A Lady Under Siege - By B.G. Preston Page 0,82
her bedside.”
“Not necessary. She’ll be fine.”
“I don’t think I have a cup that’s not chipped.”
“You know, I’ve never actually sat in a neighbour’s house and had a cup of coffee like this,” Meghan smiled. “My mom used to, all the time, when I was a kid. She was the classic stay-at-home small-town mom—her kitchen was her kingdom, and her girlfriends would just drop by unannounced. Her life was so much more casual—now everything’s timed to the minute. I’m already feeling guilty about leaving Betsy. Not to mention the work I have. No matter where I am, I feel like I need to be somewhere else.”
“I don’t have that problem. I’ve pretty much retreated from that life.”
“But what have you replaced it with?” she asked.
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know. Are you happy?”
“Let me put it this way. I see lots of people who are really unhappy, and I’m glad I’m not them.”
“But are you happy?”
“Sometimes. Are you?”
“Not often, lately.”
“Should we even be aiming for happy all the time? It takes such effort. Look Meghan, for whatever reason, fate has thrown us together, and I find you very attractive. I’ve let you know that. I told you I’m along for the ride—if you want to use me to reach Thomas, to fulfill some kind of romantic quest you’ve got going, well, I’m happy to be part of the expedition. Whatever your motivations, I’m into it. I can help you out.”
His cell phone rang in the living room. He went to retrieve it, and held it out to her when he came back. “I think you can guess who.”
“How does she have your number?”
“The day she cut her hand, I gave it to her. After I’d bandaged her up. Just in case.”
Meghan took the phone. “Yes my love.”
“What are you doing over there?” her daughter asked peevishly.
“None of your business, actually.”
“You’re supposed to be taking care of me.”
“I do take care of you, 24/7. I was just on my coffee break.”
“Come home.”
“I’m coming. Give me a minute!”
She snapped the phone shut and handed it to Derek. “Someone’s jealous,” she said.
“Tell her it’s platonic.”
“Is it?”
“Platonic with the potential to be more,” he amended. “I need to start working on my wooing.” His lip curled into a slight grin. “How’s Thomas doing with his?”
“Good, actually. I think he’s winning her over. But every time she gets ready to let herself be won, she remembers her husband, and what he made her promise. Whether it’s her personality, or the times she lives in, she thinks differently from me. It’s almost like she lacks free will. She can’t accept she has a choice. But he’s become such a gentleman—he’s so patient with her. You’re being patient with me too.”
“What else can I do? Unlike your Thomas, who had to learn to behave himself, I live in the age of consent.”
“I think I’m ready to give it.”
“Great. Good.” He smiled broadly “Let’s do it.”
“Not now!” she laughed. “Not with Betsy waiting for me. It would be all tense, and furtive.”
“Furtive is good,” he laughed. “Furtive is like sneaky, and illicit, and generally makes things more intense.”
“You’re not a mom, obviously. Sneaky and illicit are fine when you’re a kid hiding something from the parents, but when you’re a parent hiding from the kids, it crosses over to being just plain sordid and weird.”
“I think you should stop talking and kiss me now.”
“All right. I will.”
“Then do it.”
She leaned forward and kissed him experimentally. His lips met hers hungrily, but a feeling startled her, and made her push him back so she could see his eyes. Thomas was there, she was certain.
“It’s like there’s two of you,” she said.
“Is that good or bad?”
“It’s good. It’s okay.”
His phone rang again. He checked the number without answering. “The brat,” he smiled.
“I’m going, I’m going,” Meghan sighed. “Tell her I’m on my way.”
41
Thomas and Sylvanne went riding again together the very next afternoon. This time they gave the horses a thorough workout. Sylvanne rode like a man, with her skirt hoisted daringly high, so that her calves showed bare and white in the sun. At a place where a country creek widened into a kidney-shaped pond, they stopped to let their mounts rest and drink, and Thomas was moved to remark, “In horsemanship, I can truly say we are as equals.”
Sylvanne smiled and said, “Oh really? Today I thought myself your better. But perhaps it was my mount that surpassed yours.”
“Then we should switch horses,” he suggested.
“No no. We must find