She has his eyes.

Her mother has his heart.

Years have passed since marine sergeant Riley Cooper last held his best friend’s sister in his arms. Bound for Afghanistan, he believed walking away from Meg McBride was the kindest thing he could do. Now that he’s home, he doesn’t blame Meggie for hating him. But she hasn’t told him everything. And he hasn’t met the little red-haired girl whose gray eyes so resemble his own...

CARRIE NICHOLS grew up in New England, but moved south and traded snow for central AC. She loves to travel, is addicted to British crime dramas and knows a Seinfeld quote appropriate for every occasion.

A 2016 RWA Golden Heart® winner and two-time Maggie Award for Excellence winner, she has one tolerant husband, two grown sons and two critical cats. To her dismay, Carrie’s characters—like her family—often ignore the wisdom and guidance she offers.

The Marine’s Secret Daughter

Carrie Nichols

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-07731-6

THE MARINE’S SECRET DAUGHTER

© 2018 Carol Opalinski

Published in Great Britain 2018

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

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Version: 2020-03-02

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This is for my very own heroes,

John, Alex and Michael, and for the heroines

who love them, Jess and Caitlin.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Extract

Chapter One

The truth could be inconvenient, but he’d be damned if he’d give those doctors the satisfaction of being right.

Riley Cooper slammed the door of his truck and rolled his shoulder to work out the stiffness, but all that time on the road without anything stronger than ibuprofen hadn’t helped. The doc had prescribed Percocet, but the meds made him drowsy. And the way he figured it, taking the drugs would be an easy out, considering the pain his buddies had died with, and their families still lived with. At the base hospital, they’d prodded and poked him and labeled his condition survivor’s guilt. The way they’d said condition had him grinding his molars. They wanted guilt? Being tucked away in the tranquil mountains of Vermont instead of Afghanistan, leading his men—now that was guilt.

The therapist had told him, You need to take time to heal your body and clear your head before I can sign off on your return to combat. Take thirty days, Sergeant, and maybe I’ll consider putting you back in theater.

Riley’s fist tightened around the key as the therapist’s words swirled in his head like debris kicked up from helicopter rotor wash. His shoulder was healing, and except for the occasional ringing in his ears, he was good. Damn good. He needed to get back to Afghanistan, to his men, to his life, not spend time in the back of beyond, losing his edge. He wasn’t himself here in this peaceful town, but on the battlefield, he had a purpose, a reason to do what he was doing and men to protect.

Vegas for R&R had been an option, but summers spent at Loon Lake with the McBrides were treasured memories from his childhood. Warm days spent with Liam exploring the woods, building forts, swimming. All with Liam’s younger sister, Meggie, trailing behind. Coming to the lake wouldn’t bring those days back, but this place might provide some measure of comfort.

The two cottages were one hundred yards from the main road and surrounded on three sides by trees, making it seem as if they were the only buildings in the wilderness. A shared driveway meant one entrance for vehicles, easy to guard and—

Chill, Marine, you’re not on duty.

He stood in the driveway of his rented cottage and stared next door. With its open porch and natural clapboard siding, the neighboring cottage mirrored this one except for its state of disrepair, which confirmed what he’d heard. The McBrides had not used the cottage after Mrs. McBride’s death. But as far as he knew, widower Mac still owned the place, unlike Riley’s parents, who’d sold theirs during the divorce because each couldn’t stand the thought of the other one having it. The way he figured it, the cottage came out ahead.

Two bright red Adirondack chairs on the porch across the yard caught his attention. Strange. Those chairs appeared freshly painted. He scanned the area, searching for other anomalies. An engine noise sent him into a crouch until he realized it was an outboard motor; not surprising since the lake was beyond the trees.

Stand down, Marine, there are no armed insurgents in Loon Lake.

He cursed under his breath. Even here, in this placid setting, the vigilance remained. He still felt the initial numbness from the blast wave, the acrid cordite stinging his nose, Private Trejo’s screams filling his ears.

He took a deep breath and held it before releasing. No smoke. No burning flesh. Just clean air and evergreens. Situation normal.

Last time he’d been here, his head had been filled with Meghan McBride, not hostiles. But that was before, and if nothing else, Afghanistan had shown him what he was capable of. He’d seen too much, done too much, and would never be the man Meggie had once loved. He sighed and stretched his neck.

He turned his back on the McBrides’ vacation home, shoved those thoughts into a box marked “regrets” and locked it tight. A bit of time to heal and he’d be on his way...back to where life had a purpose. When he was in a mine-resistant armored carrier, scouting routes for vehicle convoys or picking spots for marine units to bivouac overnight in the field, thinking about Meggie had kept him company and provided a sweet torture. Three years after enlisting and leaving Meggie behind, he’d returned for his Gran’s funeral and discovered the skinny girl he’d spent summers with had morphed into a young woman.

He batted away a persistent gnat and inserted the key into the lock, wincing when he picked up the duffel. The cottage smelled like lemon oil and pine-scented cleaner. Despite the short notice, the rental agent had come through on her promise of getting the place cleaned, but hints of past summers wafted around him. He tossed his bag onto the brown leather sofa, removed his desert camo cover and dropped the cap onto the tan canvas duffel.

In the kitchen he checked to see if the cleaning lady had stocked the few staples he’d requested. Sure enough, the refrigerator had milk, eggs and cold cuts, and the cupboards held canned goods and bread. He’d be set for a few days. One of the reasons he’d chosen Loon Lake was its remoteness. He’d be alone here, just him and a couple of bottles of Jack Daniel’s if his mind insisted on tracking back to Meggie.

I never thought you’d take advantage of my sister’s crush on you.

Liam McBride’s incensed accusations echoed in his head like explosive antitank shells. He’d been six months into his first deployment when Liam had left those angry voice mails. But then five years had passed without another word.

Meggie represented his biggest regret. He could’ve—no, make that should’ve—ended things more gently, tried harder to make her understand. And frankly, he should regret spending that one glorious night with her. But he didn’t.

He cursed once more under his breath. This R&R was mandatory if he wanted to get back to the real world, but the next thirty days stretched before him, dark and dense, like the forest blocking his view of the lake. Maybe he should’ve done Vegas.

A strong musty odor drew him across the kitchen to the open basement door. Before shutting it, he glanced down the stairs—What the...?

A woman sat on the bottom step, her back to him and a laundry basket on her lap, her back moving as she struggled to breathe.

“Hello? Ma’am?” Something was familiar in her movement. He took a couple steps down. “Ma’am?”

The slight figure stiffened but didn’t turn around or respond. Riley clattered down the stairs, squeezing past and squatting in front of her. “Ma’am, are you—Meggie?”

His gaze froze on her green eyes, and adrenaline surged through him. What was Meg doing in his rental cabin? In his mind she’d gone on to teach elementary school in Boston. His gut clenched.

“Riley? What are you—” She began coughing and gasping, holding her chest, her wheezing more than audible.

She was sick and needed help. He commanded his emotions to stand down. “Is it your asthma?”

He’d known Meg suffered from the condition, even witnessed an attack or two in the past, but that didn’t stop his stupid heart from racing.

“Just...catching...my breath.” She coughed a few more times, her breathing labored. “What...are you...doing here?”

He pulled the laundry basket away and, ignoring her gasped cries of protest, tossed it aside.

“Hey, those towels were...clean.” She managed to get on her feet.

He grabbed her arm to steady her. “Forget the laundry. Where’s your medicine?”

God, she was prettier than he’d remembered—fantasized about—with curly red hair, green eyes with stunning flecks of hazel and gold, and thin, elegant hands, but her body now had the well-rounded curves of a woman. She dug into the pocket of her Red Sox hoodie, produced an inhaler and held it up.

As he’d done in Afghanistan, he tried to bury everything to focus on the mission. But this was more than a mission. This was Meggie. He gentled his grip on her arm. “Why aren’t you using it?”

She shook the L-shaped canister and winced. “Empty.”

The musty air was thin and even he had the urge to cough. “Let’s get you upstairs and into some fresh air.”

“Thanks.” Shoving the inhaler back into her pocket, she swayed. Her wheezing had increased and she grew paler by the minute, but she eyed the basket of laundry as if she meant to bring it upstairs, too.

“I’ll get that later.” He studied her pale face, searching for a glimpse of the young woman he’d left behind, but this Meggie was all grown up, and her green eyes sparked with emotions he couldn’t decipher.

She slapped her foot on the step just as another cough rattled through her and tipped backward, her arms flailing for the handrail.

Riley braced her against his chest, and her head hit him square in the injured shoulder, but he smothered the groan before it escaped. She steadied herself and pulled away, shaking off his hold on her arms. Grabbing the handrail, she marched up the stairs, coughing with each step. He followed close enough to catch her if she faltered again.

Upstairs he placed his hands on her shoulders and led her to the kitchen table, pulling out a chair with his foot. “Sit.”

“I’m...” But she began coughing again and sank into the chair, one hand pressed flat against her chest, concern etched onto her face.

He pointed a finger. “Sit. Stay.”

Her head jerked back. “Roll...over? Play d-dead?”

He grinned and she started to smile, but lost it to another cough. He threw open cupboards, impatient to find a glass. Finally locating one, he filled it with water and brought it to her, cupping her hands around it. “Drink this.”

She made a noise that might have been a laugh or a cough. “What for?”

Yeah, what was it for? He ran his hand through his hair and tugged on the short strands. “I had to do something. You’re...you’re—”

“Trying...to breathe?” She raised her eyebrows, crinkling her forehead.

His hands fisted with the need to shake some sense into her or cradle her close and never let her go, no matter what Liam McBride or anyone said. “Do you have another inhaler at your place?”

When she shook her head, his chest squeezed in sympathy. From the moment he’d recognized Meg, he may as well have been in the blast zone from an improvised explosive device. His ears rang, his breath caught in his throat, his heart raced. Where was his battle calm? In an attempt to keep his hands to himself, he paced the small kitchen.

“I...” She set the untouched water on the table, her gaze shifting to a small purse on the counter.

How had he missed that? He grabbed the purse. “Do you have another inhaler in here?”

She shook her head. “Phone.”

“Phone?” he echoed.

“To call the pharmacy...” She stood but swayed and grabbed the back of the chair before reaching for the purse he had in his hand. “For a refill.”

“Meg, please. Sit down.” He stepped toward her, but she waved him off. “That could take too long.”

“I’ll be okay in a minute.” She pressed a hand to her chest.

“We shouldn’t take that chance.” He pulled his keys out of his pocket. “I’m taking you to the ER.”

“No, really... I...” Her voice trailed off as she began gasping for air, struggling to keep upright.

“I’m done asking. Now I’m ordering.” Riley put his hand under her elbow and gave her no choice. “My truck. Now.”

She pulled out of his grasp. “I can...walk.”

Whoa. Obviously while gaining those womanly curves, she’d lost that youthful attraction for him, but that was okay. For once something other than combat was getting his blood pumping.

* * *

Reality, meet Meg. Meg, meet reality.

This was not how her first meeting in over five years with Riley Cooper was supposed to happen. In her imagination, she was all sexy in a little black dress and killer heels after a relaxing spa day. Yeah, right; she’d spent the day cleaning and probably looked like Nick Nolte’s mug shot. So not fair! Riley was supposed to be breathless and falling at her feet, not vice versa. Stupid, stupid asthma. Another twenty minutes and she would’ve been home, not making embarrassing wheezing and whistling noises in front of him.

In the cellar, Meg had thought Riley was a hallucination brought on by her oxygen-starved brain, but it hadn’t taken long for her to see he was swoon-worthy flesh and blood. Riley had this whole bad-boy persona going on, with close-cropped military hair, Hollywood stubble and chiseled cheeks. What was he doing in Loon Lake? Last she knew, he was in Afghanistan. Her stomach clenched. Why had he returned?

Meg plodded toward the front door. Was it lack of oxygen or his presence making her dizzy? A million questions flitted around in her head like horseflies in spring. Forget curiosity. Giving him the third degree was out of the question until she could speak in full sentences. Another round of coughing left her light-headed. Damn, fresh air wasn’t helping. She rubbed her chest, hoping to ease the new tightness settling there and chase away the black spots dancing around the edges of her vision. Every time she tried to draw in a deeper breath, the cough started again and the cycle repeated. She’d wanted to argue some more, but she could expend effort on one thing and she chose breathing.

Riley brushed past her and opened the front door.

“Wait and I’ll help you into the truck.” He turned back to lock the door.

A shiny black Ford F-150 hulked in the driveway. Great, how am I supposed to climb into that beast? “I’ll manage.”

He grunted and swept past, getting to the truck ahead of her. He opened the passenger door, swearing under his breath as he lifted a brown paper grocery bag off the seat. Glass bottles clinked as he turned, and she glanced into the bag. Bottles of Jack Daniel’s stared back. She choked on the bitter bile rising in her throat. Oh, God, Riley, no. Please. I don’t want Fiona to come home to...this.

Meg met his gaze. Riley’s eyes resembled the lake during a summer storm. Those gray eyes—Fiona’s gray eyes—dared her to say something. “Are you okay to drive?”

He lifted the bag higher, the bottles clinking and the paper bag crackling. “I haven’t touched a drop. Check the bottles if you don’t believe me.”

“I believe you.” She stepped out of his way. “Expecting company?”

“Something like that.”

He set the bag on the porch steps and hustled back to the truck.

The dots dancing around the edges of her vision had increased in both size and speed, but she tried to pull herself into the pickup. Riley seized her around the waist and easily lifted her into the seat. “Thanks.”

After securing her seat belt, she sat hunched forward and closed her eyes.

When he climbed behind the wheel, she pried her eyes open and eased back against the seat. “You remember...hospital?”

“Of course.”

Meg tried to ignore his hand draped over the steering wheel. Not a good time for taking trips down memory lane...but those hands...

She made a strangled choking sound and turned away.

He slammed the brakes on. “Should I call an ambulance?”

“No.” She motioned with her hand. “Go.”

He peered at her for a moment longer before easing his foot off the brake. “Quit scaring me like that.”

“Sorry.” But it was his fault for looking so damn sexy. So not fair that his worn camo pants looked hot and her worn jeans looked...well, old and tattered. She wasn’t wearing any makeup and Liam’s old sweatshirt swallowed her whole. Yep, Meg McBride was a real sexpot. What was she doing? She needed to remember her first priority was Fiona. Riley’s parting words rang in her ears. I’m not coming back again, Meggie. The marines are my life now. But she’d been naive enough to think she could change his mind with sex. Yeah, that worked out well. But she was in a good place in her life now and wouldn’t confuse lust with love. Not that there was anything wrong with no-strings-attached sex. She might even try it...someday.

“...and I was surprised.”

Oh, God. He’d been talking and she hadn’t heard a word. “Sorry?”

He passed a slow-moving car. “I didn’t think your family used the cottage anymore.”

Was he here because he thought she wouldn’t be?

“I—”

“Sorry.” He glanced at her. “I didn’t mean to make you keep talking. Save your breath. We can catch up later.”

Fiona had two more weeks of vacation with Grampa Mac and Doris. Most lake rentals lasted a week. Riley would be gone before Fiona came home. Meg curled her fingers into her palms. She should be thinking of ways to tell Riley the truth, not celebrating the timing of his visit. If he’d come three weeks ago or two weeks from now, there would be no escaping the truth; it would be literally staring him in the face. But now? With a bag of whiskey bottles waiting on his porch? She could last a couple of weeks. Riley had shattered her heart... What would he do to Fiona’s tender one?

“Meg? You still with me?”

She opened her mouth but began coughing.

“I noticed the musty smell. Did mold bring on your attack?” He turned onto the road leading to the hospital.

She reached out to rest her hand on the dashboard. “Yeah...spring rain and snowmelt caused some spring flooding.”

“What about your place?” He gave her a quick glance. “Do you have mold, too?”

She nodded and he continued, “I’ll take a look later and see if I can’t get it cleaned up.”

“No!” He gave her a wounded look and she softened her tone. “Don’t waste...your week.”

He slowed the truck as they approached the hospital. “No problem. I’ll be here for the next thirty days.”

What? Thirty days? Meg shook her head. Riley might not know—yet—what she’d done, but karma had obviously memorized it line, verse and chapter and was gleefully punishing her. First, Riley showed up looking like sex on a stick while she looked like something he’d step in with his size thirteen boots. And he was staying an entire month. Last night, after she’d talked to Fiona on the phone, Meg had cried because another fourteen days without her baby seemed like an eternity. Now, a week wasn’t enough time to get ready for the impending storm.

* * *

Riley took the first empty parking spot. Her color had been pale before but it had suddenly gotten much worse. He threw the truck into Park while the wheels were still rolling and winced when the transmission groaned.

Leaping down, he sprinted to the passenger door and pulled Meg to his side. Keeping one hand under her elbow, he hustled her through a pair of glass doors that whooshed open to a small waiting area with a nurse seated at a desk.

She greeted them with a smile, but her sharp, assessing gaze stayed on Meg. “What brings you here today?”

“Asthma. I—” A fit of coughing cut Meg off.

Riley slipped an arm across Meg’s hunched shoulders, easing her closer. “She’s having an asthma attack and her inhaler was empty. Ma’am, she needs to see someone. Right away.”

After they’d taken seats in front of her desk, the woman tapped her finger on a small black pad that looked like a calculator. “Can you type your Social Security number into this for me?”

After Meg typed in her number, the nurse slipped a blood pulse oximeter on her finger.

“When did the wheezing start?” the nurse asked and verified Meg’s date of birth and social.

“About...thirty minutes ago.” Meg leaned forward in the seat.

“And what were you doing?”

“Laundry.”

Riley drew his chair closer and secured an arm around Meg as if she’d slip away from him if he let go. He listened impatiently to every inane question and Meg’s breathless replies, the incessant tapping on the keypad. Geez, couldn’t they just give her an inhaler or something? What was taking so long?

The nurse checked the oximeter and clucked her tongue. “Ninety-one. We’ll get you back there right away.”

While the nurse put a hospital bracelet around Meg’s wrist, Riley glanced over at the crowded waiting room. Texting and watching TV, none of them looked as though they wanted to shout and tear the place apart until their loved one was treated. Not that Meg was...

He closed his eyes and rubbed his forefinger across the bridge of his nose, searching for calm. He’d been fighting nausea since finding her at the bottom of those stairs. Sheer force of will had kept him moving up to this moment. Sweat trickled down his sides. Meg had asked him if he’d been expecting company when he’d picked up his bag of Jack Daniel’s bottles. What he hadn’t told her was that most nights the image of Private Trejo lying in a pool of blood and spilled guts at the bottom of those dusty steps in Kandahar kept him company.

A hand touched his arm, and his eyes flew open.

“She’s going to be fine.” The nurse flashed a reassuring smile. “Someone is coming right out to get her.”

The door to the ER buzzed open and another nurse in dark blue scrubs stepped through, pushing a wheelchair in front of her. She called for Meg. Riley swallowed and helped Meg stand.

“Meg, I figured that must be you when I saw the name on the face sheet from triage.” The trim, fortysomething nurse glanced at him, did a double take and smiled. “I would say it’s good to see you, but considering we’re in the ER, I won’t.”

“Hi, Jan. I’d...” Meg coughed and settled in the chair, and Riley started to follow them into a small treatment area. “I’d say the same, but yeah, ER and all.”

Jan stopped and gave him a sharp look. “Are you a relative?”

“No.” But if you think you’re keeping me out here and away from Meggie, think again, lady.

“He’s...” Meg’s gaze bounced between him and Jan. “I’d like him with me.”

The nurse nodded and started forward again. He sighed, glad he didn’t have to fight and claw his way back there to be sure they did their best for Meg.

“We’ll get you fixed up right quick,” Jan said cheerfully as she wheeled Meg down a short hall with curtained treatment areas. “I ran into Brody the other day at the Pic-N-Save. He said Fiona is enjoying her trip. Bet you miss her like crazy. It was the Grand Canyon, wasn’t it?”

Meg bit her lower lip. “Yes. Grand Canyon.”

“They went by motor home, didn’t they?”

“Yes.” Meg’s fingers gripped the sides of the chair, her knuckles white.

Riley looked to Meg, but she ignored him. Who was Fiona and why would Meg be missing her like crazy? And who was Brody?

She’s made a life for herself complete with new friends in the past five years, dumbass.

The nurse stopped in front of a curtained treatment area, engaged the brake on the wheelchair and helped Meg transfer to a narrow stretcher. She closed the curtain and pulled a hospital gown from an overhead cabinet. “Sir, if you’ll wait on the other side of the curtain for a moment.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He was loath to leave Meg, but took a step back. Getting escorted out by security wouldn’t be a good idea.

“Thanks.” The nurse smiled at him as she yanked the curtain closed in his face. “Now, Meg, take off your shirt and unhook your bra.”

The curtain hadn’t closed all the way and he could still see Meg. He should be a gentleman about this. But he needed to reassure himself they were taking proper care of Meg. Yeah, right.

Jan, the nurse, clucked her tongue, saying, “Oh, my.” Riley stiffened as she continued, “Looks like you’ve got some mold on the back of this sweatshirt.”

“I must’ve brushed up against it in the basement,” Meg responded.

“I’ll bag the shirt up just as a precaution and look for a scrub top for you to wear home,” Jan said and there was some rustling.

“There, all covered,” Jan said, as if signaling the all clear, and Riley stepped back around the curtain.

A tech came in right behind him and took Meg’s vital signs while the nurse did an evaluation. He clenched his jaw. How many questions did they have to ask before they treated her?

The curtain flew aside and the doctor stepped in, stethoscope looped around his neck and holding a clipboard. He introduced himself and pulled a small black stool up to the stretcher and sat down.

“So you’ve had an asthma attack. Was this one any worse than the others?”

“No, but I had used up my inhaler and someone got a little freaked out.”

Riley opened his mouth but thought better of arguing and shut it again.

“I see. Let’s have a listen.” The doctor stuck his stethoscope under the gown and listened to Meg’s chest, right upper, left upper, right lower, then left lower, then repeating the process on her back all the while explaining, “We’re going to get your asthma exacerbation under control by giving you several updrafts back to back and, if necessary, an IV steroid.”

When he finished, he went to the computer to document his findings and the nurse tied the gown. “It says you have inhalers. Did you say you used one today?”

Unable to keep silent any longer, Riley stepped away from the wall he’d been leaning against. “The one she had was empty. I found her at—”

“And you are?” The doctor turned and studied Riley over the top of his glasses.

Riley flexed his fingers. Good question. What was he to Meg? Blowing out the breath he’d been holding in, he said, “Riley Cooper, sir.”

The doctor glanced at the chart. “Are you a relative?”

Riley stepped closer to Meg. “I’m—”

“He’s just, uh...just a neighbor.”

Well, that answered who and what he was. His gut burned at being relegated to such a mundane role in Meg’s life.

Chapter Two

“Meg gave her permission for him to be here,” Jan said into the silence.

Meg rubbed her nose and avoided eye contact with Riley, but sneaked a look at his arms folded over his well-defined chest. And yes, she knew that chest was rock-hard from when he’d caught her on the stairs.

Good grief, what was she thinking, and more to the point, why was he back here after all this time? Just her luck to have an asthma attack in the middle of cleaning up the place for—of all people—Riley. Why had she let him talk her into coming to the ER? And why had she assumed the mold in that basement had been cleaned up in the first place? If she’d known how bad it was, she would’ve refused the job. Or at least refilled the inhaler before going.

She needed to be paying attention to the doctor, but Riley’s looming presence dwarfed everyone and everything else. Well, he couldn’t overwhelm her now. His surprise appearance at the cottage had flustered her and thrown her back into the old habit of thinking he hung the moon. That’s the explanation she had for letting him bully her into coming to the hospital. But she was an adult with a good life in Loon Lake and was working hard to provide Fiona with the security every child deserved. Riley might be sexier than ever, but she couldn’t let him in. Not after he’d made it plain his presence was temporary. She had to assume the marines were still his passion, his first choice. He’d shattered her heart and she wouldn’t allow him to do that to Fiona. Meg’s job as Fiona’s mom was not only to provide but also to protect.

And yet, hadn’t she hurt Fiona by keeping her existence a secret from Riley? Hiding a child wasn’t pay back, no matter what Riley had done. Fiona had every right to know her father, and vice versa. He’d ignored her letters, but she’d planned on swallowing her pride and doing what was necessary to contact him...right up until the day that manila envelope had arrived. In it were her letters to him. He’d returned every damn one—unopened.

“Let’s adjust this a bit,” Jan muttered as she fiddled with the oxygen mask.

The movement, as much as the increased oxygen, jerked Meg back to the present.

The doctor scribbled a note and spoke to the nurse. “We need to see about getting Meghan a room for the night.”

Wait, what? A room? As in hospitalized overnight? No, no, no. With her high deductible insurance plan, she’d be in debt until Fiona left for college—longer. Meg sat straighter and tugged the mask down. “No. I can’t stay over—”

“You need this.” Riley settled the mask firmly back in place.

She tried to slap his hand away, but he wouldn’t budge.

The doctor cleared his throat. “It’s a precaution. I don’t think you should be alone tonight, Meghan.”

Riley released his hold on the mask. “I’ll stay with her.”

Meg shook her head. Fiona’s presence covered every inch of their home. She couldn’t deal with this tonight. The asthma treatments would leave her jittery and grouchy. Her dream of slinky dresses and killer heels might be dead, but she still needed some type of armor when she dealt with Riley.

“According to this, you were doing laundry when the attack occurred.” The doctor frowned. “I see mold is one of your triggers, so I assume there’s mold at your place?”

She groaned inwardly. If she said yes, the doctor would want her to stay in the hospital. If she said no, Riley would insist on staying at her place. It was a no-win situation. Maybe being in debt for the rest of her life wouldn’t be so bad. Ramen noodles weren’t the worst things in the world.

“My cottage is next to hers and it’s my understanding, sir, both basements flooded.” Riley laid his hand on her shoulder.

Meg tried to shrug it off and failed. The warmth of his fingers was scrambling her brain because she had an urge to lean into his strength. She was doing fine on her own. With her graduation from college this semester and her successful completion of student teaching last semester, she’d sent the letter of disposition required for teacher certification. Once she received certification, she could pursue a full-time position. No more cleaning cottages to pick up extra cash between subbing jobs. Sure, she’d had some setbacks with her unreliable car and the flooded basement, but nothing she couldn’t handle, and she’d already applied for a fall teaching job. Speed bumps were a part of life, but the bag with bottles of whiskey on Riley’s porch could signal more than a bump in the road for Fiona. He hadn’t been a drinker before he left so Meg had been surprised by the alcohol, but that proved she didn’t know Riley anymore and her job was to protect her daughter.

The doctor removed his glasses and slipped them in his shirt pocket. “Under normal circumstances, having some mold in the cellar wouldn’t put you in undue stress, but a second response to the same trigger would be twice as bad.”

“I’m taking her to a motel for tonight.” Riley squeezed her shoulder. “And I’ll be sure her basement gets cleaned up.”

“Sounds good.” The doctor stood and pushed the stool back. He shook Riley’s hand and patted Meg’s leg. “I’ll discharge you if you stay away from any triggers at least for tonight and use your nebulizer every four hours. Don’t hesitate to return if your condition worsens during the night. And be sure to fill your inhaler prescription.”

Meg sputtered. What made Riley think he could show up and take over? She was capable of taking care of her daughter, herself and her home, thank you very much. After her ma had died, she’d discovered a strength she hadn’t known she possessed. She’d taken care of everything after her father and brother fell apart, and she’d been barely out of her teens, all the while caring for an infant and working to finish college. She’d been handling things for a long time now and she’d—

“Keep that oxygen on while I go to see about your paperwork,” Jan said and sneaked a glance at Riley before sweeping past the curtain, her sneakers squeaking on the polished floor.

Just like that it was a done deal. Meg made a grab for the mask, but Riley stopped her. “What part of keep this on did you not understand?”

Fine. She’d talk through the stupid mask. “You don’t have to go to any trouble. I can take care of myself and see that my basement is cleaned up.”

He bent over her, one hand resting next to her head, the other near her hip. “Tonight I issue orders. You follow them.”

Before she could form a protest, he leaned closer. Dear Lord, was he going to kiss her? Her heart beat erratically and her eyes closed, as if she’d lost control of them. His firm lips touched her forehead. What did he think he was doing? How dare he! How...how... Her protests went unspoken as she tried to process his actions. Riley had kissed her. A peck on her forehead, but she’d liked it. Oh, God, she’d liked it. She had plans and Riley Cooper was not part of those. At one time he had been, but then she’d tried to tell him about Fiona and he hadn’t bothered to open, let alone read, her letters. But what about those dreams of finding someone to share all of life’s ups and downs? She shoved those thoughts aside. Why go looking for trouble or heartache?

Jan moved the curtain, jangling the rings against the metal rod. Riley straightened and stepped back. Great, now it would be all over town that Meg McBride not only sent her daughter away so she could carry on a raging affair with a hot stranger but ended up in the ER with him. A story begging for embellishment.

“Let’s get you ready to go.” Jan dropped a stack of papers next to Meg’s feet and bustled around, unhooking the oxygen and handing Meg the bra, T-shirt and her hoodie safely sealed in a plastic bag.

Riley straightened up and stepped away from the stretcher. “Ma’am, could you direct me to the nearest head...uh, restroom?”

“The head? Are you saying I run a tight ship?” Jan laughed.

Riley grinned. “Land or sea it’s the same to a grunt.”

She stepped into the hall. “I prefer the tight ship theory, but here, let me get you started in the right direction.”

Meg began dressing while Jan was giving Riley directions. Her fingers shook as she tried to get the bra on and she knew the shakes weren’t entirely due to the asthma meds. Try as she might, she couldn’t block out the fact that Riley had kissed her. She should be furious with him. So why wasn’t she?

“Here, let me help.” Jan helped her get the hooks threaded into the loops. “I must say, everyone is admiring your...uh...um...”

“He’s a friend of Liam’s and just happens to be renting the cottage next to mine.” Meg left out the part how Riley had sometimes spent summers as a child at the lake with his parents and then later as a guest of her family. That was close to ten years ago; no need to remind everyone of a silly childhood crush she’d gotten over a long time ago.

“Yeah, Lorena down at the Pic-N-Save said a hottie in a big black pickup had stopped for gas at that shiny new station off the interstate at the same time she was fueling up.” Jan straightened the papers she’d left on the bed. “Lorena was asking everyone who came in if they knew anything about him. Won’t those girls be jealous when they find out I know something they don’t.”

“Mmm.” Meg pulled the cotton scrub top over her head.

“Oh, but look at me. Goodness, I shouldn’t be talking about your...uh, friend like that.” Jan helped Meg pull her hair from beneath the shirt.

“He’s my brother’s friend,” Meg said through gritted teeth. Who was she trying to convince...them or herself?

Jan picked up the papers. “Yes. Yes. Of course. Your...um, Riley said he’d meet you at the nurses’ station.”

Meg sighed. Her life would be a lot simpler if everyone would just stay out of her business.

* * *

Riley thanked the young, dark-haired nurse at the desk. While the one motel in Loon Lake was closed for renovations, she’d suggested one not too far away and had even called to check availability.

With the room booked, now all Riley had to do was get Meg there. He knew she’d fight him on it, but he wasn’t letting her go back to either cottage tonight, nor was he leaving her alone. As far as he knew, her dad and brother were living three hours away in Boston. He might not want to admit it, but she’d scared him. And he’d been in some terrifying situations during his time in the sandbox. When he returned to his men, he wanted to do it knowing Meg was here in Loon Lake, safe and happy.

And is that your explanation for your boneheaded behavior back there, Marine?

The kiss had been spontaneous and it was a toss-up who’d been more surprised by the gesture. For a split second, the emotions he’d bottled up had threatened to consume him. He’d been afraid she’d pass out or worse before he could get her help. But he was glad he’d been there, able to help her, and that he’d finally helped someone rather than watching them die.

Look on the bright side, Marine—giving her a quick peck was preferable to clinging to her in relief.

“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.”

“Yes, please.” She nodded and turned back to him. “Take me home.”

He tsked his tongue. “No. Can. Do.”

Her eyes widened. “But you just said—”

“I said we’re leaving here. If you’d been paying attention, you’d know I didn’t specify a destination.” He opened the passenger door. “Remember, I’m under doctor’s orders to take you to a motel tonight.”

“What? Why that’s...that’s... No. Take me home.”

He risked an elbow in his stomach but hovered as she pulled herself into the truck. Once she was seated, he grinned and said, “Can’t. The doc and I shook on it and everything.”

“Why... I... You...”

“Hold that thought.” He slammed the door and hustled around the front of the truck. Getting under her skin felt good. Too good. His hand tightened around his key. He had men counting on him to return at 100 percent. If he wasn’t careful, the one woman he couldn’t get out of his system might distract him from that goal.

* * *

When was the last time someone had left her speechless? Meg buckled her seat belt with a loud click. She brushed her hand over the bear’s plush fur. If she wasn’t careful, Riley would crawl right back into her heart. She needed to remember he was here for thirty days, and as a single mother to an impressionable little girl, she couldn’t do temporary.

And she wasn’t going to look at his hands on the steering wheel...she wasn’t. She—Damn. Her short nails dug into the palms of her hands and her mother’s words echoed in her head. You need to be careful how much attention you pay to that boy. He’ll get the wrong idea about what kind of girl you are.

Sorry, Ma, but he got the wrong idea. But now she was on a good path, a smart path and—

“I can hear you all the way over here.”

“What?” She jerked her head back, warmth spreading across her cheeks. “I didn’t say anything.”

“No, but you’re busy thinking it.” He draped his hand over the wheel, giving her a sidelong glance and a devilish grin.

If he wasn’t the most annoying... She sighed. No other man in her acquaintance sparked her nerve endings the way Riley did. Not that Loon Lake was crawling with eligible men, but enough to convince her that what she felt for Riley didn’t come along every day. “I wasn’t thinking anything.”

“Just like you weren’t talking?” He glanced over and quirked his eyebrow.

Meg sighed and shifted in the seat. Ugh. He used that one eyebrow like a sexy weapon, as if he knew that simple action tied her in knots.

“I was—Hey, you missed the turn.” She dragged in a tight breath. Good heavens, was he serious about a motel?

He gave her a dimpled grin. “I told you. We’re going to a motel.”

Those dang dimples—yeah, more ammo in his sex-on-a-stick arsenal. She shook her head. “I’m not going anywhere dressed like this.”

“Sorry, but you’ve already been somewhere dressed like that.”

“Well, thank you, Captain Obvious.” She turned her head toward the passenger-side window. As if the asthma meds hadn’t made her squirrely enough, the sight of his hands had her squirming. “But that was an emergency.”

“Ah, but the motel is an extension of the original mission.” Slowing for a red light, he turned his head to study her. “Marines don’t stop until the job is finished.”

“You got the job done. I can breathe and—” she rattled her bag “—I have more meds if anything happens.”

“You heard the doctor. No exposure to mold tonight.” The light changed and he drove through the intersection. “Afraid you won’t be able to resist me?”

She snorted. “Oh, please. If anything, I’m more likely to strangle you in your sleep.”

“Hmm...” He wiggled both eyebrows at her. “Considering you’d have to climb on top of me to have that sort of access.”

As if she needed that picture in her head. “I’m serious, Riley.”

He leaned sideways toward her. “So am I. I plan to stick to you like a foul odor.”

She rolled her eyes. “Which reminds me. I need a shower. I spent the whole day cleaning that cottage.”

He grinned, all white teeth and dimples peeking out from the stubble. “You can shower at the motel.”

She still had an ace up her sleeve and brought out her sweetest, fakest smile. “But these clothes have mold and dust and who knows what clinging to them. You heard the doctor. No more exposure means I need clean clothes.”

“That nurse gave you a top to wear.”

“Yeah, but what about the rest of my clothes? My sneakers and—”

“You’ve made your point. I should’ve remembered you don’t play fair.” He barked out a laugh, but pulled onto the shoulder of the road. “We’ll get whatever you need and you can argue with me all you want, but we’re still going to a motel.”

She swallowed hard, remembering the last time they’d ended up in a motel room together.

“Why were you cleaning the cottage?” He checked for traffic before easing back onto the road.

“I was repaying a favor.” She shrugged. “I guess karma didn’t get that part of the message.”

“Yeah, good deeds and all that.” He completed the U-turn and sped up. “So you’re living in Loon Lake full-time?”

“Yup, I’m a permanent resident.” Tomorrow, when the worst of the asthma meds were out of her system, would be time enough for the rest of the story. She had her application in with the school system, where she’d done her student teaching. She wouldn’t let Riley’s sexy dimples blind her to her priorities. She had a daughter to raise, a career to start and a life to live.

“Living at your dad’s place makes it convenient.”

“Except it’s not my dad’s place.” She was proud of owning a home and wanted to make sure he knew about it. “It’s mine. I own it.”

“Really?” His eyes widened. “You took the place on by yourself?”

That’s nothing. I lost my mother, nursed my broken heart and had your baby all by myself. “Don’t sound so surprised. In case you hadn’t noticed, I grew up while you were gone.”

He turned toward her, his gaze sweeping over her. “Oh, I noticed. All I’m saying is the winters can be harsh. That alone would create a lot of upkeep.”

“I can handle it... I am handling it.” Okay, so she was going to have to prioritize her projects due to her car dying and the flooding. Homes on the other end of the lake and ones right on the water had it worse, so she considered herself lucky.

“Your dad wasn’t interested in keeping the place for retirement?”

“No, he signed the deed over to Liam and me. I bought my brother out.” She had grabbed the chance to own a home and raise Fiona in a small town noted for its excellent school system. Here, they had a yard where Meg planned to put up a swing set and, as soon as she found an affordable one that didn’t set off her asthma, she’d get Fiona a puppy. “Neither one of them had much interest in the place after Mom died.”

Riley cleared his throat. “I was sorry to hear about your mother’s death. By the time word got to me in the sandbox, it was too late. I wish I could’ve been there for you, Meg.”

“Thanks, but I didn’t expect you.” But that hadn’t prevented her from searching each new face that came through the door.

“How has Mac been doing?”

“He’s doing great. He’s remarried and—”

“Wait. Mac remarried? Wow, I...” He shook his head. “I guess that shows how long I’ve been gone.”

She clenched her jaw. And totally cut us out of your life while you were at it. “You’ve been gone for nearly six years.”

“Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt.” He reached over and squeezed her hand. “Tell me about Mac.”

The calluses were new...and sexy. Oh, God, she needed to stop this. Riley might press all her buttons, but she needed to remember that whiskey on his porch. Needed to remember their chemistry wasn’t enough to bind him to her. She’d tried that and failed. Their one night together bound her to him in the form of their daughter, but he didn’t know that...yet. “As I was saying, a widow moved in next door about two years ago and they hit it off right away. They got married at the end of last year when Dad retired.”

“Mac retired? I thought they’d have to wheel him out of the fire station.” He rubbed his thumb over her knuckles. “Do you like his new wife?”

“I like her very much. Doris is sweet and she’s been a great...” She hesitated.

“Great what?”

“Influence on my dad.” She’d been going to say “grandmother,” but this wasn’t the time or place for that explanation. “Getting him to retire and all.”

Riley squeezed her hand. “Is it hard watching him with someone else?”

“A little at first, but I’m glad he’s happy.”

“What about you, Meggie? Are you happy living here?”

“Yes, I am,” she said and meant it. She’d taken a chance thirteen months ago, uprooting Fiona from Boston to settle in Loon Lake, but they’d made a life for themselves in the quintessential New England town. The wood-covered bridge, pre-Revolutionary War architecture and town green with summer band concerts in the gazebo were the things the tourists saw, but Meg knew firsthand about the caring and kind people who inhabited Loon Lake. Fiercely independent, they never asked for help and yet assisted anyone one who might need it. She still wasn’t sure who to thank for making sure her driveway was plowed after each snowstorm last winter.

Here she could give Fiona community and recreational opportunities that might have been out of reach in Boston. She glanced at Riley, wondering what it would be like to share this life she’d made with him.

She pushed that thought aside, too tired to deal with the enormity of it tonight and the role she and her wounded pride had played in keeping father and daughter apart. She regretted that decision, but it was too late to take it back. All she could do now was hope Fiona didn’t pay the price for her selfishness.

Call me Scarlett, but I’ll worry about that tomorrow.

* * *

Riley stopped his truck in front of Meg’s place, glad she had no idea what he was thinking. Of course, she couldn’t call him any names worse than those he’d called himself during the drive from the hospital. Every time she’d shifted in her seat, he responded, thinking how she’d felt underneath him that night, how no other woman since had made him feel so special.

Nice going, Marine. The woman has a life-threatening asthma attack and all you can think about is jumping her bones.

But then he laughed to himself because that was pretty much the number one objective for a marine on leave.

Meg was white picket fences and family dinners on Sunday, and he was forward operating bases and MREs. She needed someone who was emotionally stable and reliable, not someone chasing an adrenaline rush in the latest battle zone. Putting the truck in Park and killing the engine, he said, “Tell me what you want and I’ll get it.”

“What I want is to stay home. I’ve lived with asthma all my life. I can take care of myself.”

She could fight him all she wanted, but she was staying in the motel tonight if he had to put her over his shoulder. He was keeping her safe at all costs. No more deaths on his watch. Or his conscience. “So why did I find you at the bottom of the stairs, gasping for air?”

“It wasn’t that bad. I was catching my breath before climbing back upstairs.”

“Yeah, well, life sucks. You’re coming with me to the motel. I came here because you said you wanted to get a change of clothes. You can do that or we’ll leave right now.” He hated sounding like such a hard-ass, but he wasn’t taking any chances with Meg’s safety, so he restarted the truck’s engine as a demonstration.

“All right. All right.” She unbuckled her seat belt, filling the cab with that insistent pinging noise. “But I go in and get my own stuff. I don’t want you pawing through my things.”

“Afraid of what I might find hidden in your underwear drawer?” He raised his eyebrows.

“Don’t you have something on your front porch that you need to bring inside?”

“Touché.” Earlier, he’d toyed with the idea of getting acquainted with one of those bottles tonight, but now he wasn’t taking any chances. He needed to be alert in case she had a relapse. “I’ll go take care of my stuff while you get what you need.”

He cut the engine again and she scrambled out of the truck. Her swaying hips and cute butt presented a nice view, lightening his mood without the threat of a hangover.

Remember, returning to your squad was the original mission, Marine.

“And don’t forget to come back out. Locking your door won’t stop me, Meggie. I’m very good at gaining access to barricaded buildings,” he called after her.

She paused on her way up the porch steps to look over her shoulder. “You would come in, knowing you weren’t welcome?”

He barked out a laugh. “I’ve spent much of the past six years in Afghanistan. I’m used to being where I’m not welcome.”

He loped across the distance separating their houses. Putting his bag of clanking bottles on the floor inside the door, he opened his gear bag and pulled out a bottle of ibuprofen. This was the only painkiller he was allowing himself tonight. He grabbed the duffel off the couch and grunted at the twinge in his shoulder. If lucky, Meg wouldn’t force him to take extreme measures to get her to the motel.

To his surprise, and his shoulder’s relief, she was waiting next to his truck with an overnight case. He lifted his chin toward her bag. “Your nebulizer better be in there.”

She rolled those beautiful eyes at him, but nodded. Oorah. He might be calculating Red Sox batting averages in his head before this night was over, but for now he’d savor his victory.

* * *

Checking into their room at the motel ran so smoothly, he suspected Meg had run out of steam. She hadn’t even given him more than token grief over sharing a room. Once inside, she threw her overnight case on one of the double beds, pulled out some items and headed for the bathroom.

“Calling dibs,” was all she said before shutting the door. The lock engaged with a click that echoed.

Despite the utilitarian pressboard furniture, brown tweed carpet, ugly orange drapes and matching bed covers, the room was spotless.

The shower came on and images of a naked Meg filled his head. He fisted his hands at the thought of exploring those new curves. Barely out of her teens when he’d last seen her, she’d been coltish, all legs and arms. But now...

With a muttered curse at the direction of his thoughts, he grabbed the television remote, flipping through channels until he found a baseball game. Not that he’d be able to concentrate, but at least he’d try. Lying on one of the beds, he pretended the game interested him.

The water switched off and he swung his legs off the bed and stood. Clearing his throat, he went closer to the door. “I was thinking of ordering a pizza. You interested?”

“Yeah...o-okay sure.”

She didn’t sound sure and—

Damn. How could he have forgotten they’d fed one another pizza that night? He rubbed his palms on his pants. “Look, there’s a burger joint down the road. I can—”

“Pizza is fine.”

Riley ordered and waited for her to finish with the blow-dryer before approaching the bathroom door again. “I’m going to get us some drinks from the vending machine.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

Riley took his time, hoping the fresh air would clear his head a bit. His imagination kept conjuring up images of Meg naked on the other side of that bathroom door.

He heard her talking to someone when he got back to the room and quietly pushed the door open.

Dressed in a blue fuzzy robe, she had her back to him, holding her cell phone to her ear. “I told you I’m fine. I called because I knew you’d eventually hear about it anyway. No, Liam, you do not need to talk to him. I’m a big girl. I can handle this.”

Riley set the cans on the small table, but she didn’t turn around.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, you do not need to come up here. And no, don’t call Dad. He’ll just worry and that will worry Fiona. You know what kind of radar she has.” Meg shifted from one foot to the other. “No, I don’t want them to cut their trip short. Stay out of this.”

She turned around as if realizing he was back in the room. Shaking her head and rolling her eyes, she said, “Don’t make me regret calling you. I’m fine and if you tell, I’ll hunt you down. You know I will...Yeah, love you, too.”

Slipping the phone into the front pocket on her robe, she tightened the belt. “I figured I’d better call Liam before he heard about my ER visit from someone else.”

“Would word reach him one hundred and sixty miles away in Boston?”

She shook her head. “You’d be surprised.”

A knock at the door signaled their pizza delivery before Riley could say anything more. He opened the door and huffed out a laugh. Was this kid even old enough to drive? “Hey. How much?”

“It’s...” The boy paused as he glanced over Riley’s shoulder. Then his eyes widened and his jaw dropped. “Ms. McBride? Is that you? Really you?”

“Kevin?” Meg’s voice rose, along with the color in her cheeks.

Riley glanced over his shoulder at Meggie. Ms. McBride? Dear Lord, he had been gone a long time.

Riley tried to take the pizza box, but the kid had it in a tight grip. What the...? The teen, his expression a mixture of shock and disappointment, stared at Meg. Whoa, he had a crush on Meg and was reacting to finding her in a motel room with some guy. Poor kid. “Kevin, is it?”

The teen turned his attention back to Riley. “Uh, yeah, Kevin Thompson.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Kevin.” Riley clapped him on the shoulder since Kevin’s hands were full of pizza box. “Meg—uh, Ms. McBride had an asthma attack and we agreed with the doctor’s recommendation that she not be exposed to the mold in her basement until we can get it cleaned up.”

Kevin’s eyes widened. “Oh, hey, I—You’re okay now, though, right, Ms. McBride?”

“Yes, I’m feeling much better now, thank you.” Meg stepped closer. “I’m glad to see Bert gave you the job.”

“Thanks to you.” The kid ducked his head. “The way you vouched for me and all...uh...thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” Meg pointed a finger at him and spoke in a motherly tone. “Just be sure your grades don’t suffer.”

“Oh, no, I promise because I really... I mean...” The kid glanced down and shuffled his feet.

Riley lifted the box from Kevin’s hands, set it on the table and decided to go with his gut. “Kevin, I might need some help with the cleanup in Meg’s—Ms. McBride’s—basement. Would you be available to help?”

“Yes, sir, I sure would.” Kevin bobbled his head, his attention now on Riley. “Are you like the one that’s in the marines?”

News did travel fast in Loon Lake, or maybe it was different now that Meg lived here full-time. He hadn’t paid attention to gossip when he’d been here as a kid. “That’s right. I’m a marine.”

Meg cleared her throat. “Won’t Bert be waiting on you, Kevin?”

“Oh, yeah, that’s right. I should get back there. Glad you’re feeling better.” The teen turned to leave.

“Wait.” Riley pressed some bills into Kevin’s hand. “Don’t want to forget to pay you for the pizza and have you be responsible.”

The boy glanced at the money. “Oh, hey, but that’s way too—”

“Keep it.” Riley shrugged. “We kept you here talking when you could’ve been collecting more tips.”

The kid shoved the wadded bills into his pocket. “Uh, yeah, sure. Thanks, man. And if you need help with the basement...”

“I’ll be in touch after I make an initial inspection,” Riley told him.

“Sure, sure.” Kevin nodded. “Well, uh...have a nice night.”

“Stay safe,” Meg called as Riley shut the door and flipped the dead bolt.

Riley turned and stared at her. “Ms. McBride?”

Her mouth twitched. “I did my student teaching at the high school.”

“I think you have an admirer.” He playfully bumped shoulders.

“If you ask me, he had a few stars in his eyes when he looked at you.” She grinned.

“Seems like a decent kid,” Riley remarked as he flipped open the pizza box, filling the air with the scent of warm dough and pepperoni.

“He is. Kevin’s had it rough, but I think he’s on the right path.”

“Bad home life?” After Riley’s parents split, each had used him as a weapon against the other. He’d hated getting shuttled from one to the other, hated new people coming into his life for short periods of time, then disappearing as each parent dated and, most of all, he’d hated the emotional void he’d had to endure as they got so caught up in their own pain and they’d ignored his. The marines had given him the structure and the sense of belonging he’d craved as a child.

“Kevin’s mom left when he was young. His dad is rarely sober and often out of work.” Meg rubbed a finger across one eyebrow. “Kevin was left to his own devices.”

“That’s gotta be rough. He’s lucky he has you to look out for him.” He set a pizza slice on a napkin and pushed it toward her before taking one for himself.

Imagine, his little Meggie an authority figure to teenagers. His chest tightened. What else had he missed? “Looks like you’ve made a place for yourself in the Loon Lake community.”

“And all the stuff that goes with it.” She heaved a sigh and sank into the wooden chair at the small round table, reaching for one of the sodas he’d bought.

He frowned. “Problem?”

“Between the ER and now the motel, gossip will be circling around Loon Lake like Martin Evers’s homing pigeons.” She pulled the soda can tab with a sharp snap and laughed. “I wish my real life was as interesting as the one everyone will be talking about.”

He settled into the seat opposite her. “I don’t see the harm, you’re an adult. And Kevin proved it by calling you Ms. McBride.”

“Yeah, still getting used to that part.” She shook her head. “Still, I would prefer not to be the subject of gossip.”

“It’s pretty harmless.” He folded his slice in half lengthwise and took a bite.

“I... I have more than myself to think of.” She ran her fingertip along the ridge of the soda can.

Riley chewed and set the rest of the slice on the napkin. Was there someone—someone special—she didn’t want to hear the gossip? “Maybe you’d like to explain that.”

She stared at her hands for a moment before looking up, meeting his gaze. “I guess it’s going to come out anyway... I have a daughter. Her name’s Fiona.”

“Oh...huh.” Well, that explained who Fiona was. But...Meg was a mother? He hadn’t seen that coming. He recalled Meg as a little girl with that mass of red hair, freckles and those beautiful eyes. Did her daughter look like her? His throat tightened with longing for something he couldn’t—or wouldn’t—name. He’d made his choice six years ago and now he had no right to any possessiveness or room for regrets.

After Meg’s first letter, he’d received orders to report to a marine expeditionary unit and spent months deep in Afghanistan’s desolate countryside. Due to a snafu, he hadn’t received the rest of her letters until getting back to a forward operating base. Someone had bundled the letters as if preparing to return them. Before he could open them, fate had intervened in the form of an IED, killing and maiming his fellow marines, and he’d decided to set Meg free without ever reading the letters, afraid he’d change his mind if he did.

“Are you and the child’s father still—” he cleared his throat before continuing “—involved?”

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