Eight
Whatever shock had come over her when Isaac blurted out they were engaged—seriously, why?—vanished into the ether when she laid eyes on... “Merilyn Case and Richard Rind.”
It was impossible to conceal the awe in her voice. These two were practically rock stars—as big or a bigger part of her childhood than Isaac Dunn. The parents Brooks had been ports during the storm swirling around her after her brother had died. And here they were, in person, reaching out to shake her hand!
“It’s so nice to meet you.” She clasped the shorter woman’s hand in both of hers. One of the women she’d looked up to her entire life, and she was shorter than Meghan. How strange. “I love you.”
“Why, thank you, dear.” Merilyn good-naturedly patted Meghan’s hand before addressing Isaac. “She’s darling. No wonder you’re nuts about her.”
“Isaac mentioned he’d bring you by set and we demanded to be present when he did.” Richard took her hands in his own next. “He’s like a son to us.”
It sank in slowly, and somewhat surreally, that Isaac had talked about her with his costars. This pretend relationship-turned-engagement was feeling more significant than before.
They excused themselves, reminding Isaac they’d meet him on set in ten minutes. That didn’t give her much time to say what she needed to say. He led her to a conference room, popping the door open and flipping on the light.
“Nice work, Squire. You can add improv to the list of your talents. You caught on to exactly what I was—”
“That’s not why I’m here.” She didn’t mean to snap, but she was running out of time, and she needed to talk to someone. She wouldn’t be mentioning their accident to anyone else if she could help it.
“Okay.” He folded his arms and leaned on the conference room table stacked with scripts for what she guessed was an upcoming table read. “Let’s hear it.”
Fiddling with the ring on her index finger, she paced to the end of the long table, and then back. How had she not settled on what to say on the way here? Once she’d arrived, there’d been no time to think about anything other than the fact that he’d been proposing to her, after which she’d met her TV in-laws.
God, this was so strange.
“Hey.” Isaac caught her elbow before she made a return trip to the opposite side of the room. “You can talk to me, Meghan. About whatever it is.”
“Even if it’s about last night.”
His smile was gentle. He pulled her to stand between his spread legs, draping his arms around her waist. “Especially if it was about last night.”
“There was...there was something missing.” She raised both eyebrows, hoping her alarmed expression would clue him in.
His throat bobbed as he swallowed. “You mean emotionally,” he wrongly concluded.
“No. I mean prophylactically.”
Realization dawned on his face like a glass toppling off a high shelf. Slow to fall, and then shattering all at once. “But you—But I—You didn’t say anything.”
“I was too busy having orgasms.” She’d been so caught up in the moment—the fantasy—that she’d neglected reality once again. How many times had her older sister told her to pull her head out of the clouds? Too many to count. “This really hot guy I’ve had a crush on for half my life was seducing me.”
He clasped her chin, not as upset as she’d expected. “I thought you were seducing me, Squire. I was a goner.”
“Really?” she whispered. His citrusy, outdoorsy scent had her fantasizing of a repeat of last night.
“Hell, yeah.” He kissed her and, when he did, she forgot about the seriousness of this conversation and hauled him as close to her as possible. He spun her and pressed her back against the wall, his tongue stroking hers as his hands wandered beneath her jacket. He cradled one of her breasts as she palmed the bulge rapidly forming at the front of his jeans. In turn, he nibbled a path from her jaw to her ear. By the time she was shrugging the leather jacket from her shoulders, her back arching so she could touch as many of his hard planes at once as possible, his low, rocky voice snapped her out of a sensual fog.
“I’m starting to understand how we forgot a condom.”
Yes, so was she. Maybe it had less to do with her scatterbrained personality than she’d originally suspected. They’d been seducing each other, and neither of them had paused long enough to think about the repercussions of having unprotected sex.
Slipping her hair behind her ear, he offered a steady smile. “We’ll be more careful in the future. You have nothing to worry about in the STD department. I’m adamant about protecting myself. Usually. You had me in a state.”
“Tell me about it.” She arched one eyebrow and couldn’t help smiling at the most handsome man to have ever curled her toes. “I don’t want to imagine what might happen as a result of our forgetfulness.”
“Then don’t.” He kissed her hand, his smattering of perfectly groomed scruff tickling her skin. “Most couples have to try and try and try to get pregnant. My cousin Rose and her husband, Jack, tried for years before they conceived. One time usually doesn’t do it.”