Evolving Dreams (New Beginnings Series) (21 page)

Sheila and Doug stepped up behind Meg as she said, “Hey, Sean. What’s going on?”

He sneered at her. “What’s going on? You came out smelling like a rose and I got the shaft. That’s what’s going on.”

“That’s it!” Trace grabbed his arm and threw the sliding door open, pushing Sean inside ahead of him. Their parents and Meg, with her parents, followed. She looked back at Tobi and whispered, “I’ll be okay.” Tobi went back down to the beach to join the others.

As they all stepped into the house they noticed Steffy standing in the living room. “Great!” Trace muttered. “Steffy . . . why the hell did you bring him here?” He knew Sean was too drunk to have gotten there on his own.

She looked down her nose at him. “He just wanted to talk to Meg. She hasn’t been taking his calls.” She glared over at Meg.

Meg glared right back. “I didn’t take his calls because I didn’t have anything to say to him. We’re not partners anymore.”

“I know,” Steffy said smugly. “
We’re
partners now.”

Claire stepped up to Steffy. “I guess you’re Steffy. I’m Claire Morgan, Sean’s mother.”

Steffy started to look a little uncomfortable. It was clear she hadn’t expected this. She looked over at Sean.

Sean started toward Meg. “Meg, I need to talk to you.”

“Why? I won’t let you try to make me feel bad about the way things turned out. None of it would have happened if you hadn’t made the choices you made.”

His head dropped. “I know. I’m sorry!”

Steffy’s back went up. “Sean! Don’t apologize to
her
! What are you doing?”

Claire glared at her. “You stay out of it. We all know you started this.”

She started to say something, but then realized she’d better be careful what she said to Sean’s mother. He probably wouldn’t stand for her disrespecting his mom. She closed her mouth.

Sean looked at his parents, then Meg. “I just wanted to know what Meg’s plans were. Maybe she could keep Steffy and me in the loop. Throw us some information or contacts.” He swayed a little and then dropped to the couch.

Meg went over and sat down on the coffee table in front of him, looking into his eyes. “Sean, I have no idea what my plans are. I have nothing lined up. I don’t even have any feelers out yet. Even if I did, I don’t know that I could help you.”

Sean just stared into her eyes and nodded.

“I won’t go around trashing you, though, Sean. That’s all I can promise you. I won’t, however, talk up Steffy to anyone.
You
may have my support, but she never will. I don’t have a good impression of her and I won’t pretend I do,” she said firmly.

Steffy started sputtering, “How dare you! You don’t even know me. Who do you think you are?”

Meg just stood up and looked around the room ignoring her. “We have guests out there. I’m going out to check on them.” She turned and left the house.

Trace started to hoist Sean off the sofa and Michael said, “Sean, why don’t you come back and stay with us tonight? We have a suite and there’s plenty of room.”

“I don’t know, Dad,” Sean started.

Michael took him by the arms and stared into his eyes. “I really need to talk to you, Sean. You haven’t returned our calls and I need to spend some time with you. Just you . . . alone.” He glanced over at Steffy who started sputtering again.

“Yeah, okay.” Sean was starting to look even more defeated than he had earlier.

Michael looked over at Steffy. “I’m sure you can get yourself home. We’ll take Sean with us.”

Claire hugged Trace and Sheila and asked them to say their goodbyes to Meg. As they were leading Sean out the front door, Steffy followed close behind, arguing the whole way that if they weren’t going to let Sean go home with her they should at least let her go with them to the hotel. They didn’t even let on that they heard her.

Trace shut the door behind them and turned around to look at Sheila and Doug. No one knew what to say. They just shook their heads and headed out the back door to check on Meg and the party guests. He noticed Meg standing off to the side with Marcy, Tobi and Anthony. He knew she was getting more sympathy than she wanted. The rest of the guests seemed more subdued than they had before, most of them sitting around the fire pit. He jogged down the steps hoping he could get the party started again.

Things perked up a little when the guests saw Meg smiling and trying to act like everything was just peachy keen. Her parents and Trace noticed the smile wasn’t quite reaching her eyes, but played along anyway. It wasn’t too long, however, before people started to leave. An hour later all the guests were gone except for Sheila, Doug and Sonny. Meg was trying to shoo them out the door, though, telling them they had helped out enough. She and Trace could handle the clean up.

“We’ll just worry about getting the leftover food put away. We can clean up the rest tomorrow.” She smiled reassuringly. “We’ll be fine. Won’t we, Trace?”

“Yeah. The food won’t take long to put away.” He kissed Sheila on the cheek. “Thanks for everything.” Sheila patted his cheek and Doug shook his hand, then they left through the front door.

Sonny looked at Trace doubtfully. “Really, dude. I can stick around and help.”

“No, really, Sonny. You’ve done enough. I appreciate all your help today.”

“Well, it was a great party . . . until Sean showed up. It really was a good time.”

“Yeah, it was.” Trace clasped his hand and shoulder-bumped him . . . that weird move that served as a guy-hug. Meg smiled to herself.

Sonny started toward the back door. “I’m just going to shovel some sand on the fire pit. Make sure it’s good and doused.”

“Okay . . . thanks, Sonny!” Meg walked over to give him a hug. Then he was gone and she turned around to find Trace watching her with concern.

“I’m fine! Don’t look at me like that. I had to see him sometime. It’s just as well we got it over with.” She turned toward the kitchen and got to work. “Do you want to just check to make sure there are no plates and food scraps left around outside? We don’t want to be inundated by seagulls at sunrise tomorrow.”

“Sure thing.” He headed out the back door.

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

After they had finished the kitchen clean up, and all that was left to do was picking up the party paraphernalia, filling in the fire pit and generally setting Trace’s house back to normal the next day, they crashed side by side on the couch.

“Whew!” Meg exclaimed.

Trace pulled her down so she was lying on her back with him on his side up against the back of the couch, both arms wrapped around her. He looked down into her face. “It was fun, though, wasn’t it?”

“It was,” she answered. Her brow furrowed. “I hope everyone didn’t get too bummed out at the end. I’d hate for that to be the part of the party everyone remembers.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it. I think everyone had a good time. Let’s not even think about that part.” He smiled at her.

She gazed searchingly into his eyes. “I can’t believe it’s almost time for me to leave.” It was her way of bringing up a subject they both had been avoiding. Where did they go from here? What was the next course of action?

“Let’s not think about that part either,” he said.

Not the answer she was looking for. She was trying not to show her worry. She didn’t want to push, but . . . what did she want him to say?
Don’t leave? Stay forever? Take me with you? I’ll fly out to meet you at your next gig
. She had to push all of this out of her mind or she might start bawling. If she did she
knew
what he would say . . .
When can you leave? Need help packing? Here, let me get the door for you
. All she could do was force a smile up at him.

He’d seen something in her eyes, but it was a scary something. He didn’t want to think about what that was, so he did the only other thing he could think to do. He bent toward her and kissed her. As soon as he did the heat between them flared. She wrapped both arms around his neck and pulled him closer until his chest rested against hers. The angle of their lips changed and the kiss deepened. His hand splayed over her ribs and she shifted so that she was lying on her side facing him. His hand moved across her back as he wrapped his arm more fully around her, pulling her tighter against him. Their legs tangled and they lost track of time as they became more lost in each other. After a while Meg’s senses returned and she pulled away, breathing heavily.

“I’m sorry,” she gasped. “We have to stop.”

Trace rubbed his eyes and pulled his hand down his face. “I know. I’m sorry. I got carried away.”

Meg stood up and Trace swung his feet to the floor as he sat up. She stepped away from him as if she was afraid to stand too close to him . . . and she was. It would be so easy to give in to her feelings for him. “Please forgive me,” she said shakily. “I don’t mean to send you mixed messages. Really . . . I . . .”

“Meg, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it.” His voice sounded a little rough, but he didn’t look angry or anything. Well . . . maybe he looked a little disappointed.

“It’s not that I don’t want you . . . you know . . . that way . . . but . . .” she stammered.

He forced a chuckle, “Not helping . . . Please, Meg. Let’s change the subject. Wow! Will you look at the time!
”

She snickered and looked over at the clock over the stove. “Oh! It’s almost one o’clock.” She looked back at him as he stood up. “I really should be going. Mom and Dad want us to go to the early service at Bayside Christian and then have brunch before they have to get to the airport tomorrow. You’re invited, by the way.”

“I’m meeting my folks early for breakfast. Their plane leaves at ten thirty. I won’t be able to meet you at church. Sorry.”

“That’s okay.” She started looking around for her huge handbag.

“That was a stroke of genius, though.”

She glanced over at him puzzled. “What do you mean?”

“Mentioning church and our parents was better than dousing me with a bucket of ice water. Nicely played,” he laughed.

“That’s not what I was doing, but I’m glad it worked for you.” She continued the hunt for her handbag and remembered she had left it in his guest room. As she came back into the living room he was standing at the door with his keys in his hand.

“Come on. I’m going to follow you to Tobi’s to make sure you make it home okay.”

“I’m sure I’ll be fine. It’s really late. There’s no reason for us both to go out.”

“I won’t sleep if I’m not sure you made it home safe.”

“I can call when I get there—let you know I made it home safe and sound.”

Trace shook his head in exasperation. “Don’t argue, Meg. I’m coming with you.”

“Alright! Alright!” Meg gave in and went out the door ahead of him. She glanced back over her shoulder as she walked across the front yard and called, “Thanks, Trace!”

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

It was still before dawn and Trace was staring at the ceiling. He’d followed Meg home several hours earlier and, from the time he pulled out of the driveway behind her, he’d been too much in his head. What was he doing? He’d kissed her so that he wouldn’t have to talk to her about where they were going from here. But that had only made it worse. Why did he have to fall in love with someone like her? And he admitted it . . . if only to himself. He did love her. Why couldn’t she be a bank teller at his local bank? Just a regular, settled girl. Someone with roots that he could just graft his own life into? But she wouldn’t be Meg then, would she?

He tried to imagine what their lives would be like a couple of years down the road. He might be thinking of leaving the active SEAL teams.
Maybe moving into training SEAL candidates to continue on the tradition, even if he couldn’t be out on the battlefield with them. Regardless, he could see himself staying settled in the San Diego area. He liked it here. The friends he had here were his family. He couldn’t image moving back to the Midwest.

Where would Meg be, though? She’d still be flitting around the globe, spreading beauty and art wherever she went. She’d call to let him know where her next destination was and he’d have to tell her he couldn’t meet her there because of his own obligations. He’d ask her—yet again—when she’d be coming back to spend time with him. Before too long he knew she would feel like he was pressuring her to drop her career to be with him. And he knew too, that after a while that might be just what he was doing. He wouldn’t want to, and at first, he’d make a point not to—but it would come. He couldn’t imagine their souls being connected so strongly without him having her with him. He didn’t think he could do it.

They still had a week to be together. But was that a good thing? Maybe not. They could spend as much time as possible together, but it would be strained and awkward, neither of them knowing what to say and trying not to say anything, really. Neither of them would want to be the one to say goodbye . . . or that it wouldn’t work. Even if they both felt that way.

In the end, Trace felt this would never work. It would damage them both more the longer they drew this thing out. It would break his heart into even more pieces if they parted after a year or two with hard feelings between them. As the sky started to lighten he made the decision. He would have to be the strong one . . . the one brave enough to break it off now before anyone was hurt even more. It was going to hurt badly enough as it was. By the end of the week it may be unbearable. Now he had to decide how to do it . . . how to break it off.