Immortal Sea (18 page)

Wiley gave a short nod. “I’ll see you tonight, then. Six o’clock.”

“Six,” Liz repeated. “But what about dinner?”

She bit her tongue the instant the words left her mouth. She was the one to insist Zack get a job. But she hadn’t expected him to find one so soon, she thought, torn between guilt and pride. And she’d never intended him to work nights.

Despite their sometimes competing schedules, throughout her husband’s illness and after his death, Liz had made the family dinner a priority, a constant, a way of demonstrating to her children and herself that life went on.

And life did go on. Life changed. Zack was changing right before her eyes. He was barely wearing makeup tonight, she realized, just a touch of liner to offset his long gold eyes.

He shrugged, apparently uncomfortable with her inspection. “I’ll grab a sandwich before I go.”

“I’ll make you something.”

“You don’t have to.”

She needed to do something, to connect with him somehow, to make up to him in some way for whatever failures had brought them to this place. “I want to.”

“Whatever. Thanks,” he added in a voice that meant
“Leave me alone
.
”

She fixed tuna melts, and the three of them ate dinner together. Early, so Zack could leave for work on time, although Liz had no appetite and he kept looking at the clock.

At least he ate, she told herself as she carried their plates to the sink. But he hadn’t spoken a word to her.

The doorbell rang.

“I’ll get it.” Emily, always sensitive to tension, jumped up from the table.

Zack followed her into the hall.

Liz shut off the water with her elbow and reached for a dishtowel. “Make sure you see who it is before you open the—”

“Morgan!” Emily said.

Liz’s heart bounded as high and glad as Emily’s voice. Stupid heart. It was only the memory of her dream, the rush of sex, the contact high she got from being in the same room with him, that caused that erratic jump in her pulse. Or maybe it was the relief of having another adult in the house.

“And he brought a kitten!” Emily shouted.

Liz’s jaw dropped. She closed her mouth. Swallowed.

Adult, my ass,
she thought, and went to deal with the situation.

Morgan stood in the entryway, tall, dark, and formidable with winter pale hair and eyes. Against his chest in one large hand he supported a small striped kitten. Emily danced around them as Zack watched from the stairs.

“What are you doing?” Liz asked, keeping her voice low.

Morgan raised his brows at her tone. “Your daughter already told you.” He unhooked tiny claws from his sweater and handed the kitten to Emily. “I brought you a cat.”

“She’s so cute,” Emily crooned, cuddling the little head under her chin. “What’s her name?”

“His name,” Morgan corrected, “is up to you.”

Her eyes widened with delight. “I can name him?”

“You can keep him.”

“Now, just a minute,” Liz said.

“Can I?” Emily whirled, clutching the kitten to her breast. “Can I, Mommy?”

Liz’s heart sank at the mingled hope and appeal in her daughter’s face. She had enough to deal with already. They all did. Morgan had no right to dump this on her. “We need to talk about this, Em,” she said gently. “You’re just starting camp. A pet is a lot to take on right now.”

“That means no,” Zack said.

Emily’s face fell.

Liz drew a careful breath. “It means we need to talk. You caught me by surprise.”

“That’s ‘Hell, no,’ ” Zack translated.

“We have to be responsible,” Liz insisted. “We have to consider the consequences.”

“Why?” Morgan asked.

She turned on him. “Excuse me?”

He took a step toward her, holding her gaze. “You are taking something simple and making it complicated. Your daughter wants a cat. I found her a cat.”

“You found it.”

He nodded. “Behind the restaurant.”

A stray. It probably had germs. Fleas. Parasites.

And none of that mattered compared to the look on her daughter’s face. Emily sat on the floor with the kitten in her lap, happiness shining in her eyes.

“We don’t have anything to feed it,” Liz said weakly.

“Regina has been feeding it scraps from the kitchen.” Morgan moved closer, lowering his voice so only she could hear. “Let go, Elizabeth. Give in. There is no harm in losing a little control.”

Her face burned. “This isn’t about us. This is about what’s best for Emily.”

“Your daughter needs friends. She needs this.”

Oh, God, he was right. How could she have missed it? How could he understand what her children needed better than she did herself?

Her sense of failure tightened her throat. She forced herself to smile. “Advice from an expert?”

“Easy enough to give her what she wants.” His smile gleamed. “You are more difficult.”

Her breath shuddered out. No one else looked at her the way he did. Wanted her the way he seemed to. How could he say such things to her now, in front of her children? Emily, thank God, was too young to understand, but Zack . . .

“I can bring home the food and litter and stuff,” Zack said from above them on the stairs. “When I get off work.”

“It’s too much for you to carry.”

“I can do it.”

“I’ll pick you up,” she said. “When do you get off, eleven? It’ll be dark anyway.”

“And Em will be in bed,” Zack said. “Stop treating me like a kid, Mom.”

He was a kid. Her kid. She didn’t want to coddle him, but life had taught her how unexpectedly things could go suddenly, horribly wrong.

“I’m still responsible for you.”

Zack shook his head. “I’m out of here.” He thumped down the stairs, stepped over Emily in the hall.

“Zack . . .”

“See you.” He brushed by Morgan and slammed out the door.

Liz closed her eyes.

“If you want him to be a man,” Morgan said, “you must let him take a man’s part.”

It was a relief to have someone her own age to fight. She opened her eyes to glare. “He’s only fifteen.”

“Old enough to pull at a tight rein. Did you never take the bit in your mouth when you were his age?”

“Not really. I was a good girl. A good student.” Her voice was only faintly bitter. “I spent my time cramming to get into a good school.”

“Ah, yes. The Plan.” His lips curved, cool and amused. “I remember.”

She blinked. “You do?”

His gaze met hers, and her heart jolted. His eyes were not cool at all. “There was a time you wanted more than your parents wanted for you.”

She swallowed. “And I got more than I bargained for.”

“An adventure,” he said softly.

Memory thumped in the pit of her stomach.

“More than an adventure,” she reminded him. Her rash decision that night had life-changing consequences. Morgan had given her a baby.

And now, it seemed, he’d given her a cat.

She looked at Emily, playing with the kitten on the floor. The little pucker between her brows was gone, her expression open and more relaxed than at any time since their move to World’s End. Liz would accept anything and anyone who put that smile on her daughter’s face.

And the kitten was responsible, she thought. No, Morgan was responsible.

He arched an eyebrow. “Regrets?”

“No,” she answered honestly. “Thank you. For the cat.”

Emily’s head shot up. “We’re keeping him?” She sought confirmation in her mother’s face. “We’re keeping him!”

Scrambling from the floor, she launched herself at Morgan, hugging as high as she could reach. “Thank you! Thank you, Morgan.”

He stiffened like a startled dog.

Liz bit her lip, a pang at her heart. He wasn’t used to children, she reminded herself. Emily wasn’t his. Despite his kindness this afternoon and his gesture with the kitten, he could not give her open-hearted daughter the affection she sought.

“It’s Mr. Bressay, honey,” she reminded gently.

He raised his large hand and slowly, carefully stroked her daughter’s curls. “Morgan.” His voice was harsh. He cleared his throat. “I told her to call me Morgan.”

Emily tipped back her head and beamed. “Because we’re friends.”

“Yes.” His deep voice made the word sound like a vow. “We are.”

He crouched beside her. “Now that the cat has a home, you must give it a name.”

They both watched the kitten. Deprived of Emily’s attention, it stalked across the floor and pounced on Morgan’s boot.

Emily giggled. “Tigger.”

His brows rose in question.

“From
Winnie the Pooh
,” Liz supplied. “He bounces.” Morgan looked blank.

Poor man. He really was out of his element.

Yet there was nothing false about his interaction with Emily, none of the fake heartiness of her male colleagues who had tried to hit on her with her children around. He treated Emily with the same grave courtesy he might have shown an adult.

And Emily, Liz saw, soaked up his masculine attention like a flower turning its face to the sun. “I’ll take good care of him,” she promised. “He can sleep on my bed.”

“In a box,” Liz said.

“In a box on my bed,” Emily said without missing a beat.

“I saw big boxes in your garage,” Morgan remarked. “Big as houses, if you were the size of your kitten.”

Emily’s eyes rounded. “We could make a Tigger house.”

“I imagine we could,” he agreed.

Smooth, Liz thought. He was very good at getting what he wanted.

“
I want you,
” he had said last night, his tone low and thrilling, dark desire in his eyes.

She gnawed her lower lip again. She appreciated his intervention with Emily. He was perceptive, he was kind. But he was not safe.

“The moving carton is a great idea,” she said. “Emily, honey, why don’t you look in the linen closet and see if we have any towels to make a bed for Tigger? The green ones.”

“Can I take Tigger?”

“Tigger will be fine down here with me. Now scoot. The faster you get the towels, the sooner we can get started on his house.”

Her daughter bolted up the stairs.

She faced Morgan, trying to ignore her stuttering heart. “What are you doing?”

That beautiful mouth curved. “I believe I am turning a carton into some kind of cat accommodations.”

“You didn’t come over tonight to build a kitty condo.”

“My plans will wait.”

“But you had plans.” For God’s sake, why was she pushing this?

“I have . . . hopes.”

The look in his eyes made her stomach jump. It was uncomfortable and intoxicating to flirt like this, to want like this, with her daughter only a flight of stairs away.

“I can’t . . .” She inhaled and tried again. “This isn’t appropriate.”

“I have slightly more finesse than the cat, Elizabeth.” There was an edge to his voice now, sharp and dangerous. “I will not pounce in front of your children.”

The focus in his eyes made her blood tingle. “And what happens later?”

“What is later? A year, a month, a week from now?” He shrugged. “I am here now with you. It is enough for me.”

She’d told him she needed trust, tenderness, companionship, commitment. Could the first three be enough? Could passion be enough?

Her heart pounded. She felt dizzy, as if she stood on a cliff above a raging sea.
Step back from the edge?
she wondered.
Or take the plunge?

Swallowing hard, she took one step closer to the fall. “I meant later tonight.”

His hot gaze locked with hers. “That is up to you.”

He could eat her up in a few hasty bites.

But he had promised her finesse, and he was experienced enough to know greed could be his undoing. So he controlled his hunger with a hunter’s patience, making himself useful, biding his time. He hauled a moving carton upstairs. While Elizabeth unearthed bowls and her daughter shredded newspaper, he cut down the sides of the box so the kitten could not climb out and the girl could not fall in.