A Mother's Wish
Page 19

 Debbie Macomber

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Meg hesitated, separating a piece of the pizza. “I suppose Lindsey called you?”
“Yes, but I was already on my way over here.”
He saw that she avoided his eyes, as she made busy-work of setting two huge slices of pizza on a plate and heating them in the microwave. “After your phone call, I had kind of a panic attack.”
“About?” he prompted.
“You … Us.”
“And?”
“And I worked it out myself. I felt pretty foolish afterward. I realized you aren’t the same kind of man Dave was … is. If you call to say you’re helping another woman, then that’s exactly what you’re doing.”
“You thought I was seeing someone else?” Lindsey had implied as much, but he hadn’t taken it seriously.
“I feel silly now,” she said, setting the sizzling pizza slices in front of him. She propped her elbows on the counter and rested her chin in her palms. “It was as if the craziness of my marriage was back. You see, at one time I tried to believe Dave. He’d make up the most outrageous stories to account for the huge periods of time he was away from home, and like a naive idiot, I’d believe him.” She paused. “I guess because I wanted to. But Dave’s not my problem anymore.”
“A leopard doesn’t change his spots,” Steve said, finishing off the first slice. “If Dave cheated on you, he’ll cheat on his present wife, too. It stands to reason.”
“I know. From what Lindsey said after her last visit to California, Dave’s marriage is on shaky ground. I’m sorry for him and for his wife.”
Steve offered Meg the second slice, which she declined. He’d just taken a bite when the low strains of soulful violin music drifted toward them. Steve glanced at Meg and she shrugged, perplexed.
Lindsey appeared in the kitchen, looking thoroughly disgusted. “You two need my help, don’t you?”
“Help?” Steve repeated. “With what?”
“Romance.” She walked into the room and took Steve’s hand and then her mother’s. She led them both into the living room. The furniture had been pushed to one side and the lights turned down low. Two crystal glasses and a bottle of red wine sat on the coffee table, ready to be put to good use.
“Now, I’ll disappear into my room for a while,” she said, “and you two can do all the things I’ve read about in novels.”
Steve and Meg stared blankly at each other.
“Don’t tell me you need help with that, too!”
“We can take it from here,” Steve was quick to assure her.
“I should hope so,” Lindsey muttered. With an air of superiority she headed up the stairs.
The music was sultry. Inviting. Once Lindsey was out of sight, Steve held his arms open to Meg. “Shall we dance?”
Steve could’ve sworn she blushed, very prettily, too, before she slipped into his embrace. He brought her close and sighed, reveling in the feel of her.
“I’m not very good at dancing,” she murmured.
“Hey, don’t worry. All we have to do is shift our feet a little.” He laid his cheek next to hers.
He’d never had the time or the patience for romance. Or so he’d believed. Then he’d met Meg and his organized, safe, secure world had been turned upside down. Nothing had been the same since, and Steve suspected it never would be again.
Even Gary Wilcox seemed to recognize the difference between Steve’s attitude toward Meg and his attitude to the other women he’d dated over the years. Steve didn’t know how his foreman had figured it out, but he had. Of course, inviting Meg and Lindsey to the shop might have given Gary a clue. The idea of letting Lindsey see him at work had been an excuse; in reality he’d been trying to impress Meg, show her how successful he was. Prove to her that he was worthy of her attention.
Steve had always kept his personal life separate from the business. His personal life—that was a joke. He’d worked for years, dedicating his life to building a thriving business. He’d been successful, but that success had come at a price. There was very little room in his life for love.
But there was room for Meg and Lindsey.
Meg’s lithe body moved with the music provocatively, seductively, against his. He wanted to hold her even tighter, kiss her, caress her …
They stopped moving, the pretense of dancing more than he could sustain. “I want you so badly,” he whispered.
Meg sighed and raised her head so their eyes met in the dim light. “I want you, too. It frightens me how much … “
He ran his fingers up through her hair and held his breath as he slowly lowered his mouth to hers. “Oh, Meg.” He kissed her over and over, unable to get enough of her.
The sound of a throat being cleared suddenly penetrated his brain.
Lindsey. Again.
Steve groaned inwardly. Slowly, reluctantly, he loosened his grip on Meg and eased his body away from hers.
She resisted. “Don’t stop.”
“Lindsey’s back,” he whispered.
Meg buried her face in his sweater.
“Hello, again,” Lindsey said cheerfully from the stairs. “It looks like I returned in the nick of time.” She pranced down the steps, walked over to the wine bottle and sadly shook her head. “You didn’t even open the wine.”
“We didn’t get a chance,” Steve muttered.
“I gave you twenty minutes,” she said. “From what I can see, that was about five minutes longer than I should’ve waited. You’re a fast worker.”
“Lindsey,” Meg said, in what was obviously meant to be her sternest voice. Unfortunately, the effect was more tentative than severe.
“I know I’m making a pest of myself—and I apologize, I really do. But we’ve been talking about this stuff in my sex-ed. class, and there’s a case to be made for abstinence.”
“What’s that got to do with your mother and me?” Steve made the mistake of asking.
“You don’t really want me to answer that, do you?” Lindsey asked. “Mom’s flustered enough as it is.”
“I guess not.”
“We could discuss safe sex, if you want.”
Steve watched in fascination as Meg’s face turned a deep shade of red. “Lindsey!” This time her mother’s voice was loud and clear. “You’re embarrassing me.”
“Sorry, Mom, but I figured we should raise the subject now instead of later.” She dropped down on the sofa, then reached for the wine bottle and examined the label. “It’s a good month, too. September. Brenda’s uncle bought it for us. He said it wasn’t a great wine, but it’d get the job done.”
Steve’s hand gripped Meg’s shoulder. “It was, uh, thoughtful of you.”
“Thanks.” She smiled broadly. “But we were going for the romantic element.”
“Now,” Steve said, “would you mind if your mother and I talked? By ourselves? We didn’t get much of a chance to do that earlier.”
“I suppose that’d be all right—only I need to know something first.” She set the wine bottle down and looked intently at Steve. “Are you going to marry my mother?”
Meg made a small mewling noise that suggested she was mortified beyond words. She sank onto the ottoman and covered her face with both hands.
“Well, are you?” Lindsey pressed, ignoring her mother entirely.
Steve couldn’t very well say he hadn’t been thinking along those lines. There’d been little else on his mind for the past few days. He loved Meg. When he wasn’t with her, it felt as if something was missing from his life. From his heart.
Steve had never imagined himself with a ready-made family, but he couldn’t see himself without Meg and Lindsey. Not now.
“I believe that’s a subject your mother and I need to discuss privately, but since you asked I’ll tell you.”
Lindsey got to her feet and Meg dropped her hands and looked up at him.
“You’re going to marry us, aren’t you.” Lindsey’s words were more statement than question. A satisfied smile lit up her face. “You’re really going to do it.”
“If your mother will have me.”
“She will, trust me,” Lindsey answered, looking gleeful. “I’ve known my mother forever and I’ve never seen her this gaga over a man.”
“I can do my own talking, thank you very much,” Meg said. “This is the most humiliating moment of my life—thanks to you, Lindsey Marie Remington.” She stood, hands on her hips. “Go to your room and we’ll talk when I’ve finished begging Steve to forgive you.”
“What did I do that was so terrible?” Lindsey muttered.
Meg pointed to the stairs.
It looked as though Lindsey was about to argue; apparently she thought better of it. Her shoulders slumped forward and she moved slowly toward the stairs.
“I was just helping,” she said under her breath.
“We’ll talk about that later, young lady.”
Lindsey’s blue eyes met Steve’s as she passed him. “I know I’m in trouble when she calls me young lady. She’s mad. Be careful what you say. Don’t ruin everything now.”
“I’ll try my best,” Steve promised.
Meg waited until her daughter had reached the top of the stairs before she spoke. “I can’t begin to tell you how sorry I am about that.” Although her voice was calm, Steve wasn’t fooled. Meg was angry, just as Lindsey had said.
“I’ll have Lindsey apologize after I’ve had a chance to cool down,” Meg was saying. “I don’t dare speak to her now.” She paced the carpet. “I want you to know I absolve you from everything that was said.”
Steve rubbed his jaw. “Absolve me from what, precisely?”
“I want it understood, here and now, that I don’t expect you to marry me.”
“But I like the idea.”
“I don’t,” she flared. “Not when my daughter practically ordered you to propose. Now,” she said with a deep breath, “I think it might be best if you left.”
Steve tried to protest, but Meg ushered him to the door and he could see that this wasn’t the time to reason with her.
“I’ve never been so mortified in my life,” Meg told Laura. She counted the change and put it in the cash register. The store was due to open in ten minutes and she felt far from ready to deal with customers.
“But he said he wanted to marry you, didn’t he?”
“It was a pity proposal. Good grief, what else could he say?”
Laura restocked the front display with the latest bestsellers. “Steve doesn’t look like the kind of guy who’d propose if he didn’t mean it.”
“He didn’t mean it.”
“What makes you so sure?”
Meg wanted to find a hole, crawl inside and hide for the rest of her natural life. No one seemed to appreciate the extent of her humiliation. Steve certainly hadn’t. He’d tried to conceal it from her, but he’d viewed the incident with Lindsey as one big joke.