Page 80 of A Forever Love

“I’d like you to keep Mere occupied for a while.” Keith’s request tightens a knot of guilt in my chest. If only he knew what he was asking of me.

“Everything alright?” I ask in the most casual voice I can manage at the moment.

“Clem and I are on our way to Cherrywood. We’re planning to surprise Mere and bring her home for her birthday.”

“Where are you right now?” I push the words out.

“We’re still thirty minutes away from you.”

I release a calming breath. “We’ll be waiting. I mean, I’ll stay with Mere as you asked.”

Shit! Why am I explaining myself to Keith? I’ve never done that.

While I find myself questioning every word that comes out of my mouth, Keith responds in his usual easygoing manner. “Thanks, man.”

Of course he’s casual. Nothing has changed in his world, but since coming to Cherrywood, my life has undergone a complete one-eighty.

As I set my phone back on the nightstand, I spot the yellow paper starlight hanging on the wall above Merida’s bedside. On her fourteenth birthday, at her request, I took her to the mall and purchased it as a birthday present. Clementine had told her some story about dead people becoming stars, and Merida wanted a reminder of her mother without throwing it in Keith’s face.

“Here I thought people feel calm after sex.”

Her voice draws my attention back to her face. I lean in, planting a tender kiss on her lips. “I feel it now.”

“Quite sweet this morning, aren’t you?” Her cheeks take on a delicate flush, making her look even more beautiful.

“I’ll be even sweeter when I bring you a cinnamon latte. How about you take a shower, and we meet in the kitchen?”

Mere stretches her back, pulling the sheet precariously over her chest before locking her smoldering gaze with mine. “I was thinking we could stay right here in bed since it’s the weekend.” She blushes while attempting to sound confident.

“You don’t know how much I want that, mittens.” I lean in, planting a gentle kiss on her nose. “But someone is coming to see you.”

From this close, I can clearly see the anxiety wash over her face. “Who?”

“Keith.” My fists clench the sheets as her face pales in front of me.

“Dad?” Merida rolls out of bed, wrapping herself in the sheets like a cocoon. “God, what do I do?” she mumbles while gathering her clothes from the floor, then turns to me. “You need to go now, Carter. I’ll tidy up the apartment and take a shower—”

“Shh.” I place a finger over her lips. “First, just breathe.” As always, she follows my lead without argument. Something must be awfully wrong with me because I love her obedience. “Good. Everything is fine. They’re still thirty minutes away.”

“They?”

My lips purse as I hesitate, not wanting to spoil her dad’s surprise. “It’s Keith and Clem. No more questions. Take a shower and meet me in the kitchen.” I turn Merida toward the bathroom and head back to the living room.

Once she’s out of sight, guilt and anxiety return with a vengeance. I start the stove, setting a pot of milk to boil with a stick of cinnamon and a pinch of nutmeg. My eyes scan the living room. There’s a half-empty Chardonnay bottle from the previous night on the coffee table. My shoes are placed neatly next to hers, and my jacket hangs on the coat rack. I’m wearing pants, but my shirt is somewhere in her bedroom. The mini-Glock I carry in my ankle holster rests on her nightstand.

If Keith were to walk in right now, it would take him less than a second to realize I spent the night in Merida’s bed. Would that be so bad?

As if fate itself decided to respond with a resounding “yes,” the milk starts to sizzle, but I manage to turn off the flame just in the nick of time before it spills. Carefully, I pour the spiced milk over the espresso shot in a single cup, and set it onto the counter.

A sense of uneasiness consumes me as I move around the living room, meticulously returning everything to its proper place. With every step I take, I hate the situation more and more. Merida used to stay at my place all the time, but today, everything feels different.

Today, we are different.

I’m just wiping the wineglasses when Merida returns with my shirt in one hand and my wallet, wristwatch, and Glock in the other.

“I don’t like this.” Words spill out of my mouth.

“Wh-what do you mean? Are you…leaving?”