Morgan let the door swing closed behind her and carried Ford’s tray to the table. He was on his phone, typing, but looked up, smiled, and put it away as she walked to him.
“Business on Saturday?”
He rose, taking the tray from her hand, careful of the orange juice.
“Yeah. You haven’t had any luck scheduling Spencer, and neither have I. He’d be the one that could pay the most and the one that would do the best, I think. But he has some hang-ups I haven’t been able to work through.”
“Oh?”
He held her chair for her as she sat. When was the last time anyone had done that? It was old-fashioned, she supposed, but it made her feel cared for all the same.
“Like what?” she prompted when he didn’t continue.
“I don’t know if you’ve run into this in the work that you’ve been doing, but ever since I started being a big player in the IT scene, there’s been a bit of a bounty on my head.”
“For pictures?” She’d seen it online.
“Yes.”
“And?” She finally picked up the fork she’d dropped when he first walked in. It was hard to believe that Ford was actually sitting at the table, eating with her.
“Spencer has it in his head that I could help the cancer charity he started after his sister died of a brain tumor by coming to his annual charity auction. He wants me to auction off the right to a picture.”
“That seems a little...crass.”
“He’s using it as a bargaining point. He actually has two of the other guys on my list talked into insisting they meet with me in person to discuss my prototype.” He poured syrup over the cream cheese he’d spread on his waffle.
“Versus the video meeting you wanted.”
“That’s right. With the video, I control lighting and what people see.”
Their eyes met. “I figured that’s why you did it that way.”
“It’s worked every time for me. Spencer’s making things difficult this time.” He took a bite of his waffles. Something in his expression told her he was thinking there might be another way, but he didn’t seem inclined to discuss it with her.
“We have two of the seven scheduled for a videoconference. Two more that are willing.”
“Right. And the three we don’t have are the ones with the deepest pockets.”
“I see.”
“But let’s not worry about that today.”
She remembered what she’d promised to do in the kitchen. “Did you talk to Mrs. T?”
“She texted that she was leaving and that you were cleaning up and would feed me dinner and supper, since Mrs. T is in perpetual concern that I might starve to death if someone is not constantly at my elbow begging me to eat.”
Morgan laughed. “Someone’s been trying to fatten me up.”
“I overheard you tell Lolli that you lost five pounds. I couldn’t figure out from where.” He scraped his plate. “These were really good.”
She thought back. “That was last week.”
“Yeah.”
She put the last bite of the waffle in her mouth. “I never thought to put syrup on the cream cheese. That made it even better.”
“Yep. I took your eccentricity and improved upon it.”
They laughed together.
Talking about Lolli made her realize that the little dog hadn’t come in with him. “Where is Lolli? I haven’t seen her all morning, and she’s usually around. I think Mrs. T gives her scraps or something.”
“She needs to go on a diet, that’s for sure.” His eye widened, and he said quickly, “Lolli. Not Mrs. T.”
Morgan laughed again.
His face became serious. “You’re right. I haven’t seen her.”
She started gathering the plates, and he stood to help her. Concern curled in her stomach. Lolli hadn’t missed breakfast since Morgan had come.
As though Ford could feel something was wrong, too, he held the kitchen door for her and said, “Let’s just set these plates down and then go see if Lolli got shut in a room somewhere by accident.”
Morgan was all in for that. Mrs. T had left the kitchen in pristine shape. The only thing that needed to be done were the dishes they held in their hands.
“I told her I’d take the groceries to Elaine Anderson.”
Ford gave her a considering glance. His finger slid over the edge of the counter, and he said slowly, “Maybe I can go with you?”
Her lips tilted up. “I’d love that.”
“It’s a plan, then. After the dishes are done, and after we find Lolli.”
She searched in her bedroom, and Ford searched his, but they met at the top of the stairs, both empty-handed.
“Nothing?” she asked anyway, just because the concern that had swirled in her stomach was attempting to become full-on panic, and she was trying to shove it down.
“No. None of the other doors up here were open, but I still ran up to the observation deck, and she wasn’t there either.” He put a hand on her shoulder. “We’ll find her.”
She bit her lip and nodded. “The last time I saw her was last night when...” Their eyes met. The words she didn’t say—“you kissed me”—hovered in the air between them. Concern for Lolli was still present, but there was a definite edge to it now, with the memory of their passionate embrace.
His fingers slid down her arm, and he took her hand. “Let’s check the downstairs.”
“Meow.” Jack sat at the bottom of the steps.
“That’s weird,” Ford said.
Morgan nodded. She’d never seen Jack out in the open like that. Sometimes he’d sit on her legs, but usually he skittered from one place to another in his awkward, unbalanced gait.
“Come on.” Ford tugged at her hand, and they rushed down the stairs together.
His fingers were longer than hers, and it struck her how easily he made her feel feminine and soft. Being taller than everyone she knew gave her an edge at times, like with modeling or in physical situations, but it also gave her more than one moment of the elephant in the china closet feeling. Not to mention she towered over almost everyone she knew. Ford made her feel womanly and even petite, despite her size twelve shoe and six-one height.
It was easier to think about Ford and how he made her feel than it was to face the burgeoning conviction that something was very wrong with Lolli. Jack had disappeared in the living room. After a cursory glance, they searched the other downstairs rooms, the library, and the kitchen, and then they tore the solarium apart.
They went outside the front and back doors and even walked to the barn where the horses were all in their stalls, happily munching hay.
Still holding hands, they walked back into the house. “I don’t think Mrs. T lets Lolli downstairs in their apartment, and I hate to go there without their permission,” Ford said as they stood in the soaring foyer.
“Meow.” Jack sat in the doorway to the formal living room. “Meow.”
Ford looked down at her. Their eyes met, then, as one, they hurried to the formal living room. The leather furniture was grouped around a large fireplace with a low coffee table in the middle. The black grand piano took up the entire far corner of the room with the bass fiddle and the trombone beside it. Two recliners with a small table between them faced inward.
Nothing moved.
Morgan walked forward, bending down to her hands and knees to look under the couch. Even feeling between the cushions of that and the loveseat and the chair. Ford did the same with the recliners.
“Wait,” he said suddenly. “Listen.”
She turned to face him, absently noting the awkward way he was kneeling with one knee on the ground and his other leg sticking straight out behind him. She’d forgotten that he’d lost a leg. Of course, his gait was just a little off, but she’d quit noticing. Just as she’d quickly gotten used to his face and missing ear.
His head was cocked, and he had an intent look on his face, but his eye slipped to hers, and he caught her looking at his leg.
He twisted and sat down on his butt, good leg drawn up, his arm hooked around it. “You need to see that, too?”
“I didn’t need to see any of it. I’d honestly totally forgotten that you’d lost a leg too. Your position just reminded me. It’s so unimportant as to be something I don’t even remember about.”
His lip pulled back, and he reached down, pulling up the leg of his jeans.
She crawled over to him and put a hand on his, stilling his movements. “Ford?”
“Yeah?” he said without looking at her.
“I put up with your bull this morning, that whole ‘I don’t want a girlfriend living here,’ ‘I don’t want to kiss you,’ and ‘let’s just be friends’ trash and all that. I don’t have to sit here and watch this, though. I don’t care what it looks like. It doesn’t change anything for me.” She dropped her hand and sat back on her haunches, even though what she really wanted to do was move forward. “I’ve been with a lot of men who only liked me because of the way I look. Or because of my potential earnings and social power as a supermodel. I don’t want to be with someone who’s only with me because of the superficial things they gain.”
His eye widened. “That’s not...I never...I love the way you look. You can stop my heart with your beauty. But that isn’t why I lo...I’m interested in you. That actually makes it worse!” His jaw jutted out, and frustration oozed out of every pore.
“Listen!” he said.
She closed her mouth. A soft little whimper tiptoed through the silence.
“I can’t tell where it’s coming from,” Ford said, tilting his head.
Morgan’s brows drew down, and she stood slowly. “It sounds like from the...piano?”
She looked down at Ford in confusion. He started to get up, and she held out her hand. He stared at it a moment before he took it, meeting her eye as she helped him stand.
“We’re talking about this later,” she promised to his frown. She walked over to the piano. There was nothing under it. Nothing under the bench that sat in front of it. Nothing around it.
“She’s in here.” Ford stood beside the propped lid. “Holy smokes,” he said softly. “They’re in here.”
Morgan hurried around the end of the piano until she stood beside Ford. “Oh, wow.”
Lolli lay on her side, looking up at them from the back corner of the piano, in the small space where the strings ended. Six little wobbly heads stuck up from chubby little bodies in front of her.
“I counted six.”
“Me too,” Ford said softly.
“Guess she doesn’t need to go on a diet.”
“No. Maybe we should actually increase her feed a little. That looks like a lot of puppies to take care of.” Ford shoved his hands in his pockets.
“She looks calm.”
“Exhausted.”
“Yeah. She’s been busy since last night.”
“I feel like I should find the dog that did this to her and deal with him.”
Morgan snorted. “Someone should have gotten their dog fixed.”
Ford shrugged, pulling his hands out of his pockets and holding them up. “I never thought of it. The medical center fixed her up, and I’ve taken her to the vet clinic that’s set up now in Sweet Water, but just for shots. I guess I assumed she was fixed.”
She patted his arm. “I guess this makes you a grandfather.”
He choked, then a real laugh erupted. Not long, but enough that she patted herself on the back a bit.
“I don’t think I’m ready for that responsibility yet.” He looked like he might say something more, but he closed his mouth and looked back at Lolli and her litter of puppies. “I don’t think we should leave them in the piano.”
“No, I think you’re right.” The piano might be ruined; she wasn’t sure. “I don’t think the puppies can get out now, but eventually...”
“Yeah. That’s what I was thinking. Although I suppose they could wiggle and get caught somewhere.”
“Where are you thinking you’d want them?”
“How about the solarium?”
She nodded. “I was thinking the same thing.”
They found a box on the back porch, stealing it from Elaine’s groceries, and fitted it with a few soft rags. Ford held it while Morgan carefully lifted the tiny pups from the piano and placed them in their new home. Lolli came last.
“Do you want to set her in the solarium? I’m going to get a rag and see if I can clean this up a little.” She tilted her head at him. “Do you play?”
His teeth flashed. “No. Georgia does.”
“Oh. Well, you might have to get a professional in, but I’ll do the best I can.” She shook her head. “I can’t believe the dog had puppies in the piano.” But she was glad it had. Ford seemed to have totally forgotten about his uncomfortableness.
Chapter 11
Ford settled Lolli, and Morgan cleaned the piano. He was grateful that Morgan had been there. He could have handled Lolli and her puppies by himself, but it was nicer to have her with him. She seemed to be taking his messed-up face just fine, almost like it didn’t bother her, which shocked him, since it sure bothered him, although for a while there when they’d found the puppies, he’d kind of forgotten about it.
He’d not quite gotten used to it yet. This intelligent and kind supermodel who looked at him like he was handsome and whole.
Part of him thought the punchline was coming.
They met back in the kitchen where the dishes from breakfast still waited.
“I can get these, if you don’t mind waiting,” he said. “I don’t think there’s enough to mess with the dishwasher.”
“You wash, I’ll dry.” Her smile was wide and spread across her face like a ray of sunshine.
It was the kind of smile that a person had to return.
Running hot water into the sink, he squirted some dish soap into it.
He figured he’d smiled more today than he had in years. Which was odd considering he should be more self-conscious of his face today. He was, but not in a stifling way, just in the way that he couldn’t believe he was uncovered in front of her.
Morgan turned to grab a dish towel out of the drawer. Ford scooped a handful of bubbles out of the sink and blew them at her when she turned around, careful to avoid her eyes.
She squealed.
“You’re like a two-year-old!” She laughed, dusting the bubbles off with her towel before throwing it over her shoulder.
He grinned and handed her a clean plate. She took it in one hand, reaching into his water with the other and splashing a bit on him.
“Ha! Now we’re even.”
He wiped water off his nose.
“Not smart,” he said, wiggling his eyebrow. He washed the other plate and handed it to her. While her head was down, he turned the water on cold and grabbed the sprayer, hitting her square in the chest with a stream of what he expected was very cold water.
She screamed, setting the plate on the counter and lifting the towel over her head.
He shut the water off, hoping he hadn’t pushed her too far. He’d always been more competitive than was good for him. Maybe that was part of the reason losing his looks, and any chance he had of being a professional hockey player like his brother, had been so hard. He’d lost. He hated losing.
But she was laughing. Pulling the towel down, she snapped him with it. She was good, too, because it bit into his thigh with a sharp pinch.
He needed the distraction. Her wet shirt was stuck to her chest.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get you that wet.” His eye landed on a drop of water on her cheek.
“It’s okay. I started the splashing.” She grinned. “But you’re going to finish by yourself, because I have to go change.”
He nodded, trying to remember that they’d decided to just be friends. That hadn’t been exactly what he’d been saying earlier, but it had been what she’d assumed, and it was for the best. For now, anyway. There was no way he’d be ab
le to be just friends with Morgan, though.
He hadn’t been going to argue about it today.
His hand came up. “You have water...” His voice trailed off as the fingers of his deformed right hand brushed the droplet off her cheek. Her skin, smooth and soft, sent a sharp current up his arm.
Her sigh floated in the air around him, mixing with her scent and laughter. How was he supposed to resist her? How could he?
“Morgan,” he breathed, stepping closer.
Her eyes widened, like she hadn’t been expecting him to move into her space, but she didn’t back away. She moved, stepping into the circle of his arms. He pulled her tight, her wet shirt against his chest, and she shivered.
“You’re cold,” he stated, concerned.
She shook her head. Her arms slid up his chest, over his shoulders, and around his neck. The same liquid fire that had burned through his veins before ran faster and hotter. It wasn’t something he could control, and to be frank, it scared him. Not for his sake, but for what he might do to her if he didn’t keep himself carefully reined in. He also didn’t want to put her in any awkward positions since she was working in his home. He was her boss.
Her face was uplifted, her eyes half-closed. She pressed against him, and his whole body roared, longing to pull her closer. His breath came in ragged gulps, and his heart ran toward her.
Her lips were so close. Everything he wanted just a hair’s breath away.
He fisted his hands and stepped back, swallowing then blowing out a long breath.
Her face showed disappointment and confusion. But it was the flash of pain that seared his soul.
He turned away, unable to watch.
Her heels clicked on the floor as she walked out of the kitchen.
The dishes were done, and he had a towel in hand, wiping up the last of the water that had dripped on the floor, when she came back into the kitchen. She wore a soft-looking, loose sweater and a pair of worn jeans. Her hair was loose around her shoulders, and there wasn’t a trace of any emotion on her face.
He hated that.
“Are you ready?” she asked in a tone that wasn’t quite flat but wasn’t as friendly as what they’d had before he’d ruined it.
Cowboys Don't Marry the Beauty Page 13
