My Plan B (Middlemarch Shifters Book 11) Page 7

  “You’re right. So we sit here and eat our meals, then we go our separate ways.”

  “And meet at my cottage?” she asked.

  “We could do that, if you’re sure.”

  She started to speak, but he squeezed her hand. “Here comes Emily with our drinks. How did you get into your job?”

  She blinked at him, and mourned the loss of contact when he removed his hand. She hadn’t even heard Emily’s arrival, which told her he’d seduced with his baby blues, his crooked grin and his stunning silver hair. Then, there was his easygoing nature and his obvious love for his son. Emily handed her a glass of white wine and Jacey his beer before offering them a menu bearing the evening dishes.

  “I’ll be back in a few minutes,” Emily said and bustled away.

  “If you looked me up on the internet, then you know all that. Tell me about you. I got the impression you haven’t been in Middlemarch for long. Why did you move?”

  “Henry needed me,” Jacey said.

  Surprise heralded his reply and her curiosity grew. “He’s an adult.” Few men would change their lives and move because their child—an adult child—needed them.

  “He’s still my son and when his m-girlfriend died the local cops blamed him. He didn’t do it, but they refused to listen. Besides, the business in Perth wasn’t a challenge any longer. Henry and Gerard have been asking me to come and help them with their new security firm. They seem to have plenty of work coming in, so I said I’d come back to New Zealand and Middlemarch for a trial period.”

  Her reporter instincts flared to life. Maybe she, too, should hit the internet in pursuit of knowledge. Wrongful imprisonment and murder bore the hallmarks of an interesting story.

  “Have you ever been married? Had a serious relationship?”

  Her eyes widened at the abrupt change of topic. “Whoa, you don’t ease into these things, do you?”

  “I want to know the answer, if we’re going to spend time together.”

  “Relationships are difficult with my job. During the rugby season, I travel a lot. In the off-season, I travel just as often to film segments for different shows.” At least she used to be away from home on a regular basis. Who knew what would happen once she reported in with her boss again. “Most men prefer their women in the same place as them. It makes dating easier. Sex too.”

  His gaze narrowed. “You enjoy sex?”

  “Yes.” She refused to let him rattle her, yet his bluntness was kind of inspiring. Endearing even, as if he didn’t go for pretense and games.

  “So do I,” he murmured. “Do you just do television work?”

  Another change of subject. She groped to keep up because her mind had become stuck on sex. Naked bodies writhing together, urgency humming between them. The cool night air. The beautiful pearly shine of the moon. The mournful howl… She blinked. Once. Twice.

  “Megan?” His soft voice pulled her back. “Woolgathering? That’s not very flattering.”

  “I…” She shook her head to clear her sluggish thoughts. That was the first time she’d drifted into her fictional world while in the presence of a sexy man. Heck, in the presence of any man. “Sorry, the sex discussion threw me. I’m not used to forthright speaking. The last man I dated—he was very economical with the truth. He forgot to tell me about the other two women he was dating at the same time as me. He didn’t tell the other two women either, so it was a rude shock when we all turned up on the same night.”

  Jacey barked out a laugh. “Sorry. I know it’s not funny, but the picture in my mind had all the hallmarks of a comedy.”

  Megan gave a rueful smile. “It’s funny now. It wasn’t at the time. One woman had a short fuse and picked up someone’s pasta dinner. She fired it at the man’s head, missed and splattered spaghetti all over the second woman. It turned out she had a temper too. In seconds it was all on. A food fight that made headlines. My workmates still crack jokes at my expense, and that was over two years ago.”

  His lips twitched. “Did you join in?”

  “No, I had a little self-preservation. I attempted to make a discreet exit, but these days everyone has a cell phone. Most of the videos went viral. Lucky, there were a few other celebrities present, some of whom threw their food.”

  “I might have come across the video during my internet search. You behaved with dignity, and public opinion was behind you.”

  “Try telling my conservative bosses. Although ratings rose after the incident.” She lifted her hands to emphasize the word incident with air-speech marks.

  Jacey chuckled. “Emily is on her way. Have you decided what you’d like to eat for dinner?”

  Megan picked up her menu, gave it a quick scan since now that Jacey mentioned it, she could pick out Emily’s approach.

  “Have you decided?” Emily asked as she popped around the temporary screen comprising flowering plants on a decorative bookshelf.

  “That’s easy,” Megan said. “Roast beef.”

  “I cook it on the rare side, although I could manage medium rare for you.”

  “No, rare is how I like my meat.” And everyone looked at her strangely whenever she ordered a rare steak instead of a healthy salad or the latest trendy food item.

  “I’ll take the same, thanks, Emily,” Jacey said.

  Emily turned to leave, then stopped, her brow furrowed. “I should tell you that several reporters have turned up, searching for you, Megan. They said it’s about a new sports show and you missing out on a job.” She pulled a face. “Sorry for my bluntness, but I thought you’d prefer to have the facts.”

  Megan sighed, a part of her knowing that this would happen when management made their announcement about the front people for their new show. Although, she didn’t know how the reporters had discovered her presence in Middlemarch. Someone at the main network office must’ve blabbed, which meant her relaxing weekend would be no longer. She sighed again and forced a smile. “It’s all right. Occupational hazard.” She didn’t intend to explain her disappointment or anger at the way the network bosses were pushing her aside because of her age.

  “Don’t worry. We’ll sneak you out the back when you’re ready to leave,” Emily said.

  Megan nodded, a searing anger filling her, aimed at Jeremy and the network bosses. If she kicked up a stink and let her disappointment show to reporters and the public, it would only up interest in the new show. The reporters would speak of a war between her and the girl who’d snatched her job. Been there, and she didn’t care to repeat the experience. No matter what she said, she’d appear bitter. Best to keep to the old favorite, no comment.

  The roast beef, when it arrived, melted in her mouth. Accompanied by crisp roast potatoes, pumpkin and kumara, her favorite sweet potato, green beans and gravy, the meal reminded her of dinners at her grandparents’ farm north of Auckland during her childhood.

  “Do the reporters create a nuisance for you?”

  “Sometimes,” Megan said. “It’s part of the job. I like meeting fellow sports enthusiasts, but dealing with the press is always a balancing act. It’s hard because I’m also a reporter working on stories, except my stories aren’t print. Anyone who works in the public arena is open season.”

  A shudder tore through her at the thought. Thank goodness she’d kept her penname of Carrie English secret. Now that would be a disaster. She could imagine the controversy if that little secret got out. The love scenes read aloud out of context, the pointed stares and sniggers from her workmates. Even her younger sister would look askance. Megan knew this, had experienced this prejudice against romance from her own sister because Tessa had picked up one of her Carrie English paranormal romances and mocked the cover. Mocked it! She’d flicked through the pages and read out a love scene, one Megan had been proud of and finished by demanding why Megan read such rubbish.

  The memory still burned. Her sister’s loss. That cover…if she ever came across a man with abs like that she’d lick them, not mock them. And if she ever found a lover who
took such care to arouse her, she’d grab him with both hands and never let him go. The men she met had faulty parts. Oh, their favorite, requisite male parts worked fine. It was the parts that came under other that failed to fire Megan’s imagination.

  “Hey!”

  Megan jumped as a hand touched hers. She glanced up, her gaze connecting with concerned blue eyes.

  “It will be fine. I’m experienced in security work, as are Henry and Gerard. Any or all of us will make sure you’re not bothered for the rest of the weekend.”

  Megan laughed, at herself more than at his words. “This is a big juicy story, Jacey. It will be better if I speak with them and hopefully, they’ll go away.”

  “Whatever you decide is best. What I’m saying is we’ll help you control the situation.”

  He meant it. This man who hardly knew her. Something inside her cracked a little, releasing some of her frustration and anger. She blew out a breath and pushed away her empty plate.

  “A few days ago, my boss called me into his office to tell me that the job they’d promised me has been given to another woman.”

  Jacey’s brow furrowed. “Why?”

  “My age. They decided I was too old for the job, that my competence and experience and good work record to date didn’t matter a scrap.”

  Jacey stared, the furrow deepening on his forehead. “They have rocks for brains.” A low growl accompanied the words. “Anyone seeing you in action this weekend would say the same.”

  A surge of warmth dampened her frustration. “Thanks.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  A harsh sigh gusted from her—definitely vexation in that one. “I don’t know. I’ve taken a week of leave and hope to have a brainwave as to what I should do next. I have a couple of options and still have my job at the moment. They’re shunting me sideways, so I’m not sure what my job will entail going forward. I’ve started a list of pros and cons to work out what I want, but it’s scary trying to imagine a future without sport. Sport has been such a big part of my life—ever since I played rugby for the New Zealand Women’s Sevens team. Actually before that, since I was a kid.”

  “Your passion for the game shows,” Jacey said. “I enjoyed watching you in action today. Thanks to you, the tournament is very successful.”

  “Your local team is good. I’m picking them to win the Kenneth Nesbitt cup,” she said, glowing inside with his compliments. “I’ll admit I was miffed to be given this assignment because I’d never heard of Middlemarch, but everyone has made me welcome, and I’ve enjoyed the local revelry. There is a real spirit of friendship and community in this town.”

  “It’s part of the reason I decided to stay,” Jacey said. “I’ve only lived here for a short time, but the residents look out for each other. I think I would have stayed because of Henry and his friend, Gerard, anyway, but the community spirit is a plus.”

  Emily appeared around the corner of the screen. “Ah good. I can see the roast beef went down well.”

  “Are the reporters still there?” Megan asked.

  Emily scowled. “I had to get Saber to man the door, so only customers can get inside. They have the manners of a three-year-old. No, scratch that. Most three-year-olds of my acquaintance have better manners.”

  A grin surfaced in Megan, surprising her by its appearance. She’d liked Emily Mitchell from their first meeting. The men and women on the organizing committee had made her welcome too, although the two elderly women on the committee were scary. She kept that opinion to herself. “They’re a tenacious lot. They’ll stay until I leave.”

  “We’ll hustle you out the back.”

  Megan straightened in her chair. “No, I’ll go out the front and give a short statement. If I don’t, they’ll haunt me tomorrow and perhaps spoil things for the final day of the tournament.”

  Emily shot her a considering glance then gave a brisk nod. “If that’s what you want to do. Jacey and Saber will act as your security and keep things orderly. She grinned. “I don’t think we’ve ever had a press conference in Middlemarch.” She picked up the plates. “I’ll give you a break before dessert, but we have a lemon tart or a molten chocolate cake.”

  “Yum,” Megan said. “My favorites. You expect me to choose?”

  Jacey gave a husky laugh. “We’ll have one of each, Emily, so we can share.”

  “Done deal,” Emily said and departed with the empty plates.

  Megan focused on Jacey, her heart beating faster than normal. There was so much to like about this man. One, he was attractive. Two, he had manners and didn’t monopolize the conversation. Three, he was protective without being creepy. Four, he didn’t comment about her love of food and in particular, bloody meat. Five, his grin was a panty-wetting one.

  Words bubbled from her and she blurted, “I should’ve kissed you instead of your son.”

  Chapter Six

  “Ready?” Jacey asked. I should have kissed you instead of your son. The words played on a loop like a favorite song, and his wolf wanted to sing in concert.

  Megan nodded, and Saber opened the front door of Storm in a Teacup.

  The reporters talked at once, firing questions at Megan as she followed Saber from the café. The clamor rose above the tinkle of the doorbell, swelling yet again as Jacey placed himself on one side of her and Saber on the other.

  A growl rumbled from him as he felt Megan tremble. Saber didn’t have to shoot him the look for him to clamp down on his wolf. More than ever, he felt he and Megan had a future together. He didn’t want to utter the M word since Megan didn’t sense the ties between them, but his wolf was acting mighty possessive.

  “Megan! Megan!” A skinny man with a ponytail and wearing a bright orange T-shirt and black jeans thrust a fluffy microphone in her face.

  Megan ignored the shouts for her attention, lifted her right hand for silence and waited, fully composed.

  Pride surged in Jacey. After the tremors when they exited the café, she’d reached a place of calm and displayed no nerves or outward signs of distaste for this debacle. He wasn’t sure he would manage the same composure because his wolf kept bleeding out with inward growls that were increasingly distracting.

  When the din continued, Jacey stepped forward and spoke in a carrying voice. “Ms. Saxon will have no comment until you cease your rude chatter.”

  Silence fell, and in a comical pause, everyone eyed him with curiosity and calculation. Who are you? Jacey could hear them thinking the question.

  “Thank you,” Megan said. “I presume you are here to cover the Inaugural Kenneth Nesbitt Sevens tournament. I am honored to commentate the games. The rugby has been entertaining, the competing teams playing hard. I think the crowd has enjoyed the spectacle. I know I have.”

  Jacey heard Saber’s quick laugh, quickly silenced. Megan knew the reporters were here for her, but she’d used the opportunity to give the Sevens tournament a plug. He hoped that this made the papers because although visitors meant possible exposure, the tourist dollars meant the town flourished.

  “Is it true that Rowena Tichmarsh has stolen your job on the new sports show with Dallas Jones?” someone shouted from the rear of the crowd.

  Megan smiled, although Jacey felt her inner tension. “My name was one of several in the running for the job. The network chose Rowena as the best candidate for the position, and I know she’ll do an excellent job. As you all know, I love sports. All sports, so I’m looking forward to seeing the show on our screens.”

  “How do you feel about the network choosing someone younger for the job?”

  Megan smiled again. “I don’t believe age came into the equation. The network chose the candidate they felt fit with their vision for the show. That is all.”

  “Who is the man you had dinner with? Is he your new boyfriend? Will there be any food fights?” a woman shouted above the other reporters.

  “I believe I can answer that,” Saber said. “Mr. Anderson won a raffle for a dinner with Ms. Saxon. The raf
fle funds are going toward new sports equipment for Middlemarch School. We’re still accepting donations, if any of you are interested in contributing for this worthwhile cause.”

  “What did you talk about?” a woman asked Jacey.

  “We discussed sports and rugby, skiing in Queenstown and the Middlemarch Rail trail. Oh, and we talked about roast beef because Storm in the Teacup does an excellent roast dinner. I recommend it,” Jacey said. “Also we argued about whether chocolate cake or lemon tart should come first on the top five dessert choices.”

  “Megan, what did you vote for?” the woman asked. “Chocolate or lemon?”

  “I’m afraid our argument remained unsettled since I couldn’t decide,” Megan said with a laugh.

  “Megan, do you feel any anger toward Rowena for stealing your job?”

  “No, not at all. Rowena will make an excellent host for the show,” Megan said.

  “What are you going to do now?” a man shouted. “They’ve replaced you on the commentating team.”

  “I have several options, which I will consider. Thank you, ladies and gentlemen. That is all.”

  Saber stepped in front of Megan and pushed his way through the jostling reporters and cameramen. Jacey followed Megan, making sure that no one grabbed her or attempted to interfere in her departure.

  They escorted Megan to her rental car and held the crowd back as she drove away. She’d be safe from reporters once she entered Gilcrest Station.

  “How come you and Henry were there last night if security is so good?” she’d demanded when he and Saber had discussed their plans to handle the reporters and her departure from the café.

  “One of the security lights was playing up, and we wanted to see it at night. The owner told us it wasn’t coming on as it should, but we couldn’t find anything wrong when we tested it during the day,” Jacey had said.

  Megan had seemed satisfied with the explanation.

  Jacey watched Megan drive away and itched to follow. They’d both agreed that he should leave it an hour before he visited her to give the reporters time to settle and hopefully leave. As Emily had pointed out to him, the reporters wouldn’t find anywhere to stay and would have to drive to one of the surrounding towns or back to Dunedin for accommodation.