matter of fact about the situation they found
themselves in? For the next twenty-six days they’d be stuck near
each other.

Maybe it wasn’t so hard for him, because he’d
gotten over the shock. He would have expected to see her the moment
he found out his uncle was marrying Nicole. But the news was
practically new to her. She was still having trouble wrapping her
brain around Shep wanting to marry her mother, given Nicole’s track
record. That little nugget gave her pause, because if her mother
still had old-Nicole-like tendencies, Shep wouldn’t have gone out
and bought a diamond the size of a paperweight.

Jane’s words broke her thoughts. "The least
you can do is give her a second chance."

Megan placed the spoon down with care and
turned to Jane. "I am."

"Don’t use that tone with me." Jane placed
her hands on her hips. Megan looked up, hoping for some type of
divine intervention, or at least a lightning bolt to get it all
over with. Nothing. She picked up the spoon and finished filling
the pie. "Going with her to get a dress is a start. You need to
talk to her, figure out… "

"Jane, I love you and I’m sure you know that,
but you need to understand that ship has sailed, got hit by a
massive wave, and sunk faster than the Titanic."

Jane placed a hand on the counter and looked
Megan straight in the eyes. "How do you think Aiden feels?"

Oh, low blow, but a good hit. "The difference
is, I’m not dangling what he loves most in his face to force him to
forgive me." Megan went to the freezer to take out the second top
layer.

"There are more similarities between your
mother and yourself than you’d like to admit."

"Besides height and hair color?" Megan
attempted to joke. This was the one relationship she didn’t need
strained. She opened the oven and slid the pie next to the other
one, which was already starting to golden.

"You’re not going to get the house if you
keep this up."

Megan leaned forward and gripped the edge of
the counter. "How can you say that, when you know how much the
house means to me?"

"That’s how." Jane shook her head. "Thank you
for helping me, but I think I can do the rest." Megan lifted her
chin at the formality. Jane sighed and reached for her hand.
"You’re stubborn, and I can understand you not wanting to kowtow to
what you see as demands. I’m asking you to open your mind, just a
little. You might be surprised."

"Well, it’s starting to feel like a
lecture."

Jane’s stern features softened. "Because it
is." She waved her hand at Megan. "Now get out of my kitchen. I’ve
got some cooking to do."

Chapter 5

Two lectures in one day had to be a record
for Megan. She had an hour to kill before dinner. There wasn’t any
hesitation when she walked out the door, and she fought the urge to
break into a run. The spring air felt cool against her warm skin.
The buzz of bees mixed with the scent of freshly cut grass welcomed
her. Megan took a moment to take it in, and the tightness in her
shoulders loosened almost automatically.

She kept going, past the rock marking where
her one-time pet had been buried, past the bench marking the first
time she’d kissed Aiden. Megan kept going until she reached the
tree at the edge of the lake, where she plopped down and leaned
against the trunk. The bark bit into her back, but it was a
welcomed comfort.

She closed her mind off, not wanting to
rehash the recriminations from either her best friend or her
surrogate mother. They believed her mother had transformed into a
better person and Megan should forgive Nicole for past
transgressions. To her, they might as well have asked a sloth to
move faster. Forgiving Nicole wasn’t going to happen today, and
possibly not in this century.

Megan tried again to clear her thoughts. The
last time she felt this conflicted she’d had acne. She took in
another breath to relax. This time it worked, but once her mind
settled, like whispers in the wind thoughts of Aiden filtered
through. Had he forgiven her? She tried to remember him. He’d been
gangly, closer to geeky than anything else, in junior high.