Dead Man's Bluff (10 page)

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 you 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 dying 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.

Noting
his lack of interest the woman frowned and scooted her chair closer to the
desk. She read over his credit report, her eyes eventually rising to meet his. It
was back to business and it was pure torture waiting for her to say something.
She sighed. “The good news is you don’t have bad credit. The bad news is you
don’t have any credit at all. Mr. Mackenzie, you’ve never applied for any
credit before. No car. No credit cards. No student loans.”

The
urge to smoke returned. He shifted in his chair. “I’ve never needed to apply
for a loan before.”

“Well,
normally, we’d ask for a cosigner. I see here your father is…” she double
checked the name on the paper before she rattled it off. “… Jonathan Mackenzie.
I have to say he is a valued account holder. His signature on the loan
application would definitely …”