Feeling a little emotionally and physically spent, Kate took a seat at the table.
“I don’t know what we would have done if you hadn’t stepped in at the last minute, taking William’s place,” she told him, her blue eyes sparkling. William Allen was to have been one of Travis’s ushers, but according to Travis, he’d called last night to say that he’d tripped over his enthusiastic Great Dane and broken his arm. With profuse apologies, William had dropped out of the wedding party.
Morgan looked at Kelsey’s mother. The half smile on his lips grew a tad larger. They both knew it was more of a matter of being “pushed” in than “stepping” in. For reasons that made no sense to Morgan, William’s withdrawal had created a huge problem. Before he knew it, Kelsey asked if he minded taking William’s place. Stunned, he’d said that yes, he did mind. Moreover, he had no desire to march down an aisle with a church full of strangers watching him.
He remembered Kelsey smiling indulgently at him. “No offense, Morgan, you are really good-looking and all, but that church full of people will be watching Shana. A couple of them might be watching Travis,” she allowed, “but it’s the bride who’s the star at a wedding, not a groomsman. Still,” she’d continued, “you do have the right to turn my mother down.”
“Your mother?” Even as he spoke, he’d felt the trap closing around him. “I thought that I was turning you down.”
“It’s a package deal,” she’d informed him. “And if you don’t take William’s place, I’m going to have to drop out of the wedding, too.”
He’d tried to understand what one thing had to do with the other but failed. “Why?”
“We’re short one groomsman,” she’d reminded him.
“So?”
“So,” she’d elaborated, “Shana’s a little superstitious about odd numbers.”
Definitely a trap closing around him, he’d thought. But he wasn’t about to agree to this without making Kelsey work for it. “Let me get this straight—if I say no, you don’t get to be in it, either?”
She’d taken a breath and then released it in a heartfelt sigh. All that was missing, he remembered thinking, were violins. “You got it.”
He debated making her twist a little longer, then decided there was no point to it. “All right, I’ll do it,” he’d agreed, then asked, “Does anyone ever get to win an argument with you?”
Kelsey had looked at him, the picture of wide-eyed innocence. “Happens all the time.”
Good as she was at keeping a straight face, he hadn’t believed it for a moment. “Let me know the next time it happens.”
She’d laughed then and promised, “You’ll be the first one to know,” just before she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him to express her gratitude.
That had set the tempo for the rest of the evening.
As it turned out, Morgan was the same size as the former groomsman, so getting a tuxedo at the last minute hadn’t posed a problem. Not that he’d actually figured it would. Somehow, between Kelsey and her mother, he had a feeling that they probably would have conjured one up if the present tux hadn’t fit.
When it came right down to it, witchcraft was the only way to explain how he’d actually allowed himself to be roped into taking William’s place. Not only roped into doing it—and this was the real kicker—but not minding it.
When it came right down to it, Morgan had no idea that witches came in size 4 or that they had hair that captured the rays of the sun and shone like spun gold in the late-afternoon sun.
In response to what Kate was saying to him, he shrugged again. “Kelsey would have roped someone else into taking that guy’s place if I had turned her down.”
“But you didn’t turn her down,” Kate pointed out. “And you made life a lot easier for all of us by saying yes.”
As a policeman, he’d trained himself to pick up nuances in a person’s voice, and something in Kate’s made him think she was leaving a lot more unsaid than said. His curiosity was aroused, but asking for an explanation would only get him further entrenched in a family affair. And although they acted like it, this wasn’t his family. There was no sense in allowing himself to pretend—even for a moment.
He was an outsider and he always would be.
“Ah, there she is,” Kate announced, looking past his shoulder.
He turned to see Kelsey weaving around the small tables, making her way to them. To him. If he’d been given to believing in fairy tales, she looked like one of the princesses so easily found in those stories. Except that, no matter what she said to the contrary, he had a strong feeling that Kelsey was not the type who would ever need rescuing.
But the prince might.
Kate rose the moment her daughter reached the table. “Does Trevor need any help in the kitchen?” she asked.
Kelsey shook her head. “He’s got everything under control. He even asked Emilio to come in and take over so that he could enjoy Travis’s wedding.” Turning to Morgan, she said, “Emilio used to be Trevor’s assistant chef until Trevor staked him to a restaurant of his own,” she explained for his benefit. “It was hard on him, losing Emilio, but he knew that Emilio would never have enough nerve—or money—to go off on his own unless he pushed him out of ‘the nest.’”
Morgan had learned, at an early age, that life was hard and you had to take care of yourself because no one else would. He’d never thought that people like the Marlowes, people who went out of their way for others, actually existed.
“I need to say hello to Emilio,” Kate said to him, excusing herself.
“Brace yourself,” Kelsey called after her mother. “He’s grown a beard.” When she turned back to Morgan, she found him studying her. “What?”
“Are all you people do-gooders?” he asked.
Kelsey sat down at the table and took a sip from her wineglass. “What do you mean?”
He recounted just a few of the things he’d learned about the Marlowes since he’d met them. “That story about Trevor helping his assistant get his own restaurant, your father and Travis taking on cases pro bono, your mother and Trent treating patients for free if they couldn’t afford to pay for sessions. Mike and Miranda setting up a foundation in her father’s name to send inner-city kids to baseball games in the summer—”
She smiled, stopping him. “It’s called giving back, Morgan. My family and I feel that we’ve been very lucky in our lives and we just want to share a little of our good fortune.”
It occurred to him that she’d never said anything about her “extracurricular” activities. He knew she had to have some. “How do you ‘share’?”
He could feel the warmth radiating from her as she smiled at him. “You mean other than finding lost souls and trying to reintegrate them into society?”
She obviously was referring to him. With a dismissive wave of his hand, he said, “Yes, other than that.”
“I volunteer at a free clinic, helping kids with speech impediments and other problems.” For a moment, her expression grew serious. “It takes so little to destroy a kid’s self-esteem. I try to help them get it back.” Suddenly, she stopped talking and turned to face the band her father had hired. She lit up like a Christmas tree right in front of him. “Oh, they’re playing a song.”
Morgan looked over his shoulder at the five men, one woman off to the side where a dance floor had been designated.
“They’re a band.” He pointed out. “They’re supposed to be playing a song.”
Kelsey was on her feet again, and he had a feeling he knew what was coming. Or, at least what she was going to ask. No way was he going to comply. Being part of the wedding party just involved walking a straight line. Dancing and making a fool of himself in public—and in front of her—was a completely different matter.
Kelsey wove her fingers through his and gave him what was easily a thousand-watt smile as she tugged on his hand. “Dance with me.”
It wasn’t a request, but it wasn’t a demand, either, so he couldn’t get ann
oyed. But neither did he move.
“I don’t dance,” he told her, remaining exactly where he was.
He could see by the light that came into Kelsey’s eyes that she wasn’t about to give up. “You can stand, can’t you?”
He couldn’t very well deny that. “Yeah,” he answered warily.
“And you can sway, right? Just a little, like this,” she illustrated by swaying her hips ever so slowly to the band’s tempo. It was just enough to make his throat tighten.
“That’s not dancing, that’s being seductive,” he told her.
Kelsey grinned as she tugged on his hand again, this time with a little more verve. “Potato, po-tah-to. The object is to have fun.”
“I can have all the fun I can handle sitting down.” To his surprise, for once, Kelsey said nothing. She just continued looking at him. After a minute, Morgan found himself capitulating. “Oh, all right, I’ll stand up and sway.”
The sound of her laughter, filled with delight and yet sexy as all hell, filled his head. “That’s all I ask, Morgan.”
“No, you’re asking for a hell of a lot more than that and you know it,” he told her.
And while she asked, she also eroded the ground that was beneath his feet, the foundation he’d put down when he’d finally, painstakingly, pulled his life back together. She was doing it one chipped piece at a time, but she was definitely doing it.
He knew he could stop dead, plant his feet on the floor and just stop moving. Stick of dynamite or not, she wasn’t stronger than he was. But he didn’t hold his ground. He allowed her to lead him to the dance floor, silently calling himself an idiot.
Reaching her destination, Kelsey turned around, slipped her hands into his and lightly pressed her body against him.
Just enough to fan the flames that were already burning.
Kelsey turned her face up to his, the picture of innocence again. If innocence had a wicked glint in its eyes.
“See?” she asked. “This isn’t so bad now, is it, Morgan?”
Bad? Yes, it was bad. Bad because it was damn near perfect—and something he could get accustomed to so very easily. He knew if he allowed that to happen, it would be a really bad thing because it meant that he would be in a vulnerable position. Again.
He knew that and yet, he couldn’t make himself just walk away. Not yet.
“It’s torture,” he told her darkly, “but I guess I’ll put up with it for now.”
She smiled at him, her eyes lighting up and their warmth touching him in all the spots he’d long since thought were dead, or at least incapable of feeling anything.
“Ah, a sense of humor,” she noted, delighted. “Nice to know I’m rubbing off on you a little.”
Morgan laughed shortly and murmured something unintelligible.
The operative word here, he thought, being rubbing. Morgan could feel her body swaying against his, could really feel himself responding even though he didn’t want to. There would be a price to pay for going along with her request, and in his gut he knew that he’d be paying it. Sooner than later.
But all he could think about right now was making love with her again, this even though he’d promised himself that it was never going to happen again.
Some willpower, he silently mocked himself.
It wasn’t that he felt disloyal to his wife or anything nearly that uncomplicated. Mixed in with the urges and passions associated with desire that he felt was fear. A very strong, sinewy ribbon of fear. Fear that he was becoming vulnerable. That he could no longer protect himself.
He’d had his heart ripped out by the roots once when he’d lost Beth and their daughter. He never, ever wanted to be in that kind of position again. Never wanted to number among the walking wounded again, wanting only to die but knowing that he had to go on living, if for no other reason than to keep their memory alive. Because he was the only one left who remembered them.
It had taken a long time for it to stop hurting when he breathed.
And now along came this golden-haired woman with her laughing eyes and her soul-tempting mouth. She was breaking down his walls, was making him think about things that belonged in the life of a normal man, not the shell of a man he had become.
She was making him think about things he shouldn’t yearn for. Because he knew that nothing ever lasted, and neither would she. Today, tomorrow, next week, or maybe even a little longer, but then she’d be gone. He’d be alone again, left to try to cope with an emptiness that hurt like hell.
He couldn’t go through that another time.
“You look very good in a tuxedo,” she said to him when the silence between them got to be too much. “The ‘bad guys’ would never recognize you.”
Damn it, her body swaying against his that way was short-circuiting his brain, making it hard to concentrate, he thought. “Maybe I can use this as a disguise if I ever have to go undercover.”
She laughed again, raising his body temperature several degrees. “It’s a thought.” Kelsey turned her face up to his. “What are you doing after the wedding?” she asked.
How much longer was this song going to go on? he wondered. “Going on with my life.”
“In other words, nothing specific.”
Morgan lifted one shoulder in a vague, noncommittal shrug. She went on looking at him. “Why, what did you have in mind?”
Her smile widened. How she pulled off wicked and innocent at the same time was beyond him, but she did. “I was hoping you’d have something in mind.”
There was no skirting around her meaning. Morgan laughed and shook his head. Kelsey Marlowe was definitely one of a kind, he thought.
“You always been this shy?” he asked, amused.
She nodded solemnly. “It’s a curse, but don’t try to change the subject.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He could feel a quickening in his loins, a longing that was all too familiar in its demand. Unlike the handful of other women who had passed through his life since he’d lost Beth, one taste of Kelsey hadn’t satisfied anything. It had just led him to wanting another. And another. There was no point in pretending otherwise. “Your place or mine?”
“Whichever’s closer,” Kelsey breathed. She moved in closer, doing away with the last bit of space between them.
“Don’t they look good together?” Kate asked.
She was dancing with her husband, but her attention was completely focused on Kelsey and Morgan. She hadn’t taken her eyes off the couple since Kelsey had dragged Morgan out onto the dance floor.
Bryan glanced in his daughter’s direction. “Yes, they do,” he agreed. When he looked back at his wife, something suddenly dawned on him, highlighted in big neon lights. “William Allen didn’t break his arm yesterday, did he?” he asked suspiciously.
Kate didn’t give him a direct answer. “Why would he call to say he did if he didn’t?”
He knew her by now, knew that Kate never lied. She did know how to use words in such a way as to suggest things without actually saying them. She was exceedingly clever, he mused, offering nonanswers in place of actual answers.
“I’m the lawyer here, Kate. I’m the one who’s supposed to twist words around.”
She was the personification of innocence as she asked, “Whatever do you mean, Bryan?”
He bent over to whisper into her ear. “Come clean, Kate.”
Rather than continue the verbal dance, she laughed softly. When Bryan straightened his head, Kate smiled up into his eyes.
“You always could see right through me, couldn’t you?” As they continued dancing, she filled him in on what had really happened. “When I saw William yesterday at the tuxedo rental shop, he looked very unhappy. I managed to get him to tell me what was wrong. He said his wife didn’t want him being part of the wedding party without her. William didn’t want to hurt Travis’s feelings, but he didn’t want to upset his wife and have her complaining for the entire night, either. I just gave him a way out.”
“Out of the altruis
tic goodness of your heart,” Bryan declared with a deadpan expression.
She knew that Bryan saw through her, but there was a comfort in having your spouse know you so well that he could finish your thoughts. She took solace in that closeness. “You know how good my heart is, Bryan.”
“Yes,” he whispered with all sincerity, “I do.”
As he danced, Bryan pressed his hand to the small of her back, thinking how delicate and petite Kate felt against him. He’d almost forgotten that she was pregnant and that all this would soon change. That petite little body he knew so well would be rounded out with their child. Desire, roused by emotion, suddenly filled him.
He found himself looking forward to the night ahead, after the reception was over and Travis and Shana were off on their honeymoon. It was time to recreate a little of their own honeymoon. Most men, after twenty-seven years of marriage, just went through the motions. But he was more in love with his wife than ever. Bryan knew he was one of the lucky ones.
Chapter Thirteen
He was happy.
These past few years, happiness had become such a foreign concept to Morgan that it had taken him almost a month to recognize it. Being with Kelsey, looking forward to seeing her, even to interacting with her family, all of this made him happy. Quietly, subtly, supremely happy.
But recognition and admission inevitably reintroduced the specter of fear.
Against his will, Morgan found himself waiting for the other shoe to drop. For the happiness to abruptly end without warning, like a bomb being thrown at him—the way it had last time—and sending him plummeting back into the dark, lonely world he’d inhabited before his path had crossed Kelsey’s.
All things ended. And this would, too. Most likely when he was least prepared for it.
The best way to handle it would be on his own terms. The only way to be braced for it would be if he just walked away from it while there still was an “it.” That way, he wouldn’t be sucked into an abysmal vortex when happiness was no longer part of his life.
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