Page 11 of Waking Up Married


  Feeling suddenly conspicuous, she glanced down the aisle half expecting to find a crowd of snickering onlookers taking bets on which brand she’d opt for, only, instead her focus caught on a head of short salt-and-pepper curls topping a face she hadn’t seen in the two decades that had weathered it.

  Her breath leaked out of her in a thin, chilled wisp. “Pete.”

  She blinked, stepping forward before she’d even thought to curb the impulse. It couldn’t be him. In all the years, it was never actually him. But this time...she could swear it was.

  Heart pounding, she felt a bubble of laughter rising in her chest. Did she hug him? Shake his hand? Tell him that even now she could feel the way she’d missed him all those years ago.

  He had to live around here. Though, the way he loved to travel, maybe he was just passing through. Either way, she was already reaching for him when he said, “Say, Sprout, whadiya think about chocolate with peanut butter and marshmallows?”

  She stopped, too confused to make sense of the words she was hearing.

  Only, then he glanced over at her and let out a bark of surprised laughter as he took a quick step back.

  “Oh, heck, pardon me, young lady. For a minute I thought you were my daughter.” His eyes crinkled around the edges. “Serves me right, not looking at who I’m talking to.”

  Just then, a heavily pregnant woman rounded the corner rubbing her belly with one hand as she scanned her grocery list. “No marshmallows, Dad, but I’m down with the peanut butter.”

  Pete gave her a nod and reached into the case to grab another carton. He dropped it into his cart and then looked back at Megan expectantly.

  Because she was staring. And he had no idea who she was.

  Of course he didn’t. Though he looked so much the same it hurt her heart to see him, she’d been a little girl the last time he saw her. “Pete, I’m Megan Scott. I mean I was Megan Scott. I got married. It’s Megan Reed now.”

  Heat burned through her cheeks as she realized how much it pleased her to be able to tell him that she’d married. To think that she might be able to introduce him to Connor. They’d get along. She knew they would. It hadn’t really struck her until just that second, but there were actually a number of similarities between them.

  Only, then her racing thoughts ground to a halt and all that excited energy died as the furrow between Pete’s eyes dug deep.

  “Megan...Scott?” He glanced over his shoulder at his daughter, standing a few feet off wearing a pleasant smile on her face, and then snapped his fingers, looking back at Megan. “From the bank over on First?”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  HE’D BEEN LOOKING for a fight, that much Connor could admit. Pulling around the corner to the house, he’d felt the gathering tension through his back and neck, the same kind of jacked pulse he got before walking into a major negotiation. The fact that his system was ramping for conflict in anticipation of seeing his wife only made it worse.

  There hadn’t been any new “tests,” but the emotional distance, the guarded looks and speculation when she thought he wasn’t looking—and hell, sometimes even when she knew he was—had only increased. Something was coming.

  Only, then he’d pulled through the security gate and seen the open garage, Megan’s car parked and her still in the driver’s seat. A quiet alarm began to sound in the back of his mind as he cut the engine and jumped out. All that jacked-up ready-to-go morphed into protective instinct.

  This wasn’t right.

  Rounding the car, he came up to her window and stopped short at the sight of tear-streaked cheeks and a bleak stare. And for the first time since they’d met, he saw something other than how strong Megan was. Beneath all that toughness was something fragile. Something she didn’t show to the world but here and now she couldn’t hide from him.

  His gut knotted hard as the first question slammed through his head.

  Had he done this to her? Pushed her too far? Asked too much? Broken her?

  Heart pounding, he forced himself to knock on the glass instead of ripping the door off its hinges to get to her. Find out what happened, if he was to blame. Make sure Megan wasn’t hurt. Physically.

  She jumped in her seat as he opened the door, her eyes darting around the interior of the car before landing on him. The arms that had been hanging limply in her lap jerked up, and then she was wiping at her cheeks, mumbling some kind of unintelligible apology as she emerged from her daze.

  Resting a staying hand on her shoulder, Connor crouched beside her seat, searching for clues in a face his wife was rapidly trying to clear. Only, with each sweep of her thumbs, another tear slipped free.

  “Megan, what’s going on, honey?”

  She sucked in a shaky breath, swallowed and then bowed her head. “It’s so stupid. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be like this. I just...saw someone I used to know.”

  Connor’s muscles bunched. It wasn’t him, then, making her cry—and the relief he felt over that was immense. But it was nothing compared to the outrage pouring through him that someone else had done this to his wife.

  Someone she used to know.

  “Barry?” The idiot who’d run off and married another woman when he’d been making plans with Megan. The one he’d believed wasn’t important enough to merit this kind of sorrow. Did the guy have some kind of hold over her heart Connor hadn’t realized?

  Was he in California to get Megan back?

  She shook her head, valiantly trying to force a smile to lips that couldn’t bear the weight of it. “No. His name is Pete. And for about a year, a very long time ago, he was my dad.”

  Her dad.

  Connor was at a loss. He knew Megan had been raised by her mother, a serial bride who didn’t have much of a track record when it came to keeping husbands. Megan never talked about any of the guys her mother had married, and he’d gotten the sense they hadn’t been of particular importance in her life. Only, now he was wondering just exactly how off base he’d been.

  “What happened?”

  “He didn’t remember me.” Megan winced and closed her eyes. When she opened them again, she was blinking fast. Giving her head one of those thought-jarring shakes. As though she was physically trying to throw off the emotion. She wanted to be strong. And hell, he admired her for it. But as the tears continued to fall, the heartbreak in her eyes was unmistakable. And damn it, he’d seen that kind of pain before. Knew the kind of soul-deep wound it stemmed from. Feared it.

  The kind where a person’s whole heart was tied up in the hope of something they understood they couldn’t have. The kind another person couldn’t fix or fill or make up for...could only pray they were strong enough to withstand.

  She was strong.

  “Sweetheart, I’m sorry.”

  “It was so long ago. I don’t know how I expected he would remember me, but I was practically ready to throw my arms around—” Her voice broke, and she glanced away.

  Damn. Megan looked so lost and vulnerable, he couldn’t stand it. Needed to do something. Ground her in some way.

  Taking her hand, he stroked a thumb over her knuckles. “Let’s go inside.”

  She nodded and he stepped back, helping her from the car. Her eyes shifted toward the house, and he half expected her to simply draw herself up and walk away. Retreat to a place he couldn’t reach her.

  Only, then she closed her eyes and turned into him, pressing her face against the center of his chest, so there was nothing to do but wrap his arms around her trembling shoulders and hold her close. Stare down in disbelief as Megan clung to him.

  Pulling her in closer, he laid his cheek against the silky strands at the top of her head and stroked a hand over her back.

  “It’s okay, sweetheart. I’ve got you,” he promised, rocked by the depth of meaning behind his words. He wanted to protect her in a way he’d never experienced before. And that she wanted his protection and comfort—could accept it—was profoundly satisfying.

  “I told him my name and he could
n’t place it. I mentioned my mom and the connection clicked. But it was...so awkward.”

  Connor ushered Megan inside and up to their room where they lay in bed together with her head resting in the crook of his arm. They spoke in hushed tones, watching the shadows fill in around them as the light faded and the quiet of night replaced the cacophony of day.

  “They were all good guys,” Megan whispered in response to the question he’d just asked, her breath warming the spot above his heart still damp from her tears. “That was the thing. Mom never picked jerks we could only pray would take off sooner rather than later. They were all nice men we hoped would stay, even though deep down I knew they wouldn’t.”

  “There were seven?”

  “Seven she married.”

  Which meant there were more she hadn’t.

  He couldn’t imagine what it would be like for a little girl to have a revolving door of father figures passing through her life that way, or how her mother could have let it go on. But he knew all about women who couldn’t control their hearts—even for the sake of their children. Even for the sake of themselves. At least Megan’s mother had been resilient enough to bounce back. Move on.

  “When she brought Pete home, I barely even spoke to him. It was terrible, but I think it had only been a couple of months since the one before had left, and I didn’t want to—care, I guess. Only, Pete was sort of relentless. He wanted to win me over—do everything to make this new family work. So he told jokes and stories. Took me fishing. Talked to me and actually listened to what I said. He made me feel...special. Like I was more than just the kid who came with the woman he’d married. Like I was his friend too. Thinking back on it now, though, I wonder if maybe it wasn’t more a case of me being the perfect project for finding common ground with a wife with whom he otherwise didn’t share much.”

  Connor tightened his hold around Megan’s shoulders, giving her whatever time she needed to go on.

  “When he left I thought it would be...different. I thought he might stop back so he could say goodbye to me. Maybe call to tell me he missed me or that he was sorry he had to go. But he didn’t and I figured it was because of my mom’s rule about severing ties. Still, he’d said he loved me, so I kept waiting and hoping. And maybe I never stopped, because when I saw him at the store this afternoon, I was so— Oh, God, Connor, I was such a fool.”

  “No, Megan. Not you.” That she even thought so— Connor silently cursed this Pete and Megan’s mother both for what they’d put her through. For not recognizing the impact their careless actions would have. The guy told Megan he loved her. He made her believe it and then walked away. A little girl whose tender heart had already been bruised time and again.

  And the worst of it—the part that churned in Connor’s gut—was the knowledge that in no small way, he owed Gloria Scott and this string of faithless men a debt of gratitude. If their repeated abuse hadn’t broken her ability to trust in love enough to surrender to it, this woman never would have settled for this partnership he had to offer her. She’d have found someone years ago to love her the way she deserved and they’d be married with a half-dozen kids in tow.

  He might not be able to give her a storybook romance with love everlasting, but he’d make damn sure she had everything else. He’d be constant. The man she could count on. They’d get past this trial, and time would show her. She’d see.

  * * *

  Megan woke on a gasp, her eyes flying wide as she jolted upright. She scanned the empty bed and room around her. Tried to get a hold on the reality that was now, even as the nightmare she’d been fleeing pressed at her mind.

  She’d been running, lost in the kind of fog only the dreamworld could conjure. Searching for Connor, knowing it was a mistake, but unable to stop herself.

  And then he was there. His arms warm around her, his hushed nonsense a confusing comfort at her ear.

  She looked up to ask him what he meant, and it was Pete’s face speaking with Connor’s voice. “Don’t worry, I’m going to win you over.”

  Desperately she looked around and, again finding Connor across the void, called out to him.

  He smiled, the lines at the corners of his eyes etching deeper as she watched. “I don’t remember you.”

  Throwing back the covers, she pushed the nightmare away. Told herself it was just her head processing the mess yesterday had been. Except instead of settling down, the panic she’d experienced in her sleep was on the rise.

  She needed to find Connor. Needed to—

  “Hey, you’re awake.”

  She spun toward the door where he’d come to stop with that same casual arm slung up around the top of the frame. Jeans and a soft T-shirt tempted her with hints of the powerful body hidden beneath. But it was the ever-elusive half smile that held her, making her feel the coming loss deep in the center of her chest.

  She swallowed, watching as Connor’s easy posture went straight and the smile slid away with all the warmth that had been in his eyes.

  His voice was hard when he spoke. “No.”

  “Connor, I’m sorry.” Wringing her hands, she took a tentative step in his direction. “I can’t do this.”

  “Bull,” he fired back, the spark of temper igniting his outrage so completely it was as though the tinder had been set, waiting in place. “You haven’t even tried!”

  “That’s not true. I have. I’ve been trying for a month. But it’s no use. I’m not settling into a life I feel like I can keep. I don’t—” She broke off, shifting her gaze from the accusation in his.

  God, she didn’t want him looking at her that way...she didn’t want to deserve it.

  “You don’t what, Megan? If this is it, then let’s just own it all. Say it.”

  Fists balling at her sides, she fought back the pain rising in her chest and did as he asked. “I don’t trust you.”

  “Of course not. I’ve been honest, up-front and straightforward with you from the word go.” Connor pushed off the wall, raking a savage hand through his hair. “Yeah, I wouldn’t trust me either.”

  Megan watched in despair as he stormed from one end of the room to the other and back, his outrage blasting her like gale-force winds.

  “It’s not you,” she swore. “It’s me.”

  Shooting her a condemning look, he let out a harsh laugh. “Is that so? Not a single thing I could do, huh?”

  “No.” He’d already done too much. Been too perfect. Too perfect to believe he was real.

  Connor crossed his arms and stared down at her. “You never wanted to be convinced. From the start you’ve been looking for any excuse you can find to justify walking away before you had to risk...anything.”

  Her mouth dropped open. It wasn’t true. She just—she—

  She was suddenly angry. Really angry.

  At herself. At Connor. At Pete and her mother and every event that had brought her to this horrible moment.

  “How am I supposed to risk everything on someone who isn’t real!”

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “You don’t react to anything, Connor! You don’t get mad. You don’t get frustrated. No matter what I throw at you, no matter what I say, it’s like all you’re focused on is the goal at the finish line. Secure the wife and nothing else matters. I never see anything but your unflappable calm and easy charm. You’re always so reasonable. Always with the rational approach. The perfect solution to any problem. And it’s impossible to believe, because no one is that perfect, Connor. That’s why I can’t trust you. That’s why I have to leave!”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CONNOR STARED DOWN at his wife, absorbing this final revelation.

  He’d been vowing to give her everything he had, but...nothing would be enough.

  He’d thought there couldn’t be anything worse than the helpless sense of failure and inadequacy that marked the first thirteen years of his life. When no good grade, lost tooth or scored goal was enough to push the heartbreak from his mother’s eyes—
not when every milestone achieved was simply a reminder of the man who was missing them all. When Connor’s dependence—his very existence—hadn’t weighed heavily enough to compete with the bottle of sleeping pills she’d taken to end the pain. But now, to realize he’d simply exchanged one woman with a hurt he couldn’t touch for another with a doubt he couldn’t overcome... Damn it, what was he doing? What kind of messed-up psychosis kept him coming back to this impossible place—when he’d spent his entire adult life actively working to avoid it?

  He should let her go.

  Except then he thought about the desolate look in Megan’s eyes the night before. That instant when he’d been sure she would turn away...but instead she’d clung to him and cried against his chest. Took his comfort. His strength.

  And woke up the next morning ready to run.

  To hell with this.

  “You want to see a reaction, Megan? You want something real?” He stalked slowly toward her, letting the anger pulse off him in waves. “I’m furious. Only, I sure as hell didn’t get this way because my wife took the time to cook me a dinner. In fact, it’s not any of that trivial nonsense you’ve been shoving at me. Because—truth?—on the scale of significance, that stuff doesn’t even register. What has me pushed past the boiling point...what has me really, really upset is learning the woman I thought was so incredibly strong I married her on the spot...is actually a quitter who runs from challenge, a coward too afraid to even try, a liar who makes promises she won’t keep and a cynic too bitter to believe what’s right in front of her face. Is that real enough for you?”

  Megan’s lips parted on a gasp, her eyes blinking time and again, as though she couldn’t quite believe what she’d just seen. What he’d said. Then, barely a whisper, “You’re wrong.”

  Connor shook his head, wishing he were.

  “I don’t think so. But I’ll tell you what I am...mad as hell. At you. Right now. More angry than I’ve ever been at a woman I was in a relationship with. But—and this is the important part, baby, so listen up—I’m not the one ready to leave. I’m the one trying to get you mad enough to fight back. To throw down your gloves, get up in my face and prove me wrong. I want you to stay because what we could have is worth fighting for. And if that’s not real enough, damn it, I want you to stay for this too—” Grabbing her shoulders, he pulled her into a hard, searing kiss.