The champagne arrived, and Luke allowed the flight attendant to pour the sparkling liquid into two chilled flutes.
He turned toward Megan and touched his glass to hers. “To us.”
She lifted the glass to her lips, took a sip, then crinkled her nose and sneezed. “Oh! The bubbles got to me,” she said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to spoil your toast.”
He touched his glass to hers a second time and said, “Let’s try that again.”
They did, and Megan managed to keep her ticklish nose under control.
She settled back against the seat and listened while Luke filled her in on his family, loving the sound of his voice, deep and sure. She’d done the right thing letting the judge get in contact with Luke. Who was she kidding? She hadn’t had any choice. Judge Benson had practically blackmailed her into it! Either she gave her Luke’s details, or Cody would be sent to juvenile detention that very night.
It’d been easy to get Luke’s number. He’d been at the ranch his family had lived on for four generations. Megan had asked to leave before the judge spoke to him. She didn’t want to be in the room and hear Judge Benson going through a long explanation of who Megan was and hearing him deny that he knew her, hearing him insist he couldn’t possibly have fathered her child. The denial would’ve hurt too much.
When Judge Benson called Megan that night, she’d told her Luke was arriving the next day and they’d be meeting in her chambers. Stunned by the swiftness of his response, she’d asked, “Did he remember me?” and instantly cursed herself for sounding so desperate, so adolescent.
It gave her a tiny thrill when the judge said, “Of course he does, Megan. He seems like a very pleasant man, if a little dazed at the news that he has a son. He’ll be in my chambers tomorrow at noon. Please be there with Cody.”
“Of course I will. And, Judge Benson, thank you so much for taking the time to care about Cody.”
“It’s my pleasure, Megan,” the judge had told her. “At this point, as I explained to you earlier, I think the best thing for him is to meet his father. I’ll take it from there.”
“H-how do you know that’s the best thing. You haven’t met Luke. He could be an ax murderer or…or—”
The judge had laughed heartily. “An ax murderer with a voice like that and a glowing character reference from both the local sheriff and a county judge? I don’t think so. See you at noon tomorrow.”
The judge had hung up before Megan got a chance to question her further. Megan hadn’t slept a wink.
“…then there’s Matt. He’s married to Beth.”
Megan was brought back to the present, wondering how much she’d missed of what Luke had said.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Luke asked. “You were looking at me, but I don’t think you were taking much in.”
“I…I guess I’m just tired.” She shrugged. “Jet lag.”
“It’s only 6:00 p.m. New York time. You can’t be that tired.”
Luke held his hand to her forehead. She told herself not to think anything of it. His apparent concern probably meant as much now as it had back then. Nothing.
Luke took the champagne glass out of her hand and pressed the flight attendant call button. When the woman appeared, he handed her the glass and said, “My wife isn’t feeling well. Could you get her a cool compress.”
My wife. The words had Megan’s heart pounding. They sounded so good. So…possessive. Normally, she would’ve backed away from such a notion. But those words—coming from Luke—had sounded…like something she very much needed to hear.
“I’m fine,” she assured him. “I’m just a little tired. I didn’t sleep well last night.” Megan wished she could take that statement back, not wanting Luke to know she’d been terrified about today’s meeting.
But if she was honest with herself, she’d liked his take-charge attitude. She’d especially appreciated it when he’d dealt with her boss at the supermarket where she stocked shelves each evening. When Luke had asked for the phone numbers of her workplaces, she’d had to explain, embarrassed to the core, that she’d been fired from her job at a call center that morning. Her boss there had been unwilling to give her time off so she could attend the meeting at Judge Benson’s chambers, claiming he’d cut her too much slack already over her son. Furthermore, her boss at the supermarket had told her that if she was late for work one more time, she’d be looking for another job.
This morning, she’d been frantic, worrying how she’d pay the rent if she lost not just one job, but two. She’d been mortified as she told Luke, watching his face crease—with disgust.
She’d thought the disgust was aimed at her until he’d pulled out his cell phone, dialed the number she gave him and told Jerry at the supermarket that his wife, Megan O’Malley, was moving to Colorado that day and therefore wouldn’t be reporting for work that evening. She could hear Jerry sputtering on the other end of the phone. Luke had cut him off with a sharp, “You threatened to fire Megan if she got to work late this evening. This is a courtesy call to let you know she won’t be in tonight—or any night.” Luke had then given him a post office box number to send her paycheck to and impressed on her ex-boss that he expected the check to arrive within the week; otherwise, he’d be taking action. After repeating virtually the same threat to Pat Reagan at the call center, Luke closed his phone and smiled at her. “I hope you don’t mind, but I won’t have you fired from two jobs in one day.”
“Better for me to quit at least one of them?” she’d asked, still a little stunned by what Luke had done.
“Exactly. I have a feeling your self-esteem has taken quite a battering over the past months. I’m going to help change that.”
At that promise, Megan started to fall a little in love with him all over again. Although she’d fought her own battles over the years, it was heaven to have someone in her corner for a change. And Luke was right about her self-esteem. It had never been particularly high, but having to work menial, minimum-wage jobs to make ends meet, while pursuing her studies, had caused her sense of worth to plummet. To further realize that all her sacrifices to provide a better life for her and her son were amounting to nothing made her feel as if she was on a nosedive to nowhere.
The flight attendant reappeared, handed the compress to Luke. He placed it on Megan’s forehead. “This should help,” he said. “Now, close your eyes and get some sleep.”
She forced herself to breathe deeply and slowly, allowing each part of her body to relax. She succumbed to sleep, her last conscious thought: What happens tonight?
LUKE WATCHED MEGAN SLEEP, feeling a protectiveness toward her he’d never felt for Tory.
Even when Tory had supposedly miscarried months after they married, he hadn’t felt anything for her. He should have ended the marriage then, when she’d claimed to lose the baby, but Tory had threatened suicide, so he’d stayed, feeling responsible for her.
It wasn’t until many years later that he discovered Tory hadn’t been pregnant. He’d been such a fool, allowing Tory to dupe him into marrying her.
Luke turned his attention to Megan, determined to purge any thoughts or regrets about Tory from his mind.
She sure was different from the girl he’d known nearly fifteen years ago. Back then, if the bubbles had gotten up Megan’s nose, she would’ve giggled and asked for more. She wouldn’t have apologized for anything. What had made her change? She seemed so unsure of herself. She’d been an economics undergrad back then. He’d been under the impression that she came from a wealthy family, since she was attending Wellesley College, wore a Rolex and her ski suit, boots and skis were top-of-the-line. She and her