Seeing Red(16)

When they spoke again, they spoke at once.

Seth said, “I imagine they’ll deliver your breakfast to the bungalow.”

Meg said, “So, I guess I’ll see you later?”

Seth grunted in agreement.

Meg nodded, gathered up the beach gear Toby had left behind, and made a brisk escape toward the path.

Blowing out a ragged breath, Seth drew his tepid coffee closer and rotated the cup between his hands.

Now he was pretty certain it’d happened again.

He’d always been that guy women liked to keep in their speed dial—the one women were so sweet to, but only on a friendly level—just in case they needed something from him later. A ride home after a late night at the bar. A rescue if they blew out a tire on the highway. A last-minute date for a wedding reception at which they promptly ditched him as soon as their friends filed in.

The only difference between all those times and this one was that he and Meg had a little certificate proclaiming that they were legally bound…and there were the vows.

Maybe those words hadn’t meant anything to Meg, but when he’d said them, he’d meant them and wished that for-as-long-as-we-both-shall-live bit would come true.

Now, he wasn’t feeling particularly hopeful. From where he stood, he seemed to have been boxed into the friend zone yet again. This time by his own wife.





Chapter 5



When Meg had opened her eyes that morning, disoriented and tangled in the sheets, for a moment she’d panicked. Why was she naked? Had she drank that much? And where was Toby? Toby usually woke her one minute before the sun came up.

Then the cobwebs in her skull cleared, and with one clench of her feminine muscles, the soreness registered, and she remembered every lurid detail.

She’d gone to breakfast wearing her usual practiced stoicism, but on the inside, she felt humiliated. Had she really seduced that man like some brazen hussy who spread her legs for the most convenient warm body nearby? And what must Seth have been thinking?

It was hard to tell. At breakfast, he’d worn his usual friendly expression and seemed cordial almost to a fault.

But, what had she expected? That he’d pick a fight? For what?

She blew out a breath and dropped a sugar cube into her steaming hot coffee. As she stirred the sweetener inside the little china cup, she paced. Sipped, and paced. Sipped, and paced.

“Maybe I should apologize,” she said to her reflection in the cheval mirror she’d paused in front of. “That’s the least I can do. He was so kind to Toby….”

She resumed her pacing and made a few more passes in front of the bed the housekeeper had made up during breakfast. Someone, the concierge, perhaps, had delivered a basket filled with indulgent toiletries and chocolates. Meg had only skimmed the little card attached to the handle, but what she gleaned was that the gift was for the newlyweds and they invited her and Seth to avail themselves of the spa facility at no extra charge.

Wasn’t gonna happen. Meg didn’t like strangers touching her. Seemed ironic, considering last night.

She set the cup into its matching saucer and turned, intending to squeeze into her bathing suit and enjoy a couple of hours in the surf, but paused at a muffled beeping sound.

She turned her ear toward the noise, trying to hone in on the specific location. Kneeling low, she discovered her cell phone stuffed into the pockets of the shorts she’d discarded the night before.

Several missed calls and one all-caps text message. That, she skimmed after rolling her eyes at the sender name.



SAW UR WEDDING PICS ONLINE. HOW MUCH U SELL THEM 4? THAT TOBYS REAL DAD? WOULD EXPLAIN SUM THINGS, HUH?



Why the hell did he care, anyway? The paltry sum he paid in child support was a drop in the bucket compared to his overall income. The jackass had a good lawyer. He’d argued that since Spike’s pay was unpredictable due to erratic royalty income, putting a finite figure on his monthly intake was difficult. Meg’s lawyer hadn’t known how to argue with that, unfortunately, and so she was getting just enough to keep the kid fed and clothed with a bit left over to cover utilities. Her alimony had been somewhat more generous, but she suspected that was because the judge had taken pity on her. Poor Meg.

Early in the marriage, wired funds from her parents kept the lights on and fridge filled. While Spike was out touring and the band was spending more on promotion than they were earning from album sales, the Scotts footed the bills.

And when the band took off, Spike took control of everything. She’d stopped calling her parents for aid, and Spike didn’t want her to work. He wanted her accessible at the drop of a hat so she could tour with him. Really, he’d just wanted a warm, wet hole to roll over into after grinding on stage all night. She’d figured that out right around the time she got pregnant with Toby. And that’s when she’d starting working behind Spike’s back. When he was away, she went into the office and wrote manuals for a local tech company. When he was home, she worked in the wee hours of the morning on her laptop on the floor in Toby’s nursery.