Trinity Falls (9 page)

Megan joined him at the table. She offered him one of the bowls of stew before setting hers on the table and taking her seat.

Ean sampled the dish. “Delicious.”

Megan's smile mesmerized him. “Thank you.”

They ate in companionable silence for a while before Megan spoke. “My grandparents liked you, so you know you're always welcome here. But why are you here?” Her voice was light and teasing, further putting him at ease.

Ean inhaled the warm, savory scents wafting up to him from his soup bowl. “When I first saw you and Quincy enter the restaurant last night, it never occurred to me that the two of you might be on a date.”

“That's flattering.”

Ean winced at her dry tone. “I'm sorry. That didn't come out right.”

“Then try again.”

Ean took a moment to collect his thoughts. “The evening with Ramona wasn't going well. I thought inviting you and Quincy to join us would distract Ramona.”

“I don't think that worked out for you.”

“Not as well as I'd hoped.”

“I can't blame a man for trying.” Megan seemed unaware of his discomfort. She continued eating her chicken stew.

Ean's eyes moved over Megan's delicate features, her wide chocolate eyes, high cheekbones, long, elegant nose and stubborn pointed chin. The realization that he could watch her all afternoon filled him with a strange restlessness.

“Have you and Quincy ever dated?”

Megan paused. “Why are you asking?”

He shrugged with more nonchalance than he felt. “Curiosity.”

“Some would call it nosiness.”

A reluctant grin tugged at his lips. “OK. Nosiness. But the two of you would make a good couple.” The words didn't come easily. “You're both even tempered. You share similar interests, and you're both intellectually curious.”

Megan tilted her head. “You make us sound like brother and sister.”

“That's not what I meant.” Was he doomed to insert his foot into his mouth each time he spoke with her? Little Megan McCloud had grown into an intimidating woman.

“Would you like to try again?” Megan's calm, steady gaze made Ean feel like an insecure teenager.

He took a deep breath and tried again. “I meant you'd make a good couple because you're similar.”

“Yes, like brother and sister. Like you and Ramona.” Megan sipped her iced tea.

Ean's brows knitted. “You think Ramona and I are like brother and sister?”

“Especially in high school.” She continued eating her stew as though she hadn't just blown his mind.

“How?”

“You had similar interests. You both enjoyed the limelight. You were both popular. And you both defined success as shaking Trinity Falls's dust from your sneakers.”

“We had similar goals. That doesn't mean we were like brother and sister—”

She interrupted him. “You were each other's mirror. You didn't challenge each other. You were more like group think.”

Ean sat back in his chair. The remainder of his chicken stew cooled in front of him. “Does Quincy challenge you?”

Megan swallowed a spoonful of stew while her big brown eyes seemed to read his thoughts. “Why don't you ask me what's really on your mind?”

He was reluctant to accept her invitation. Instead, he searched for a less incriminating question. “Did you know that Quincy's in love with Ramona and has been since high school?”

Megan's expression told him she knew that wasn't what he'd wanted to ask her. She stood, carrying her bowl to the sink. “I've had my suspicions.”

Ean followed her with his own bowl. “Am I the only one who didn't know?”

“You've only been back in Trinity Falls for a month. Don't be so hard on yourself.” Megan scraped the remains of her lunch into the garbage disposal before turning to take his nearly empty bowl.

“How do you feel about Quincy being in love with Ramona?”

Megan hesitated before stacking their dishes into the dishwasher. “What are you asking?”

“I'd think it would be hard if a guy you liked fell in love with your cousin.”

The air drained from the room and Megan's lungs. Was he kidding? She straightened from the dishwasher, struggling to draw her next breath. “I'm sure it would be, if I were interested in Quincy romantically.”

“Are you dating anyone?”

“Not at the moment.”

“Why not?”

Megan turned to face Ean. “You sound like my grandmother. She'd always ask me, ‘Meg, when are you going to find a nice young man?' And I'd say, ‘Gran, they don't make them like Gramps anymore. '”

She still believed that. Her grandparents had been friends and lovers, as well as business partners. They each were everything the other had needed. That's the kind of relationship she was holding out for. The type of relationship she believed she could have with Ean, if only . . .

“I'm surprised there aren't at least a couple of guys trying to get your attention.”

Megan maneuvered around Ean to continue clearing the kitchen table. She carried the plate of cracker crumbs and their drink glasses to the sink. “Is that because of your experience with guys breaking down my grandparents' front door in junior high school and high school?”

Ean stepped out of her way to allow Megan access to the sink. “It's more about the person you've become. You're successful, which is appealing. You're smart, which is very sexy, and you're—”

“Stop right there.” Megan held her palm out. “If you're going to complete the terrible three, I don't want to hear it.”

Ean frowned. “What ‘terrible three'?”

Megan held up a finger for each feature. “Successful, smart and a good personality. Whenever a friend or neighbor wants to set you up with someone who meets those qualifications, it usually means he has some sort of fatal flaw, like a horse laugh or poor grooming habits.”

“I wasn't going to say that you have a good personality.”

Megan turned from the sink and settled her hands on her hips. “Why not?”

“You're too bossy.”

Megan's jaw dropped. “No, I'm not.”

“And too confident. You border on arrogant. Men find that intimidating.”

Megan arched a brow. “Maybe weak men.”

He stepped in closer, giving her a slow, sexy smile. “I've never considered myself weak, and you've had me shaking in my shoes since I came back.”

His voice was too low, casting a spell on her. Megan could smell him—soap and musk. His scent made her stomach muscles quiver. His warmth wrapped around her. Megan gripped the counter behind her to keep from swaying into him.

Who's shaking now?

CHAPTER 12

“Maybe you're not as strong as you think.” Megan cleared her throat.

It was hard to concentrate with Ean's body so close to hers.
Step back
, her mind shouted at him. Her eyes widened as he drew even closer instead. It was as though he'd read her mind and chose to defy her.

Ean lowered his head. “Maybe you're stronger.”

She'd have to disagree. Right now, with Ean's body heat slipping into her clothes, she had as much strength as a newborn baby. Her body was so limp, she was in danger of melting into the ground.

“You don't need to stand this close to hear me.” What happened to her voice? She could barely hear herself.

But she could hear her heart, slamming against her chest. Hear the warnings, screaming in her head.
Run before you do something stupid like kiss him back if he kisses you.

“But I need to stand this close to taste you.” The intensity in his olive gaze pinned her. His rough voice made her body ache.

Megan's breath left her in a gasp. She opened her mouth to speak, and Ean sealed her lips with his.

The man knew how to work his tongue. He slid into her mouth and explored every inch of that erogenous zone. Megan's pulse beat fast and hard. The combination of his smell, his touch, his taste, made her mind spin. He stroked the sides of her mouth, teased her tongue. He tasted wonderful. He felt great. She wanted more.

Ean wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer. Megan moaned as he pressed his chest to her breasts. Her nipples tightened. An urgency grew in her. Ean's big hands traced her back. He traveled the curve of her waist to her hips, then cupped her derriere. Her core burned hotter. Megan's hips jerked against him.

Ean deepened their kiss. He drew her even tighter against him. She felt the throbbing between his legs against her. It echoed her pulse. His right hand followed her curves back up to her left breast. His big hand gently squeezed its weight. The tip of his finger traced the nipple, circling it until Megan wanted to cry from the sensations tightening inside her body.

Her breath drained from her lungs. Was she having an out-of-body experience? She wanted more. She needed more. She had to . . .

. . . pull back. Megan bit her lower lip.

Ean's unfocused gaze found hers. “What is it?”

Megan's pulse still raced. Her body throbbed in places with an intensity it never had before. She took a deep breath, then another. “Ramona.”

Ean's breathing was still ragged. “She broke up with me. Remember?”

“I don't want to be your rebound romance.”

Ean expelled a rough sigh. “It was six years ago. I've rebounded.”

Megan examined his dark, chiseled features—his irritated olive eyes, his thickly knitted brows and his full, sensuous lips, which had once again pulled her hidden desires to the surface.

“I had a crush on you in junior high school.” Why had she blurted that out? What had she been thinking?

“Really?” Ean's eyes twinkled and his sexy smile stretched his lips.

Megan circled him to put distance between them. “If you didn't return for Ramona, then why did you come back to Trinity Falls?”

Ean held her gaze for several silent seconds before turning his broad back to her. Her eyes traced his wide shoulders, then lowered to his tight buttocks. She should have removed his shirt when she'd had the chance.

Ean dragged his right hand over his close-cropped, tight curls. “Something happened to me after my father died. My job, the firm, New York didn't hold any interest for me anymore. I felt disconnected.”

All thoughts of stripping off his shirt vanished from Megan's mind. Empathy replaced lust. “That's part of your grieving process. Give yourself some time.”

He turned to her. “It's been almost a year.”

“It takes as long as it takes.”

“It's not about time. I need answers, Megan.”

Her heart clenched at the pain in his voice. “To what?”

Ean paced the length of her kitchen, past the table and back. The hurt in his voice hinted at the torment in his eyes. “Why didn't my mother call me as soon as my parents found out my father had cancer?”

Megan didn't want to betray a friend. At the same time, she didn't want her friend to be blamed for something that wasn't her idea.

She wandered to her blond wood table and lowered herself into the closest chair. “Your father didn't want her to.”

His shock slammed into her from across the room like a body blow. “How do you know that?”

Megan looked up at him. Ean was so still. “It's the only thing that makes sense. Your mother would have told you about your father's illness—unless he specifically asked her not to.”

He started his uneasy pacing again. “You're speculating. When I asked her why she hadn't told me about Dad's cancer right away, she said there wasn't anything I could do but worry.”

Megan tilted her head. “Doesn't that sound more like something your father would say?”

Ean stopped, staring at the faux-stone flooring. “Why wouldn't she just tell me Dad didn't want me to know?”

“Doreen wouldn't want you to be angry with your father, but I don't want you to be angry with her.”

“It doesn't matter that he didn't want me to know. If the situation had been reversed, I would've told her.”

Megan's voice softened. “You don't know that. Until you've walked in her shoes, you don't know what you would have done. And I hope you never find out.”

Ean turned away. Silence stretched between them. Megan considered his back. What could she do to ease the tightness in those broad shoulders? She wanted to touch him, but would he rather have some space?

He rubbed the back of his neck. “What do I do now?”

“Talk with her. As you said, this is all just speculation. If you confront her with it, she won't lie to you.”

Ean faced her. “It won't be easy. The last time we talked about Dad, it didn't go well.”

“You said you came back for answers. This is your chance.”

Ean nodded, staring into the middle distance. A soul-deep sigh lifted his chest. He exhaled before pinning her with his olive gaze. “What about us?”

Her heart tripped, then continued a steady beat. “We'll talk after you speak with Doreen.”

The next day, Ean slowed to a walk when he reached his mother's house at the end of his morning run. He strode to the corner as part of his cooldown. Megan hadn't been on the jogging trail this morning. Was she avoiding him?

“Ean, how was your run?”

He looked up at Ms. Helen's house. She'd stepped out onto her porch. The older woman was nearly lost in the oversized purple winter coat. Whose coat was it?

“It was fine, thank you, Ms. Helen. How's your magazine?” Ean crossed the street. He nodded toward the women's magazine she held against her chest.

“I just got to the column on personal revelations. This young actress is talking about her big reveal.”

“Sounds interesting.” Ean glanced at Ms. Helen's sesquicentennial banner.

“When are you going to have your big reveal, Ean?” Ms. Helen held the door open so he could join her inside.

“Excuse me?” He shed his jogging shoes before crossing her threshold.

Ms. Helen smoothed her graying hair back toward the thick bun at the nape of her thin neck. “Now, I don't mean to pry into other folks' business.”

It was a struggle not to laugh. “I know, Ms. Helen.”

“But you've been back more than a month now. When are you going to start looking for work, son? I know you didn't come home to live off your mama.”

Ean smiled at her chastising tone. “That's not my intention at all.”

“I knew that. Your parents brought you up right.” Ms. Helen nodded as though satisfied that he'd confirmed her opinion of him. “So what are you going to do, young man?”

Ean had been wondering the same thing. “That's what I'm trying to figure out, Ms. Helen.”

Her frown deepened the wrinkles across her brow. “What's there to think about? You've got to find a job. And you should find another place to live, too. Your mother has needs, and having a grown son living at home with her probably isn't helping her to meet those needs, if you get my meaning.”

Ean's gaze dropped to the publication in Ms. Helen's hands. What was in that magazine? “I'm trying to decide where to apply for work.”

Ms. Helen grunted. She settled into the teakwood chair in front of her window. “Seems to me you would've given some thought to that before you came home.” Her tone was dry enough to start a campfire.

“I did, ma'am. But to tell you the truth, my priority was coming home. I knew I'd figure out everything else later.”

“Later is now, Ean. What have you figured out?”

Not much. In fact, he had more questions now than before he'd come home. “A lot of the bigger companies that would have law departments are headquartered farther away than I'd want to drive.”

She snorted. “The way I've heard it, people in New York are used to traveling long distances to work.”

Ms. Helen had always had a way of dismissing excuses.

He nodded. “That's true.”

“Besides, what makes you think you'd have to travel?”

“There aren't any law firms in Trinity Falls.”

“So what?” Ms. Helen kissed her teeth. “Does that mean people in Trinity Falls don't need lawyers? There are businesspeople here who have contracts you can charge them to read. People need wills. Are we supposed to drive into the city just to pay you to write them for us?”

“You shouldn't have to.” The lightbulb was flickering on. He was an idiot for not realizing it sooner.

“You don't have to work for someone. So there aren't any law firms in Trinity Falls. Start one yourself. And we'd trust you to do a good job for us and not rip us off.”

“Ms. Helen, you're a genius.”

She sucked her teeth again. “Tell me something I don't know.”

Her voice was gruff, but Ean saw the blush of pleasure on her thin cheeks.

He rose from the chair. “Thanks for your help, Ms. Helen.”

“You're welcome, baby. But don't forget, you've got to move out of your mama's house. Get your own place—the sooner, the better. I don't mean to embarrass you, but a woman has needs.”

Ean waved as he let himself out of her house, then put his shoes back on. He didn't want her to embarrass him, either. Ms. Helen meant well, but he didn't want to discuss his mother's needs. A conversation like that would scar him for life.