Meant To Be by Donna Marie Rogers

missed over the last couple of years.
    Oh, who the heck was she kidding? Her relationship with Wade had been nothing but volatile from the moment they'd met. At sixteen years old, his brooding, bad boy act had been sexy as hell. After four years of living in a one-room efficiency apartment with barely enough money to keep the electric on while he lay on his lazy ass all day, the thrill had definitely worn off.
    "Those almost done?” Garrett asked, popping her back into the present.
    She slid the grilled sandwiches onto plates and carried them to the table. Her mouth crooked at the sight of Mr. Louie sprawled across Garrett's lap getting the scratching of his life. She'd experienced those magical hands herself, so she could certainly relate to the loud purring and eyes closed in ecstasy. Garrett continued to scratch Mr. Louie while wolfing down his two sandwiches, which made him an even better catch in her estimation.
    Her hand halted halfway to her mouth. ‘An even better catch'? What in God's name was she thinking? She didn't want a man in her life. And she didn't deserve a decent man like this one, not after the gazillion bad choices she'd made.
    But he doesn't have to know about any of that, her heart argued back. Your old life is a million miles away, and if he hasn't looked into your past by now, why would he?
    "Jess? Hey, you all right? You're starting to look a little green around the gills."
    She set the sandwich down on her plate and got up to get them something to drink. “I'm fine,” she said as she poured them each a glass of milk. “Just rethinking putting a greasy grilled sandwich in my stomach at,” she glanced at the clock, “one o'clock in the morning. Probably should've just had a plain old ham and cheese on rye."
    She wasn't sure whether he bought it or not, but he smiled as he wiped the crumbs from his hands and mouth. “Well, they were tasty, so I'm glad I have an iron stomach. Sorry, boy,” he said as he set Mr. Louie on the floor and rose to his feet.
    Jessica carried their plates and glasses to the sink, and when she turned back around, Garrett was waiting for her with an outstretched hand and a smile. Pushing all thoughts of her loser ex-husband from her mind, Jessica slipped her hand into Garrett's and followed him back to the bedroom.
    * * * *
    Incessant pounding on her back door woke Jessica up out of a sound sleep. She squinted her eyes against the early morning sun filtering in through the blinds and sat up with a jaw-popping yawn. Beside her, Garrett slept like the dead. With a shake of her head, she slipped out of bed.
    After a quick glance at the clock, she shrugged into her robe and headed into the kitchen. A groan escaped her when she pulled back the curtains and saw Ethan standing there, looking none too happy. What in God's name were Mike and Sara thinking letting the little bugger roam the streets at seven o'clock in the morning? Pasting a smile of welcome on her face, she opened the door.
    "Morning, Ethan. What can I do for you?"
    He glared up at her. “Is my uncle Garrett here? We have to finish building my dog house."
    With a silent sigh, Jessica unlatched the screen door and let him inside. “Why don't you have a seat at the kitchen table, and I'll go get your uncle."
    "Great, more freakin’ banging,” she grumbled as she stalked back into her bedroom. She stood beside the bed with her arms crossed glaring down at the oblivious man. A reluctant smile lifted her lips when he rolled onto his side and reached for her, then patted the bed as if she'd somehow gotten lost in the comforter.
    "I'm right here, Jamison. And I'd advise you get your lazy bones up and dressed. Ethan is sitting at my kitchen table waiting for you to come finish his dog house."
    He sat up in a rush, eyes widened in comical dismay. “Shit, I completely forgot. Does he know I'm here?"
    She rolled her eyes. “Uh, yeah, brainiac, he came looking for you. Why do you think he's sitting in my kitchen looking