Meg's Moment (21 page)

The look on Mrs. Everett’s face was priceless, a delicious blend of shock, horror and disbelief.

“Who is that man and why is he kissing you? Oh
,
my God! I’m calling your
m
other. And don’t think I won’t tell Ted.” Megan could’ve cared less.

“You might want to take notes here, Mrs. Everett,” Megan said, realizing Jack’s hands were still wrapped around her from behind. “His name is Jack and I’m using him for sex. Mind blowing, earth shattering, hot, steamy, wild, monkey sex.” Mrs. Everett’s eyes were tiny, little slits as she glared at Megan. “And I’d suggest you find yourself a Jack, and do the same. It’s very liberating.” Megan threw her hands out and looked up at the night’s sky. “I feel great. Just like a new woman.” When she looked back down Mrs. Everett was stalking across the yard, no doubt heading inside for a gossip telethon.

After she was gone and her porch light curtly extinguished Megan stood deathly still, Jack’s arms still encasing her, trying to process the consequences of what she’d just done. She’d acted purely on impulse, agitated with Mrs. Everett and everyone else. Everyone knew every little thing she did, and most of the time they added to and embellished their stories until they had something worth telling
,
and when Megan would defend herself the gossip was considered truth as if it were the Bible. She wanted to lash out and make a statement and she had. Problem was, what kind of statement had she made to Jack?

And where on earth did he learn to kiss like that? Good God, he had magical lips. Lips that could probably perform much more magic on her. If only he wasn’t a criminal. Her image of him behind bars was starting to fade, with lips like that conjugal visits could be a possibility. Then he’d bitten her lip. Just a playful little nibble actually, but she’d never experienced that kind of pleasure from a kiss before and she wondered what else this man knew. If he wasn’t a lowlife she’d be inclined to find out. Plus, Tom had asked her to dinner and he probably knew a few tricks as well and he wasn’t a lowlife.

“Jack,” she whispered and heard a vague “hmm?” from him. “I’m so sorry about that. I got caught up in the moment and that…that woman has made my life a living hell for the last ten years and I just…” She stopped, realizing she was babbling and that his arms still held her. She stepped away and gathered some of the boxes they’d put together. He also picked up two boxes and she had just gestured him inside when Ali came to the porch carrying the phone, “Meg, your
m
om’s on the phone and she’s…well she’s quoting the Bible and talking about the fires of hell.” Megan took the phone, clicked the off button
,
and walked in the house with Jack a step behind her. She should be packing her things, she thought
.
Moving was looking better and better. By the time her mother got a hold of her even Jesus wouldn’t be able to save her.

Jack sat at the kitchen table waiting for Megan. She’d asked him to have a seat, offered him a beer
,
and told him she’d be right back. As he sat there he thought about her and that kiss. God, he’d waited fourteen years for that kiss and it’d been worth every long, miserable second. Her mouth tasted like heaven and beer. Mostly heaven, though he thought as he remembered the shyness of her tongue as she explored his mouth until her moist lips finally parted and the kiss deepened to the level of hysteria. She drank him in hungrily, passionately, desperately, and as he responded she leaned her body into his and it was all he could do to remain standing. He wanted to throw her down in the grass and take her body beneath his and kiss her thoroughly, starting with those magnificent lips and not stopping until he’d bathed every inch of her body.

He recalled the dreamy look on her face as she broke the kiss and searched his eyes. Her lips were swollen from the kiss, her hair mussed from his hands, her body on fire beneath his arms. But it was her eyes that had given her away. He’d seen that erotic glaze in her crystal blue eyes, their lids half closed. The look that said she’d felt the same thing he had. The unquenchable desire, that connection between them.

The kiss may have been strictly for show, but it stung her too. He knew that not only by that look, but by the way she paused and searched his face and allowed herself to relish in the pleasure before turning to that nosy old woman. Yep, it’d taken him fourteen years to get that kiss and it was better than he ever dreamed it would be. And it also confirmed what he’d always known, that one kiss would never be enough.

“So, the reason I asked you over is because I want to offer you a job.” Megan had joined Jack at the kitchen table, sitting directly across from him, her gaze focused on his hands peeling the label of his beer bottle which appeared to still contain most of its contents. Hers on the other hand
,
was empty.

“Okay,” he said carefully, following her gaze to the bottle.

“As you’ve probably figured out, I’m going to divorce Ted. His belongings are being packed as we speak. Come Monday morning I’m getting an attorney and that’ll be that.”

He nodded, and when she didn’t continue he said, “So what do you want me to do?” She went to the refrigerator and pulled out another beer then took her seat again. Jack twisted the cap of the bottle and placed it front of her.

“Thank you,” she took a long pull from the bottle then continued, “Well, first I want to say that I’m not the person you’ve seen the last couple days.” Finally she met his gaze. “The real Megan is this predictable, boring good girl, who lives a simple little life, and never strays out of the ordinary. That person would never snoop around in buildings at night, or drink whiskey, or kiss strangers on the front lawn, or disrespect old women.” He nodded again and said nothing because he had no idea where she was going with any of this. “See
,
I’ve lived by this set of rules my entire life
;
you know, behave, be quiet, do my part for society, make my mother happy. Problem is, I found out that living that way doesn’t make me happy,” she paused for another drink. “So, I’ve decided to do something about it.”

“Divorcing Ted,” he said and she nodded then said, “Yeah, but that’s not all. See
,
I want revenge. I want to do something so unlike myself, so…crazy, so exciting, so…freeing. Something that says, I’m Megan Malone and this is my moment. Everybody else back off and stay the hell out of my way.”

Jack was unsure where she was going with this but he listened intently and let her speak. “I want to embrace life, so to speak,” she finished, giving him that crooked smile and for the first time since high school that sparkle in her eyes was back. She wanted to take a stand, enjoy life.

He could help her do that, especially if it had to do with getting another of those kisses that made his head spin and his knees go weak. “So how can I help you, Megan?” She looked at his hands again, as her scrubbed clean cheeks took on a pink blush and she smiled weakly.

“Well, see
,
when I was in high school I was this prim and proper shy girl that no one really noticed-” He couldn’t hide the surprise in his face at the statement. It was so far from the truth. “-and when all of my friends were making out under the bleachers or going to parties I was at home reading or going to Sunday School or doing whatever my
m
other said the proper girls did. I’d never even had a beer until I was twenty one years old.” She laughed. “My whole life has been a rip. I met Ted,
The All American Boy, when I was seventeen and married him at twenty, wearing a white dress because I’d earned it.” He took his first sip of his beer then and tried to hide his surprise. Being a good girl was one thing, but remaining a virgin until she was twenty was... “Anyway, we bought this house and I kept waiting for the fairytale to begin, but now it’s ten years later and I’m still waiting. So I’ve decided the wait is over. I want to have some fun. It’s my turn, wouldn’t you say?” He nodded.

He spread his hands out on the wooden table and asked again, “And how can I help you with this?” He noticed that she was wringing her hands together and keeping her gaze in her lap. She was nervous. She looked like she was still in high school. He wrapped both hands around his beer to keep from touching her, but it took tremendous restraint. He wanted her bad.

“O
K
,” she said finally, meeting his gaze. “I don’t want you to get the wrong idea here, like I’m trying to relive high school or anything, but here’s what I want.” She though
t
about Josie’s black book and how much fun she probably had filling the pages. “I want you to help me locate some of the guys I went to high school with. You know
,
the ones that all the girls wanted, the ones who had meaningless hot sex in the back seat of their dad’s chargers, then never gave those girls the time of day the next day. The Casanovas I guess you could say.”

Jack hadn’t realized how hard he’d been holding on to that beer
.
H
is knuckles were white and the muscles in his forearms were sticking out. He let go of the beer and it spilled all over his lap and it was a good thing but the sudden chill served as a well needed diversion from the anger and pain he felt spread through his chest. She wanted him to help her get laid? She had to be going somewhere else with all of this. He took a deep, steadying breath and tried to think of what to say, but instead he heard, “So you want me to help you get laid?” pop out of his mouth in a deep harsh voice. His words or his tone must have surprised her because she startled and stared at him through wide, blue eyes, acting as if he’d just socked her in the jaw.

“Well…, um I didn’t exactly say it like that. I mean that sounds so…so harsh.”

He tried an apologetic look but failed miserably. “But that is what you want right? You want me to find these guys and say ‘Hey, remember this girl from high school? She wants to get naked and fuck your brains out in the backseat of a Charger. Would you like to make an appointment with her to do the nasty?’” He hadn’t meant to use that sort of language or the angry tone, but dammit he was mad. She flinched at his use of the f-word and shrank back a little in her chair. He regretted it instantly, but there was little he could do about it and for some reason he just wasn’t in an apologetic mood. “I think you’d better take a better look at my job description. I’m a Private Investigator. Not a Pimp.” Her eyes began to water and he kicked himself for making her cry. “And I’m not interested in the job. Have a good night Mrs. Malone.” He stood to leave but she pinned him in place with angry tearful eyes. She was even beautiful when she cried he noted, but she could cry herself a river and he’d just swim right on out the door. And out of her life.

She stood
,
to
o,
and pointed a shaky finger at his chest
.
“You say it like I’m a whore. Some two bit floozy on a street corner. Well, I
’m
not. I just want one night, one amazing night.” Her voice rose and she took a step closer, cornering him against the counter
.
“After ten years of being a loving, supportive, faithful wife, then being traded in for a younger model with a bigger rack, I think I deserve a little fun. Is one night of meaningless animal sex too damn much to ask for?” He stared at her with an angry incredulous look. She couldn’t be serious. She called a private investigator, to help her find a worthy pity screw. Or revenge screw or whatever she wanted to call it. It was absurd. The whole damn idea was ridiculous.

“Maybe you should call your friend Tom. He seemed interested. I bet he’d be happy to screw you.”

“I don’t want Tom. I mean, I am interested in him and he asked me to dinner but…” her tears began faster and she fiercely wiped at her eyes. “It’s just that I’m not sure I’m very good at that sort of thing. Sex, that is.” Jack looked at her as if she’d just told him she had a vicious case of Rabies. “What I mean is I’ve only ever been with Ted and when I read in Josie’s book how lousy he was in bed I thought
,
well
,
I must suck too. I mean, sure I’ve had sex but only with the same man for ten years and I knew nothing when we started
.
S
o if I learned from him and he’s so bad, then I’m probably even worse. After one night with me Tom
,
or any other man for that matter
,
would probably run for the hills or suddenly decide to be gay.” Jack said nothing because he couldn’t believe the bullshit that was spewing from her mouth. He’d rather acquire a fatal case of Athlete’s Foot on his crotch than listen to this. But she was serious and she was crying harder, genuinely distraught by this. He pushed his way past her and put his hand on the door knob. He wanted to touch her, to take her in his arms and say anything to make her stop crying. Or to make love to her in the back seat of a charger until she screamed so loud the windows shattered. But he would do nothing except get the hell out of there and drink her off his mind. Forever. His heart couldn’t take this.

“Goodnight Mrs. Malone,” he said before opening the door.

She put her hand on the door trying to stop him “Please Jack?” She pleaded with those angelic eyes and he averted his to his boots. “I just want you to find them, find out if th
ey’re
single, if they still live here. I don’t want you to do anything else. I just want to feel like one of the special girls. The ones who got all the dates, the ones the boys noticed.” He froze, too numb to move. If he’d left before that last comment he would have been fine. He was angry, heartbroken, frustrated
,
and pissed as hell. He’d have been able to slam the door and stay that way. But when she’d said she just wanted to feel like those girls, to be noticed, his head shut down. He couldn’t sort through the mix of emotions spiraling through him and he didn’t want to. Pissed off was good. Angry was good. He could handle those and they’d keep his head on straight so he’d stay the hell away from Megan. But he knew there was more and that he’d spend a great deal of time trying to sort through them, obsessing over them. One thing was sure. He had to get out of there. Soon, before he said or did something stupid.