Chapter 17
Megan was sprawled on her back in a field of wildflowers, a warm breeze playing with the hem of her skirt as it drifted across her body. White, fluffy clouds floated by in a cerulean sky.
Propping herself up on her elbows, she looked out at the rolling green hills. It was an almost perfect day. And it would have been one hundred percent perfect if not for that lawnmower she heard roaring louder and louder.
Her body was rocked side to side and her eyes flew open. Gone were the wildflowers in her dreamland. It took a minute for her eyes to adjust to the dark before she realized where she was. From the light creeping through the gaps in the drapes, she made out the details of the hotel room at the Langham.
The bed dipped and shook again, and the duvet pulled off of her, in the direction of a breathing pile of covers. She could just make out a few locks of wild brown hair, but that was all she could see of the snoring, sleeping bear beside her.
No wonder she’d dreamed of a lawnmower.
After slipping out of bed, she shuffled to the bathroom. She brushed her teeth and ran a comb through her hair. It was knotted and tangled and looked like a rat’s nest. A glance in the mirror told her that every other part looked refreshed. Her cheeks had a touch of pink; her eyes glowed.
As she washed her hands, she couldn’t stop the grin from spreading across her face. Sex looks good on me.
Creeping back into the room, she checked the time. Nine o’clock.
Megan snagged her discarded panties and bra from the floor and stashed them in her overnight bag. She was stepping into a pair of baby-pink hipsters when her eyes caught on James’s crumpled dress shirt. Picking it up, she pressed it to her nose and breathed in his clean, woodsy scent.
In the movies, she thought it was super sexy when a woman wore a man’s shirt the morning after. She smiled as she shrugged on the thin white cotton shirt and fastened a couple buttons.
It not only felt sexy but it was comforting in a way she’d never imagined. The shirt hung from her shoulders, its rolled-up sleeves extending nearly to her wrists. James was a big man and just being in his shirt made her feel a little more secure. Not so alone.
“Now that’s a sight I could get used to.”
His deep voice caressed her like crushed velvet. She turned to him and smiled.
He was sitting up in bed with a pile of covers heaped around his waist. He rubbed his bare chest, squinting at her like she was a bright light. His hair stuck up in all directions, his impossibly full lips were pursed, and his eyes looked swollen.
Despite all that, he still made her body ache.
Putting a knee on the end of the bed, she crawled toward him. “Good morning,” she whispered. He accepted her quick kiss and smiled as she sat back on her knees.
“Morning.”
His voice was scratchy and low. He rubbed at both eyes with the palms of his hands. He must not be a morning person.
Letting her eyes wander, she traced the outline of the dark tattoo inked on one side of his chest. She’d barely noticed it last night, too busy with other things apparently.
The tattoo was of a tree caught in a storm, its branches and leaves wavering in a strong wind that rushed over his chest and left shoulder. The dark, lonely tree stood stark against the paleness of his skin.
Reaching out, Megan traced it with her fingertips. For an image so violent and wrought with turmoil, she was surprised at how smooth it felt.
He was propped up on the bed with his arms behind him, watching her closely.
“This is beautiful,” she said. “What does it mean?”
“The night Cade was born there was a bad storm that moved through. A couple years later, I saw a quote that said something along the lines of ‘There’s a blessing in the storm’ and it resonated in more ways than one.”
Her pink-polished nails skimmed down the trunk of the tree. James’s love for his son was one of the most attractive parts about him. But Megan also knew the storm referred to his love for his ex-wife. Holly had scarred him deeply. Much deeper than the ink of his tattoo.
Without thinking, she leaned forward and placed a kiss in the middle of the blowing branches. Before she could sit back up, he hooked her under her arms and flipped her onto her back.
“How’d you sleep, sweetheart?” he asked before pressing a soft kiss to her lips, his voice low and sultry and shooting straight between her legs.
“Great,” she answered when he pulled back. “Until your snoring woke me up this morning.”
A sexy smirk spread across his face. “I don’t snore.”
She giggled. “You do. In fact, you snore so loudly I dreamed of lawnmowers.”
He grabbed the outside of her thigh and squeezed. “What lies.” He laughed as she squeaked.
“It’s true,” she insisted, wiggling helplessly underneath him as his tickles spread to her ribs. “And you’re a blanket hog.”
His response—whatever it was—got muffled by the side of her neck. He nuzzled his stubbly jaw there, causing more hysterical shrieking and squirming.
At some point, his relentless tickles crossed from playful to foreplay when his nips and squeezes turned to warm licks and caresses. Her delighted shrieks reduced to breathless gasps as he pressed his erection into the aching place between her legs. Instead of trying desperately to escape him, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer.
His mouth found hers, their tongues tangling in a slow, deliberate dance that had her writhing beneath him again, but this time with shameless need. His body was heavy above hers, but she loved the weight. She loved being surrounded by him and the pressure of his large frame pressing her into the mattress.
The slow burn of their kiss seemed more intimate than the three times they’d had sex the night before. It was almost like this man was opening up to her, letting her into him a little deeper. It was funny how she could feel closer to him by merely kissing him instead of by the merging of their bodies.
But that was because when they slept together, they weren’t making love. They were fucking, to use his words. The thought cooled her desire like a cold bucket of water.
James must have noticed because he pulled back and looked down at her. His sleepy brown eyes blinked as he searched her face, looking for an answer. It was definitely one she wasn’t willing to share with him. The answer might be that she was falling for her rebound guy, and that was something she was scared to admit even to herself.
She smiled in an effort to hide her unease, hoping it was enough to ward off an uncomfortable conversation. It worked.
“What time is it?” he asked, rolling off her to look at the clock on the nightstand.
“A little after nine.”
His body went still. “Fuck,” he groaned.
He swung his legs over the edge of the mattress and stood, stretching his arms over his head. Thank God she was lying down, because the sight of his naked backside would have stolen the strength from her legs. Strong, muscled shoulders and back narrowed toward his waist, where the most perfect ass was on full display. Rounded globes with muscular indentions and thick, strong thighs.
Saliva flooded her mouth as he finished his stretch and walked over to a duffle bag she hadn’t seen the night before. He pulled out a pair of dark gray boxer briefs and stepped into them.
“I gotta put in some time at the garage today.”
She tried not to be disappointed by his casual tone. She had no plans whatsoever, and truthfully, she’d hoped they’d be able to grab some breakfast and coffee before they went their separate ways.
“Did you drive here or take a cab?” he asked before turning to face her. He was shoving his arms into a white undershirt.
“I took a cab.”
He nodded. “I can drop you off at your apartment before I head to work.”
“Okay, thanks,” she murmured.
Just like that, their time together was over. Their night of simmering passion—four orgasms for her and three for him—was forgotten.
She couldn’t help but feel like she was a business transaction instead of someone he cared about. But she had to remind herself that he’d made no promises and neither had she.
She crawled out of bed and went to her bag. After pulling on a pair of jeans, Megan reluctantly took off his shirt.
She finished dressing with her back to him. She couldn’t help but feel she needed to hide—not just her body, which he’d seen in detail, but the emotional turmoil she knew was evident.
“When can we see each other again?” she asked before she could stop herself.
Although she tried to make her voice lighthearted, she hated the undercurrent of desperation she heard. There was no immediate reply.
She was just about to turn to see if he’d snuck into the bathroom when she felt a warm kiss where her neck met her shoulder. Goosebumps dotted her flesh as she gasped.
Pressing his tongue to her skin, he closed his mouth on the spot and sucked gently. “Soon, I hope,” he murmured, and then swatted her swiftly on the ass before he walked to the bathroom and shut the door.
###
Sometimes it fucking sucked being the boss.
One of James’s mechanics had called in sick, and the shop was massively behind schedule. It was the end of the workweek, and they needed to finish orders for three customers by the end of the day, not to mention three more deliveries by the end of the day on Monday. Which meant James was going to be working all weekend.
Which also meant he’d have to send Cade and Abel to the Bears game on Sunday without him.
Which also meant he wasn’t going to be able to make plans with Megan either.
After releasing the hood latch on the Lexus he’d just pulled into the garage, James got out and slammed the door a little harder than he should have. If he made his guys come into the shop on the weekend, his employee turnover would be sky high. Any of his employees could get a job at another auto shop for the same pay.
If he wanted to keep good employees, the added perk of not working weekends was the one thing that kept his guys from leaving. James, unfortunately, was the only weekend employee.
Thanksgiving was next Thursday, and it was usually feast or famine before the holidays. Either there was a lull in daily business or they had cars and grease coming out their ears. This year it was the latter. If James wanted to take a half day off next Wednesday and a full day off on Friday to spend the holiday at his sister’s, he was going to have to put in some serious hours between now and then.
After lifting the hood on the Lexus, he inspected the engine. Nothing looked amiss, but he hadn’t expected it to. He would bet the bank that the miss in the engine the customer complained about was the result of a faulty spark plug. This was the third Lexus in here this month, and it had been the same problem for each of them.
Twisting the ratchet, he started to remove the engine cover. He hadn’t spoken to Megan since he dropped her off at her apartment on Saturday morning. They’d spent a fucking awesome night at the Langham and his body missed her. He was honestly surprised at just how disappointed the thought of not catching up with her this weekend made him. He wondered if she thought about him during the week like he caught himself thinking about her.
Starting on the timing belt cover, he silently cursed Lexus for burying their fucking spark plugs so deep in the goddamn engine.
He and Megan hadn’t made plans for this weekend, but he still felt he owed her a call to explain that he wasn’t avoiding her. The thought made him laugh.
Jesus, am I whipped already?
He didn’t know if he’d call it whipped, but he found himself looking forward to seeing her. Hell, he looked forward to getting a text from her. But that didn’t make him whipped. Was it wrong for him to enjoy the time he spent with a beautiful woman? Fuck no.
“James!” Janie yelled from the front. “Phone call!”
Wiping his hands with a shop rag, he made his way to his office. He picked up the flashing line.
“This is James Foley.”
“Hi, Mr. Foley. My name is Erica Harrison. I’m calling from the Keystone Treatment Center at St. Elizabeth Hospital.”
James sank into his chair and rested his forehead against the palm of his hand. “Okay.”
“Holly Foley has been involuntarily admitted into our facility as of three o’clock this morning. She’s given us your name as immediate family.”
He sighed. “I’m her ex-husband.”
“I see. Sir, we can only keep Holly for up to seventy-two hours before we are required by law to release her. If she decides to seek voluntary treatment, we can change her status and extend her stay. We just needed to notify immediate family of her whereabouts.”
“I can give you the names and contact information of her parents if it would be helpful. As I mentioned, Holly and I are divorced, and I’m no longer immediate family.”
“I’d be happy to take that information from you.”
After relaying the information, James hung up the phone and closed his eyes. The familiar sadness returned. Anything to do with Holly and her dependency felt like a wet blanket weighing him down.
At one time, receiving a call like that would have sent him scurrying to the hospital. Even after their divorce, he’d footed the bill for hospital stays and outpatient rehab stints.
But not anymore. When it’d become evident that she wasn’t willing to clean herself up, he’d decided that he could no longer be responsible for her. And that had killed him. It had lanced straight through him.
Holly was the mother of his son. She had been his high school sweetheart and the former love of his life. He felt so goddamn selfish for turning his back on her like that, and he probably always would. But her drug addiction was a poison that had slowly eaten away at him.
She would always be a part of his life, but he was no longer her caretaker. He felt sorry for pushing the huge burden onto her parents.
The most he could do to make it up to them was let them visit with Cade anytime they wanted. He sent them school pictures every year. He sent them Cade’s little league schedule. They were invited to birthday parties, and James and Cade spent Christmas Eve with Holly’s parents so they could shower their only grandson with presents.
But that was all James could do.
Thanks to Holly, James’s faith in other people was pretty nonexistent. He trusted his family, but outside of that, he was extremely guarded. He never again wanted to risk the kind of pain he’d felt when Holly had abandoned him. That pain was mixed with a helplessness that he didn’t think he could stand again.
Just as he was about to get up and resume work on that Lexus, James heard his cell phone ding.
Megan: Hey, how are you? Do you want to get together this weekend?
He took a deep breath, and his fingers tapped out his short response.
James: I can’t.
He didn’t wait to get a response back to her. It wasn’t even lunch yet, and his emotional reserves were already spent. He’d love to spend time with Megan. He could fuck this guilt right out of his system, and he knew she’d gladly help him. Not like he’d be using her. She would get something out of it too.
Between work and all his sordid baggage, he wouldn’t be good company. And even a roll in the sheets with Megan wouldn’t help him with either of those problems.