The Marine's Secret Daughter. Carrie Nichols
still going to a motel.”
She swallowed hard, remembering the last time they’d ended up in a motel room together.
“Why were you cleaning the cottage?” He checked for traffic before easing back onto the road.
“I was repaying a favor.” She shrugged. “I guess karma didn’t get that part of the message.”
“Yeah, good deeds and all that.” He completed the U-turn and sped up. “So you’re living in Loon Lake full-time?”
“Yup, I’m a permanent resident.” Tomorrow, when the worst of the asthma meds were out of her system, would be time enough for the rest of the story. She had her application in with the school system, where she’d done her student teaching. She wouldn’t let Riley’s sexy dimples blind her to her priorities. She had a daughter to raise, a career to start and a life to live.
“Living at your dad’s place makes it convenient.”
“Except it’s not my dad’s place.” She was proud of owning a home and wanted to make sure he knew about it. “It’s mine. I own it.”
“Really?” His eyes widened. “You took the place on by yourself?”
That’s nothing. I lost my mother, nursed my broken heart and had your baby all by myself. “Don’t sound so surprised. In case you hadn’t noticed, I grew up while you were gone.”
He turned toward her, his gaze sweeping over her. “Oh, I noticed. All I’m saying is the winters can be harsh. That alone would create a lot of upkeep.”
“I can handle it... I am handling it.” Okay, so she was going to have to prioritize her projects due to her car dying and the flooding. Homes on the other end of the lake and ones right on the water had it worse, so she considered herself lucky.
“Your dad wasn’t interested in keeping the place for retirement?”
“No, he signed the deed over to Liam and me. I bought my brother out.” She had grabbed the chance to own a home and raise Fiona in a small town noted for its excellent school system. Here, they had a yard where Meg planned to put up a swing set and, as soon as she found an affordable one that didn’t set off her asthma, she’d get Fiona a puppy. “Neither one of them had much interest in the place after Mom died.”
Riley cleared his throat. “I was sorry to hear about your mother’s death. By the time word got to me in the sandbox, it was too late. I wish I could’ve been there for you, Meg.”
“Thanks, but I didn’t expect you.” But that hadn’t prevented her from searching each new face that came through the door.
“How has Mac been doing?”
“He’s doing great. He’s remarried and—”
“Wait. Mac remarried? Wow, I...” He shook his head. “I guess that shows how long I’ve been gone.”
She clenched her jaw. And totally cut us out of your life while you were at it. “You’ve been gone for nearly six years.”
“Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt.” He reached over and squeezed her hand. “Tell me about Mac.”
The calluses were new...and sexy. Oh, God, she needed to stop this. Riley might press all her buttons, but she needed to remember that whiskey on his porch. Needed to remember their chemistry wasn’t enough to bind him to her. She’d tried that and failed. Their one night together bound her to him in the form of their daughter, but he didn’t know that...yet. “As I was saying, a widow moved in next door about two years ago and they hit it off right away. They got married at the end of last year when Dad retired.”
“Mac retired? I thought they’d have to wheel him out of the fire station.” He rubbed his thumb over her knuckles. “Do you like his new wife?”
“I like her very much. Doris is sweet and she’s been a great...” She hesitated.
“Great what?”
“Influence on my dad.” She’d been going to say “grandmother,” but this wasn’t the time or place for that explanation. “Getting him to retire and all.”
Riley squeezed her hand. “Is it hard watching him with someone else?”
“A little at first, but I’m glad he’s happy.”
“What about you, Meggie? Are you happy living here?”
“Yes, I am,” she said and meant it. She’d taken a chance thirteen months ago, uprooting Fiona from Boston to settle in Loon Lake, but they’d made a life for themselves in the quintessential New England town. The wood-covered bridge, pre-Revolutionary War architecture and town green with summer band concerts in the gazebo were the things the tourists saw, but Meg knew firsthand about the caring and kind people who inhabited Loon Lake. Fiercely independent, they never asked for help and yet assisted anyone one who might need it. She still wasn’t sure who to thank for making sure her driveway was plowed after each snowstorm last winter.
Here she could give Fiona community and recreational opportunities that might have been out of reach in Boston. She glanced at Riley, wondering what it would be like to share this life she’d made with him.
She pushed that thought aside, too tired to deal with the enormity of it tonight and the role she and her wounded pride had played in keeping father and daughter apart. She regretted that decision, but it was too late to take it back. All she could do now was hope Fiona didn’t pay the price for her selfishness.
Call me Scarlett, but I’ll worry about that tomorrow.
* * *
Riley stopped his truck in front of Meg’s place, glad she had no idea what he was thinking. Of course, she couldn’t call him any names worse than those he’d called himself during the drive from the hospital. Every time she’d shifted in her seat, he responded, thinking how she’d felt underneath him that night, how no other woman since had made him feel so special.
Nice going, Marine. The woman has a life-threatening asthma attack and all you can think about is jumping her bones.
But then he laughed to himself because that was pretty much the number one objective for a marine on leave.
Meg was white picket fences and family dinners on Sunday, and he was forward operating bases and MREs. She needed someone who was emotionally stable and reliable, not someone chasing an adrenaline rush in the latest battle zone. Putting the truck in Park and killing the engine, he said, “Tell me what you want and I’ll get it.”
“What I want is to stay home. I’ve lived with asthma all my life. I can take care of myself.”
She could fight him all she wanted, but she was staying in the motel tonight if he had to put her over his shoulder. He was keeping her safe at all costs. No more deaths on his watch. Or his conscience. “So why did I find you at the bottom of the stairs, gasping for air?”
“It wasn’t that bad. I was catching my breath before climbing back upstairs.”
“Yeah, well, life sucks. You’re coming with me to the motel. I came here because you said you wanted to get a change of clothes. You can do that or we’ll leave right now.” He hated sounding like such a hard-ass, but he wasn’t taking any chances with Meg’s safety, so he restarted the truck’s engine as a demonstration.
“All right. All right.” She unbuckled her seat belt, filling the cab with that insistent pinging noise. “But I go in and get my own stuff. I don’t want you pawing through my things.”
“Afraid of what I might find hidden in your underwear drawer?” He raised his eyebrows.
“Don’t you have something on your front porch that you need to bring inside?”
“Touché.” Earlier, he’d toyed with the idea of getting acquainted with one of those bottles tonight, but now he wasn’t taking any chances.