The Marine's Secret Daughter. Carrie Nichols

I should get back there. Glad you’re feeling better.” The teen turned to leave.

      “Wait.” Riley pressed some bills into Kevin’s hand. “Don’t want to forget to pay you for the pizza and have you be responsible.”

      The boy glanced at the money. “Oh, hey, but that’s way too—”

      “Keep it.” Riley shrugged. “We kept you here talking when you could’ve been collecting more tips.”

      The kid shoved the wadded bills into his pocket. “Uh, yeah, sure. Thanks, man. And if you need help with the basement...”

      “I’ll be in touch after I make an initial inspection,” Riley told him.

      “Sure, sure.” Kevin nodded. “Well, uh...have a nice night.”

      “Stay safe,” Meg called as Riley shut the door and flipped the dead bolt.

      Riley turned and stared at her. “Ms. McBride?”

      Her mouth twitched. “I did my student teaching at the high school.”

      “I think you have an admirer.” He playfully bumped shoulders.

      “If you ask me, he had a few stars in his eyes when he looked at you.” She grinned.

      “Seems like a decent kid,” Riley remarked as he flipped open the pizza box, filling the air with the scent of warm dough and pepperoni.

      “He is. Kevin’s had it rough, but I think he’s on the right path.”

      “Bad home life?” After Riley’s parents split, each had used him as a weapon against the other. He’d hated getting shuttled from one to the other, hated new people coming into his life for short periods of time, then disappearing as each parent dated and, most of all, he’d hated the emotional void he’d had to endure as they got so caught up in their own pain and they’d ignored his. The marines had given him the structure and the sense of belonging he’d craved as a child.

      “Kevin’s mom left when he was young. His dad is rarely sober and often out of work.” Meg rubbed a finger across one eyebrow. “Kevin was left to his own devices.”

      “That’s gotta be rough. He’s lucky he has you to look out for him.” He set a pizza slice on a napkin and pushed it toward her before taking one for himself.

      Imagine, his little Meggie an authority figure to teenagers. His chest tightened. What else had he missed? “Looks like you’ve made a place for yourself in the Loon Lake community.”

      “And all the stuff that goes with it.” She heaved a sigh and sank into the wooden chair at the small round table, reaching for one of the sodas he’d bought.

      He frowned. “Problem?”

      “Between the ER and now the motel, gossip will be circling around Loon Lake like Martin Evers’s homing pigeons.” She pulled the soda can tab with a sharp snap and laughed. “I wish my real life was as interesting as the one everyone will be talking about.”

      He settled into the seat opposite her. “I don’t see the harm, you’re an adult. And Kevin proved it by calling you Ms. McBride.”

      “Yeah, still getting used to that part.” She shook her head. “Still, I would prefer not to be the subject of gossip.”

      “It’s pretty harmless.” He folded his slice in half lengthwise and took a bite.

      “I... I have more than myself to think of.” She ran her fingertip along the ridge of the soda can.

      Riley chewed and set the rest of the slice on the napkin. Was there someone—someone special—she didn’t want to hear the gossip? “Maybe you’d like to explain that.”

      She stared at her hands for a moment before looking up, meeting his gaze. “I guess it’s going to come out anyway... I have a daughter. Her name’s Fiona.”

      “Oh...huh.” Well, that explained who Fiona was. But...Meg was a mother? He hadn’t seen that coming. He recalled Meg as a little girl with that mass of red hair, freckles and those beautiful eyes. Did her daughter look like her? His throat tightened with longing for something he couldn’t—or wouldn’t—name. He’d made his choice six years ago and now he had no right to any possessiveness or room for regrets.

      After Meg’s first letter, he’d received orders to report to a marine expeditionary unit and spent months deep in Afghanistan’s desolate countryside. Due to a snafu, he hadn’t received the rest of her letters until getting back to a forward operating base. Someone had bundled the letters as if preparing to return them. Before he could open them, fate had intervened in the form of an IED, killing and maiming his fellow marines, and he’d decided to set Meg free without ever reading the letters, afraid he’d change his mind if he did.

      “Are you and the child’s father still—” he cleared his throat before continuing “—involved?”