Chapter Twenty-Four
Adam turned off the grill and tried to catch his breath. It was lodged in his throat along with his galloping heart. Was that the best he could do? What if we were permanent? What’s wrong with that? It’s what I want. But he’d practiced this. The timing, the pacing, the tenor of his voice so he didn’t sound too eager. He’d closed deals at his firm because he knew how to give the client what they needed. What does Megan need? The simple answer, in his mind, was him and Charlie.
He took the steaks inside, gripping the plate because it felt unsteady in his hand. She’d brought the salad to the table and poured them each a glass of soda. Setting the meat on the table, he smiled, wondering if it looked as awkward as it felt.
“Let’s sit down.” He gestured for her to do so.
“Smells good,” she said as she sat.
He took his seat, ignoring the jab of longing for Charlie to be home, to be sitting down to dinner with them. Tomorrow—he’d be home tomorrow. Letting the thick quiet of the room settle around them, he put one of the steaks on her plate, then his own. Every sound seemed magnified, his knife sliding through the meat, clanking against the plate, Megan’s breathing, and the ticking of the clock over the stove.
Slicing off a bite, he chewed and swallowed, but he didn’t taste a thing. When he glanced up, Megan was watching him, and her eyes darted to her plate. Adam set the fork and knife down and moved his chair slightly.
“This is silly. Look at me, Megan,” he said.
She set her utensils down with such deliberateness, they didn’t make a sound against the plate. When her eyes met his, he took a deep breath. You’ve rehearsed this.
“When I made my list all those weeks ago, I didn’t take into account some things that I now realize are very important,” he began.
She blinked, her bottom lip sliding between her teeth. She nodded, as if to tell him to go on.
“I wasn’t thinking about how good it feels to laugh with someone or curl up with her on the couch. I wasn’t thinking about how nice it is to know the little things—how someone takes her coffee or likes her steak. You fit into my life and Charlie’s like a missing puzzle piece. I don’t want you to go. I want you to stay. I want to be with you. The chemistry between us is undeniable, and I don’t feel like it’s going to fade any time soon. It wasn’t something that I had to have in a relationship, but now that I’ve found it with you, I realize it was naive to think it doesn’t matter.” This was everything he wanted. But he was going about it wrong.
He straightened, tempted to stand, but he wanted to maintain eye contact. She turned in her chair, and he leaned forward, taking her hands.
“I know we’ve only been together for a couple of weeks, but we’ve known each other for years. You’re the kind of woman I want in Charlie’s life for good. In my life for good. I know you’re ready to start your career, but I don’t want you to go. Stay here with my son and me. You love Charlie. I know you do. And not just because you say it, but you show it to him in dozens of ways. He loves you back.”
She took a deep, shaky breath and edged forward on her seat, bringing them closer.
“I do love him. Very much. You want me to stay? Like in this house or in my apartment?”
Hadn’t he just made that clear? “In this house. In my bed. In our lives. I don’t want you to be a nanny, Megan. I want you to be my wife. I want you to be a stepmom to Charlie. I can’t think of a better person for that role. You’re already more to him than I ever would have imagined. I want us to be a family.”
Megan exhaled hard, like she was blowing out a dozen candles. He wished he could read her mind. “You want to get married. So I can be a stepmom to Charlie?”
Pulling her closer, he opened his knees so hers could slide between. Adam ran his hands up and down her arms. “I do. In fact, I already applied for a license. I have the paperwork in my briefcase for you to do the same. Once we’ve both done that, there’s no wait time.”
Excitement snowballed in his stomach, making him smile. “I mean, I understand if you’d like to wait a bit, but we don’t need to. We’re both residents of Maine, so we could have the ceremony performed by a lawyer or notary this week. We’d be a family. You, me, and Charlie. He’d be so thrilled, Megan.”
“A…a notary?”
Adam reached out and stroked her jaw. God, her skin was the softest thing he’d ever touched. “Yes. A notary, judge, or lawyer can officiate, as long as we’re both residents.”
Megan blinked several times. “When did you apply for the license?”
Unable to hold off on kissing her, he pressed his lips against hers. They were stiff and unmoving, but he figured she was nervous. He certainly was. Pulling back, he took her hands again. “A few days ago. We can have a really good life together, Megan. You can teach; I’ll be a CFO for the hospital or some other organization. I know my work schedule has been crazy, but a different job will help with that. I hope that if we have children, you’d want to stay home for a little while, but you know I’ll be hands on. And Charlie would be a great big brother.”
“Hands on. Yes.”
He’d really stunned her. Laughing, he squeezed her fingers. “Tell me you don’t want to go. That you don’t want what we have between us to be over.”
Megan pulled her hands from his and stood, stepping away from him. Walking to the counter, she leaned against it and stared at him a moment before she spoke. “What do we have, Adam?”
Turning in his chair, his stomach tilted sideways. He couldn’t read her tone. “We have a connection. Chemistry. Mutual caring and respect for each other. And a chance for a solid, long-term partnership that would make us both happy.”
Standing now, he walked closer but kept some space between them. She seemed to want it. He didn’t.
“So you’re asking me to marry you?”
Shit. Had he not phrased it that way? Should he have gone down on one knee? That seemed unnecessary given their history and the fact that she knew he wanted to get married. Compromise! Of course she wants it.
Closing the distance between them, he took her hands once more. Taking a deep breath, he went down on one knee. “Yes. I’m asking you, Megan Carter, if you’ll be my wife.”
A strange sound left her throat as she looked down at him. “Why?” The word was whispered and rough, like it hurt to say it.
“Why marry me?” he asked.
She shook her head. “No. Why do you want to marry me?”
His stomach grew queasy. He’d told her. Tell her again. “I want to be with you. I don’t want you to go. I care for you. We’re a good fit. Don’t you think so?”
When she blinked this time, a tear escaped, and Adam’s heart squeezed painfully in response. “I do think so. But why do you want to marry me? You could find another good match.”
Adam dropped her hands and ran both of his through his hair, trying not to seem frustrated. He felt stupid, down on his knee, but didn’t know if he should get up. “I don’t want to be with anyone else. I want to be with you. I could find someone else, and so could you. But I don’t want that. Life is about choices, and I want us to choose each other.”
Tears slipped slowly from her eyes, but when he reached out, she put her hand up to stop him. “I wanted you to choose me, too.”
What? He stood up. Ignoring her protest, he gripped her shoulders and bent his knees. “What are you talking about? I do. I am. I’m choosing you. I’m asking you to marry me.”
Megan shrugged off his hands and tried to back up, but the counter was behind her. “Because you want a partner to raise your son and share your life.”
“Exactly.” That was exactly what he wanted. But not just anyone. He wanted Megan.
Megan moved around him, making a frustrated sound. “But not because you love me.”
Shit. He hadn’t exactly given her poetry. Love. Did he love her? Did it matter? He was offering her something more than love—he was making her a promise that no matter what happened, they’d be together. Anyone could say those three words. They weren’t fucking glue. The pain etched into the lines of her face and in every tear on her cheeks burned like acid in his stomach. He might not need them, but she clearly did.
“Megan. You know I care about you. So much. These past couple of weeks have been…” Absolutely everything to me. He wanted to say the words, and it terrified him, nearly crippled his ability to speak at all.
She sniffed loudly but stood taller. “Have been?”
It was hard to talk around the tightening of his chest. His skin was cold. “You told Charlie not to make a promise unless you planned to keep it. I promise you, I will be a good husband to you. A good partner. I’ll be loyal and faithful. I want to be your lover and your friend. I want to be the person you come home to. The person you wake up to. I’ve never felt like this about anyone. I’d do anything for you.”
“Except love me.”
Goddamn it. He should just say the words even though just thinking them was like a noose around his neck. Give her something. You’re going to lose her. Fucking say it. Chest tight, he tried to settle his pulse. Just say the fucking words. He hadn’t said them to any woman other than Reece, and look how well that had turned out. She’s not Reece. “Megan. I—”
She held up a hand, tears trickling down her cheeks. “Don’t. Just don’t. I knew what I was getting into. What you’re asking…it isn’t enough. Not for me, and even though you say you’re doing it for Charlie, it’s not enough for him, either. If his father gets married, he should know it is because of a loving commitment to forever.”
He stepped closer, but her retreat made him stop. “Don’t do this. Don’t let three words stop us from having what you know could be a good life together. I will be committed to you. They’re just words, Megan.”
She shook her head, and the sneer on her lips seemed foreign. “They’re not just words. They’re the real promise. They’re hope. Proof that you’re willing to take a leap of faith and be someone’s person. If you can’t say them…if you can’t feel them the way I feel it for you, you can’t make me happy. I’ll always be sad wondering what I could do differently to make you love me back.”
“Fine. What if I say it? Will you marry me then?”
Her jaw dropped, and he regretted the outburst immediately. “Love isn’t something you say just to get what you want, Adam. It’s something you feel, something you might not intend to fall into, but it’s not always your choice. If it worked like that, I would have stopped myself from falling in love with you. But the heart doesn’t work like that. Try to stop loving Charlie. You can’t. Because when you love someone, it’s part of you. You say you’re not built for it, but that’s not true or you wouldn’t be such a good dad. You love him. Love is love. You feel it or you don’t. It’s not that you can’t love me. It’s that you don’t want to. And I can’t be with you knowing that.”
Panic settled into his bloodstream, pumped through him. He tried to touch her, to pull her close. “Megan.”
That one word felt like it shredded his throat. She kept shaking her head, and tears continued to fall. He just wanted to stop her tears, just pull her close and tell her he’d fix it. He didn’t know how to fix it, but he’d do anything to stop the pain pouring out of her. With jerky movements, she walked to the counter and grabbed her purse.
“I can’t stay here. I’m sorry. I think Sue is a good match for you and Charlie.”
“Megan, don’t go like this. Charlie comes home tomorrow. I still need you—”
She stopped and whirled on him, pointing at him with such fury, he took a step back. “Do not tell me what you need. I’ll find a way to say goodbye to Charlie, but you need to sort yourself out because I’m not coming back. It was a mistake to think you’d changed. That you’d realized love doesn’t have to tear you apart. Sometimes, it can put you back together.”
On those words, she spun on her heel and stomped out of his kitchen. The door slammed, the vibration echoing around him. Adam stared into the space where she’d been standing, just seconds ago. Tunneling his hands into his hair, he gripped the strands and tried to stop the waves of pain racking his body. Bending in half, he let loose an angry stream of curse words, then stood straight, pacing back and forth with the urge to pick up the now-cold steak from the table and hurl it across the room.
He gripped the back of one of his chairs so tight his knuckles turned white. The pounding ache in his bloodstream was picking up the pace, making his body shake. With two hands, he lifted the chair and slammed it back in its spot. Feeling like a caged animal, he tossed the chair aside and hurried for the patio doors, desperate to get outside, to pull in a breath that didn’t taste like Megan’s vanilla-scented body wash. He couldn’t fucking breathe, and as his heart raged and he paced back and forth across his lawn, he realized he didn’t care.
If she was gone, breathing was the least of his concerns.