She swallowed the last bite of egg. “Why did you really come to Pine Creek?”
She turned around and saw that he didn’t answer her because he was sound asleep. His empty plate was balanced on his belly, his arms had fallen to the side, and he was softly snoring.
Megan walked over to the couch, set the plate on the coffee table, then unlaced and took off his boots. Careful not to bang his injured knee, she slid his legs around until he was sprawled lengthwise on the couch, propped a pillow under his head and another one under his knee, then grabbed the blanket off the back and covered him up. She tucked the blanket under his chin, her fingers brushing the rough stubble on his cheek, and without stopping to think, leaned down and kissed his forehead. Her lips somehow decided to linger on his warm skin, and he snuggled deeper into the pillow with a sigh.
She jerked upright, then stalked back to the kitchen. Damn the man! She didn’t care what wonderful memories his being here evoked, she was not letting him off the hook that easy. He wanted to be part of her life, he was going to have to earn her love all over again!
Waking up to whispered conversations was fast becoming a bad habit—though an enlightening one. This time Jack didn’t recognize the male who was speaking. He carefully slit open his eyes and the soft glow of interior lights told him he’d slept the day away. He frowned at the empty house. He was still on Megan’s couch, though he was sprawled lengthwise now; his boots were off, there was a pillow under his swollen knee, and he was snuggled toe to chin under a soft blanket.
The conversation was coming from outside. He saw two people standing under the porch light, but the sheer curtain covering the door window made it impossible to identify the man. He was another Sasquatch though, towering over Megan as she rested a delicate hand on his arms folded across his chest.
Something about their postures tickled a memory at the back of Jack’s mind. Where had he seen Megan looking up at a man just like that?
“Matt told me Jack Stone is the father of your child,” the guy said, his voice menacing as it came through the slightly open door. “And that Wayne Ferris was an alias Stone was using in Canada, when he seduced ye.”
Jack snorted. He hadn’t seduced anyone; it had been the other way around.
“And yet ye have him sleeping on your couch, after ye told me ye hoped the bastard rotted in hell,” the Sasquatch finished in a heavily accented growl.
Jack winced. Megan had actually said that?
“And just who told Matt about Wayne?” Megan stepped away from the man. “I bet Winter told him, and of course your brother told you. Which means my sister can keep your secret for months, but she blabs mine the first chance she gets.”
“Husbands and wives don’t keep secrets from each other. You’ll do well to remember that, lass, when ye find yourself married.”
Jack smiled. No wonder Megan preferred nerds; the men around here were either issuing orders or lecturing her. Wayne Ferris must have seemed like a breath of fresh air. She had both hands on her hips now, and was looking up at the giant as if she could slice him to shreds with her glare.
“I’m not ever getting married,” she said, the growl in her own voice loud and clear. “I don’t need a man messing up my life or that of my baby’s. All we need is each other.”
“That’s telling him, sweetheart.” Jack closed his eyes and snuggled back under the blanket with a smile. If Megan didn’t think she wanted to get married, that was okay with him—for now. He would eventually wear her down.
“As for the favor you want,” she continued, “I still say Elizabeth is your best bet, but if you insist on me, then I’ll do it. The first time you get all macho, though, it’s over.”
Jack opened his eyes to see the man pull Megan against his chest in a way that was anything but familial. What in hell had she just promised, that the Sasquatch felt compelled to thank her with a hug? And what was his relation to Megan? A brother-in-law? He was Winter’s husband’s brother, if Jack had heard right.
And that made Megan fair game in anyone’s book.
He was the man on TarStone Mountain! That’s where Jack had seen him before. He’d love to have the poaching bastard in the crosshairs of his rifle scope again and send him scurrying behind a rock. A rival for Megan’s affection was the last thing he needed right now.
Maybe his knee wouldn’t be better in the morning. Maybe he’d be so helpless for the next several days, Megan wouldn’t have the heart to send him home.
He just had to figure out how to get rid of Camry.
As if conjuring the devil herself, Jack heard a car speed into the driveway and skid to a stop. A door slammed, and a feminine voice called out, “Kenzie! You’ve come for a visit. How nice.”
So the hugging poacher was Kenzie Gregor. Jack tossed off his blanket, sat up, and gingerly lowered his feet to the floor. Now that he knew whom he was up against, all he had to do was figure out what the bastard was up to.
“Shhh,” Megan hissed, lifting her finger to her lips as she moved to block the door. “Wayne’s sleeping.”
Jack rubbed his face with a heavy sigh. Was she ever going to call him Jack, or was he going to have to change his name?
“Don’t tell me he’s still here,” Camry said, not even trying to lower her voice. “Kenzie, did you bring your sword?”
Jack froze in the act of standing up. Sword?
Gregor gave a belly laugh. “Sorry, I left it at home.” He looked down at Megan, and Jack saw the bastard smile. “Should I run up the mountain and fetch it, lass, and rid ye of your troublesome boyfriend once and for all?”
“He’s not my boyfriend,” Megan snapped. “And he’s only on the couch because I couldn’t carry him home.”
Time to end this farce, he supposed. “I’m awake,” Jack called out. “And I don’t know which hurts more, my knee or my wounded feelings.”
Megan swung open the door and stepped inside but was quickly herded out of the way by Camry. “Liars don’t have feelings,” Camry said, walking directly up to the coffee table, presumably so Jack could better see her scowl. “Game’s up, lover boy. Kenzie’s going to help you home.”
Jack formed a T with his hands. “Truce. I’ve had less than five hours sleep in the last two days, and every damn one of my muscles ache. And since you’re not the sort of woman who kicks a man when he’s down, could we please stop the salvos until I’m back on my feet?”
“That’s the sign for time-out, not truce,” Camry said, though her face did redden. “You wave a white flag for a truce.” She set her hands on her hips, not unlike the way Megan often did. “And what makes you think I wouldn’t kick a man when he’s down?”
Jack gave her his sincerest smile. “Because you’re the sister who’s most like Megan, she told me, even more than her twin, Chelsea.”
Camry opened her mouth but closed it again without uttering a word. She simply turned and walked away.
“Kenzie?” Megan said, peering out the still open door. She turned to Camry. “Where’d he go?”
“Who knows,” Camry said with a negligent wave. “Likely back to his hidey-hole in the forest. Have you ever noticed how uncomfortable he gets indoors?”
Jack perked up. Kenzie Gregor was a forest hermit?
How interesting.
Unless he was a warrior like most of the other men around here, and a shell-shocked veteran who couldn’t handle civilized society anymore. Jack had dealt with a few such lost souls growing up in Medicine Lake. Did Gregor have hopes that Megan would help him come in from the cold?
Not on my watch, she won’t. Jack leaned back on the couch with a moan and rubbed his knee.
“Oh, no, you don’t,” Camry said, pointing at the door Megan was closing. “You are hobbling home right now.”