“I'm Megan,” she said. “My dad told me how much he likes you. Mom is dying because she hasn't met you yet. And may I thank you, on behalf of our entire family, for saving Mark from the world’s worst ideas the past couple of years.”
A paper cup sailed out of the kitchen to land right on the back of her head. Megan glared good-naturedly at him, but Mark feigned innocence. Justin pulled her farther into the cabin, and only then did I notice that she carried a couple of sacks.
“Breakfast burritos, brother!” she called and tossed them onto the table. “I bring them as a peace offering.”
Mark wilted into a chair and grabbed the closest bag. “All is forgiven!” he declared in a grating operetta. Then he tossed a foil-wrapped something to me. “Stella, these breakfast burritos are the best. You gotta try them.”
Any awkwardness that might have come from the fact that I clearly slept in Mark's house with him never arose. Justin, Meg, Mark, and I cluttered around the small table barely big enough for two and fell into an instant discussion about breakfast foods. Megan spent most of her time staring or laughing at Justin. He kept a sturdy arm around the back of her chair and returned the doting attention.
My stomach curled at the breathtaking sight of such . . . abandonment in the face of love and happiness.
Watch out, my brain wanted to scream at them. What if this all goes away? What if you lose each other?
But I turned that away and, for the first time since Megan arrived, looked at Mark. He caught my gaze and winked. The rankled, crinkly feeling inside me faded. His hand found my knee and rested there while he leaned back in his chair and said to Justin, “So, Atty had a good time last night.”
Megan eyed his arm for a moment but said nothing.
Justin let out a long breath. “I think your kitty came to visit, but I can't be sure. Haven't looked for tracks yet.”
“Hear it?”
Justin shook his head. “Nah. I wouldn't let Atty out of the cabin until I could get a rope on him.” He motioned behind the cabin. “He was barking toward the lake. I'll go out soon and see what I can find.”
“Probably obscured by now.” Mark glanced out the window. Wind blew snow into swirls, but none fell from the low ceiling anymore. Justin shrugged.
“I'll try.”
Megan's eyebrows rose as she swallowed a bite of burrito. “Found a new pet, Mark?”
“Well, no one wants me to get horses . . .”
She laughed, then leaned back in her chair and brought her feet onto the seat. Justin ran a hand over the top of her back.
“I ran into a guy named Benjamin when I stopped for coffee at the Frolicking Moose,” she said. “They've opened for to-go orders now that remodeling is almost done. It was Maverick's brother.”
“Benjamin is working there now?”
“No, just visiting. Ellie was running it. Have you met Benjamin?”
Mark's head tilted. Megan's tone had changed just enough to tell me there was more to what she said, but I couldn't figure out what it might be.
“The MMA fighter?” he asked.
She nodded. “He's here for a few months.”
“Why?”
“Hoping to get ready for a fight.” Her eyebrows rose. “But he's causing quite a stir in town. A reporter from Jackson City tried to corner him for an interview. Maverick was pretty pissed off when I got there.”
Mark's eyes widened. “Seriously?”
She shrugged. “Apparently, Benjamin is very private. He can’t find a place to get rid of the press.”
For a moment, I couldn't tell whether Mark's sudden fascination had something to do with Benjamin himself or the commotion caused in such a small mountain town. Did Mark follow MMA fights or something?
Mark dug around his pockets—he was still in his sweats—for his phone. Then he held up a finger and disappeared up the ladder. By the time he got to the top, he was already speaking to someone.
“How are things?” Justin asked me, and I was grateful he picked up the conversation next. “Any new bookings?”
“Not yet. We set up a plan last night. I received everything from Lizbeth and was able to get my head around what needs to be done. It took a while, but I feel like I have a grip on it now.”
“Another spreadsheet?” he asked with a grin.
I laughed. “Yes. Several. It felt wonderful.”
“You sound like Lizbeth,” Justin said, and I felt a lightning bolt all the way to my heart. The sudden realization that I could just be a shadow of the woman Mark really wanted hit me right then. Could Mark have attached on to me because I reminded him of Lizbeth? From what little I'd seen from her emails and the company, she was organized, on top of things, and not afraid to be a bit bossy.
Familiar, indeed.
Megan glanced at me with a sly smile, saving me from a sudden, breathless spiral. “You must be a saint, Stella, to stay here with Mark.”
There was a teasing note in her tone, but it set my teeth on edge all the same. The urge to rise to his defense overcame me in a flash.
“Not at all,” I replied quietly. “Mark is . . .”
Only a moment of hesitation lay in my broken response, but in it, I comprehended that I had a choice. Throw myself into a clear path with him, or hold back. Despite Megan's obvious love for her brother, I couldn't help but wonder if it was comments like you must be a saint to stay with Mark that had Mark bracing himself whenever he felt like he was too much. Whenever he wanted to be himself but wasn't quite sure what the response would be.
I tilted my chin up.
“Mark is amazing and I'm incredibly grateful that he's putting up with me.”
An
