Seven
She didn’t stay the night with Isaac. Not that she rushed off immediately following the best sex of her life. They lay in his bed for a long while, sifting through and crafting details about their imaginary island vacay. She doubted they would share most of them with the public, but she found herself enjoying having a secret. It was a bit like writing her own fairy tale, with an ending she would choose. The trick, in this case, was to lose herself in the moment and then, when the moment was over, treasure it. Which worked well for her as she was allergic to planning. Kendall was the planner and plotter. Meghan preferred to go in the direction of the wind.
Staying over would have also prompted too many questions from Kendall and Max. When Isaac had driven her home in his rented BMW, he’d taken Meghan’s side and had agreed that their siblings needed to mind their own business. He hammered home the point when he mentioned Max had zero room to talk after impersonating Isaac not so long ago.
The next morning over pancakes—Max, unlike his twin, had no aversion to cooking and did it very well—Meghan was once again exposed to a Max-and-Kendall face suck. This time at the table.
A well-timed phone call saved her from awkwardly excusing herself. Not that Kendall and Max noticed the phone ringing. They were no longer making out, but they didn’t tear their eyes from one another to acknowledge Meghan walking out of the room, either.
Outside on the patio, she curled her shoulders and braced against the chilly air. The fall day was cloudy and cool, an earlier rain having left the grass and trees both soggy and limp.
“Hi, Mom,” Meghan answered after lifting the phone to her ear.
“Sorry I missed your call, sweetheart. Your father and I were at the grocery store arguing over which brand of peanut butter was best.”
Meghan smiled. Her mother’s exasperated tone held a note of humor. Her parents had a strong marriage, one that had grown stronger after Quinton had died. It’d always been a source of curiosity to Meghan how a shared tragedy tore some couples apart yet brought others closer.
“How is Virginia?”
“It’s lovely. I’m spending a lot of time with Kendall...when she’s not spending it with Max.” Which was practically never.
“New love can be irritating when you’re single. At least that’s what my single friends used to tell me when your father and I started dating about a hundred years ago.”
“I can imagine. You and Dad still have that new-love vibe, which is thoroughly embarrassing at times,” Meghan teased. A beat of silence descended, and she thought she’d better tell her mother why she’d called in the first place. “Mom, I need a favor.”
“What’s wrong?” The panic in her mother’s voice reminded Meghan of every other phone call with her mom. Whether she’d run out of gas on the highway, or had forgotten her purse and couldn’t pay for groceries, she’d phoned her mother to ask for help on more than a few occasions.
“Nothing’s wrong. I’ve decided to stay in Virginia awhile longer. I don’t see Kendall very often and I’m not ready to leave.” Her voice climbed an octave, a sure tell that she was lying. While she wasn’t exactly lying, she was fudging the truth a bit. Her reason for staying had less to do with vying for her sister’s attention and more to do with the sexy man she’d shared a bed with for a few hours last night. “Anyway, I underpacked. Would you mind shipping me some of the clothes I keep at your house?”
Meghan spent the occasional weekend with her parents. The family home was about an hour and a half away from the farmhouse she rented. She didn’t always enjoy eating dinner alone—plus, her mom was a fantastic cook and Meghan...well, wasn’t.
“How much longer are you staying?”
“I’m not sure. Maybe a month.”
“A month! Meghan, honey, what about your bills? Your job? Your responsibilities at home?”
Meghan gritted her teeth. She’d known asking her mother for this favor would include a lecture. “I pay my bills online. My job is portable, and I have a rental. The house is locked up and secure. If you could just send some clothes for me, that would be great.”
“I’m sorry,” her mother surprised her by saying. “I worry about you, is all. I know you’re in good hands there with Kendall.”
Kendall, the responsible sister. Meghan tried not to take offense but sometimes it was difficult not to read too much into her mother’s comments.
“Does extending your stay have anything to do with you meeting Max’s brother?”
Meghan turned to glare at the back of her sister’s head. Had Kendall mentioned Meghan’s date with Isaac? To their mom? Last night was supposed to be way under the parent radar.
“We adore Max,” her mom continued. “When we popped out to visit a month ago, we were sold. Such a lovely man. I’m sure his brother...what’s his name?”
Guess they were doing this. Meghan sighed and then answered, “Isaac.”
“I’m sure if Isaac is half as nice as Max, you were ready to faint. Where did you go? Did you tell him you used to have a crush on him when you were younger? That you had a poster of him hanging over your bed? Are you two—”
“There’s more to the story, Mom.”
Meghan put her hand on her forehead, ignoring the sweat dampening her palm. She and Isaac would soon share their “love story” with the masses, which meant her parents would need to be fed that same story. She had little choice but to string them along as well. The truth was too bizarre, and would no doubt come with another lecture—something she’d had plenty of since she’d arrived in Dunn.
Deep breath. You can do this.
“A few months back when Max and Kendall were snowed in and shooting the commercial for Citizen watches, I was on Isaac’s private island with him. It started out innocently. I was planning an exclusive behind-the-scenes podcast to help promote the show Brooks Knows Best. As it turns out we have a lot in common. We became friends and then, well...” She sucked in a breath and blew out the words. “Isaac is sort of... my boyfriend?”
“Your boyfriend? For how long?” Her mom gasped. “Honey, why didn’t you tell me about this?”
“Isaac is a private person.” That seemed true.
“Goodness, Meghan.” She braced for censure, but her mom laughed before exclaiming, “How exciting!”
“What?”
“You’ve found someone. I’m thrilled!”
Ah, that made more sense. Her mom was glad to have someone else involved in the handling and care of her youngest child.
“Ed! Our other daughter is in love!” her mother shouted to Meghan’s dad.
Marjorie chattered to Ed about Meghan’s newfound love life, pausing to ask twenty questions. Once the lightning round was finished, she promised to ship Meghan’s clothes ASAP. They exchanged I-love-yous and, exhausted by the exchange, Meghan ended the call and stepped back inside.
She half expected Kendall to be at the table slurping maple syrup off Max’s perfectly groomed beard, but instead she found only abandoned plates. And her sister’s robe lying at the top of the staircase.
Meghan grabbed her own plate and piled it high with more pancakes, lamenting that she didn’t have her own place with some privacy. Last night had been a fantastic escape. She and Isaac had had all the privacy and sensuality Meghan could hope for.
Halfway through her second sweet bite of pancakes, she was smiling at a memory of Isaac’s perfect mouth and the feel of his hands on her body. Of the way he’d stroked her arm after sex and murmured in a low sensual tone about their imaginary island getaway. The way, earlier in the evening, he’d peeled her out of her dress and—