His sister’s words wrapped around him, making sense not because of their logic but due to the fact that she’d experienced the same feelings of loss. She’d closed herself off to more. And she’d come out the other side because she’d been brave.
“Look, man. You knew Meg was pregnant when you started this thing. Are you really going to bail now because it’s getting real?”
“Dylan,” Olivia said, warning him to shut up with her tone.
“What? It’s the truth,” Dylan muttered.
“He gets what I said, don’t you?” his sister asked him.
Scott met Olivia’s gaze and nodded, because he did. Olivia had done what he would have thought was impossible and gotten through to him. Dylan was right. He had to man up. Not necessarily throw Meg’s life into further turmoil by dumping his feelings on her in the middle of her current nightmare, but he had to stop waffling. He’d told her from the beginning he was all in.
Then he’d turned around and backed off when messy emotions had gotten involved. Shame on him, he thought.
“Here she comes,” Olivia said softly.
Scott looked from his sister to Dylan. “I heard you. Both of you,” he said, rising to his feet as Meg approached the table.
He held out her chair so she could sit, and Emilio returned with their food. The rest of the meal passed with general conversation. Scott was ready to get Meg home and fix things between them as best he could. The rest would come with time. He hoped.
Meg walked out of the restaurant and headed for the parking garage. The balmy air settled on her shoulders, too humid for comfort. She glanced at Scott, who seemed . . . calmer somehow. Which she didn’t understand, considering how intense so much of the conversation had been.
“Would it be okay if we stopped by my apartment on the way home?” she asked. They weren’t too far from her place, so it wasn’t out of the way. “I need more comfortable clothes since I’m not going to be working, and while I’m there, I can grab my mail.”
“Not a problem.”
He braced his hand on the small of her back as they walked, and she did her best not to visibly react to his warm touch. Even if her body responded to him, would always respond to him, her brain was sending out warning signals to keep her emotional distance.
“I should have told you what I knew about the Ashtons,” he said, surprising her. “I just figured you needed time to breathe before we jumped into that again on Wednesday.”
She smiled grimly. “And you didn’t know Luke was going to tell me first, which pissed you off.”
“It’s not that,” he said, too quickly.
She deliberately cleared her throat, giving him a chance to change his mind.
“Okay, it’s that,” he said, obviously caught. “It’s just . . . I wanted to be the one to tell you.”
They paused outside the garage where they’d parked. “But you didn’t. You decided to wait. We’ve talked about this already. You can’t keep making decisions about what I need to know and when.”
“You’re right.” He tilted his head, looking into her eyes as he spoke.
“I am?”
“But you have to admit we’ve had a lot of different emotional topics going on. I can’t always know what’s best or get it right.”
She sighed, and the weight on her shoulders eased a little. “I’ll give you that.” Nothing between them was simple. Or easy. Not anymore.
His hand slid from her back to her hip, and he turned her to face him. “Don’t give up on me,” he said in a thick tone, his eyes a darker navy than she could remember seeing them, his expression serious. “I know I’ve given you reason not to trust me. I came on strong, and then I pulled back . . . but that’s over now.”
She shook her head, not understanding. But her heart beat faster inside her chest.
“You’ve been great,” she told him honestly. “You stepped up when nobody else did. You’re making sure both me and my baby are safe. I’m grateful.”
His hand tightened on her waist. “I don’t want your gratitude, baby.”
Her heart tripped at his use of the word in that tone. He sounded more like the Scott who’d pushed his way into her life and promised he’d never leave and less like the man who’d pulled away emotionally.
She ran her tongue over her lips, gratified when his eyes followed the movement. “What do you want?”
“You,” he said gruffly, pulling her against him and kissing her hard.
If he was trying to make a point, he did it well, his tongue swiping over her lips, demanding entry she willingly gave. As he consumed her mouth, he held her hard against his hips, her body well aware of his hard length pressing into her. Excitement and yearning filled her veins, a liquid pulsing desire that spoke of true need and longing for this man. She kissed him back with everything she had, ignoring the warnings that tried to intrude.
Suddenly a loud car horn sounded, and she jumped back. “Get a room!” a man yelled out the window of a car that had pulled up the ramp of the parking garage. She and Scott were blocking the driver from leaving.
Certain she was blushing, she stepped to the side and waved. “Sorry,” she called toward the car’s open window as Scott joined her, laughing.
They didn’t discuss the moment outside the garage or the words he’d spoken, and Meg was grateful. Her head was spinning as it was, and she needed time to unwind and just be, something Scott seemed to sense.
Once they arrived at her apartment, they stopped at the mailboxes downstairs, and she pulled out the stack of letters and a bulky soft package that barely fit into the box.
Scott waited while she packed up a few more casual tops and other things she’d forgotten before rejoining him. “I’m just going to look through the mail here, so I only take what I need.
