Haven Creek (12 page)

“Dylan’s not interested in me. He’s here with his girlfriend.”

Nate grunted. “Since when has that stopped a dude from hitting on another man’s woman?”

Her eyes drank in the sensuality of the man who was separated from her by the small span of the round table. It was she who’d stared at Nate when he’d gotten up to get his food, too engrossed in him to notice whether other women were staring at him. “Don’t you mean another man’s friend?”

Nate waved his hand. “It doesn’t matter whether it’s a girlfriend, fiancée, lover, or wife. There’s an unwritten rule among dudes that you never cross that line. And Hoyt crossed it when he kissed you.”

Morgan’s confusion increased when she replayed Nate’s rationalization over and over in her head. She didn’t want to read more into it, because then she would have to conclude he was jealous, and there was definitely no reason for him to be jealous of her and another man. They’d laid down the ground rules. They would be friends without a physical relationship. And for Morgan, that meant that she was free to pick and choose whom she wanted to date or sleep with.

“Did we not establish that we would be friends and nothing more?”

“I’m not debating that, Morgan. How would you feel if we were out together and some woman pushed up on me and then kissed my mouth?”

Not wanting to get into an argument with Nate as to their prearranged relationship, Morgan chose her words carefully. “It wasn’t a real kiss, Nate. He just missed my cheek. Honestly, I don’t know how I would react, especially if I didn’t know her. I’d probably be more surprised than anything else. But you know Dylan.”

“Remember I’ve been away for a long time, so I don’t know your connection to him.”

“There is no connection other than we graduated the same year. There are a couple of things you should know about me. I’m not a jealous person and I’m not your ex-wife. In other words, you can trust me not to screw around on you if we decide to take our friendship to the next level. And if we don’t and I meet someone with whom I want more than friendship, then you’ll be the first to know.”

A beat passed. “You don’t bite your tongue, do you?” Nate asked.

She smiled. “Not when it comes to defending my actions or beliefs,” Morgan countered. “It’s different when you’re the youngest in the family. Not only did I have to fight not to be treated like a baby, I had to fight for my independence. I come from a family of scientists who expected me to follow in their footsteps. My parents are dentists, Rachel has a degree in forensic science, and Irene is not only a medical examiner but she also married one. They see me as the oddball artist who spends her time drawing and decorating grown-up dollhouses. So if you feel you’re going to have a problem dealing with my frankness, then I suggest we stick to a solely business relationship.”

Slumping back in his chair, Nate’s gaze met and fused with hers. “I don’t have a problem with you being outspoken. It’s one of the things, along with you being unpretentious, that I like about you.”

Bowing her head slightly, she smiled. Most men she met were usually turned off or intimidated by her directness. She’d spent too many years hiding, retreating, cowering, and praying she wouldn’t become a target of their ridicule. “Thank you.”

“There’s no need to thank me. I like the fact that you’re confident enough to accept who you are.”

It’d taken a long time for Morgan to accept who she was. Once she decided she wanted to become an architect rather than an engineer, it signaled a turning point in her life. Whenever she accompanied her grandfather on his photo shoots, it was the old buildings she loved photographing. Peering through the viewfinder at a dilapidated structure, she’d tried to imagine who’d lived there and what their lives had been like. She was very confident in her career. Much more confident than she was when it came to interacting with men.

“I think there’s one more thing you need to understand before I take you home tonight.”

Nate’s ominous tone caught Morgan off guard. “What’s that?”

“You’re nothing like my ex-wife.”

“Should I take that as a compliment or an insult?”

A hint of a smile played at the corners of Nate’s mouth. “It’s definitively and unequivocally a compliment.” He signaled a passing waiter, asking that he bring the check for their drinks. “Are you certain you don’t want another glass of wine?” he asked Morgan.

“I’m going to pass because I made plans to go into the office tomorrow.”

“You work six days a week?”

“It’s more like five and a half. I open at ten and close around two on Saturdays.” Morgan had to shout in order to be heard over a group of men and women who had entered the club cradling large decorative bags filled with gaily wrapped gifts. The hostess sat the party of twenty at a long table only a few feet from Morgan and Nate. The sounds of shrieking, laughter, and the booming bass-line beats coming from the powerful sound system made it impossible for her to hear what he was saying.

Pushing back his chair, Nate rounded the table. “Let’s get out of here,” he said in her ear. He paid the waiter, telling him to keep the change.

Morgan needed no further prompting. The noise had escalated to an ear-shattering level. Nate held onto her hand as he pushed his way through the throngs of people standing at the bar. It was apparent the impending storm had held off long enough for Happy Hour regulars to come out and enjoy a night of live music, food, and exotic drinks. They managed to make it to the front door, where a line of young men and women waited at the entrance, hoping to gain admittance. “I’m glad we decided to come early,” Nate remarked as he led Morgan to his truck.

“I’ve told Jesse and Dwayne to expand the club to include a room for private parties. That way they won’t have to turn away people at the door. Jeff is a nitpicker when it comes to overcrowding. One time he came by on patrol and there were so many people in the club folks could hardly move. Jeff told Jesse he had to shut down immediately and warned him that the next time he was cited for overcrowding, he would have to appear in front a judge and face the possibility of having his liquor license suspended.”

Nate helped Morgan up and then came around and sat beside her. “Sharon tells me Jeff is a straight-up, no-nonsense sheriff. I don’t see it, because whenever we talk he seems so laid-back.”

“He takes his job very seriously,” Morgan said in confirmation. “After spending twenty years in the Marine Corps as a military police officer, he’s not to be played with. Did Sharon tell you what happened a couple of years back, when he first took over as sheriff and he had a run-in with some kids from the mainland who’d come over on the ferry to get high?”

“No. What happened?”

“They confronted him and ended up a sorry sight by the time the EMTs took them to Charleston for medical attention.”

Pressing the button to start the engine, Nate shifted into reverse and backed out. He’d barely cleared the space when a low-slung two-seater nearly hit his bumper as the driver swerved into the parking space.

“What did he do to them?”

“When Jeff confronted them in the Cove’s schoolyard, one kid came at him with a bat while another pulled a gun. Then the fight started, with Jeff coming out the winner. He grabbed the bat and broke the arms of the boy with the gun, and then he punched out the wannabe baseball player. At first we heard there were six kids, but the official report said there were only four.”

“With four against one they definitely had the advantage.”

“They would’ve had the advantage against someone not trained in hand-to-hand combat.”

Nate’s deep chuckle echoed in the close confines of the vehicle. “It sounds like they had a death wish.”

Morgan’s sultry laughter joined his. “I’m certain a few of them were wishing for death or anything to stop the pain. That’s when the word circulated that Cavanaugh Island has a badass sheriff who’d rather bust heads than talk. It must have worked because we haven’t had any problems with kids starting trouble.”

“I wish he would’ve been the one to straighten Bryce out. It’s different when someone you know is breathing down your neck twenty-four seven.”

Morgan stared out the windshield as Nate accelerated along the narrow road leading back to her house. “How’s he doing?”

“So far, so good. He’s working with me now. Bryce is truly gifted. Unlike Dad and me, who usually sketch our patterns before we begin carving, Bryce will pick up a wood chisel and start right in. Right now we’re working on the doors to a replica of an eighteenth-century French armoire.”

“I would love to see it!” Morgan couldn’t hide her excitement. It wasn’t often she got to see handcrafted pieces before they were finished.

Nate gave her a quick glance. “When?”

“Now?”

“Baby, the place is full of dust and I wouldn’t want you to ruin your dress and shoes.”

Morgan placed her hand over Nate’s as he gripped the steering wheel. She wondered if his calling her baby was said unconsciously or whether it was deliberate. “Then when can I see it?”

“What about early Sunday morning?”

She grimaced. “I usually go to early service on Sunday, and it’s also my turn to host Sunday dinner. My mother and sisters rotate preparing dinner and I’m usually the second Sunday in the month.” Morgan pursed her lips. “I just thought of something.”

Nate maneuvered into the driveway to Morgan’s house, stopping under the carport. “What is it?”

“Come and eat with us. That is, if you don’t have prior plans. Then after dinner I can change—”

“I promised Dad I would see him Sunday,” Nate said, cutting her off. “But there’s no reason why we can’t get together later in the evening.”

Morgan nodded. “We’re usually finished around seven. Is that too late?”

Reaching over, Nate’s forefinger grazed the short curls on the nape of her neck. “No, it’s not too late.”

Unbuckling her seat belt, Morgan leaned to her left and kissed his smooth cheek. “Thanks for tonight. I really enjoyed myself.”

“Same here.” Nate caught her chin, angled his head, and touched his mouth to hers. “I’ll walk you to your door.”

There was no passion in the kiss, but the joining was enough to remind her of long-forgotten desire. “That’s okay.”

Nate was already getting out and coming around to assist her. Resting a hand at the small of her back, he walked her to the door. Morgan unlocked it, and as if on cue Rasputin sat there waiting for her.

Bending slightly, Nate scooped up the cat. “Hey, Blue. What’s up? Are you ready to meet your girlfriend? She’s a little older than you, but cougars are in vogue and no one will care if you sleep with an older queen.”

Morgan tried not to smile. “Go home, Nate, and stop trying to turn my cat into some kind of feline stud.”

He handed Morgan her pet. “You may not have a say once he meets Patches.”

Her dimples winked at him when she smiled. “Good night,
friend
.”

His warm smile matched hers. “Good night.”

Morgan waited until the sound of the engine faded before closing and locking the door. She didn’t know what to make of the time they’d spent together. It was as if Nate were saying, “Come to me,” and when she did he would put up a barrier telling her to go away. He’d professed to want friendship, but then it seemed as if he wanted more than that when he complained about Dylan kissing her.

Although Morgan hadn’t wanted a relationship in the past, she could see herself having one with Nate, which frightened her because none of her previous relationships had worked. It couldn’t be a friends-with-benefits relationship, because she’d harbored feelings for Nate for far too long. It had to be all or nothing for Morgan, and since Nate told her he had no interest in getting remarried, she didn’t want to waste her time or get hurt.

Think with your head and not your heart.
Never were her grandfather’s words more prophetic than now, when her teenage wish had come true. Morgan’s eyelids fluttered wildly as she attempted to blink back tears. Heaviness settled in her chest, making breathing difficult. She realized life had thrown her a wicked curve. The adage “Be careful what you wish for” was standing on her chest
and
staring her in the face.

Nate tossed restlessly on the bed. Before leaving the house he’d closed all the windows, and the buildup of heat was smothering. Tossing back the sheet, he reached up and touched the light switch, turning on the ceiling fan. The blades rotated slowly until they reached maximum speed, dispelling some of the hot air. He’d tried sleeping, but his mind was a jumble of confusing thoughts that had everything to do with Morgan.

He didn’t understand why he’d disclosed things to her he hadn’t told anyone else. Nate knew his father resented his sister-in-law, blaming Lizzie for seducing his twin brother, who had walked away from the family business to follow her to California. And when Nate announced he was going to San Diego to live with his widowed aunt while attending college, for Lucas, it’d been history repeating itself. His late brother’s widow had worked her wiles again. This time she’d lured his son three thousand miles away instead of encouraging him to attend a local college, as Lucas had wanted him to.

Nate hadn’t told his father that he was not only running away but also looking for someone to replace his mother, and that someone wasn’t Odessa. Lizzie offered Nate the emotional stability he needed to accept his mother’s untimely death as well as Lucas and Odessa’s deception and the anxiety of being separated from Sharon and Bryce.

Nate had studied Morgan’s expression when he’d talked about his aunt and uncle. Not only had she hung onto every word, she had also empathized with him when he’d mentioned Lizzie’s declining health and death. The one time he’d attempted to tell Kim about his aunt, she said she didn’t want to hear about dead people.

Nate knew he’d overreacted when he saw Dylan and Morgan hugging and kissing. The encounter was a blatant reminder of the times he’d witnessed his ex-wife hugging and kissing men, men she’d subsequently admitted to sleeping with.

Closing his eyes, he ran a hand over his face. Nate had to remember his reason for coming back to Haven Creek. It wasn’t to become involved with a woman—even one as beautiful and intelligent as Morgan. It was to pick up the pieces of his life and reconnect with his family.