Morgan's Hunter (40 page)

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Authors: Cate Beauman

BOOK: Morgan's Hunter
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“I’m happy to help. I’ll miss you two this week.”

“I’ll have you and Ethan over for dinner when we get—”

Mr. Ruff sailed through the air over the passenger’s seat, landing on Sarah’s strappy sandals, cutting off her comment. “My Mr. Ruff fly on plane,” Kylee said, clapping.

“Kylee’s very excited,” Sarah said to Hunter as she handed Mr. Ruff back. “I’m not sure if you can tell.”

Hunter maneuvered the car through heavy Los Angeles traffic, giving her a small smile. “I got that impression. She’s also very possessive these days. What’s up with all the ‘my’ stuff?”

“Just another fascinating phase of toddlerhood. Oh shoot, I forgot—”

“My shoot, my shoot,” Kylee interrupted.

Hunter grinned into the rearview mirror, chuckling while Kylee sang.

“Hey, there’s that smile,” Sarah said. “I haven’t seen it in awhile.”

Hunter glanced at her before returning his attention to the road. “What are you talking about?”

“I haven’t seen many smiles from you since you returned from Montana. Your eyes have been sad.”

“Leave it alone, Sarah.”

She knew the warning tone well, knew to let the budding conversation go until she found an opportunity to bring it up again. “Consider it left alone.”
For now
. She’d waited two months for answers; another week wouldn’t hurt. “Can I use your phone? Mine is packed in the carry-on in the trunk. I forgot to tell my mother not to overwater the plant in my bathroom. She’ll drown the poor thing if I don’t give her a specific amount and timetable.”

“Yeah, go ahead.” He dug in his pocket, handed it over.

She flipped the phone open, gaped. “Do you call NASA with this thing or regular people? Look at all of these buttons.” She pressed one at random and a picture popped up on the screen. An absolutely gorgeous woman laughed into Hunter’s grinning face.

Well, well, well, what’s this?
Sarah pushed the button again. Hunter and the dark haired beauty snuggled together, smiling happily. Sarah studied the background. A motel. The drab walls and ugly bedding did little to detract from the stunning picture they made.

She pushed the button once more. Hunter’s mouth was pressed against the woman’s. Tears filled Sarah’s eyes. She’d waited so long for this—to see the look in Hunter’s eyes that said he was happy, that said he’d found some peace. After his return from Afghanistan, she’d worried she might never see it again. But here it was.

“Are you going to make your call or just stare at the phone?” When she met his gaze, Hunter frowned. “What’s wrong?”

“Who’s this woman in these pictures?”

Hunter ripped the phone from her hand, glanced down, flinched. He snapped the phone shut, tossed it in the center console, stared ahead at the road.

She knew she should back down but pushed anyway. “Who is she, Hunter?”

“No one. She’s no one.”

His voice roughened, pain echoing in his answer, and Sarah aimed below the belt. Desperate times called for desperate measures. “I-I thought we were friends.” She faced the window, smiled when he huffed out a breath, muttered a curse—she figured that would do it.

“Her name is Morgan Taylor. She was my assignment while I was out in Montana.”

“Those pictures look like she was more than that. Are you in love with her? I already know the answer. Do you?”

“Sarah, I don’t want to talk about this.” He took the exit for LAX.

The temper Sarah rarely let loose boiled over. “I do, Hunter. I want to talk about this. I’m taking my daughter to Disney World by myself for her second birthday because her father and I always dreamed we would.”

“I’m so sorry, Sarah.”

“Stop that, damn it!” She ignored Kylee repeating her swear in another song. “I want you to stop that,” she said, trying to find her calm. “What happened to Jake wasn’t your fault. It isn’t any more your fault that you came home than it is Jake’s that he didn’t. I miss him every day. Every day I want him to walk through my door, to kiss me, to hug our daughter, to just be here. I can’t have that, Hunter, but you can. Have you looked at those pictures recently?”

He didn’t answer.

“Well, have you?”

“No.”

“You need to. Have you seen the way she looks into your eyes? Do you see the way you look into hers? She’s here. She’s
alive
and if I know you—and I do—you’ve pushed her away. You’re denying yourself what I wish I could have back. I’m angry with you for that.” She blew out a breath, laid her hand against his shoulder. “Love is a gift, Hunter. She loves you. Go get her.”

He parked the car, stared ahead. “I can’t.”


Why
?”

Lost, miserable eyes met hers. “Because I can’t do it. I can’t lose someone who means that much again. When her blood was on my hands… It brought everything back, Sarah.”

In all the years they’d been friends, she could only remember one other time his voice had wavered with such anguish. Poor Hunter. Sarah unfastened her seatbelt, hugged him. He gripped her against him as if his life depended on it, and she kissed his cheek. “I’ll back off for now, but this conversation isn’t over.”

Sarah turned in her seat, staring at her daughter who’d gone quiet. “Are you ready to go to Disney World?”

“My ‘sney World! My ‘sney World!”

Hunter got out of the car, took Kylee from her car seat. He settled her on his hip. “Well, let’s get you to your plane then.”

“My Unke Hunte,” Kylee said as she rubbed her hands up and down his cheeks.

He kissed her little nose, placed her in her stroller, grabbed the large suitcase from the trunk.

Sarah took the carry-on, bulging with books and other entertainment for Kylee, pulled the car seat from the back. “I think we’re ready.”

Hunter raised his eyebrows. “I certainly hope so.”

With the luggage checked, Hunter held Kylee tight, dragging the stroller she refused to sit in as they wandered through the chaos of Los Angeles International Airport.

After weaving their way through masses of people, he and Sarah stood at the back of the ridiculously long security line. Finally stationary, Kylee squirmed, trying to get down.

“Not yet, ma’am, it’s too crowded.” He put the stroller on top of the cart Sarah grabbed, wanting a better grip on the tiny blond escape artist in his arms.

Kylee pressed her hands against his chest, pushing, fussing. “No. Down.”

In an attempt to keep a tantrum at bay, he bounced her about, making her giggle while he spoke to Sarah. “I’ll pick you up next week as close to your gate as I can get. I have the flight information at home.”

“Sounds good. I’m serious about the meal at my house. You and Ethan plan a night that works for you. As long as I don’t have any photo shoots scheduled, I’ll make you dinner.”

“I can’t imagine either of us turning that one down.” Hunter scanned the countless people putting their bags in gray tubs for the x-ray machines. His eyes stopped dead on the farthest line to the right in disbelief. There she was.

Morgan bent down in her snug blue jeans, taking off black sandals. She put them in a bucket. Her purse and laptop case went in next. She took off her casual black business jacket, put it in with the rest.

She looked amazing, breathtaking, in her white spaghetti strapped top with her hair piled on her head in a messy knot.

“Hunter, what are you looking at?” Sarah followed the direction of Hunter’s stunned gaze.

He could only stare as his heart pounded, as his gut clenched with need.

Sarah smiled brilliantly, grabbed his arm. “Oh my God, there she is. Oh, Hunter, she’s even more beautiful in person.”

Morgan smiled at the security guard when she set off the buzzer for the third time. Breaking through his trance of utter surprise, Hunter placed Kylee in Sarah’s hands, shoved his way through the crowds, never taking his eyes off her.

Her lips moved as she spoke, laughing with the man who patted her down, running the wand around her. She grabbed her stuff from the bucket, put on her sandals, her jacket, headed down the long corridor toward her gate.

“Morgan!”

She kept walking.

He stopped at the counter when the security guard placed a hand on his chest, not allowing him any further forward. Hunter grabbed for his phone, swore as he remembered he’d left it in Sarah’s car.

With no other options, he cupped his hands around his mouth, yelled again. He watched helplessly as she disappeared into the crowd and out of his life again.

Chapter 33

U
NABLE TO SLEEP, HUNTER STARED at the Eiffel tower illuminating the night sky, thinking of Morgan. In the week since he saw her at LAX, he’d done little but play back their last moments outside the police station.

Morgan’s eyes, brimming with tears, monopolized his mind. She’d fought so hard to keep them from falling, had battled even harder to appear unaffected by his sudden cruelty. He’d heard her struggles to steady her breathing, to keep her voice from trembling. He knew he’d hurt her, yet walked away because it had been easier for him.

He rested his elbows on the balcony, blew out a long breath, oblivious to the sights and sounds of Paris far below.

His mind wandered back to the airport. Morgan had looked good; stunning, happy—as if she’d picked up her life and kept going. Did she think of him? Did she need him even half as much as he needed her? He clenched his jaw as he feared she didn’t.

Resting his forehead on his palms, he struggled to remember he was on duty, protecting one of Hollywood’s leading ladies on her five-day promotional tour through Europe. His hotel room adjoined the hottest woman’s in the world, but he only wanted Morgan.

Hunter pulled his phone from his pocket, pressed a button. He could all but hear Morgan’s laugh as he stared at the picture he’d taken while they joked about Mrs. Bester’s chicken and dumplings. Her stunning face frozen in laughter, while he grinned at her, illuminated the screen. Hunter pressed the button twice more, until the picture of his lips capturing hers filled the display. He unconsciously rubbed at the ache in his chest.

As he stared at the picture in front of him, the truth glared back, easy for him to see. Sarah had been right—the man and woman in the pictures were undeniably in love.

God, what had he done?

After the twelve-hour flight home from Europe, Hunter walked through the door of his small apartment, flipped on a light, dropped his bag with a careless thud.

Knowing what he had to do, he picked up the phone. He punched in his company code, making his name and number unavailable, dialed Morgan’s cell phone. If her readout came up UNKOWN NAME, UNKOWN NUMBER instead of showing his, she might answer.

Morgan’s sexy voice told him if he left a message, she would get back to him. Hunter swore, hung up. After two days of listening to her cell phone go to voicemail, he tried her house line. She could avoid him, but she would have to deal with him eventually.

The phone continued to ring. He jammed a hand through his hair, waiting for voicemail to pick up.

“Hello?”

Hunter’s stomach sank when a man answered. Had she moved on already? “Uh, hello. Is Morgan there?”

“No she’s not. Can I take a message?”

The voice was familiar. “Stanley, is that you? This is Hunter Phillips.”

“Hunter, my boy, how are you?”

He didn’t miss the way Stanley’s tone sharpened. Stanley wasn’t a fool. Hunter imagined he knew something had gone on between him and his daughter in Yellowstone. “I can’t complain. How about you?”

“I’m pretty good, pretty good. So, you’re looking for Morgan.”

Hunter ran tongue over teeth, imagining the battle light in Stanley’s eyes. Stanley could help him or punch him in the balls, make finding Morgan fairly difficult. “Actually, yes. Will she be back soon?”

“No. I haven’t seen her much since we got back from Yellowstone. My little peanut has worked herself ragged the last nine weeks. She just hasn’t been the same since our return from Montana. Ilene’s certain Morgan still mourns for her friends, but I almost wonder if it might not be, well…something else. It concerns a father to see his beautiful daughter’s eyes so full of pain and sadness every time he looks at her.”

The meaning behind Stanley’s words hung heavy on the line. What was he supposed to say to that? “I really need to talk to her, Stanley.”

“Well, Morgan’s not here. She was out in your neck of the woods for a good month, now she’s in Maine. They actually tagged one of those damn lynx, if you can believe that.”

“That’s great, really great.” She would be happy about the lynx, but Hunter couldn’t get past the fact that Morgan had been in L.A. for a month and never tried to contact him. He jammed his hand through his hair as panic slammed into his belly like a fist. What if he couldn’t fix this? What if he’d ruined the best thing that ever happened to him?

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