“You went into something knowing it was doomed?”
“Crazy, isn’t it?”
“No, Nate. I don’t think you were crazy.”
“What do you think I was?”
“You were in love,” Morgan whispered. “And love can make you do crazy things.”
The sweep of the Sequoia’s headlights lit up the club’s parking lot when Nate pulled into an empty space and shut off the engine. Resting his right arm over the back of Morgan’s seat, he unbuckled his belt and then shifted to face her. “Were you ever afflicted with the love crazies?”
Releasing her seat belt, she turned to give him a direct stare. “Twice. I didn’t learn the first time, so I was doomed to repeat it.”
His eyes met hers in the dim light. “Were the men from Cavanaugh Island?”
“No. Why?”
“I thought they would’ve been, since you claim you’d never marry a man who grew up here.”
Affecting a wry smile, Morgan shrugged her shoulders.
Cradling the back of her head, Nate pressed his mouth to her ear. “Do you want to tell me about it?”
“It’s a long story.”
“And we have all night.”
Her eyelids fluttered. “You’re right. I think we’d better go in, because Jesse is holding a table for us.”
Jesse was standing near the door when Morgan and Nate entered the club. He pulled her close, kissing her cheek. “I guess it’s true,” he whispered.
Morgan went stiff as she stared at her cousin, who was built like a football linebacker. In fact he did play college football, and had been drafted by the NFL, but quit after his first season to care for his younger brother and sister after their parents were killed by a drunk driver. Jesse married a girl from the Landing, was now the father of two boys, and had opened the Happy Hour with his brother-in-law.
“What is?” she whispered back.
“You hooking up with Shaw.”
She wasn’t given the opportunity to reply before her cousin released her to slap Nate’s hand before pounding his back. “Hey, man. It’s good seeing you out and about,” Jesse said.
Nate gave him a sheepish grin. “I have to admit I was going a little stir-crazy spending so much time alone.” He curved an arm around Morgan’s waist, pulling her close to his side. “If it wasn’t for Mo, I’d still be living a monkish existence.”
Morgan went completely still when he said “monkish,” hoping and praying that Jesse wouldn’t misinterpret the word to mean “celibate”—and therefore that she and Nate, having abandoned his monkish ways, were sleeping together.
Nate reached into the pocket of his slacks, taking out a money clip, but Jesse shook his head. “There’s no cover charge for family.”
“Did you save us a table?” she asked her cousin.
“Yes.” He beckoned the hostess. “Please show my cousin and her boyfriend to their table.”
She opened her mouth to tell Jesse that Nate wasn’t her boyfriend, but the words died on her tongue when Nate squeezed her hand. “Let it go, baby,” he said in her ear.
“How did you know what I was going to say?”
“I told you before that your eyes give you away. People are going to draw their own conclusions because we’re together. I really don’t care and neither should you. We’re both consenting adults, so let’s enjoy each other.”
Morgan knew he was right, but that didn’t explain the internal conflict that had her nerves on edge. She wished she could be as indifferent to the situation as Nate was. He wanted friendship, while she wanted more. The problem was Morgan was uncertain what the “more” was. She knew that sleeping with Nate would be disastrous. It would be the same as her first relationship. Even after she and her boyfriend had split, she continued to see him every day because they took many of the same classes together.
“This place is nice,” he said as they followed the hostess to a table in a corner that provided a modicum of privacy while permitting them to view the stage, where a quintet played a soft, bluesy piece. He pulled out a chair for Morgan, then sat opposite her.
She glanced around the dimly lit club. The U-shaped bar was the Happy Hour’s centerpiece, and its mirrored walls made everything appear bigger. Tables with seating for two, four, and six were positioned closely together to maximize the club’s capacity. It was after eight and the place was only half filled, but by the time the waiter took their drink orders several large groups of patrons had arrived. The waitstaff, who wore white shirts with black ties, armbands, slacks, and shoes, was polite and efficient.
Morgan stared across the table at Nate. He was dressed entirely in black, reminding her of New York City, where everyone seemed to favor that dramatic color. The glow from the candle on the table threw long and short shadows over his clean-shaven jaw. The gold from the flame was reflected in his golden orbs, which stared openly at her.
“Are you glad you came?” she asked, smiling.
Nate returned her smile, his gaze fixed on her parted lips. “I’ll let you know later.”
“I have to assume it’s a little different from the L.A. clubs.”
“It’s a lot different.”
“How?”
Lacing his fingers together, he leaned back in his chair. “Folks here seem to come to have a good time, while I found those in L.A. usually go to be seen.”
Morgan placed her hand over his. “How often did you visit the clubs?”
Nate reversed their hands, tightening his hold when she attempted to pull away. “Too many times to keep count. Kim loved clubbing.”
“When we read that you were engaged to Kimberly Mason, it was headline news. Most of us in the Creek were preening because you were one of ours. Miss Odessa couldn’t stop bragging that her stepson was marrying a world-famous supermodel. After a while folks got a little tired of her talking about what she planned to wear to the wedding.”
Nate released her hand and pressed a fist to his mouth. “Would you believe she changed twice during the reception?”
Morgan’s eyes grew wider. “No!”
Struggling not to laugh, Nate nodded. “Odessa had a captive audience, so she intended to make the best of it.”
“What about your father?”
Sobering, he glanced over her shoulder. “My dad knew I was making a mistake, and he tried being diplomatic when he said, ‘If you ever get tired of this circus, remember you can always come home.’”
“It was that bad, huh?” Morgan’s voice was soft, coaxing.
“It had become a nightmare,” he said after a pregnant silence. “The first two years of my marriage were a continuous round of photo shoots, fashion shows, parties, red-carpet appearances, and exotic vacations.”
“Weren’t you working with a developer?”
“The housing market was just beginning to slow down, so I decided to take a break and support Kim. Traveling with her gave me an opportunity to visit places I’d only read about. It also exposed me to people and places I probably would’ve never experienced if I’d stayed in the Creek. But after a while it truly had become a circus. There were nonstop parties with enough booze and drugs to get every inhabitant of a small country high for at least a month.”
Morgan stared without blinking. “Did you get into drugs?”
“Never. My dad told me about soldiers who went to Vietnam and got hooked on drugs. Many of his close friends died from drug overdoses. He preached to me day and night that if I ever got caught up with drugs—and that included selling them—he would beat the hell outta me. My father didn’t believe in hitting his kids, but there was something in his voice that said he wasn’t issuing an idle threat.
“I must have had my head in the sand, because it was a long time before I realized Kim was snorting and freebasing coke. She claimed it suppressed her appetite, and the only way she could continue working was if she didn’t gain weight.”
This revelation shocked Morgan. She’d read about the supermodel’s infidelity, but not he
r substance abuse. “What did you do?”
“There wasn’t much I could do. I told her to get clean or we were through. She checked into a private rehab near the Santa Ana Mountains, but left after two weeks, declaring she’d kicked the habit by going cold turkey.”
“Had she?”
“I didn’t follow her twenty-four seven, but it appeared she was telling the truth. Her publicist told the media she’d checked into the posh center because of exhaustion. Everyone seemed to believe it because she was so frightfully thin. I managed to get her to put on some weight, and her agent signed her up for several modeling gigs overseas. This time she didn’t want me to go with her. Kim’s manager promised me he would look after her. I got a job building movie sets to keep from going stir-crazy. We’d celebrated our third anniversary when I told Kim I was ready to start a family. She asked that we wait a year because she had been selected as the spokesperson for a major cosmetics company and it would entail some traveling.
“I agreed to wait the year, but then the news broke that she’d been sleeping with her manager. When I finally got to confront her she didn’t lie about it. In fact, she admitted that she’d been sleeping with him before we met, during our engagement, and, of course, after we were married. But he wasn’t the only one. It was as if all the venom poured out when she revealed she never wanted children.”
“Had you told her you wanted children?”
Nate nodded. “Yes.”
“Would you have married her if she’d told you she didn’t want kids?”
“No. First marriage and then children is what I consider a normal progression.”
“I’m sorry it didn’t work out for you.”
“I’m not sorry, Mo.” His eyes seemed to pin her to her seat. “It’s my past and something I don’t intend to repeat.”
Morgan hadn’t realized she’d been holding her breath. “You can’t be turned off by all women because of one bad one.”
A flash of white shone in his face when he smiled. “Trust me. I’m not turned off by women. I just don’t plan to marry again.”
The voice in Morgan’s head told her to let it go, but she ignored it, saying, “Don’t you think you’re being unfair? You may meet someone who might become the perfect wife and mother for your children. Are you willing to forfeit personal happiness because of one selfish woman?”
Nate’s smile didn’t falter when he said, “Are you angling for the position?”
Heat stung her cheeks. “Of course not! I told you before that at this time in my life I wouldn’t be able to balance marriage and a career.”
He leaned closer. “What about two or three years from now? Do you think you would change your mind?”
Morgan thought of her wish list. There was nothing on it that pertained to marriage and children. Still, she said, “I probably will.”
“It’s something…” Nate’s words trailed off when the waiter set coasters on the table, then their drinks. Reaching into his pocket, Nate tipped the man, who surreptitiously pocketed the bill.
The waiter smiled. “Thank you. Would you like to order from the menu or would you prefer the buffet?”
Nate winked at Morgan when she mouthed, ”Buffet.”
“We’ll have the buffet,” he said to the waiter. As soon as the man walked away, Nate suggested, “Why don’t you go first while I wait here?”
Leaving her tiny purse on the table, Morgan got up and joined those who’d lined up near the tables groaning with trays of hot and cold food. A voice came from behind her. “What brings you out, Mo?”
Turning, she smiled at someone she hadn’t seen in a long time. “Hey, you,” she said to a man who’d gone to school with her. Dylan Hoyt had left the Creek after graduation and joined the army.
The skin around Dylan’s dark blue eyes crinkled when he smiled. “Don’t you think I deserve more than a ‘Hey, you’ after all these years?” He extended his arms and Morgan moved into his embrace. Hugging her tightly, he landed a kiss close to her mouth. “Now, that’s better. How have you been?”
The four-inch heels she was wearing put her head level with his. “I’m good. How about you?”
“I’m home on an extended medical leave. I got shot during an ambush in Afghanistan. I spent a couple of months in a military hospital in Germany before they sent me back here. My mom’s been bugging me to go out on a medical discharge, but I love the military.”
She stared at the dirty-blond stubble on his cheeks, through which she detected tiny scars. “It’s not easy to please everyone when you feel you have to follow your passion.”
“That’s what I’ve been telling her. She claims I need to stay in one place, settle down and get married, and of course give her some grandbabies.”
Morgan smiled. “That’s sounds familiar.” Even though her parents were grandparents of four and were expecting their fifth, they’d professed to want at least ten. “How often do you come here?”
“This is my first time since I’ve been back. I ran into Jesse, who told me he welcomes all active military. We get to eat free, which includes two drinks.” A flush darkened his face. “That’s an offer I’d be a fool to refuse.”
“You have to know how patriotic everyone on Cavanaugh Island is. Practically every home on the island flies an American flag.” She always put up her flag on Memorial Day, the Fourth of July, and Veterans Day.
Dylan nodded. “I would’ve been back in time for the Memorial Day weekend reenactments if my paperwork hadn’t been held up.”
“Are you here alone?”
“No. Robyn’s here with me.”
Morgan glanced around to see if she could spot the Charleston native Dylan had dated off and on for years. As she moved along the line Morgan was greeted by several other Creek and Cove residents who congratulated her on her new venture. She finally picked up a plate and flatware, filling the plate with an assortment of salad greens and hot and cold hors d’oeuvres. Nate had drunk half his beer by the time she returned to the table.
Rising to his feet, he stared at her plate. “Everything looks delicious.”
She smiled. “It is. The chef is awesome.”
“I’ll be back,” Nate drawled in a spot-on Arnold Schwarzenegger imitation.
Chapter Eight
Morgan slapped at Nate’s hand when he attempted to spear a piece of calamari from her plate, but she wasn’t fast enough. He popped the morsel into his mouth. “Go get your own,” she said.
“There wasn’t any left when I got there. Where are you going?” Nate asked, rising with her as she pushed back her chair.
“I’m going to tell Jesse to have the kitchen staff put out some more.”
“Sit down, Mo. Please.” He exhaled when she complied. “I’ll make certain to get some the next time we come.”
Morgan gave him a long stare. “You want to do this again?”
“Of course. Good music, delicious food, and a beautiful date. That makes for an awesome trifecta.”
Propping her elbow on the table, Morgan supported her chin on the heel of her hand. “What happened to your ‘Please come with me one time as a friend’?”
“Do you remember everything I say?” he asked.
“Just about.”
“Don’t tell me you have a photographic memory.”
“Just about,” she repeated. Pressing his fist to his mouth, Nate smothered a curse. “I heard that, Nate,” Morgan drawled.
“Must I monitor everything that comes out of my mouth whenever I’m around you?”
“Of course not. The only thing you have to remember is not to say something you don’t actually mean.”
Crossing his arms over his chest, Nate angled his head. His initial reluctance about going to a club vanished within seconds of walking into the Happy Hour. There were similarities and distinct differences between it and the clubs he’d visited in the past. In other clubs, it hadn’t mattered whether the music was rap, pop, or techno, it was always loud. The music at the Happy Hour was lo
ud, but not so loud that he couldn’t hear what Morgan was saying. Here, the clubbers were mostly college students and professionals in their twenties and thirties looking to unwind at the end of the week.
The food, music, and camaraderie all paled in comparison once he thought about the woman who’d accompanied him. Her beauty and intelligence aside, Nate found Morgan outspoken and unpretentious. He hadn’t been able to take his eyes off her when she’d stood in the buffet line, but he’d experienced unease when she hugged Dylan Hoyt.
He didn’t want to think of it as jealousy, because that emotion had never been a part of his personality. It hadn’t bothered him when Kim wore next to nothing on the runway, because it was a part of her profession. Not only was she selling the garment, she was also selling her body. He’d lost count of the number of times she’d reminded him that her body was a hanger from which to display a designer’s garment. He also accepted the fact that men gawked at her, but only because there was little he could do about it. Nate believed he knew who his ex-wife was when he married her. Once she disclosed the number of men she’d slept with, though, what she’d become rocked him to the core.
He shook his head, as if to banish all thoughts of Kim. What he didn’t want to do was think about his ex. Thinking and talking about her was like reopening a wound that had healed. Nate stood and rounded the table, offering Morgan his hand. “May I have this dance?” The band was playing one of his favorite songs.
Morgan rose gracefully to her feet, looping the strap of her purse over her body. “Yoo-hoo! Na-than-iel. I’m coming, baby!” she said teasingly as he led her out to the dance floor and eased her into a close embrace.
Pulling her even closer, he fastened his mouth to the column of her neck. “Why did you have to bring that up?”
She giggled. “Don’t forget you still owe Trina a dance.”
He swung her around and around. “That’s not going to happen, because she believes I’m your man.”
“The truth is you’re not my man.”
“What if I were, Mo?”
Easing back, she met his eyes. “What are you talking about?”
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