Crossing the Line (24 page)

For his part, Paul couldn’t remember the last time he’d had sex twice in one day. He and Melissa had a fairly active sex life, but they’d been together for fifteen years. The days of endless hours in bed where they were doing more than sleeping died off somewhere in their twenties. Neither had seemed to miss it, but now he was wondering if maybe they should have. 

Megan took another bite of her pizza. “A penny for your thoughts?”

He followed suit, and reached for the slice of pizza he’d deposited back in the box earlier. It was a little awkward to eat with Megan sitting on his lap like she was, but he had no desire for her to move. “I was trying to remember the last time I had sex more than once in a day.”

Her eyes grew wide.

“Don’t look so shocked. When you get older, things change.”

She scrunched up her nose.

Fortunately, that was the end of the conversation for the time being, as the house phone rang. Megan reluctantly got up, and he went to answer it. 

They both took turns talking to Chloe. His little girl was having fun. She’d forgotten all about him being sick, and was busy enjoying the time with her grandparents. 

He slipped out of the room when Megan took the phone, to give her a little privacy. It was also the first real opportunity he had to regroup after waking up from his nightmare. It wasn’t the first time he’d had that particular dream. After Melissa died, he’d had it almost every night. Over time, it happened less often, but when it did, it was intense. Once, he broke his bedside lamp. And more than a few times he’d ripped his bed sheets.

When he woke up and realized he wasn’t alone, it had terrified him. What if he’d hurt Megan while dreaming? He didn’t know if he could live with himself. It was one more reason not to have a relationship with her.

There was one huge obstacle arguing the other side, though, and it was Megan herself. She was smart, sexy, and she made him feel more alive than he had in years. Megan had awakened a part of him he’d thought dead and buried. He wasn’t sure he wanted to give it up. He wasn’t sure if he could.

Megan found him in his bedroom. “Cindy wanted me to tell you to call her if you needed anything.”

He smiled. “Thanks. Sometimes I think she’s having a difficult time letting go. When they lived in town, I relied on them a lot. Even after all these years.”

“That’s understandable, I guess.”

Megan remained by the door, and he realized she was waiting for an invitation to enter. He’d been somewhat protective of his bedroom. It was his space. The only time she’d come in without waiting for permission was when he was sick. Even then, Megan had been cautious. She’d brought him food and medicine, and she would retrieve items from his bathroom when he needed them, but that was all. Paul realized that if whatever this was between them had any hope of working, he was going to have to let her in. Not only to his personal space, but to everything else as well. 

Paul sat on the edge of the bed and patted the space beside him. 

Megan smiled and strolled into the room. She took a seat beside him and took hold of his hand. “I wasn’t sure if you’d want me in here.”

“I have been a little overprotective of my bedroom, haven’t I?”

She shrugged. “A little. But I get it.”

He grunted. “You let me off the hook too easy, Megan.”

“What would you have me do, hmm? I won’t fault you for loving your wife. It’s not a competition.”

“No, I suppose it isn’t.” He couldn’t deny her logic, but it was almost too rational.

“Look, I won’t say I’m not a little jealous sometimes. I mean, you loved her. But it seems petty to me to get upset with you over it. At least from everything you and your family have told me about Melissa, it sounds like she loved you just as much.”

Paul took a deep breath to steady himself. “Thank you for understanding. I don’t think most women would.”

She squeezed his hand and laid her head on his shoulder. “Yeah, well, I’m not most women.”

He laughed. “No. You most certainly are not.”

They sat there for several minutes staring off into space before Megan spoke. “Does me being in here bother you?”

“No. I thought maybe it would, but it doesn’t.”

Megan hugged his arm. “Good.”

“I don’t know . . .” He paused. “I don’t know if I’m ready to . . . sleep with you in here yet, though.”

She smiled up at him. “But you still
want
to sleep with me, right?”

He brushed a strand of hair away from her face. “I do. But . . .”

“But?”

As much as he didn’t want to talk about his dream, he knew if they were going to continue sharing a bed, he’d have to. She needed to know what she was getting herself into. If she chose to kick him out of her bed, then that was her decision and he’d respect it.

“Sometimes I have dreams—nightmares—like I did today.”

Megan’s expression turned serious. “Okay.”

This was harder than he thought it would be. “Most of the time they revolve around the night Melissa died. I don’t want to go into the details, but sometimes when I have them I get . . . violent.”

“Violent how?”

He frowned. “I broke my lamp once. If you look closely at the base, you can see the crack where I glued it back together.”

She looked over his shoulder at the lamp and then back to him. “That’s why you asked if you’d hurt me.”

“Yes. I’ve always been alone when it’s happened before. And the lamp hasn’t been the only casualty. I’ve had to replace quite a few sheets as well.” 

When Megan didn’t respond in any way, he became anxious. “I would never hurt you on purpose.”

“I know that.” She sounded somewhat insulted.

He sighed. “Anyway, I wanted you to know, and I’ll understand if you don’t want to take the risk.”

Megan gave him a funny look. “Are you serious? You really thought I wouldn’t want to sleep in the same bed as you on the off chance that you have another nightmare?”

“I could hurt you, Megan, and I wouldn’t even be aware of it.”

She sat up and turned to face him. “Paul, how much do you know about how I grew up?”

“Only what you’ve told me.” Granted, that wasn’t much. He knew it had been far from a fairy-tale childhood, and that her older sister, Rebecca, had pretty much raised her. Paul also knew that neither Megan nor Rebecca had anything to do with their parents.

“I guess I should probably fill you in, huh?”

“You don’t have to—”

“Yes, I do. If I’m asking you to be open and honest with me, then I owe you the same.”

He couldn’t disagree with her there, and to be honest, he was curious.

Megan straightened her shoulders and took a deep breath. “My dad wasn’t around when I was born. He was in prison.”

Paul blinked, but didn’t say anything.

“You see, my dad had a thing for drugs. Both using and selling. It was small stuff mostly, but he wasn’t very good at evading the law. He was in and out of prison my entire childhood.”

“I’m sorry.” Paul felt as if he should do or say something, but he was at a loss. Being a cop, he saw situations like the one she was describing. It was rough enough to see from the outside looking in.

“To be honest, things were better when he was away. Mom was depressed and drank a lot, but other than that, things weren’t bad. Becca made sure there was food in the house and that the bills were paid. She helped me with my homework and made sure I got to school on time.

“Everything changed whenever Dad was home. The first few days weren’t horrible. He was happy to be out of prison, and he’d hug and kiss us—tell us he loved us, and that things would be different. At first, I believed him. Becca never did, though.”

Paul tugged Megan’s hand into his lap, and rubbed the inside of her wrist with his thumbs. He didn’t know what else to do. 

“About a week would go by, and then one of his friends would stop in to see him. They’d start drinking, and then the drugs would come out.”

“Your father did drugs in the house in front of you?” Anger welled up inside him.

Megan nodded. “Becca always made sure to get us out of there if she could. Or at the very least, she’d stock up on snacks and water, and we’d hide in our room. I can’t tell you how many blanket forts we made during those times.”

It was then Paul understood the connection between Megan and her sister. He knew they were close, but the relationship had always seemed a bit unnatural. Now he knew why. Rebecca had been Megan’s protector. 

“It wasn’t a great childhood, but Becca got me through it. I don’t know if I would have made it without her.”

Paul heard what Megan didn’t say. There would have been no reason to hide if there was no danger. “Megan, did your father ever . . .”

“No. He never hurt me, although he used to knock Mom around sometimes. And I think he got to Becca once or twice. She never said anything, but once I saw some bruises on her arm that looked like fingerprints.”

He’d heard enough. Wrapping her in his arms, he buried his face in the crook of her neck. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”

She circled her arms around his waist and returned his embrace. “Paul, I didn’t tell you all that to make you feel sorry for me. I’m not that little girl anymore.”

Paul pulled back enough to see her face. “I know that.”

Megan ignored his comment. “I told you because I wanted you to understand that I know the difference. You aren’t a violent man, Paul, and I’m not helpless. Nor am I defenseless. If worse comes to worst, I can always go for the family jewels. That would wake you up, for sure.”

She winked at him, taking some of the sting out of her threat. 

“It really doesn’t worry you?”

“Nope.”

He smiled and let the warmth in his chest grow. Paul wasn’t stupid. He recognized the feeling for what it was. He was falling for Megan, and all his reasons why they shouldn’t be together—all the reasons why they couldn’t work—were quickly becoming less and less important. 

Chapter 19

Megan woke up alone this time. They’d made love again before going to sleep in her bed. Paul had been restless near morning, but he didn’t thrash around as he had the day before. She had taken a chance and snuggled up to him. He settled down almost instantly.

She rolled over to look at the clock. It was a little after six thirty in the morning. Paul had to be in to work at eight, so he’d probably left her to sleep while he went to his room to get ready. Tossing the covers off, Megan threw on some clothes, and went in search of coffee.

As Megan measured out the grounds and started the coffeemaker, she couldn’t stop smiling. She and Paul were dating. They were going to explore what was between them. Megan was flying on cloud nine, and she didn’t want to come back down to earth anytime soon.

Arms circled around her waist from behind, and she leaned back into the warm chest crushed against her back. She didn’t know if it could get any better than this.

Paul ran the tip of his nose along her neck. “Good morning.”

“Good morning.” She tilted her head to the side to give him better access.

He placed little kisses along her neck and jaw while he toyed with the skin along her belly beneath her shirt. She felt the heat grow between her legs. All he needed to do was say the word and she was ready.

His next words burst her bubble. “I need to get into the station early, since I took yesterday off.”

She groaned, and he chuckled.

“You can’t still be horny after last night,” he said.

Megan turned in his embrace and wrapped her arms around his neck. He pulled her flush against his body, and whether he admitted it or not, she didn’t think it would take much to get him going either. “I’ve got a newsflash for you, Detective. I have a pretty healthy sex drive.”

He smiled. “Is that so?”

“Yes.” She rubbed up against him seductively to drive home her point.

Paul sucked in a shaky breath. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

She released him, and stepped back. “Oh, but what a way to go.”

He shook his head and adjusted himself.

Megan retrieved their mugs and poured them both a cup of coffee. He gave her a chaste kiss in thanks, and then they both took their places at the kitchen table. 

“Do you think you’ll be working late tonight?” she asked.

“I don’t know. I’m waiting for some documents I requested. If they’re delivered today, I’ll probably stay late to work on them. Otherwise, I should be home around the usual time.”

She nodded and took a sip of her coffee. “I’ll go to the store today and restock the fridge. Did you have any requests for dinner?”

“You don’t have to cook for me, Megan.” 

His statement confused her. “I cook for you all the time.”

“No, you cook for us. Yourself, Chloe, and me. That’s different.”

Megan set her mug down. “No. It’s not. Why are you so against me doing things for you? When I moved in, I had to fight you to do basic chores around the house. Now you don’t want me to make dinner?”

“It’s not that I don’t want you to.” Paul massaged his temple.

It hadn’t been her intention to start their morning off with a fight.

“Then what is it? Please, help me to understand, because I don’t get it.”

He sighed and met her gaze. “I don’t want you to feel as though you have to
do
things for me.”

“And if I want to?”

“Why would you want to?” he countered. “You’re twenty-three years old. You have your whole life ahead of you.”

“Yeah. So?”

“So. I’m a middle-aged man with a five-year-old daughter.”

Megan stared at him. She was starting to get angry. “Why does our age difference bother you so much?”

“Because I don’t want to be the one that holds you back.” With that, he pushed himself away from the table, and went to the sink to dump the rest of his coffee.

“Don’t you think that should be my decision?”

He braced his hands on the counter in front of the sink and bowed his head. “Megan, do you understand what us being together means?”

“Yes.”

Paul turned around to face her. “Are you sure? You’re walking into a ready-made family. Once we’ve crossed that line, there’s no going back.”