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Paige’s eyes widened, then she grinned. “Oh, so that’s what’s got him in a knot. Want some breakfast?”

Meg rose. “I’m not very hungry, but if it’ll take my mind off what I did, yes.”

Together they searched the cupboards and ’fridge; eggs, ham, bread, napkins, and place settings.

“You know my mother always used to say to me, only when we are no longer afraid do we begin to live,” Paige offered.

“How eloquent,” she said as she raised her hand and discovered that Cody had left a love mark on the inside of her wrist. Something warm and mushy spread across her tummy.

“Live with no excuses and love with no regrets,” Paige said as she whipped up two omelets.

“Ahh.”

“Life is a quest, and love a quarrel.”

Meg’s eyebrows flew upward. “Wow. Your mother was full of sayings.”

“She was.” Paige nodded, then frowned. “I think she just refused to talk about herself, so she quoted Hallmark.” She smirked, Slicing thinly through the ham.

Meg was only partly present in the conversation. Her mind kept drifting to last night, the sensations. The total hotness of the man. The way he kissed me. The way he lost control …

Her skin pricked in remembrance of his touch, and her sensitized nipples beaded under her sleep shirt.

“So,” Paige said, clearly noticing, “I don’t think you got around to telling me what happened.”

Urging herself to get busy, Megan slipped two slices of bread into the toaster, and when she opened her mouth to reply, swiftly closed it. She didn’t know what had happened. There was more to the man than his organized clothing attested to, and something about Ivan touching her, kissing her, had sent Cody’s instincts flaring to life.

So would he have never kissed her if his dirty brother hadn’t first?

The thought left her miserable, especially when he was gone this morning. Would it have killed him to leave a note?

“Plates?” She offered them to Paige.

“Please.” Paige finished the eggs, added a slice of ham and toast to each plate, and carried them with her to the kitchen table. “You know, he looked like shit this morning—but he was wearing a kick-ass tie.”

Meg laughed softly and set two cups of coffee on the table. “Yeah, Cody and his ties.”

“He left a message for you.”

Her heart tumbled to her toes, then she jumped to her feet. “Where? Give it to me!” She snatched the envelope from Paige’s outstretched hands.

She didn’t expect him to say something mushy and sweet. Cody wasn’t like that. But she didn’t expect what she read either.

I’m sorry.

C.

At first, she did not react, only stood there, staring at his note. Then, she sat down, thinking.

During the first week after his parents’ murder, there was a fury in Cody’s gaze. Rage. Megan had hoped that later, there would be understanding. His brother had murdered them: not Cody. But the day he left with his adopting relatives from Texas and he’d looked at her window from the car, she had seen a horrible emptiness in his eyes. No rage. No understanding. Only a terrifying emptiness.

She had been haunted by that boy, had made thousands of wishes on his behalf. He had left a broken boy, but had returned a mended man. Though only Megan knew the depths of the little cracks he hid inside.

Cody could be Mr. Hollywood to his colleagues. He smiled, and joked around, and ribbed, but the truth was, he didn’t allow anyone to get close and the tactic had worked for him.

He was on his own.

But last night, he had not been alone.


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