Damn Ryan for not giving him a heads-up. Then Cole realized the attorney couldn’t have known it would be an issue for him to see her again. The only people who knew he and Meg had once been involved were Joy and Cole’s brother, Cade.
When he’d first seen Meg his breath had caught in his throat. She was even more beautiful than she’d been in high school. Despite knowing he was playing with fire, Cole couldn’t resist slanting another glance in her direction.
The beauty, which had showed such promise at sixteen, had been fulfilled. The red in her hair had deepened to a rich auburn, the vibrant color a perfect foil for her creamy complexion. From what he could see, her curves were still there, only more womanly than girlish. Her legs were as he remembered: long, slender and sexy as hell.
Ryan cleared his throat and Cole realized he’d been staring like a lovesick seventeen-year-old. Which he wasn’t. Not seventeen. Certainly not lovesick.
“What k-kind of changes did they make?” Margaret asked.
Cole heard the uncertainty in her tone. Obviously Joy or Ty had promised her something. Though he couldn’t imagine there would be much of anything left. The infertility treatments they’d been undergoing had taken all of their savings and then some.
Cole shifted position, hoping to take some pressure off his knee. The surgeon had warned him that if he flew so soon after surgery he was asking for trouble. Dr. Jones had been right. Even the extra leg room in first class hadn’t helped.
He thought of the bottle of pain pills in his luggage with a twinge of regret but then realized even if they were in his pocket right now, he wouldn’t take them. A man had to be alert to care for an active six-year-old.
“The change affects the custody of Charlie.” Ryan cast an apologetic look in his direction.
In his direction.
Cole went hot, then cold. He told himself Joy wouldn’t have cut him out of Charlie’s life. And Ty, he’d talked about wanting his son to have a male role model if anything should happen to him.
None of this was making any sense. Not Joy and Ty making changes to their will that would cause Ryan to look at him apologetically. Not Meg being here. And certainly not the feeling which suddenly gripped him and whispered his life was about to be turned upside down.
“What kind of change?” Meg asked, her tone as tightly strung as a guitar string.
“This was a difficult decision for them,” Ryan said. “Not made lightly.”
“Quit talking around it, Ryan.” Cole pinned his friend with his gaze. “Give it to me straight.”
A look of gratitude filled Meg’s eyes for the briefest of seconds before her lids lowered.
Cole scowled. He didn’t want her gratitude. Didn’t want anything except her gone.
Ryan stared down at the paper on the desk then looked up. “You’re not going to like this—”
“Ryan,” Cole growled, his patience depleted.
“Instead of giving sole custody to either one of you—” Ryan spoke quickly “—Joy and Ty decided that it would be best if you shared custody.”
Meg gasped.
Cole swore he could hear her heart pounding. Or was that his? Regardless, he must have misunderstood. He cleared his throat. “If who shared custody?”
Ryan met his gaze. “You and Margaret.”
“That’s absurd.” Meg’s green eyes flashed, showing a bit of the spirit he remembered.
“Ryan.” Cole gripped the sides of his chair until his knuckles turned white. “There is no me and Margaret.”
“Their will is very specific on that matter.” The attorney rose to his feet and smiled. “Now that we’ve got that out of the way, can I get either one of you a soda or a bottle of water before we go through the specifics?”
Margaret fought the urge to laugh hysterically. Her entire world had been turned upside down and Ryan wanted to give her a bottle of water?
“Forget the water,” she muttered. “Give me a scotch.”
She wasn’t sure where the words came from. When she drank—which was rarely—she preferred wine over hard liquor.
Cole’s hand dropped to massage his leg. “Make mine a double.”
Ryan’s eyes widened before he chuckled and reached inside a small refrigerator. “Three bottles of water coming right up.”
Share custody with Cole? Was that really what the attorney had said?
Margaret closed her eyes. She had to be dreaming. Other than a nightmare, there could be no other explanation. But when she opened her eyes, Ryan was pushing a cold plastic bottle into her hand and Cole Lassiter still sat beside her.
“Read it again, Ry.” Cole unscrewed the cap on his bottle. “Ty and Joy asked me if I’d raise Charlie if anything should happen to them. That was Labor Day weekend. Not even three months ago. They didn’t mention one word about sharing custody with her.”
Cole jerked a thumb in her direction.
“Well, when they asked me, they never said you’d be in the picture,” Margaret retorted, even as her heart sank. If Cole was telling the truth, his conversation with Joy had been much more recent than hers.
“Children, stop right now. I want us all to take a deep breath.” By the smile tugging at his lips, Ryan appeared more amused than troubled by their reactions. “There are some terms and conditions to being appointed Charlie’s guardians. Terms you will need to carefully consider.”
Margaret didn’t need to consider anything. The little boy who’d sobbed in her arms needed her. Not to mention she’d promised Joy and Ty she’d take care of him. And, unlike the man sitting beside her, her word meant something.
Ryan took a sip of his water then gestured for her to do the same.
Although Margaret wasn’t particularly thirsty, she brought the bottle to her lips and let the cool liquid run down her throat. To her surprise, she felt herself relax. This would be okay. Joy had been her friend. She wouldn’t have put Margaret in a bad position.
Cole placed his water on the desk, a look of steely determination in his eyes. “I want to hear the terms, then I want a copy of the will for my attorneys to go over.”
“Oh, my attorneys,” Margaret said in a mocking tone. “If that was an attempt to impress me—or perhaps even scare me—let me tell you right now, it didn’t work.”
His gaze met hers and for a second she recalled what it felt like to drown in those eyes.
“I run a business so I have attorneys.” Cole’s expression darkened. “Trust me, I couldn’t care less if I impress you or not.”
Trust him? Margaret would sooner trust a weasel. But trust him or not, if Cole had an attorney, she’d best get one, too. But while she knew several lawyers in Nebraska, they didn’t deal with custody issues. Hadn’t Lexi said her husband, Nick, was a family-law attorney? “I’d like a copy also. For my attorney to review.”
Cole pressed his lips together and shifted positions.
“I’ll get the papers run off for you,” Ryan said, suddenly all business. “Now about the terms…”
Margaret reached into her bag and retrieved a small notepad and pen. As Ryan read, she took notes. Her horror grew with each additional stipulation. By the time the attorney finished, Margaret was ready to forget the glass of scotch. She needed a whole bottle.
“Let