Heart And Soul (Angel Sands 8)

Instead, she’d gotten a phone call from a lawyer explaining that Rich was filing a civil harassment restraining order against Carlyn, and asking if she was willing to file one, too. He’d sent her some details which she’d completed, but there was no contact from Rich.

And it hurt. That was the truth. She’d somehow let herself fall for him. She’d believed him when he’d told her he wanted to be with her, no matter what. Let herself be taken in by the fairytale when it was never going to have a happily ever after.

“No. No guy.” She faked a smile at Natalie.

“Isla kept mentioning somebody last night. Rich?” Natalie’s glasses had slipped down her nose, and she was looking at Meghan over the rim. “Said she wanted to call him but you wouldn’t let her.”

“He’s our neighbor. She’s got a little crush on him.”

“Oh.” Natalie gave a half smile. “Best not tell Dylan about that.”

“Best not tell Dylan about what?” He walked out of the kitchen doors carrying a red can, and lifted it up to his mouth to take a huge gulp.

“That we both agree you’re not the best drummer in the world.” Natalie winked at Meghan. There was a look in her eye that told Meghan it wasn’t the end of their conversation.

Dylan blinked. “That’s bull…” His eyes widened. “I mean, baloney. Sorry.” He glanced over at Isla, who was oblivious to his cursing. “I gotta get used to little ears.” He frowned, and tipped his head to the side. “Who’s a better drummer than me?”

Natalie took her sunglasses off. There was a twinkle in her eye. Dylan sat on the end of her lounger, holding his soda but not drinking it. “Dave Grohl.”

“Nope. Doesn’t count. He’s a singer more than a drummer. Try again.” Dylan leaned closer to Natalie, his eyes narrowed.

They were staring at each other like they were the only two people in the world. Over their shoulders, Meghan could see Isla splashing happily as she used her arms to scull along the water, her body laid out on the float.

A wave of melancholy washed over her. As welcoming as they’d been, and as beautiful as their house was, she felt like an intruder. Next time Dylan was in town, he’d probably ask for Isla to come stay with him alone. And of course she’d let him, but the thought made her chest ache.

“Okay, Keith Moon,” Natalie said, her voice husky.

“He’s dead. Try again,” Dylan replied, leaning closer to Natalie. There was an intensity to their conversation that built a force field around them. This was what true love looked like.

And she ached for it.

Natalie’s grin was mischievous, her chin lifted. “Ringo Star.” She said it with a laugh. Dylan lunged forward and grabbed her by the waist, standing to sling her over his shoulder like a fireman, then he stomped over to the pool and threw her in. Natalie squealed, and disappeared beneath the surface, ripples circling out to the edge of the pool.

“Are you kidding me?” Dylan said when she resurfaced. “Ringo fu— I mean, freaking Starr? Don’t utter those words in this house again or you’ll pay.” He jumped into the pool after her, pulling his legs up to make a cannon ball. As he entered the pool, a tidal wave of water exploded around him, soaking Natalie even more than she already was.

Isla was laughing. She jumped off the float she’d been laying on and swam toward them. Dylan scooped her up and she laughed again, her red hair flying around her as he launched her into the air.

Meghan’s eyes stung. A single tear escaped from one corner, pooling at the rim of her glasses where it met her cheek. She wiped it away. She wasn’t

ready to cry. Once she started, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to stop.

It’s been fun. That’s what Rich said when he’d broke it off with her. Was that all it had ever been for him? Because for her it had been so much more. It had been perfect. It had been everything.

It had been love.

And now that she’d lost it she had to figure out how to smile again.

“Hey. How are you doing?” Harper’s warm voice echoed through Meghan’s phone. Dylan, Natalie, and Isla had gone out for the day. They’d begged her to join them, but she’d refused. It was important for them to build bonds without her. After a few days here she trusted them. And they had the ever watchful Ger with them to make sure nothing happened.

She’d spent the morning by the pool, trying – and failing – to concentrate on a novel she’d found on Dylan’s bookshelves. He’d told her to help herself when they’d arrived. It was amazing how many of them were personally signed to him. She guessed he either had a lot of author friends or was a publicity manager’s dream.

“Hi. We’re doing okay. Still in LA. We come home tomorrow.” The thought of it made her throat feel tight. What would happen the next time she saw Rich in the hallway? Would he smile and be his usual friendly self, or would he ignore them?

What if he brought another woman home? Her stomach lurched as she tried to push that thought down. What a tangled web they’d woven. He’d warned her that he messed things up and she hadn’t listened.

She should have. Because now it was her mess too and it had edges so sharp they cut.

“So how are you really doing?” Harper probed. Meghan’s brave act wasn’t fooling her.