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  "The arthritis."

  Chandi’s wrinkled face softened. For some strange reason, Megan thought of a wet ball of cotton. "You should see me on the days my knees are acting up."

  "The price of living past your expiration date."

  Chandi picked up a cup of tea from the tray.

  "Thank you, Jane. You know, I’m surprised you’re still here. I mean, after Megan left."

  Chandi left the comment open in the air. Megan settled her teeth in her tongue, figuring a hole in it wouldn’t be too bad, especially from the way Jane was eyeing her. The look said a wooden spoon would be involved—and not for Megan to lick icing—if she acted up.

  "Nicole still needed me," Jane replied.

  "Oh, I almost forgot. The poor thing can’t cook worth a lick."

  Jane straightened, brushing her apron straight. "She probably wouldn’t have eaten." She met Megan’s eyes. "And she’d have been fine with that, too, if I hadn’t been here. You two have a good talk."

  Chandi nodded at Jane and turned her attention to Megan. "I forgot about the depression. When she broke things off with Taylor, you’d already left for college. It was such a bad time for your mother." Chandi sank her false teeth into a crumpet.

  "Really." Megan wasn’t sure whether she was more surprised by the comment or by the fact her aunt’s teeth didn’t fall out.

  "I don’t think she was ever over Dan’s death. That time period—it hit her hard." Another bite, and still her teeth stayed. "I don’t see why she missed him. Every bone in his body was sarcastic. When my nephew was younger, we nicknamed him the Comeback Kid. Everything you said to him, he had something smart to say." Chandi smiled when she said it.

  Megan’s chest tightened at the mention of her father. His death had been so long ago no one said his name out loud anymore. "I don’t remember him very well. At least not the details."

  "Just go look in the mirror. When you wake up in the morning, talk real deep. You’ll probably sound just like him. Scary, if you ask me." Chandi frowned.

  Not a good look for the woman. "I wonder if she put butter in these."

  "I’m sure she did," Megan murmured.

  She pushed down the urge to touch the walls to feel close to her father. He’d spent the last years of his life here, before cancer took him. She remembered being shipped off repeatedly to Jocelyn’s house. She remembered hating her mother for separating them and only letting her see him that one last time. His hand had been so small, no longer resembling the ones that threw her in the air when she was a child. Most recently she remembered talking to a grave. Megan’s breath shuddered out at the memory. She wanted the house but not the residual grief. When would that go away?

  "I don’t know why I was surprised to hear Shep had proposed. The man had a thing for your mother in high school. He went off to college, and when he came back your mother was married and you weren’t far behind." Chandi snorted.

  A ladylike snort, of course, Megan thought, trying to pull herself out of the dark thoughts. "Can I ask you a nosy question?"

  "Nope, but I’m sure you’re going to anyway."

  Megan smiled at her aunt. "Why are you here? My dad’s gone."

  Chandi frowned at her. "Nicole’s family." From the expression on her face, Chandi was wondering why Megan didn’t understand it.

  "Just curious."

  The doorbell rang and Jane shouted from the kitchen that she’d get it. Megan settled farther onto the couch when she heard Uncle Willie’s baritone voice. Chandi rolled her eyes. Megan remembered what her mother frequently said about family: At least you can say there is never a dull moment.

  *****

  Aiden stretched his legs out in front of him and watched Shep get wrestled into a monkey suit. "And you talk about me," he said.

  Shep scowled at him in the mirror. "This is different."

  "Explain to me what’s different between what I’m doing and you getting into a suit—mind you, something you haven’t worn since Dan’s funeral. Who’s the smartest out of the bunch?"

  "Neither one of you," his Uncle Butch said from the corner. He talked around the unlit cigar in his mouth. Until the wedding and Butch’s departure, Aiden had to give up the ultimate bachelor title to his uncle.

  "From what I hear, you won’t learn, and you," he pointed a finger at Shep, "Just lost all rational thought. It’s not like Nicole’s pregnant and you have to get married."

  "That’s an ugly image. Thanks, Unc."

  Butch rolled the cigar to the other side of his mouth. "Don’t get me started on you, boy. The thrill should have been long gone for you with that girl."

  "Her name is Megan," Aiden said softly.

  Butch puffed his chest. "Excuse me."

  Shep sighed. "Maybe he’ll take some pointers from you."

  Only if Aiden planned to never have Megan talk to him again. He scowled at Shep’s back but spoke to his uncle. "What are you doing here, anyway? It’s not like you need a suit."

  "I’m trying to talk some sense into my brother. If that doesn’t work, at least we’ll make him look decent when he walks down the aisle."

  "I know how to dress myself." Shep turned to the side, frowning at his reflection.

  "Judging from the plaid shirt you had on earlier, I’d disagree. Ain’t thinking with your head, if you ask me."

  Aiden bit back the chuckle. He saw where Shep got his bickering, heavy-handed, advising ways. This could only get more interesting. Knowing his uncle, Aiden asked, "What’s wrong with marriage?"

  "It’s death for any man." A pained expression crossed Butch’s face. "Why do you think women live longer?"

  He pulled the cigar out of his mouth, on a roll now. "Because the moment the man signs his marriage certificate, he’s signed his own death warrant. I’m sure there have been studies."

  "Butch." Shep met his brother’s eyes in the mirror. "That’s absurd." Aiden thought Shep might as well have added, "You’re absurd." Aiden crossed his arms, waiting for the argument. It never failed.

  "I’ll be at your funeral in ten years."

  "What’s to say you’re going to live any longer?" The gloves were off now, as Shep turned to Butch. "You smoke, you drink, you’ve gone through all the women at your living facility. One of them is bound to shoot you, any day now." Shep shook his head as he tried to tie the bow.

  "Nonsense. I haven’t gone through all the women. New ones come in every day." Butch replied, as if he hadn’t heard the rest. Aiden figured his uncle probably hadn’t.

  "Good living," Butch added.

  Aiden grinned. The heat was off him, finally, and because it was, he asked, "When is Uncle Bobby going to make it?"

  "That fool." Butch didn’t hold back his venom for his other brother. "He’s the best example of what marriage can do to a man. Marriage-addled brain, I tell you. The man can’t go to the bathroom without his wife’s permission." He pointed his finger, this time at Aiden. "Don’t do it. It’s death."

  "Shut up, Butch, and help me with this tie."

  "Be fitting if it chokes you," Butch said but went over to his brother to help him. "Think a grown man would have more sense than this. Marriage!" His uncle shuddered as if he had a bad taste in his mouth.

  "See, son, this is a bachelor-addled brain." Shep lifted his head higher. "I’m not saying do anything. Matter of fact, you better not do anything. I’m just pointing out what can happen."

  Aiden bit back the laughter. "Duly noted."

  "Don’t chastise the boy for dipping. It’s natural at his age."

  "The dipping isn’t what I have a problem with, and must we be so crude?"

  Butch stared at him, then shook his head slowly. "Addled. Marriage. Save yourself from it. Dip and dip only."

  "Only with my chicken wings. Back to Uncle Bobby, Mom is willing to have him and his wife stay at her place."

  "And where am I supposed to stay?"

  Aiden sighed. "You can stay with me, but I’m telling you now—the alcohol is for the party."
r />   Butch patted Shep’s chest. "I promise to steal only two bottles."

  "None."

  "The Bacardi. I hear Chandi’s here."

  "No," both Aiden and Shep said.

  "I wouldn’t do anything Jesus wouldn’t do. Just lay hands on her."

  "Adding blasphemy to ignorance," Shep pointed out, but he sighed.

  Aiden laughed. The bickering had only just begun. Man, he loved his family.

  *****

  Twelve freaking days. Megan leaned against the door to her bedroom. How would she survive it? She’d hidden in her room for the last two days, only leaving for meals. She couldn’t escape, and those meals had seemed to last for hours. She placed a clammy hand over the tic in her left eye. Deep breaths. It’s only family, she told herself again. She stilled and placed her ear to the door, hearing them in the hallway. They were coming for her.

  She dived for the bed and pulled the covers up to her neck. The knock at the door resembled her heart beating against her rib cage. "Come in," she said, forcing the rasp in her voice to stay there.

  Hoping it would stay there.

  Chandi came in first, with a tray, then Aunt Bette tsking and tutting. Nicole trailed in with her arms crossed. Her mother wasn’t buying her "sickness," but Nicole still hadn’t ratted Megan out. She was starting to like her mother. Her stomach cramped. Maybe playing sick had really made her sick.

  "How are you feeling today, sweetheart?" Bette asked.

  "A little better." She made her voice small. Nicole turned up her lip, but she didn’t say anything. "Really, I’m fine, if I can get some sleep."

  "Here, you need to eat for your strength. Don’t want you sick on the wedding day."

  These women were really nice when they weren’t scouring over every detail of her life, most importantly her love life and, most annoyingly, what she planned to do now that Aiden was back in her life. She wanted to tell them, "Screw his brains out if we could ever be alone again," but that would only be opening herself up to more questions. These women didn’t seem to be deterred by her cussing.

  "I’ll feed her," Nicole offered.

  "I think I can manage on my own."

  "Nonsense," Bette said. "You’ll probably spill it all over the good comforter. Let your mother help you."

  Mom might shove the spoon down my throat, Megan almost replied. "Thanks, Mother." She coughed for effect. Nicole rolled her eyes again. Her mother waited until the women left the room before she spoke.

  "I should spoon you to death for leaving me alone with them."

  This was the last thing she expected her mother to say. Megan’s only reply was, "What?"

  Nicole sighed. "They are our family. I love them, but they can be…" Nicole paused, searching for the word. "Overwhelming."

  Megan sat up. "You invited them."

  "To the wedding. To come and see you, since they haven’t seen you in a while."

  The blame was there, and it pissed her off more than being interrogated by family members. She tried to bite the anger back, but it was there, glowing, hot, and ready to spew. Had it been waiting? Probably. "What did you say when I left?"

  "You went to college." Nicole said it as if it were a no-brainer.

  "Did you tell them why I left?"

  Nicole picked up the spoon.

  Megan held up her hand. "You lied to them, didn’t you? You want them to believe I just woke up one morning and decided to go to college a thousand miles away from here."

  "You’re here now."

  "And I bet they know the only reason why I’m here."

  The spoon clattered against the bowl.

  "Everyone knows that, but no one knows how Taylor cornered me, tried to feel me up, and offered me sex, so he could have two for the price of one." Megan’s voice rose. She should have seen her anger coming the moment things felt fine and good, just when Megan was starting to think she could forgive her mother.

  "Let’s not forget how my mother called me a liar when I told her. Why isn’t that in the gossip mill? Why isn’t anyone asking me about the real reason why I left?"

  When an answer didn’t come, Megan kept talking. "You owe me, and that’s why you’re giving me the house. It’s not because you’ve changed. You’re feeling guilty." Megan moved away from her mother, needing the space, and the truth finally hit her. "You’re buying my silence."

  Nicole folded her hands in her lap. "I’m not trying to buy you. What I want from you doesn’t have a price tag." Nicole let out a breath. "That’s not why I’m giving you the house."

  "You’re not giving it to me. You are making me stay here for your wedding. To Shep," Megan said softly. "Does he know?"

  Nicole’s silence told her the answer. "You make me sick. It makes me physically ill to know I’m your daughter."

  "You don’t mean it. You’re angry right now." Megan raised her brow. "Can you hear me out?"

  Megan looked heavenward. "No. So you can explain to me why I should let others think I’m cold-hearted, for your benefit? So you can tell me how it’s more understanding to let my family think I left on a whim, when it’s much more serious than that?" Megan shook her head in disbelief. "There is nothing you can say. I’m here for the house, and that’s it."

  Megan went for the door, not caring that she was supposed to be sick.

  "And Aiden?"

  Her hand stilled on the knob. "Weren’t you warning me off from him? What is it now? You want me to be with him?"

  Megan heard the frustration in her mother’s intake of breath. "If you don’t listen to anything else I tell you…" She hesitated. "Don’t lead him on. If you don’t plan to be with him, tell him."

  "I have. Not that it’s your business."

  Megan flew down the stairs, thinking her exits like this were beginning to become a habit. She closed the front door on Chandi’s and Bette’s voices in the living room. Megan tensed again when she saw the green truck parked next to her mother’s car. Her mother was wrong about this, too. If Nicole knew about the ache in Megan’s chest, the fluttering in her stomach, and how she got dizzy after every kiss, Nicole would understand it wasn’t Aiden who stood to lose the most.

  She’d always had the most to lose and, yes, it burned, a lot, that no one else saw it the way she did. No one seemed to notice how well things bounced off Aiden. The threat of a million family members descending on his city, and Aiden took it in stride and humor. Bumping heads with his ex-girlfriend, he seemed impenetrable.

  Megan was a ball of nerves and tics. Not knowing how to act around him. Hiding in her room from her family. Maybe sometime in the next millennium she’d forgive her mother for choosing a man over her. Aiden would have handled it all with a shrug and a smile. He would have moved on, forgiving everyone. He should have woodland creatures fluttering around him, and a fairy godfather. God, god. Everyone else might have shied away from her in the mood brewing beneath the surface, but here he was.

  Aiden came toward her with a smile, and her heart thudded in her chest. That was the most precious thing she had to lose. Why could no one but her see it?

  "Get me out of here."

  The smile transformed into a frown. "Okay."

  Chapter 14

  Only one thing made Megan this tense—her mother. This was more than the she’s-on-my-back type of tension, because the city limits were behind them and Megan was still mute. He’d always known the women had their differences, but what mother and daughter didn’t? Yet something in their relationship was fractured and refused to heal.

  "Are you going to tell me?" He slowed the car and took the unpaved exit on Dead Man’s Curve.

  She rolled down her window. "Nicole’s thwacked out, and that’s the usual." She blew out a frustrated breath. "I thought since I was older things would be different between us. I’d have a real mother who wouldn’t try to foist off responsibility on me."

  Megan laughed. Aiden didn’t see the humor.

  "What is she asking you to do?" His hands tightened on the steering wheel
. He wanted to look at her, but he kept his eyes on the road.

  "She wants me to stay mum about why I left. You’d think she wouldn’t care what people would think. It was twelve years ago. Who cares if her fiancé then tried to feel me up?"

  Aiden stamped his foot on the brakes. "He what?"

  Megan frowned. "I thought I told you."

  Aiden stared at the small path ahead. He could only go forward until they hit the break in the trees. "I didn’t know he touched you. She kicked you out over that?"

  Megan nodded. "Is this where we were going?"

  He lifted his foot off the brake, now understanding why she called Nicole Mother, such a formal way to reference one of the most important women in a person’s life. The cop part of him saw both sides of the story. Nicole was embarrassed. It sure as hell didn’t excuse her. He chanced a glance at Megan. She was leaning back against the seat with her eyes closed. The breeze from the open window pushed back her hair, but she didn’t bother to put it back.

  For the first time, he allowed himself to wonder about the years she’d been away from him. What had it been like to know you couldn’t come back home? What was it like to know that if you did, the only welcome you’d get would be cold? All from the people you loved the most.

  He couldn’t imagine. His family was everything to him, no matter how dysfunctional they were on any given day. Hell, since his mind was going down that road, he wondered if she even knew what being around family felt like. Maybe that was the reason why her first words had been, "Get me out of here," instead of, "Come in and join us."

  These thoughts put Megan in a new light. It made him want more to share what he had, which was a bad thing. Wasn’t it? She was leaving her family, her hometown and him again in less than two weeks. None of those things stopped him from parking at the edge of the lake, turning up his radio, and pulling her out of the car. He kept her close, making sure every part of their bodies touched. It felt only right as Bobby Blue Bland blended into Otis Redding.

  She asked, "What’s gotten into you?"

  He answered truthfully, no holds barred, "You." And how right it felt for her head to curve into his neck. He held her close, wanting her to feel how she made him feel.