Can't Help Falling in Love
Page 49

Sophie pulled a booklet out of her purse. “I finished putting this together. It’s the proof copy before they send the final order to the printer.”
Megan read the title aloud. “The Greatest Love Stories of All Time: An Annotated Bibliography. Now available at your local library. Compiled and edited by Sophie Sullivan.” She grinned at her friend. “This is fantastic. Congratulations.”
“Thanks.” Sophie made an unexpected face. “I’m really pleased with it, although I feel like the title is a little misleading.”
“Why?”
“Not all of these stories have a happy ending. Of course, it doesn’t make them any less compelling.”
“Just more real,” Megan said softly.
Sophie slipped the book back into her bag. “You must miss him.”
This time, Megan couldn’t stop her eyes from going big. Oh God, Sophie knew about Gabe! She opened her mouth to say something, to try to get Sophie to understand that she wasn’t trying to hurt her brother, but before she could find any words that made sense, her friend was saying, “I wish I had gotten to meet your husband.”
Relief knocked through Megan so quickly she actually slumped back in her seat.
But Sophie misread her reaction. “I’m sorry. I should know better than to bring him up. After all, my mother never loved anyone but my father.”
Megan frowned. “Didn’t your father pass away when you were a child?”
Sophie nodded. “I was two.”
Megan quickly did the math. More than two decades. That was a long time to be alone. Too long, especially since the last of Mary Sullivan’s kids had grown up and moved out a good five years ago.
“Surely your mother has dated, right?”
“She’s dated a few men over the years. Some of them were really nice.” Sophie shrugged. “But I honestly don’t think she ever let herself get too close to any of them.”
“Why do you think that is? Would your father not have wanted her to find love again?”
“I don’t know,” Sophie said softly. “But from the way Marcus and Smith talk about him, I don’t think he was that kind of man.” Her friend looked up at her with an expression so similar to Gabe’s that Megan almost dropped her fork. “I think she was afraid. Afraid to love and lose again.”
“But she seems so fearless with all of you. Even with Gabe, whose job is so dangerous.” But even as she said it, Megan understood why Mary Sullivan let her children live the lives they chose. “I used to watch Summer on the playground and cringe as she’d shimmy up a pole to the top of the play structure and fling herself onto the roof. She was so much smaller than the other kids, but she had no fear. She still doesn’t—and every day I prepare myself a little more for when she tells me she wants to be a sharpshooter or a race car driver.”
Sophie laughed at that, and while Megan knew she was at risk for showing her hand regarding her growing feelings for Gabe, she needed to know. “How do you deal with the thought that Gabe might not come home from a fire one day?”
Her friend thought about it for a moment. “Marcus could probably grow apples instead of grapes. Chase could paint instead of taking pictures.” Sophie shook her head. “But when we were kids, all Gabe ever wanted to be for Halloween was a firefighter.”
Megan raised an eyebrow at that. “Seriously? Every single year?”
Sophie grinned. “He’s nothing if not focused.”
Megan felt herself blush. She knew firsthand just how focused he could be. And how wonderful it was to be the woman he was focusing on.
She looked up to see Sophie giving her a rueful little smile. “And, honestly, this might sound bad, but I try to remind myself that, statistically, he’s more likely to get hit by a car than die on the job. And we all get into cars knowing the danger, right?”
“I suppose so.”
All of Sophie’s arguments made sense. Still, there remained a disconnect between what Megan’s mind understood...and what her heart believed.
Sophie’s eyes hadn’t left her face. “Can I ask you something this time?”
Megan tried not to tense. “Of course.”
“Have you seen Gabe again? Since the party, I mean.”
“Yes,” she said honestly.
Sophie smiled. “Good.”
Megan braced for her friend to ask more questions, to try to get the whens and hows out of her. Instead, Sophie simply said, “Want to split a piece of chocolate cake?”
“Of course I do.”
The two women grinned at each other and as soon as Sophie raised her hand in the waiter’s direction, he sprinted over to see what the prettiest woman in the restaurant needed. And yet, Megan had the sense that Sophie was totally clueless as to the amount of attention the men around them were giving her.
For a few moments she debated keeping out of her friend’s love life. But, then, what kind of girlfriend would she be? Besides, Sophie had already waded into things with her and Gabe, hadn’t she?
The cake came quickly and as they both picked up their forks to dig into opposite sides, Megan asked, “Any luck with whatever sent you into the potting shed a couple of weeks ago?”
Sophie looked up at Megan in surprise. “The potting shed?” A moment later, her cheeks flamed. She shook her head. “No. I don’t think luck is ever going to be in the cards on that front.”
Megan frowned. “Are you dating anyone?”
Again, Sophie shook her head. “Not really. A couple of guys keep calling, but I’m not really interested.”
Obviously, her friend was saving herself for someone. Again, Megan knew the easier thing was to back away from this discussion. It would be safer to talk about the weather or their plans for the weekend.
But Megan was tired of having acquaintances. She wanted real friends, women she could share tears and laughter with, women she could confide in.
Maybe it was time to step out on a limb.
“Is the guy you’re interested in worth it, Sophie?”
Her friend covered her eyes with her free hand and made a sound that was a cross between a laugh and a sob.
She looked at Megan with such sad eyes that her stomach clenched. “Sometimes I’m sure that he is, but then other times...well, I have to wonder if I’m just fooling myself because I don’t want to see who he really is.”
Megan was heartbroken for Sophie for having fallen into what seemed to be unrequited love with a man who might not deserve it.