So would he have never kissed her if his dirty brother hadn’t first?
The thought left her miserable, especially when he was gone this morning. Would it have killed him to leave a note?
“Plates?” She offered them to Paige.
“Please.” Paige finished the eggs, added a slice of ham and toast to each plate, and carried them with her to the kitchen table. “You know, he looked like shit this morning—but he was wearing a kick-ass tie.”
Meg laughed softly and set two cups of coffee on the table. “Yeah, Cody and his ties.”
“He left a message for you.”
Her heart tumbled to her toes, then she jumped to her feet. “Where? Give it to me!” She snatched the envelope from Paige’s outstretched hands.
She didn’t expect him to say something mushy and sweet. Cody wasn’t like that. But she didn’t expect what she read either.
I’m sorry.
C.
At first, she did not react, only stood there, staring at his note. Then, she sat down, thinking.
During the first week after his parents’ murder, there was a fury in Cody’s gaze. Rage. Megan had hoped that later, there would be understanding. His brother had murdered them: not Cody. But the day he left with his adopting relatives from Texas and he’d looked at her window from the car, she had seen a horrible emptiness in his eyes. No rage. No understanding. Only a terrifying emptiness.
She had been haunted by that boy, had made thousands of wishes on his behalf. He had left a broken boy, but had returned a mended man. Though only Megan knew the depths of the little cracks he hid inside.
Cody could be Mr. Hollywood to his colleagues. He smiled, and joked around, and ribbed, but the truth was, he didn’t allow anyone to get close and the tactic had worked for him.
He was on his own.
But last night, he had not been alone.
Last night, he had let down his carefully constructed walls, and he had let her see how much he needed her. Wanted her. Never, in her wildest dreams, had she imagined a man could make love to her like Cody had.
He had explored every inch, had gobbled up every inch, and his face, his breathing, the tension in his body, the fire in his eyes: she could not believe it didn’t mean something to him.
After the sex they had spent hours awake in bed, talking lazily, looking at each other. His eyes had sparkled, there had been a tiny crinkle at the corner of each, a brilliant shine to them as they talked. They’d had a midnight snack and in between morsels he would find an excuse to nibble on her, and Megan had felt like a blushing bride must feel on her wedding night.
No. He could not do this to her. He would not kick her back out to easily resume playing his Iceman role. She refused to let him, to waste another day waiting for him to realize he was “The One.” The only one. For her.
She clenched the note in her hand and slammed it down on the table.
“That bastard!”
“Come again?”
“That jerk! That insufferable buffoon!” She stood and marched to their bedroom, grabbing her purse, her shoes, Paige close at her heels.
“What? Where are you going?”
“To find that asshole and tell him exactly what I think!”
Paige grabbed her elbow and squeezed. “Hey, calm down, he’s out catching a killer, you know, not having an affair. Zach’s with him. He’ll be fine!” When Meg remained unconvinced, Paige gave her a sympathetic pat on the back. “But I guess he’s no longer officially on vacation.”
An idea flashed in her head. What if Cody ditched Zach because he wanted to face Ivan alone? What if the man she loved finally managed to get himself killed? Oh, God.
Struck into motion by her mounting dread, Meg pounced into the master bedroom and rummaged through the drawers. “Does Zach have any extra police radios we could tune into? It might give me an idea of what they’re planning before he gets his stupid buffoon ass killed.” Before Paige could protest, Meg yanked one out and turned it on. “Bingo.”
She was going to help them.
Ivan wouldn’t kill her. She knew it with every bone in her body, that if Cody got in trouble, not even Zach Rivers stood a chance of manipulating Ivan like Megan did.
Plus she was certain that now, after last night’s fireworks, Megan would be the only person on this planet who could truly distinguish between the twins if that devilish Ivan chose to wear a tie.
Cody had once said he’d die for her.
Well, Nordstrom, I’d die for you.
She’d be the bait, if need be, but she was not standing by idly another day in her life. And if Cody had lied to Zach about the meeting at Marcel’s, then Megan was going to make sure Nordstrom was covered.
Face your fears.
Take charge.
Protect him like he’s always protected you …
“You’re not going, Megan Banks!” Paige stopped her at the door, hands on her nonexistent waist, her pretty face scrunched up into a scowl. “There’s a killer on the loose.”
Megan nodded complacently. “Which is why you are staying here. I’ve got a man to catch.”
* * *
Ivan was a no-show at Marcel’s Bistro.
At 12:39 P.M., as Cody sat at a small, round window table, he received a message from the waiter, informing him there was someone on the phone for him. Surveying his surroundings for about the hundredth time, Cody walked to the bar, lifted the phone, “Yeah?”
“Think he smelled a trap?” It was Zach.
Cody glowered, not for the first time, wondering if he should’ve informed his team of the meeting or have faced Ivan today—solo. “I don’t know, man, but he obviously thought you stank.”
Cody’s heart
