Bleeding Love

“I’ll miss you too, little lady, so much.”

My eyes never leave Megan’s. Her pained face the last thing I see before I drop Molly softly to her feet, ruffle her curls and turn to leave them behind. Ignoring every instinct I have to charge in there and demand Megan see what I see.

That together, if she would just grab that damn rope I’m struggling to hold on to and climb, that we—us and Molly—would have everything.

It isn’t until I pull my truck into my parent’s driveway that I realize it wasn’t just pain in her gaze right before I left her house. If I’m not mistaken . . . there was also hope.

I climb down from the cab and make my way up the walk to the front door, my thoughts running a million miles a minute. If I’m right, if that was hope, then maybe—fucking maybe—I’ve finally started to break through the wall that’s been separating us.

“Whoa, baby boy!”

Pushing my thoughts aside, I look up and smile at my mom. Her dark hair streaked with gray, her brown eyes holding strong laugh lines, but right now looking at me and seeing right through the smile I’ve plastered on my face.

“Do you need your mom or your dad right now, honey?”

I reach out, pull her into my arms and give her a tight hug. Her arms come up and hold me close.

As my hug pulls her off her feet, she laughs. “My guess is my boy needs me.” She guesses correctly.

“A little of both, Mom. Definitely a little of both.”

After I place her back down on her heels, she reaches up and pats my cheek. I look down and give her a weak smile.

“Well, come on. Let’s not let any flies in the house. Your dad is out back mowing the lawn. Let’s me and you have a chat before he comes and hogs all your attention.”

I follow her in, going straight to the kitchen and pulling one of the chairs from the table before dropping down.

“Water, coke or beer?” she asks from the open fridge door.

“Vodka?”

“Ah, I figured this chat would be coming sooner or later.”

I look at her, questions clear in my eyes because she just smiles. She doesn’t speak as she bends to the cabinet that holds the strong liquor. I watch—and wait—as she fixes my drink before rounding the island and joining me at the table.

“It’s Megan, right?”

I narrow my eyes and take a healthy pull, enjoying the way the burn feels down my throat.

“Should I ask how you know this?”

“You could, but I won’t give away my secrets. One day, when you’re in my shoes you’ll understand me when I tell you that a mother always knows.”

I shake my head and look down into the glass. Not really seeing anything except the way that Megan looked when I walked out of her door.

“I have no idea if I’m doing this right,” I tell her honestly.

“Oh, baby,” she starts. “There isn’t a right or wrong way to do anything when it comes to what the heart wants. Everyone has to learn that the hard way. Your father and I had to, just like everyone else.”

I look up at her words and I feel my brows pull in.

“Don’t look at me like that.” She reaches up and pushes against the skin between my eyes until I relax my gaze. “I talked to Izzy the other night, that’s your freebie.” She winks, letting me in on her secret to knowing why I’m here before I could tell her. “Dani fills her in often on how Megan is doing. I don’t think it’s lost on you that Izzy and Axel have a soft spot for Megan and Molly. They call them their M&M’s,” she smiles.

M&M’s, I smile. So fitting.

“Every step of the way, baby boy. What I haven’t seen for myself, is when you two are in a room together, I’ve heard bits and pieces through Izzy—who got them from Dani.”

I look back down to my glass. Damn Dani and her big mouth.

“You know your father had his hands full when he met me,” she says and I look back up, meeting her sad eyes.

What is this?

“I didn’t make it easy, honey. I could kick myself now for all the trouble I was in the beginning. Really made him work for it and all because I was scared. I don’t know what’s holding her back, but it wouldn’t be a stretch to guess. Fear is a powerful thing, but honey she’s also got a lot of loss on her shoulders. All I can tell you is that you’re one hundred and fifty percent your father’s son and I have no doubt in my mind that you feeling this way, means you know what you want. Nothing and I mean nothing, honey, stands in the way of a Beckett man when he’s found that.”