The Marine's Secret Daughter. Carrie Nichols

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ lifted the bag higher, the bottles clinking and the paper bag crackling. “I haven’t touched a drop. Check the bottles if you don’t believe me.”

      “I believe you.” She stepped out of his way. “Expecting company?”

      “Something like that.”

      He set the bag on the porch steps and hustled back to the truck.

      The dots dancing around the edges of her vision had increased in both size and speed, but she tried to pull herself into the pickup. Riley seized her around the waist and easily lifted her into the seat. “Thanks.”

      After securing her seat belt, she sat hunched forward and closed her eyes.

      When he climbed behind the wheel, she pried her eyes open and eased back against the seat. “You remember...hospital?”

      “Of course.”

      Meg tried to ignore his hand draped over the steering wheel. Not a good time for taking trips down memory lane...but those hands...

      She made a strangled choking sound and turned away.

      He slammed the brakes on. “Should I call an ambulance?”

      “No.” She motioned with her hand. “Go.”

      He peered at her for a moment longer before easing his foot off the brake. “Quit scaring me like that.”

      “Sorry.” But it was his fault for looking so damn sexy. So not fair that his worn camo pants looked hot and her worn jeans looked...well, old and tattered. She wasn’t wearing any makeup and Liam’s old sweatshirt swallowed her whole. Yep, Meg McBride was a real sexpot. What was she doing? She needed to remember her first priority was Fiona. Riley’s parting words rang in her ears. I’m not coming back again, Meggie. The marines are my life now. But she’d been naive enough to think she could change his mind with sex. Yeah, that worked out well. But she was in a good place in her life now and wouldn’t confuse lust with love. Not that there was anything wrong with no-strings-attached sex. She might even try it...someday.

      “...and I was surprised.”

      Oh, God. He’d been talking and she hadn’t heard a word. “Sorry?”

      He passed a slow-moving car. “I didn’t think your family used the cottage anymore.”

      Was he here because he thought she wouldn’t be?

      “I—”

      “Sorry.” He glanced at her. “I didn’t mean to make you keep talking. Save your breath. We can catch up later.”

      Fiona had two more weeks of vacation with Grampa Mac and Doris. Most lake rentals lasted a week. Riley would be gone before Fiona came home. Meg curled her fingers into her palms. She should be thinking of ways to tell Riley the truth, not celebrating the timing of his visit. If he’d come three weeks ago or two weeks from now, there would be no escaping the truth; it would be literally staring him in the face. But now? With a bag of whiskey bottles waiting on his porch? She could last a couple of weeks. Riley had shattered her heart... What would he do to Fiona’s tender one?

      “Meg? You still with me?”

      She opened her mouth but began coughing.

      “I noticed the musty smell. Did mold bring on your attack?” He turned onto the road leading to the hospital.

      She reached out to rest her hand on the dashboard. “Yeah...spring rain and snowmelt caused some spring flooding.”

      “What about your place?” He gave her a quick glance. “Do you have mold, too?”

      She nodded and he continued, “I’ll take a look later and see if I can’t get it cleaned up.”

      “No!” He gave her a wounded look and she softened her tone. “Don’t waste...your week.”

      He slowed the truck as they approached the hospital. “No problem. I’ll be here for the next thirty days.”

      What? Thirty days? Meg shook her head. Riley might not know—yet—what she’d done, but karma had obviously memorized it line, verse and chapter and was gleefully punishing her. First, Riley showed up looking like sex on a stick while she looked like something he’d step in with his size thirteen boots. And he was staying an entire month. Last night, after she’d talked to Fiona on the phone, Meg had cried because another fourteen days without her baby seemed like an eternity. Now, a week wasn’t enough time to get ready for the impending storm.

      * * *

      Riley took the first empty parking spot. Her color had been pale before but it had suddenly gotten much worse. He threw the truck into Park while the wheels were still rolling and winced when the transmission groaned.

      Leaping down, he sprinted to the passenger door and pulled Meg to his side. Keeping one hand under her elbow, he hustled her through a pair of glass doors that whooshed open to a small waiting area with a nurse seated at a desk.

      She greeted them with a smile, but her sharp, assessing gaze stayed on Meg. “What brings you here today?”

      “Asthma. I—” A fit of coughing cut Meg off.

      Riley slipped an arm across Meg’s hunched shoulders, easing her closer. “She’s having an asthma attack and her inhaler was empty. Ma’am, she needs to see someone. Right away.”

      After they’d taken seats in front of her desk, the woman tapped her finger on a small black pad that looked like a calculator. “Can you type your Social Security number into this for me?”

      After Meg typed in her number, the nurse slipped a blood pulse oximeter on her finger.

      “When did the wheezing start?” the nurse asked and verified Meg’s date of birth and social.

      “About...thirty minutes ago.” Meg leaned forward in the seat.

      “And what were you doing?”

      “Laundry.”

      Riley drew his chair closer and secured an arm around Meg as if she’d slip away from him if he let go. He listened impatiently to every inane question and Meg’s breathless replies, the incessant tapping on the keypad. Geez, couldn’t they just give her an inhaler or something? What was taking so long?

      The nurse checked the oximeter and clucked her tongue. “Ninety-one. We’ll get you back there right away.”

      While the nurse put a hospital bracelet around Meg’s wrist, Riley glanced over at the crowded waiting room. Texting and watching TV, none of them looked as though they wanted to shout and tear the place apart until their loved one was treated. Not that Meg was...

      He closed his eyes and rubbed his forefinger across the bridge of his nose, searching for calm. He’d been fighting nausea since finding her at the bottom of those stairs. Sheer force of will had kept him moving up to this moment. Sweat trickled down his sides. Meg had asked him if he’d been expecting company when he’d picked up his bag of Jack Daniel’s bottles. What he hadn’t told her was that most nights the СКАЧАТЬ