The Marine's Secret Daughter

“Here’s your confirmation number.” The nurse handed him a yellow sticky note.

He shifted the bag in his hand and took the paper. “Thanks...uh...”

She blushed. “Ellie.”

“Appreciate it, Ellie.” He turned toward the footsteps coming down the hall and went to meet Meg.

He thanked God Meg’s color had returned, but those bruising circles under her eyes and the oversize scrub top gave her a fragile appearance. His gut clenched as he fought the urge to scoop her up and carry her off. To where? The nearest cave? Had he lost his mind? He had obligations that didn’t include Meg and he needed to remember that.

Meg pointed to the white plastic bag in his hand. “Been shopping?”

“I heard the nurse say there was mold on your hoodie and it’s getting chillier out there.” He pulled a pink hooded sweatshirt from the bag and a teddy bear fell out, but he caught the stuffed animal before it landed on the floor.

She raised her eyebrows at the bear but didn’t say anything, and he regretted his impulse buy. And you thought this was a good idea why, Marine?

“Here,” he muttered and handed her the bear.

“What’s this for?” Her glance bounced between him and the toy.

“It’s to replace the one Liam and I used for archery practice.” He cleared his throat. “I’ve...uh, been meaning to replace it for a long time now.”

Her eyes narrowed. “I knew you two had something to do with it.”

“I wanted to tell you but Liam threatened me.” He shoved his hands in the pockets of his cammies.

The corners of her mouth twitched up. “Threatened you? With what? You were always bigger than him.”

“He said he’d end our friendship.”

“Liam’s friendship meant that much to you?”

“Being with your family meant that much to me.” His time with the McBrides had been his escape when things got ugly between his parents. Meg’s family talked to him without giving him the third degree, expecting him to rat out the other parent, depending on which one was asking. At Christmas, while the McBrides gathered around their tree, he’d been dragged to destinations one parent had picked to make it difficult for the other to visit. Now his relationship with them had devolved into awkwardly polite phone calls on birthdays and holidays.

She lifted a tag attached to the bear’s ear. “I don’t believe it.”

“What?” Did he leave the price tag on?

“It says his name is Jasper.” She sounded incredulous.

“That’s what made me think of it.”

“You remembered my bear’s name was Jasper?” she whispered and her eyes lit up.

“I wanted to fix it and give it back to you, but I had no clue how, and anyway Liam would’ve known it was me...” He shrugged.

She gave him a smile that made the embarrassment worth it.

They’d reached the nurses’ station and Meg signed the paperwork, took the small bag of meds Jan handed her and began marching toward the exit before his brain kicked back into gear. With a nod to the nurses gawking at him from behind the counter, he caught up to Meg and placed his hand against the small of her back.

“Why was she giving you her phone number?” Meg increased her pace, but his stride was longer and he easily kept up and maintained contact as they exited the building.

“Who?” He pulled his keys out of his pocket with his free hand, the other still planted against her back.

“Ellie Harding. I saw her giving you that slip of paper.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder and settled the teddy bear in the crook of her arm.

She must mean the confirmation number. Where was she going with this? “What paper?”

“The one you put in your pocket.” She stopped short, but he managed not to mow her down. “Don’t try to deny it. I saw it.”

“According to you, all I am is a neighbor.” He kept his tone casual, not wanting her to know how she’d hurt him by denying their connection. “So why would you even care?”

“Pfft.” She restarted her brisk pace through the parking lot. “I don’t.”

“And yet you mentioned it.”

She shook her head. “Forget I said anything.”

He opened the passenger door. “That’s hard to do since you insist on talking about it.”

“I’m not talking.”

“Then what is that thing you’re doing with your mouth?” He cocked an eyebrow, knowing his ability to lift one would bug her. She’d been around twelve when he’d caught her practicing in front of a mirror, trying and failing to imitate him by raising just one eyebrow. He shouldn’t be goading her, but falling back into their good-natured teasing felt good and helped melt away some of the distance the years had wedged between them.

She rolled her eyes at him, and the rays from the sun sitting low on the horizon fell on her face, causing the amber ring circling her pupils to glow. He’d never met another woman with eyes as beautifully sexy as hers.

“I love your eyes.” He hadn’t meant to say that, but the words had catapulted from his mouth like a fighter jet off the deck of a carrier. He might not have set out to say anything like that, but he wasn’t sorry.

“Wha-what?”

Placing his thumb under her jaw, he closed her mouth. “I was remarking on your eyes.”

She stuck her chin out. “The medical term is sectoral heterochromia.”

He understood what she was saying, or rather, what she wasn’t saying. Her reaction reminded him of his when the doctors talked about his survivor’s guilt. “People like to label things.”

“Kids made fun. Said I had freckles in my eyes. Except—” she clutched the bear tighter, but didn’t look away “—you. You never did.”

“I was too busy teasing you about this red hair.” He ran his fingers through the soft, springy curls.

“It’s not red.” She glared at him, but her lips twitched, telling him she wasn’t angry. “It’s golden copper. How many times do I have to tell you that?”

“Golden copper, huh?” He wrapped a curl around his index finger, gave a gentle tug and let go, grinning when the corkscrew sprang back. “Sure looks red to me.”

“Well, there’s a difference.” She brushed the hair off her face. “And you’d know that if you’d been paying attention.”

“Oh, I paid attention, Meggie. As a matter of fact, I—”

An ambulance, its sirens blaring and lights flashing, passed and he followed its progress as it pulled under the portico of the emergency entrance. When he turned back, she was watching the ambulance, her brows drawn together over the bridge of her nose. He smoothed his thumb over the deep grooves. “Let’s go.”