As welcomes went, this rated right up at the top. “I’m happy to see you, too.”
She drew back. “Did you make your field trip to see Christina today?”
He shook his head. “No. They bumped her move until tomorrow morning. I’ll speak with her then. I have a feeling she’ll stick to her story that Burke killed Olivia. She’ll likely say he attacked both of them at the cliffs-and that’s how her DNA ended up on the rock. We probably won’t ever know for sure unless she confesses.”
The news didn’t sit well. She wanted justice for her cousin. If Burke did kill Olivia then his penance would be paid in the afterlife. But Meghan wanted to make Christina pay for her part in Olivia’s death. “She could be let go?”
“No. The D.A. has enough evidence to convict on Burke’s death. So either way, she’s going to stay in prison for a long time.”
“What about Mr. Sharp?”
He’d given them the lead that eventually made rescuing Georgina possible. It was only by the grace of God that Meghan and the children hadn’t been hurt. She and Ryan had saved the children. There was no question in his mind that God had been with them. “Sharp’s in general lockup at Rikers. He’ll be staying.”
“Good. Justice prevailed on that account.” She hugged him again. He breathed in the clean scent of her shampoo. He was right where he wanted to be.
“Yum, that smells delicious.” She stepped out of his arms. He wanted to pull her close again.
“I love that you brought dinner here,” she said, taking the bag from him and heading toward the kitchen. “I’ll put this on plates. The table’s already set.”
He glanced around, taking stock of her cottage. He’d admired the cottage from afar for along time. His own place just down the beach was a real money pit. A fixer-upper that he didn’t have time to fix up. He could see the potential in the A-frame house but some days he couldn’t get past the peeling paint, leaking pipes and ancient kitchen. But he much preferred Meghan’s cozy house.
Everything had a lived-in look from the floral couch, the Queen Anne chair to the round oak dining table near the window. Vases full of fresh flowers added an extra cheeriness to the antique furnishings.
He heard the bang of cupboards and the clank of dishes. “Can I help?” he called out.
“No. Just have a seat,” she called back.
He moved toward the dining table near the side picture window. In the light of day there would be a nice view of the ocean. Tonight, however, only darkness lay beyond the glass pane.
A laptop sitting open precariously close to the edge of a couch cushion, as if hastily set aside, drew his attention. Meghan must have been working. He nudged it to place it in a more secure position and the screen lit up.
The headline and byline snagged his attention.
Hardly daring to breathe, let alone believe what he was seeing, Ryan read the article. Horror grew with each word. When he’d finished reading, he sank down onto the couch, feeling boneless.
The story painted a sad picture of a young girl reaching out in desperation to the father she never knew. And that man, her father-Ryan’s father-Aiden Fitzgerald, the man running for mayor of Fitzgerald Bay-refused to help his illegitimate daughter, thus sending the girl on a doomed path. The story continued on, chronicling the events leading to the arrest of socialite Christina Hennessy and the rescue of three innocent lives from human traffickers.
The words blurred on the screen. His eyes burned. The double-edged sword of betrayal sliced through his heart. The hurt was raw and jagged. The anger he’d felt for his father rose with a vengeance.
Along with a new anger.
Meghan, his Meghan, had written an expose that could destroy his family.
In his eyes, that was unforgivable.
Meghan returned to the living room carrying a tray laden with steaming plates of chicken Parmesan, sides of broccoli and rice and a basket of sourdough rolls. Ryan sat on the couch. In his hands was her laptop. The ice frosting his gaze sent a chill down her spine. She stopped abruptly. A piece of broccoli bounced off a plate and disappeared beneath the couch.
“You can’t do this,” he said, his voice hard and cold.
Fighting back the sudden fear that griped her, she stepped forward. Ryan was not like her ex-husband. He would not take out his anger on her.
Slowly, she set down the tray on the coffee table. “Let me explain.”
He jumped to his feet. “You mean explain how you shoved a knife into my back.”
Heart pounding, she held her ground and contemplated how best to diffuse the situation. “I saw a lawyer today. He suggested-”
“That you destroy my family?”
“No.” She reached out for him. He jerked back. Hurt, she let her hand drop to her side. “He said I need to show an income from my writing if I have any hope of gaining custody of Georgina.” She planned to tell him this over their dinner. This and that she loved him and wanted to spend the rest of her life with him. “The editor at
“There has to be another way than this…this garbage.”
His words ripped into her. Her defenses rose. She didn’t think bringing up the other option of marriage would go over well now. “The public deserves to know the whole story before they elect Aiden to the mayor’s seat.”
“The way you spin this, you make him out to be a monster.”
“I only wrote what I know to be true.”
“The truth is more complicated than this.” He snapped the laptop closed and tossed it onto the couch. “What about us, Meghan?”
The tortured expression on his face hammered at her resolve.
“I love you,” she admitted, hating how hollow the words sounded. Nothing like the way she’d pictured declaring her love for him.
He scoffed. “And this is how you show it?”
“This isn’t about you. I need a way to support Georgina. I’m a journalist, Ryan. I write what needs to be told.” She had to make him understand that she had to do this. “I have to submit this, Ryan. My editor has promised me the front page. If CNN picks it up-”
“CNN?” he groaned and fell back a step.
“It could make the difference in the custody hearing. I’m a single woman. I need to show that I can financially provide for Georgina.”
“And you think the way to do that is by destroying my family. Her family.”
Meghan sucked in a sharp breath. “Your father turned his back on her. On Olivia.”
“Please, don’t do this.” In two long strides he closed the distance between them. “I’m begging you, please don’t do this.”
Her heart lurched at the idea that this big, proud man would beg for anything. Maybe there was a chance they could salvage their relationship. If he could only see this from her point of view. “Ryan-”
He took her hand and held on tight. “You’ll drag us all through the mud. Georgina included. Think about her. Think about how this will affect her growing up if all the world knows the horrible details of her birth and her mother.”
He didn’t play fair.
“I’ll protect her.”
He dropped his hand. The chill in his gaze returned, freezing in its intensity. “You won’t be able to protect her from the gossip and rumors. She’ll always live under a cloud if you print this story.”
“We don’t live in the eighteenth century, Ryan. It may feel that way sometimes living in this quaint town with its tight-knit community, but scandals come and go. No one blinks an eye at illegitimate children these days.”
The sad testament of the world’s moral status didn’t appear to appease him, if the glare he leveled on her was
