“Mmm.”
He kissed her again, pacing himself. “Thank God you dropped in at the office. I don’t know how long it would’ve taken me to come to my senses otherwise.”
“The office?” Meg repeated, breaking away from him. “I was never at your office.”
Seven
“It doesn’t matter if you were at my office or not,” Steve said, kissing Meg again. Slowly. Thoroughly.
She couldn’t manage even a token resistance, although her mind whirled with questions.
She was starved for the taste of him. Starved for his touch. Starved for him. The loneliness had been suffocating. Before she’d met Steve, her life had seemed just fine. Then within a matter of weeks she’d realized how empty everything was without him.
“I’ve missed you so much,” she told him between deep kisses.
“Me, too.”
“You should’ve phoned,” she whispered.
“You, too.”
“I know.”
“I’m crazy about you.”
She was so tempted to throw caution to the wind and make love with this man who excited her so much. Who made her feel alive.
If ever the moment was right it was now, with Lindsey gone until morning.
But …
The questions returned. There’d only been one man in her life, her ex-husband, Lindsey’s father, and by the time they’d divorced Meg had felt like a failure as a wife. Inadequate. Unresponsive.
“Steve … Steve.” Her fingers were in Steve’s hair as his mouth roamed over her throat. “Stop, please.”
He went still, his lips pressed against the hollow of her throat. “You want me to stop? Now?”
“Please … for just a minute. Did you say you thought I’d been to your office?” She wanted that confusion cleared up first.
“It’s what Gary told me.” He raised his head, eyes clouded with passion. “It doesn’t matter—I’m here now. I’ve missed you so much. I can’t believe either of us let this go on so long.”
“But it does matter,” she argued. “Because I wasn’t there.”
Steve shut his eyes and seemed to be fighting something in himself. Finally, he straightened and eased away from her.
“I’m glad you’re here,” she whispered. “I’ve missed you, too. It’s just that before we …” She felt as though her face was on fire. How she wished she was more experienced, more sophisticated. “You know.”
“Make love,” he finished for her.
“Yes … We should come to some sort of understanding. It’s like you said—we should talk first.”
Steve took her by the hand. He led her into the living room and chose the big overstuffed chair that was her favorite.
He sat and, reaching up, pulled her onto his lap. “So let’s talk.”
“Okay,” she said, hating the way her voice trembled.
“First I want to clear something up. You say you didn’t stop by my office this afternoon?”
“No. I was at the store until after six.”
“I didn’t see you there.”
“I was in the back room, processing orders.” Because she was afraid he’d think she was lying in order to save face, she added, “You can check with Laura if you want.”
Steve frowned. “I believe you. Why wouldn’t I?” He studied her. “But that isn’t why you stopped us just now, is it?”
Meg lowered her gaze. “No,” she whispered.
“I didn’t think so. Are you going to tell me?”
“Tell you what?” Steve’s arm went around her waist. It felt good to be this close to him.
“I suspect your reluctance has to do with your marriage.”
“My marriage?”
“It doesn’t take a detective to figure out that your ex-husband hurt you badly.”
“No divorce is easy,” Meg admitted, “but I’m not an emotional cripple, if that’s what you mean.”
“It isn’t.” He drew her even closer and kissed her again. She kissed him back, offering him her heart, her soul, her body …
“I can’t seem to keep my hands off you,” he murmured. “I wanted to talk to you about your marriage. Instead, I’m a second away from ravishing you.”
And she was a second away from letting him.
“It was a friendly divorce,” Meg insisted, returning to the subject he’d introduced. It wasn’t a comfortable one—but it was safer than touching and kissing and where that would lead.
Steve eyed her suspiciously. “How friendly?” he asked.
“We parted amicably. It was a mutual decision.”
“What caused the divorce?”
Meg closed her eyes and sighed. “He had a girlfriend,” she said, trying not to reveal her bitterness. For years she’d kept the feelings of hurt and betrayal buried deep.
In the beginning, that had been for Lindsey’s sake. Later, she was afraid to face the anger for fear of what it would do to her. “Dave didn’t love me anymore,” she said, in an unemotional voice. As if it didn’t matter. As if it had never mattered.
“What about Lindsey? He abandoned her, too?”
“He knew I’d always be there for her, and I will. He lives in California now.”
“What about his commitment to you and his daughter? That wasn’t important to him?”
“I don’t know—you’d need to ask Dave about that.”
“How long did this business with the girlfriend go on before he told you about her?”
“I don’t know,” she said again. She had her suspicions, plenty of them, but none she was willing to discuss with Steve. “I do know that when Dave got around to telling me he wanted a divorce, she was pregnant.”
“In other words, you felt there was nothing you could do but step aside?”
“I had no problem doing that.” Maybe if she’d loved Dave more, she would’ve been willing to fight for him. But by the time Dave told her about Brittany, she wanted out of the marriage. Just plain out.
“So you got divorced.”
“Yes, with no fuss at all. He gave me what I wanted.”
“And what was that?”
“He was willing to let me raise Lindsey.” She shook her head. “It’s not what you’re thinking.”
“And what am I thinking?”
She placed the back of her hand against her forehead and gave him a forlorn look, like the heroine of a silent movie. “That the divorce traumatized me.”
“I wasn’t thinking that at all,” he assured her. “Your marriage had already taken care of that.”
Meg dropped her hand, then raised it again to brush away her tears. How well Steve understood.
“It wasn’t enough that your husband had an affair. When he walked out on you and Lindsey, he made sure you blamed yourself for his infidelity, didn’t he?” She didn’t respond, and he asked her a second time, his voice gentle. “Didn’t he?”
Meg jerked her head away for fear he’d read the truth in her eyes. “It’s over now …. It was all a long time ago.”
“But it isn’t over. If it was, we’d be upstairs making love instead of sitting here talking. You haven’t been able to trust another man since Dave.”
“No,” she whispered, her head lowered.
“Oh, baby,” he said tenderly, gathering her in his arms. “I’m so sorry.”
She blinked rapidly in an effort to forestall more tears. “I trust you,” she told him, and she knew instinctively that Steve would never betray his wife or walk away from his family.
“You do trust me,” he said, “otherwise you wouldn’t have let me get this close to you. Just be warned. I intend to get a whole lot closer, and soon.”
With anyone else Meg would have felt threatened, but with Steve it felt like a promise. A promise she wanted him to fulfill.
“It’s better that we wait to make love,” he surprised her by adding.
“It is?” Her head shot up.
“I want to clear the air with Lindsey first,” he told her. “Get things
settled between us. I’d much rather be her friend than her foe.”
“And I’d like to be Nancy’s friend, too,” Meg said.
He smiled. “Those girls don’t know what they started—or where it’s going to end.”
“Exactly where are we going?” Lindsey asked, staring out the car window.
“I already told you.” Meg was losing patience with her daughter.
“To see Steve at work?”
“Yes.”
“Work release, you mean.”
“Lindsey!” Meg said emphatically. She’d never known her to be this difficult. “Steve has his own business. We both thought if you could see him at work, you’d know that what he told you about being an ex-con was all a farce.”
Lindsey remained sullen for several minutes, then asked, “Why’d he say all those things if they weren’t true?”
Her daughter had a valid point, but they’d gone over this same ground a dozen times. “We wanted you to dislike him.”
Unfortunately Steve’s plan had worked all too well. And Meg had obviously done an equally good job with Nancy, because his sister didn’t want him continuing to see her, either. What a mess they’d created.
“Why wouldn’t you and Steve want me to like him?” Lindsey asked.
“I’ve already explained, and I don’t feel like repeating the story yet again,” Meg said. “Suffice it to say I’m not especially proud of our behavior.”
Lindsey pouted, but didn’t ask any more questions.
Meg pulled into the parking lot at Steve’s business and watched as Lindsey took in everything—the well-established body shop, the customers, the neat surroundings.
There were three large bays all filled with vehicles in various states of disrepair. Men dressed in blue-striped coveralls worked on the cars.
“They all look like they came straight from a prison yard,” Lindsey mumbled under her breath.
“Lindsey,” Meg pleaded, wanting this meeting to go well. “At least give Steve a chance.”
“I did once, and according to you he lied.”
Once more, Meg had no argument. “Just listen to him, okay?”
“All right, but I’m not making any promises.”
The shop smelled of paint and grease; the scents weren’t unpleasant. There was a small waiting area with a coffeepot, paper cups and several outdated magazines.
“Hello,” Meg said to the man standing behind the counter. “I’m Meg Remington. Steve is expecting me.”
The man studied her. “You’re Meg Remington?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“You don’t look like the Meg Remington who was in here last week.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Never mind, Gary,” Steve said, walking out from the office. He smiled warmly when he saw Meg. Lindsey sat in the waiting area, reading a two-year-old issue of Car and Driver as if it contained the answers to life’s questions.
“Hello, Lindsey,” Steve said.
“Hello,” she returned in starched tones.
“Would you and your mother care to come into my office?”
“Will we be safe?”
A hint of a smile cracked Steve’s mouth, but otherwise he didn’t let on that her question had amused him. “I don’t think there’ll be a problem.”
“All right, fine, since you insist.” She set aside the magazine and stood.
Steve ushered them into the spotlessly clean office and gestured at the two chairs on the other side of his desk. “Please, have a seat.”
They did, with Lindsey perched stiffly on the edge of hers.
“Would you like something to drink?” he asked.
“No, thanks.”
Meg didn’t think she’d ever seen Lindsey less friendly. It wasn’t like her to behave like this. Presumably she thought she was protecting her mother.
“I have a confession to make,” Steve said, after an awkward moment. He leaned back in his chair.
“Shouldn’t you be telling this to the police?” Lindsey asked.
“Not this time.” His eyes connected with Meg’s. She tried to tell him how sorry she was, but nothing she’d said had changed Lindsey’s attitude.
“I did something I regret,” Steve continued undaunted. “I lied to you. And as often happens when people lie, it came back to haunt me.”
“I’m afraid I was a party to this falsehood myself,” Meg added.
“How do you know it’s really a lie?” Lindsey demanded of Meg. “Steve could actually be a convicted criminal. He might be sitting behind that desk, but how do we know if what he says is true?”
Meg rolled her eyes.
“Who are you really, Steve Conlan?” Lindsey leaned forward, planting both hands on the edge of his desk.
“I’m exactly who I appear to be. I’m thirty-eight years old. Unmarried. I own this shop and have ten full-time employees.”
“Can you prove it?”
“Of course.”
A knock sounded on the door.
“Come in,” Steve called.
The man who’d greeted her when she first arrived stuck his head inside the door. He smiled apologetically. “Sorry to interrupt, but Sandy Janick’s on the phone.”
Steve frowned. “Are we working on Sandy’s vehicle?” he wanted to know. “I don’t remember seeing a work order.”
“No, she’s that friend your sister was trying to set you up with. Remember?”
“Tell her I’ll call her back,” Steve said without hesitating.
Meg bristled. He’d admitted that his sister had been playing matchmaker. So Nancy had set him up with another woman. Probably one without a troublesome teenager and a bunch of emotional garbage she was dragging around from a previous marriage. Meg tried to swallow the lump forming in her throat.
“Gary,” Steve said, stopping the other man from leaving. “Would you kindly tell Lindsey who owns this shop?”
“Sure,” the other man said with a grin. “Mostly the IRS.”
“I’m serious,” Steve said impatiently.
Gary chuckled. “Last I heard it was Walter Milton at Key Bank. Oops, there goes the phone again.” He was gone an instant later.
“Walter Milton,” Lindsey said skeptically. “So you really don’t own this business.”
“Walter Milton’s my banker and a good friend.”
“So is Earl Markham, your parole officer,” Lindsey snapped. “A high school friend, correct?” She shook her head. “I’m afraid I can’t believe you, Mr. Conlan. If you were trying to get me to change my mind about you seeing my mother, it didn’t work.” Then turning to Meg, she said, “I wouldn’t trust him if I were you. He’s got a look about him ….”
“What look?” Meg and Steve asked simultaneously.
“You know—a criminal look. I’m sure I’ve seen his face before, and my guess is that it was in some post office.”
Meg ground her teeth with frustration. “Lindsey, would you please stop being so difficult?”
“I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to date a man who lies.”
“You’re right,” Steve surprised them both by saying. “I should never have made up that ridiculous story about being a felon. I’ve learned my lesson and I won’t pull that stunt again. All I’m asking is that you give me a second chance to prove myself.”
“I don’t think so.”
Meg resisted throwing her arms in the air.
“You know what really bothers me?” Lindsey went on. “That you’d involve my mother in this stupid scam of yours. That’s really low.”
“I don’t blame you for being angry with me,” Steve said, before Meg could respond. “But don’t be upset with your mother—it was my idea, not hers.”
“My mother wouldn’t stoop to anything that underhanded on her own.”
Meg’s eyes met Steve’s and she wanted to weep with frustration.
“I was hoping you’d find it in your heart to forgive me,” Steve said contritely, returning his attention t
o Lindsey. “I’d like us to be friends.”
“Even if we were, that doesn’t mean I approve of you seeing my mother.”
“Lindsey,” Meg began. “I—”
“Mom, we can’t trust this guy,” Lindsey interrupted. “We know how willing he is to lie. And what about that phone call just now?” She pointed at Steve. “Another woman calls and he can hardly wait to get back to her. You saw the expression on his face.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Steve snapped. “I’m crazy about your mother. I wouldn’t hurt her for the world.”
“Yeah, whatever. That’s what they all say.” Lindsey had perfected the world-weary tone so beloved of teenagers everywhere.
“I’ve had enough, Lindsey,” Meg said sternly. “I think you’d better go wait in the car.”
Lindsey leapt eagerly out of her chair and rushed from the office, leaving Steve and Meg alone.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, standing.
“I’ll try to talk to her again.” Steve walked around the desk and pulled her into his arms. “All she needs is a little time. Eventually she’ll learn to trust me.” He raised her hand to his mouth and kissed the knuckles. “But one thing’s for sure ….”
“What’s that?”
“I’m through with sneaking around meeting you. I’m taking you to dinner tonight and I’m coming to the front door. Lindsey will just have to accept that we’re dating. In fact, I’ll ask her if she’d like to join us.”
“She won’t,” Meg said with certainty.
“I’m still going to ask. She may not like me now, but in time I’ll win her heart, just the way I intend to win her mother’s.”
What Steve didn’t seem to understand was that he’d already won hers.
At seven that night, Meg was humming softly to herself and dabbing perfume on her wrists. Steve was due any minute.
The telephone rang, but Meg didn’t bother to answer. There was no point. The call was almost guaranteed to be for Lindsey. She heard the girl racing at breakneck speed for the phone, as if reaching it before the second ring was some kind of personal goal.
“Mom!” Lindsey screeched from the kitchen downstairs, reaching her in the master bath.
“I’ll be right there,” she called back, checking her reflection in the bathroom mirror one last time.