Tempting Meredith (27 page)

“You might change your mind when you meet her.”

His expression was pensive. “Anything’s possible, but I can’t see taking her away from the only parents she’s ever known. I can’t see hurting her, confusing her like that.”

It was the right answer, and she breathed a sigh of relief. “Okay. I’ll tell them. See what they say. They’ll probably want to think about it.”

“I imagine so. I won’t press. I’d like to know, but I won’t push it.”

She kissed the corner of his mouth. “Do you want to be her dad?” As much as she wanted it, it could be difficult for him. Knowing he had a child whose life he wasn’t sharing day-to-day. She was intimately familiar with that pain, and she wouldn’t wish it on anyone, especially someone she loved as much as Blaine.

“Yeah, I kinda do. Even though I wouldn’t get all the benefits. I think it’d be nice knowing that a part of me was in your daughter.” He paused. “Would you be okay with that?”

“Oh, Blaine, I’d love it. I’m trying so hard not to get my hopes up.” There was only one thing left to discuss. Or one person. “How are you and Charlie?”

“Never better.”

He meant it. She could feel his conviction in her bones, and that last worry evaporated. “Would you like to see a picture?”

“You’ve got one?” he asked, surprised.

“Larry took one of the two of us with my phone before I left.” She dug it out of her purse, pulled up the photo of her kneeling beside Cassandra and passed the phone to Blaine.

“She’s the spitting image of you.”

Meredith spent the rest of the evening answering Blaine’s questions about Cassandra. At first it was odd and her responses were disjointed. But after a while, it felt right sharing what she knew, as if she was finally free to talk about the child she’d given birth to.

* * *

Charlie knocked lightly on the door and glanced up and down the hall as he waited. He hoped Meredith wasn’t pissed when she saw him. But he had to see for himself how she was doing. And
he
accused
her
of being a control freak.

Something bumped and scraped on the other side, and he held his breath. The door opened. Blaine stood there, bare-chested, his navy sleep pants low on his hips, his feet bare.

“How is she?” Charlie whispered.

“Good. She’s sleeping. I didn’t tell her you were coming. I wasn’t sure you’d make it.”

“It probably would have been faster if I’d driven.”

After Blaine silently closed the door behind them and locked them in, he wrapped his hand around Charlie’s neck and kissed him. “I’m glad you’re here.”

Despite their intimacies, the gesture surprised him. It was so sweet, so domestic. And yeah, even a little sexy. Too bad he was too tired to do anything about it. “I hope
she
is.”

Blaine smiled. “I’m sure you can think of a way to make her glad.”

“I hate to resort to sex every time.”

Blaine raised his brows. “Does that mean you’re tired of us already?”

Charlie snorted then glanced at the bed to make sure he hadn’t disturbed Meredith. The curtains of the floor-to-ceiling window were open and artificial light from the commercial district illuminated her. Still sleeping. Her chest rising and falling evenly. Her hair glowing like the full moon on a hazy night. Her back was to him, so he couldn’t see her face.

God, he was so fucking glad to finally be here with them. The cramped airplane seats, the long layover, the delayed flight, the pounding in his head—all worth it. He’d tried to get on the same flight as Blaine but hadn’t been able to leave Austin until three hours later, and then he’d gotten stuck at O’Hare because of weather.

He quietly set his duffle bag by the door and started to undress. He stood over her and watched her for a while. One hand lay in front of her face on the pillow in a loose fist. The other was tucked under her face.

He eased in on his side—the one that wasn’t bruised and banged up—behind her. He wanted to spoon, to wrap her up and shield her. If he hadn’t been afraid of waking her, he would have.

She surprised him when she wiggled back until they touched. “I thought you weren’t coming,” she said sleepily.

“It didn’t feel right.” He tucked his arm against her chest and pulled her closer, melding their skin together. “Being separated when you were doing something so important.”

She placed her hand over his and laced their fingers together. “I love you.”

He froze, stunned by the admission. Did she realize what she’d said? His heart swelled, forcing out the words he’d bottled up for so long. “I love you, too.”

“Blaine, too. Love him, too,” she murmured. “Saved me.”

Blaine slid down in front of her and lightly kissed her. “I love you, too.”

Her breathing became soft and even as she drifted back to sleep.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

As soon as Meredith walked through the door the next day, Cassandra looked up at Larry and asked, “Can I show her my room?”

“Sure.”

Cassandra extended her hand to Meredith. It was so small, so soft, so tentative. Meredith followed her through the entry hall with Chris and Larry bringing up the rear. The girl stopped at the foot of the stairs and spoke to her dads. “It’s okay. You can stay here.”

“I’ll fix a snack and bring it up. How does that sound?” Larry asked.

“Cassie, I’ll come with you and help you give Meredith a tour,” Chris said.

“We need to talk alone,” Cassie said firmly—adult words in a child’s voice.

Larry placed his hand on Chris’s arm. “Why don’t you go up to the office and do some work? I’ll call you when I bring up the snacks.”

Chris pressed his lips together, clearly wanting to argue. He finally relented. “Alright.” He followed them up the stairs. When Cassandra led Meredith into her room, Chris said, “I’ll be in my office. It’s just across the hall if you need anything.”

When he left, Cassandra asked, “Do you like purple?”

Her daughter’s room was an homage to the color. Remembering Larry’s mention of Cassandra’s new favorite color from the Mother’s Day letter, Meredith had worn a purple shirt. Now she wondered if they redecorated the room every time their daughter decided on a new favorite. “I do,” Meredith said. “It’s the best of red and blue. And it’s my favorite part of the rainbow.”

“I like rainbows.”

“Me, too.”

Cassandra worried her lower lip as she wandered around her room, touching things, putting off whatever she wanted to talk about. Meredith didn’t rush her, afraid of questions she couldn’t adequately answer. The whys.

“Your dad tells me that your favorite subject is science,” Meredith said.

“And math,” Cassandra added.

“They were my favorites, too. They still are.”

“Why did you give me away? Why didn’t you keep me? What’s
wrong
with me?”

The question stunned her. She thought she’d prepared for it. But nothing she’d read or researched could have prepared her for the actual words, the poignant self-recrimination of a seven-year-old child. Her daughter’s anguish tore her apart. “Oh, sweetie. Nothing’s wrong with you. You’re perfect.” She hesitated then plunged ahead. “But I wasn’t.”

Cassandra shook her head, the movement so small Meredith wouldn’t have seen it if she hadn’t been looking for the slightest hint that the girl accepted her explanation. It was the truth in a generalized form. And it was lame. Cassandra wanted—no, she
needed
—specifics.

“What have your dads told you?” That was the place to start. She didn’t want to contradict them, and maybe they had the magic words.

Cassandra glanced at the door before whispering, “I didn’t ask them. I was afraid it would make them sad.”

Could this child be any more amazing? Meredith was more convinced than ever that she’d made the right decision when she’d chosen Larry and Chris to parent her baby. They’d done an amazing job of raising and loving her daughter.

“Well,” Meredith began, “when I gave birth to you, I was too young to take care of you.” Cassandra stared at the floor. Meredith needed some kind of contact with her daughter as she struggled to explain, so she brushed the girl’s hair back off her face and tucked it behind her ear, knowing that, like hers, it wouldn’t stay there. “I didn’t have a job. I didn’t have a home like this one. I was still going to school.” She put every bit of passion into her next words and her heart twisted at the truth of them. “But I loved you so much. So I searched and searched until I found the very best parents for you.”

Cassandra peeked up at her.

“And finally, I found them.”

“My daddies,” Cassandra whispered.

“Yes.” She’d given Cassandra parents who loved each other, who were committed to each other, who had love to spare. They’d been financially secure, could give her everything she needed and more. Dance lessons, science kits, soccer. Larry was a stay-at-home dad. He took her to school, picked her up, presided over the frigging PTA, baked cookies and cupcakes and decorated for Christmas.

Cassandra seemed to accept Meredith’s explanation. At least, she was considering it, thinking it over. Meredith was certain she’d have more questions later, once she had time to process everything. But for now, Cassandra seemed satisfied. Meredith breathed a little easier, relieved that she hadn’t screwed up that first answer. It would pave the way for more questions, maybe make them easier for Cassandra to ask and Meredith to answer.

They talked about rainbows and school. Meredith told her about her Uncle Landon and her Aunt Nikki. Then she gave her some time alone and went in search of her parents. Chris wasn’t in his office. She found both men in the kitchen.

“I was just about to bring up the snacks,” Larry said as he picked up a tray with fresh fruit and a pitcher of ice water.

“I need to talk to y’all,” she said before her courage faltered.

“Of course.” Larry nodded toward the back porch, visible through the windows beyond the breakfast nook. “That’ll give us some privacy.”

When they’d settled on the cushioned wicker chairs, Meredith said, “One of the men who might be Cassandra’s father is back in my life.”

Both men straightened. Larry gripped Chris’s hand.

“He’s willing to do a paternity test,” she hurried on. “If he is her biological father, he wants you to know that he’s not interested in taking her away from you. He’s happy with y’all as her parents.”

“How can we be certain he’ll stick to that?” Chris said, his jaw tight, every muscle in his body tense. “He could change his mind once he knows for sure.”

“Does he know she has two dads? Does he know we’re gay?” Larry asked.

She hadn’t expected this question, but it was a valid fear. “Yes. It’s not a problem. You could meet him. Talk. Get acquainted. He’s a good man. He only has Cassandra’s best interests at heart. But I should warn you, he’s probably not her father.” She drew in a deep breath before continuing. “If he isn’t, I can probably find her biological father, if you’d like. I could contact him, but when I was pregnant—when I told him—he didn’t want anything to do with me or the baby.”

“Why are you doing this now? Why after all these years?” Chris asked.

He wasn’t just referring to her revelation about Blaine and Dylan. Why, after years of them begging, had she finally given in and deigned to visit them? “I’ve been stupid. And a little afraid, too, I think. But mostly stupid. I thought she’d be better off without me.”

Larry spoke gently. “We know you love her. You wouldn’t have supplied breast milk for a whole year for a baby you didn’t love. I know it was painful for you—being so close to her, but not seeing her, those daily reminders. It was almost as if you were punishing yourself.”

“I wanted her to have the very best life,” Meredith whispered. “I wanted her to have the best of everything.” Her voice grew stronger. “I was naïve and young and confused.”

She suddenly wondered what her life would have been like if she’d told Blaine, if she’d called him like he’d asked her to do. She suspected he would have tried to make things right. Could they have made a happy family?

“We’ll think about it,” Chris said.

“He’s here,” she blurted. She hadn’t planned on telling them, but she couldn’t take it back. “I mean in Boston. With me.”

Chris was already shaking his head. “Meeting you is enough for now. She already has a lot to process. And we don’t even know if this man is her father. There’s no reason for her to meet him if he isn’t.”

Actually, there was a reason. If Blaine was going to be a part of Meredith’s life, an important part of that life would be Cassandra. She’d want him to know her daughter. Charlie, too. But she wouldn’t go into that now. “No, I didn’t mean that Cassandra should meet him today. But if you and Larry want to come to the hotel and talk to him...” They were shell-shocked. It was too much, too soon. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything. Of course, you’re right. It can wait. He lives near Austin. Once y’all get settled in Houston, if you want to contact him, let me know.”

Larry nodded. “That would be better.”

She stood. “Okay, well, I’ll say goodbye to Cassandra.”

Larry and Chris jumped up.

“You’ll come for her birthday?” Larry asked.

“If the invitation is still open. Think about it.”

“Of course we want you,” Larry said.

“More importantly, Cassandra wants you,” Chris added. “And Meredith, you can’t disappoint her. If you don’t show—” he waved his hand in the air, “—after this, it will devastate her.”

Meredith didn’t have any intention of disappointing her daughter. Not again.

* * *

Meredith was blessedly numb for the next week. She went to work every day on autopilot. She had dinner with her sister and Jake and told them the details of her meeting with Cassandra. Nikki was so happy she cried. Jake even looked teary-eyed. Next, she told her brother. He was shocked but supportive and asked what he could do to help her. Her parents? As expected, they weren’t terribly interested. When she called to tell them about their granddaughter, they were packing for an Alaskan cruise. They said they’d call after their vacation.

On the drive to the ranch Friday evening, Meredith began to thaw. Neither Charlie nor Blaine met her when she parked in front of the lodge. They were no doubt playing catch-up from their impromptu trip to Boston. She hoped Charlie wasn’t overdoing it. The dogs didn’t greet her either. They were probably with the twins. She grabbed her suitcase from the trunk and headed to her room. Not that she’d spend much time there.

Before she’d unpacked, there was a knock on her door. They hadn’t made her wait long.

She smiled and called out from the end of the bed, “Come in.” Her smile faltered when Lindsey walked in, but she recovered and said cheerfully, “Hi, Lindsey.”

“Hi. Good trip?”

“Uneventful. The best kind,” Meredith said.

Lindsey stepped inside the room and closed the door behind her. “I meant the trip to Boston.”

Meredith froze with her toiletry bag in hand. How much did Blaine’s sister know? “Yeah, it was a good trip.”

“Maybe you can tell me why Blaine felt the need to go with you.”

Play middleman for the siblings?
Right.
“No, I can’t.”

“In case you aren’t aware, he’s running for sheriff. He doesn’t need some kind of sexual scandal derailing his campaign.”

Was she fishing, or had Blaine said something to her? The attack angered her until she remembered what Charlie had said about anger, that it usually stemmed from fear. There was a whole lot of fear in the room. Lindsey was naturally worried about her brother. And Meredith was worried that Lindsey was right. If word of their ménage got out, his political career would be over. Feigning a calmness she didn’t feel, she placed the toiletry bag back in her suitcase. “Have you spoken to Blaine about your concerns?”

“Of course.”

“I don’t know what to say. There’s nothing more that I can add. I can’t speak for your brother.”

Lindsey’s mouth tightened, and when she spoke her tone was vitriolic. “You can tell me why you feel the need to fuck two men. Isn’t one enough?”

Meredith took a deep breath, fighting her anger, fighting the urge to defend herself. Truth was, she didn’t have a defense. She
was
fucking Charlie and Blaine. Not that it was
just
sex. Not anymore. Maybe it’d never been solely about the sex. Something had drawn her to them. Blaine in college and Charlie a few months ago. And while she’d been looking forward to more of it this weekend, what she’d really anticipated during the drive to the ranch was simply talking with them. About their week, their lives, their families, their dreams, even the last Rangers game. “I appreciate your concern for your brother. I’m just as protective of mine.” Was that what Lindsey needed—simple assurance that Meredith cared for Blaine, that he wasn’t just a convenient fuck? “I only want the best for Blaine.”

“Oh, and is your brother running for public office?”

Okay, maybe it was more than concern for her brother’s emotional happiness. Although having Blaine’s name dragged through the political pigsty could adversely affect that happiness. Still, she needed to talk to him before getting into this with Lindsey. The three of them hadn’t discussed how to publicly handle their unusual relationship. And she sensed that Lindsey was guessing. Of course, it wasn’t an outrageous conclusion, considering Blaine and Charlie had followed her to Boston.

“Look, Lindsey, you need to talk to Blaine, not—”

Another knock on the door interrupted her. Maybe there
was
a God.

“Come in,” she called, hoping it was Charlie. Blaine’s appearance probably wouldn’t help. She discounted the brief possibility of God’s existence when the door opened to Charlie
and
Blaine.

Blaine’s warm smile froze when he saw Lindsey. “Hey, Linds. Grant’s looking for you.”

Lindsey crossed her arms over her chest and frowned as she glanced back and forth from Meredith to Blaine.

“Linds,” Blaine said, a warning in his voice.

“Yeah, okay,” the woman said, her tone angry, sulky.

She didn’t close the door behind her, so Blaine shut the three of them inside Meredith’s room, alone. “Sorry about that.”

“She’s worried about you. She’s right. If this gets out, your campaign is over.”

His beautiful mouth, which was always smiling, tightened into a straight line. Not a hint of that natural curve she loved. “Screw the campaign.”

He was letting emotion overrule logic. “You don’t mean that.”

“Yeah, I do.”

“Hang on,” Charlie said. “Everyone needs to calm down.”

Meredith closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she opened them, both men were watching her. “I didn’t say anything. I didn’t know
what
to say. I don’t know
what
she knows, what you’ve told her.”

“I haven’t told her a damn thing, but obviously she suspects there’s something going on with you.”