The Bride Said, 'Surprise!'

How well Meg remembered that. Through high school, college and into grad school, she had dated a lot of different guys. Many of those dates had ended with goodnight kisses. But none had ever been like that. Meg suspected, there might never be again. But that was just chemistry, and the chemistry between them had ruined their friendship and nearly wrecked both their lives. Would have, if Meg had allowed Luke’s guilt over their lovemaking to break up his relationship with Gwyneth. But she had done what she had to do then, just as she would do what she had to do now. “It was a long time ago,” Meg said wearily. She dropped the sanding block onto the bench.

“I agree.” Luke stood, arms folded in front of him, legs braced apart. “What I don’t understand is why you’re still acting as if it just happened yesterday. Why, years later, are you avoiding me like the plague?”

Meg wiped her hands on the rag she’d stuck in the waistband of her shorts. She turned away. Doing her best to quell the growing heat in her cheeks, she studied the quarter acre of tidy green lawn that separated her two-bedroom “guest cottage” from the much bigger “main house” next door. Once all part of the same residence, the two properties had been split up years before and sold to different owners, then sold again. “Because I am ashamed and humiliated by the way I behaved,” Meg said.

Luke lifted a brow. “Because you’re human? Because you’re a woman? Because you were reeling with grief and acted impulsively?” As Meg turned back to face him, he studied her implacably. “Or is it something more that has made you keep me at arm’s length?” he continued, giving her the slow once-over. “Like Jeremy.”

Meg swallowed around the sudden knot of emotion in her throat and tried to still the sudden trembling of her heart. “My son has nothing to do with my feelings about that night,” Meg replied firmly. “Or you.”

“Where is he?” Luke asked, his voice taking on a protective, parental quality Meg didn’t like one bit.

Her confidence at being able to handle this situation, simply by steering clear of Luke as much as possible, wavered. “He’s still asleep.”

“And his father?” Luke grilled Meg deliberately.

“Where is he?”

Meg knew what Luke was driving at. She put up a hand to prevent Luke from asking any more questions. He ignored her and pushed on anyway.

“When exactly was Jeremy born, Meg?”

That, she could answer. “Eight months after my parents died, on December first.”

Silence fell between them. Disappointment flashed across Luke’s face. “Meaning his father is that guy you almost married—Kip Brewster,” he said, almost sadly. Anguish glimmered in his golden-brown eyes. “And not me.”

Meg’s shoulders stiffened as she stared at the light dusting of sandy-brown hair on Luke’s arms. Guilt and confusion filled her heart. She was tempted to confess all, to lean on Luke’s broad shoulders and inherently gallant and romantic nature once again. But even as she was tempted, she knew Luke and knew she couldn’t do it. Luke was the kind of selfless-to-a-fault man who took his obligations seriously. He was quick to help anyone and everyone else out. The fallout came later when the good intentions in his head did not match the feelings in his heart. How quickly—and irrevocably—she had learned that.

She had decided what was right years ago. Amid much attempted interference from family and friends, she had taken responsibility for her actions and stuck to her guns in protecting her son from the kind of hurt and rejection she had suffered. She wasn’t going to change direction now. Reminding herself that she was protecting everyone with her silence, Meg lifted her head indignantly. “Haven’t you heard? I don’t discuss Jeremy’s father with anyone. I never have and never will.” Life was so much simpler that way. She and Jeremy weren’t a burden to anyone.

Still studying her bluntly, he took another step closer. “Surely your sisters know the truth.”

They all certainly wanted to know, Meg thought, as feelings of guilt and remorse hit her anew. “If my sisters knew the identity of Jeremy’s father they would be on that man’s doorstep in a red-hot Texas second, demanding he step up to the gate and do right by us whether he wanted to or not.” And that Meg couldn’t allow. Especially after all this time had passed.

Luke’s brow furrowed. “What’s wrong with that?”

“What’s wrong with it is that I know what it’s like to be suddenly shouldered with the care and responsibility of another human being,” she said curtly.

Luke’s glance softened. “Which is what happened when you became the legal guardian to your sisters,” he noted compassionately.

Despite herself, Meg warmed to the understanding in Luke’s low, sensual tone. The goodness in him was what had made them such fast friends in the beginning and kept her from hurting him and his family later. Taking the cloth rag from her belt, she wiped down the bench, checked for splinters, found none. “I love my sisters and I was glad to do it,” she admitted with gut-wrenching honesty, “but I’d be lying if I said there weren’t times when I resented having such enormous responsibility thrust on me that way.”

“Did you feel that way about Jeremy, too?”

Meg sank down on the bench, grappling with her feelings all the while. She wasn’t sure why. She just knew she wanted Luke to realize how confused and distraught she’d been back then. “From the first moment I realized I was pregnant, I was happy about having a baby,” she admitted slowly, overcome with an onslaught of feeling.

“But I was also dismayed,” she continued softly. Shaking her head, she stood, slid her hands into the deep pockets of her khaki walking shorts and began to pace away from Luke. “The timing was all wrong. I wasn’t married. I wasn’t ready for a baby.” She whirled back toward Luke.

“I had to sell the family ranch and settle the debts and deal with my sisters and help them get over their grief, and all the while try to manage my own sadness, which was darn near completely overwhelming.” Meg paused and lifted her eyes to Luke’s. “I just…I couldn’t take on any more back then.” If she’d had to deal with the immensely complicated situation regarding Jeremy’s father, she wouldn’t have made it, that she knew.

Luke trod closer. “Jeremy’s father could have helped you cope,” he said quietly.

As always, when this subject was introduced, Meg felt her defenses come up. “He also could have sued me for custody. Or gone overboard to help and then later resented me and Jeremy for the disruption we caused in his life.” Neither option had been wanted. Meg hadn’t been able to bear the idea of Jeremy’s presence hurting anyone, for fear Jeremy’d realize he wasn’t wanted the way he deserved to be wanted by absolutely everyone.

Luke studied her. “You think Jeremy’s father would have done that?”

Meg shrugged, abruptly feeling as confused and helpless as she had back then. “That’s the point. I didn’t know what his reaction might be under the circumstances.” Never mind his wife’s. “And I didn’t want to find out the hard way, especially if it meant Jeremy—and others—would be hurt in the process. I had all I could do to take care of my parents’ estate, my sisters, my baby and myself. There was no room in my life for a man who was never meant to be with me and who didn’t want or plan this child, either.”

Luke frowned. He massaged the muscles on the back of his neck. “I think you’re not giving Kip Brewster enough credit. I know the two of you parted badly, but you must have liked something about him—you two dated for months and even talked about getting married—and, from what I remember, he seemed like a decent guy.”

On the surface, that was true, Meg knew. Kip was from a wealthy Texas family. Bright and articulate, he had always behaved like a perfect gentleman and treated Meg with care. It was what Kip was capable of behind the scenes that had led to their breakup. But again, that wasn’t the kind of personal angst and drama Meg shared with anyone. It was bad enough she knew what a complete fool Kip had made of her, without letting everyone else know how deeply she had been humiliated. And that especially included Luke. For some reason Meg couldn’t quite put her finger on, she didn’t want Luke knowing how truly clueless she had been back then. And because Kip had been in the university law school, Meg and Luke in the medical and nursing schools, there was no reason Luke should ever know, no reason Kip’s and Luke’s paths should ever cross again. Especially since Kip had never even been to Laramie. And he and Meg hadn’t had contact since she left Chicago.

“I never said Jeremy’s father was Kip,” Meg said, piqued.

“Are you saying he isn’t then?” Luke probed.

Warmth climbed from Meg’s neck into her face. “I’m not saying anything other than that Kip Brewster has no business in this matter, period,” Meg insisted stubbornly, and saw the hollows beneath Luke’s cheekbones grow more pronounced. Clearly, he disapproved of the way she had handled this situation from the start. Which was something else Meg didn’t need—Luke’s condemnation.

Luke stared at Meg as if he no longer had the slightest clue who she was. “I gather this means your son has no idea who his father is, either,” he said grimly.

Meg’s feelings on that were firm. “Why fill his head with stories of someone who will never be able to be a father to him? It would only make him want something he could never have.” Having secretly been in love with the same man for most of her adult life, Meg knew what that was like. It wasn’t fun.

Silence fell as Luke continued to study her without a hint of apology. “I can see you’re trying to help,” Meg said finally, a little in awe of his tenacity.

“I never stopped caring what happened to you, Meg.”

Nor had she ever stopped caring what happened to Luke, Meg thought. But that changed nothing. Every time she was near him, every time she looked at him, she couldn’t help but recall what it had been like to pour out her heart to him and make love to him like there was no tomorrow. Only to see his regret and realize—when the new day dawned, emotions subsided and common sense returned—that he did not feel the same way about her. She had never been so devastated. She couldn’t—wouldn’t—let the same thing happen to her son.

“Look, we can be neighbors and co-workers. But we can’t pretend what happened did not occur because it did.” And consequently her life had never been—would never be—the same.

Luke’s gaze narrowed in silent challenge. “That stand-offish attitude of yours is going to make our lives mighty difficult,” he drawled with easy familiarity.

Every muscle in her body was stiff with tension. “And why would that be?”

Luke gave her a goading smile. Desire, pure and simple, was in his eyes. “Because in about half an hour my three little girls and I are moving in next door.”

FINALLY, LUKE NOTED, he had Meg’s full attention. It sure hadn’t been easy getting it. She had been treating him like an outcast from the moment he arrived in Laramie a week ago, ducking whenever she saw him, only smiling or absently greeting him when she simply could not get around it.

Given the way they’d parted, her refusal to talk to him since, he couldn’t say he’d expected her to greet him with open arms. He’d known the moment they’d actually come face-to-face again that she was no less stubborn or self-reliant. She said she forgave him for giving in to her grief, confusion and need, but she didn’t act as if she’d forgiven him. She acted as if she resented him more than ever.

The part of him that said he didn’t need this—feeling unwanted and unnecessary—was tempted to turn away and let her and the son he’d thought, hoped for one brief incredibly happy moment was his be, just as they had been. The other part of him, the stronger, more noble side, wanted to hang in there, find a way to get past Meg’s hurt and wariness, forget the night that had ended their friendship and find their way back to each other again. Meg needed a confidante and companion as much as he did. Maybe more.

He had hoped, of course, that Meg already would have reached the same conclusion by the time he actually arrived in Laramie. He had hoped enough time would have passed for her to simply meet him halfway. Unfortunately, it hadn’t happened. So he’d been left to take matters into his own hands and seek her out at a time when they were both away from the hospital and could say whatever needed to be said privately and be done with it.

Once again he’d been surprised. Not just by her continued resistance to get close again, but also by her impact on him in a physical sense. He’d met a lot of women in his life, dated more than a few of them, and he’d never wanted any of them the way he wanted Meg Lockhart. To his amazement, during the half dozen years they had been apart, that feeling had only increased. And not just because Meg still had the same easy good looks, inherent gentleness and unconscious spunk and sexiness that had turned his life upside down from the get-go. Yes, she was still as drop-dead gorgeous as ever—even in demure shorts, blouse and white tennis shoes. Her dark-auburn hair was as thick and glossy as ever, and she still liked to wear the thick loose waves swept up in a loose, tousled knot on the back of her head. But his attraction to her went far beyond her mesmerizing aqua-blue eyes, full, soft lips and enticing curves that had been made even lusher and more womanly with the birth of her first and only child. He was attracted to her for the way she made him feel. He had only to look into her eyes to know how special was the immediate emotional connection that once allowed them to become friends. And one day soon, Luke promised himself silently, Meg would realize their attraction needed to be explored. One day soon they’d start over and get to know each other the way they should have the first time. Not just as friends, but as friends and lovers.

“What about your wife?” Meg asked.

Luke tensed as the talk turned to his marriage and that unhappy time of his life. Meg wasn’t the only one who had a romantic life full of regrets she’d rather not dwell on—he had made his share of mistakes in that arena, too, that could not be undone. Like Meg, Luke thought, all he could do was move on. “Gwyneth died two years ago, in a car crash,” he said quietly.