The Right Thing

by McDonald, Donna

  Morgan sighed. She had obviously seen and probably thought he was coming on to the younger woman.

  Sighing, he looked at Amy, who was no longer laughing. Amy was cute, but not the kind of female that ever drew Morgan’s eye. He was not into women with agendas that included babies or ambitious careers. Amy was not nearly as appealing to him as the woman who had swung through and moved on just now.

  “Well, that’s a good sign,” Amy said thoughtfully, hands on hips as she stared at the doors where Thea disappeared.

  Morgan looked at the swinging doors and wondered what would happen if he walked through them, chased Althea Carmichael down, and did something to prove how interested in her he was.

  “That freeze-out was a good sign?” Morgan asked, wondering if by the time he was his father’s age he might have a greater understanding of the female mind.

  Thea ignoring him was not a good sign, he thought sarcastically, shaking his head in disbelief.

  Amy nodded yes with enough enthusiasm to have Morgan laughing again despite his frustration.

  “I’ve never seen Thea jealous of anyone—not even Angus. Her daughter used to babysit me. I’ve known her all my life,” Amy informed him.

  “Jealous? Seriously?” Morgan said, looking at the doors again. “You got that from Thea just walking through here and saying hi like I was a stranger she’d never spoken to before?”

  Amy nodded. “That would be my take,” she said easily. “Come back tomorrow and see if I’m right.”

  Morgan laughed sarcastically. “Why would I bother after that?”

  “You really interested or not? Gerald would never give up that easily. Even Doug knew enough to be persistent when I wouldn’t go out with him at first. I was ignoring him because I figured he had enough groupies wanting to date him,” Amy said, shaking her head. “I didn’t want to be just one of a crowd.”

  “Who’s Doug?” Morgan asked, pondering the idea of Thea being interested enough in him to be jealous, which led to pondering how he might convince her, which led to tight jeans for him.

  He had learned more about Thea and the restaurant in this single conversation with Amy than he’d learned in two nights of research. It shouldn’t have surprised him. He investigated people for a living.

  But finding out about Althea Carmichael was different than just normal research. Or at least it felt different. Probably because he was genuinely interested in the woman, Morgan conceded.

  Admitting it had him looking at the swinging doors again with new eyes.

  “I’m sorry—who’s Doug?” he asked again, thinking he might not have spoke the question aloud the first time.

  “Doug? Well, Doug is my boyfriend and probably the man I’m going to marry. Gerald convinced me to give him a chance. I’m going to help you because I owe your father for being right,” Amy said, looking at Morgan with a new and critical eye. “But you’re going to have to convince Thea you’re interested in her. I can’t do everything.”

  “Really? Just how do I do that?” Morgan said, frowning at the demand.

  “Come in after two tomorrow,” Amy told him. “It’s my afternoon off. She’ll have to wait on you. Then you can make your move.”

  Morgan couldn’t help smiling at Amy’s sincerity.

  “My move?” he asked, repeating her words and looking at kitchen doors as he polished off the last of his fries.

  Amy rolled her eyes. “Talk to your father if you need help. Gerald will know exactly what to do. He’s got great moves.”

  Morgan laughed again and shook his head. Great. Every woman he met thought his father was the world’s greatest lover.

  He handed Amy a twenty to end the torture, figuring he’d heard enough about his father’s kissing expertise today to last a lifetime.

  “Keep the change. You better be right though or I want a refund on that tip. I’ll be back tomorrow.”

  Amy laughed softly as she watched the man walk sadly out the door. Morgan wasn’t Gerald, but he had his own appeal.

  *** *** ***

  “You’re making too much of it,” Gerald said lightly, forking up a bite. “Great pasta, Morgan. When did you learn to cook?”

  “I took lessons,” Morgan said casually. “What do you mean I’m making too much of it? The woman barely even said hello to me.”

  “She was openly ignoring you. That just proves how interested she is,” Gerald said, waving away Morgan’s concern as he scooped up another bite. “This is really great. What’s in this?”

  “I make my own sauce,” Morgan answered, simultaneously pleased his father liked the food and irritated that he wasn’t getting any straight answers from the man about Althea. “That’s what Amy said. So what do I do next—since everyone seems to think you’re the expert on women.”

  “Go back and convince Thea that your interest in Amy is just friendship and your interest in her is for more. It’s not rocket science,” Gerald told his son, amused at the distress on Morgan’s face.

  “How the hell do I do that?” Morgan demanded, exasperated that everyone seemed to know but him.

  There was a good reason he didn’t have any experience. He had never in his life chased a woman who had given him such an obvious brush-off.

  “For starters, keep showing up at the restaurant. Get in Thea’s face,” Gerald said, shrugging. “Surely you know what to do once you get that far.”

  Morgan threw a roll at his father, who let it bounce off his shoulder as he laughed. “Get in her face? That’s your expert advice. How in the hell do you have every woman in this town falling all over you?”

  “Morgan, you’re such a skeptic,” Gerald complained, pulling the pill he’d carried all day out of his shirt pocket and pushing it over to his disbelieving son.

  Curious, Morgan picked it up and read the side of it to see what kind of supplement it was. Once he did, he immediately returned the pill to his father’s side of the table, his face flushing while his father laughed harder than ever.

  Morgan couldn’t hold his gaze and had to look at the table as he shook his head in disbelief.

  “Well, you asked to know my secret. That’s how I keep one of them very interested. Some women are more complicated,” Gerald said, grinning at the flush still on Morgan’s face. “Sorry if I embarrassed you. I thought we covered this when you were seventeen. No one told me adult kids would need a refresher course. I’d have talked to you in your thirties. At forty-four, you’re almost too old to change your ways now.”

  “Damn it, Dad,” Morgan said, finally leaning his face into his hand and laughing himself. “I don’t need physical assistance, or at least not yet. I need to know how to talk to Althea right.”

  Gerald leaned back in his chair and studied what appeared to be a genuine desire to know Thea being reflected in his son’s gaze. “I believe Sedona agrees with you, Morgan. You’re getting smarter every day you’re here.”

  Morgan snorted in frustration. “So you going to seriously help me or not?”

  “It’s common sense son. Show up at the restaurant regularly. Compliment the food. Let Thea catch you staring at her so she’s clear about your intentions,” Gerald said. “That should get the ball rolling. Hopefully, Amy will have cleared up the incident from today. Cross your fingers for timing and good luck.”

  “And these are your best suggestions?” Morgan demanded, shaking his head in disbelief again. “It can’t be that easy, Dad.”

  “Easy? Boy have you got a lot to learn,” Gerald said, digging into his pasta again. “Great food, Morgan. If you ever get tired of being a hard-ass investigator, you could be a great chef.”

  “Dad, I know you worry about my job, but really, getting shot was just an accident. The people I usually investigate are just average people who exhibit a one-time lack in judgment. Most of them don’t pack guns or hurt anyone physically,” Morgan said, seeing concern still on his father’s face.

  “Morgan, the biggest risk of your work is not the possibility of getting shot again,�
� Gerald told him. “I don’t want you to grow old and hard, thinking the worst of everyone you meet. I don’t want you to live without love. Life is too short.”

  “If that happens to me,” Morgan said carefully, “it won’t be because you’re not setting a good example. I envy you your life, Dad. I mean that.”

  “Well, stop envying,” Gerald said firmly, standing up to head to his bedroom. “You can have this kind of life any time you want. Don’t wait until you’re too old to enjoy it.”

  “Yeah? How old would that be?” Morgan asked, laughing. His father waved a hand and didn’t answer as he left the kitchen. “No, really—tell me, Dad. I want to know. Eighty? Ninety? A hundred and ten? You’re seventy-two and I don’t see you slowing down yet.”

  The bedroom door slammed and Morgan laughed harder.

  “Get in her face,” he repeated, shaking his head in disbelief. “If I get in that woman’s face, she’ll take a swing at me. You can’t trust those quiet types.”

  Still, as he did the dishes and put the remaining food away, his mind played out several scenarios of what he would do if Althea Carmichael ever let him get that close.

  Chapter 5

  “He was only flirting with me so he could ask questions about you,” Amy declared. “In fact, Morgan asked what I thought his chances were.”

  Thea moved from table to table refilling salt and pepper, straightening the condiment racks.

  “So what did you tell him?” she finally asked.

  Not that she was really interested, but Thea was concerned with what Amy might have shared. Something about Gerald’s son brought her guard up.

  “I told the man you didn’t date,” Amy said, shrugging at the look of shock on Thea’s face as the woman’s gaze met hers. “Well, you don’t. So why should it matter to you what I said? I doubt he’s coming back anyway. Morgan Reed didn’t strike me as the persistent sort.”

  Thea went back to her task. “I date,” she said, the statement sounding more defensive than Thea would have liked. “I just don’t date-date.

  Amy tilted her head and gave Thea a doubtful look.

  “Morgan stares at your butt when you’re not looking. He couldn’t take his eyes off you the first day he met you. When you blew him off yesterday, after he came specifically to see you, he walked out like he’d given up on the world. You’re just too old to notice.”

  “Old?” Thea said, offended now. “I am not too old. I’m just—picky.”

  “Picky? What are you looking for?” Amy said with challenge. “Sure, he’s not Gerald, but I’d at least kiss the man once before I wrote him off.”

  “Well, why don’t you then? You can tell me and I won’t have to find out for myself,” Thea said sharply.

  “Morgan’s old enough to be my father. If I was going to go for an older man, I’d go for Gerald,” Amy told her, relieved when Thea finally laughed.

  “Father, huh?” Thea asked, her mouth turned up on one side in a half grin. “I bet Morgan Reed would love hearing that.”

  “Well, he is. I think Gerald said he was over forty. I heard guys that age can’t get it up anymore. Doug can go all night. I like that in my men,” Amy said boldly, knowing she was pushing the boundary of what Thea was comfortable joking about.

  “Honey, we all like that in our men,” Thea said without thinking, full out laughing now. “I’m sure Morgan Reed doesn’t need help yet. You can tell.”

  “You can? How?” Amy demanded, surprised not because she doubted it, but that Thea had noticed and caught the vibe.

  Thea shrugged. “It’s about the level of interest a man shows you. Morgan Reed was checking me out and sizing me up as a potential within seconds of meeting me. I may be old and out of practice, but I haven’t forgotten everything.”

  “So are you interested in Morgan? I mean in a date-date kind of way,” Amy asked, thinking it had taken her almost two hours to work up to the real question.

  “I don’t know,” Thea said. “We’ll see what happens if he comes by again.”

  “Well, if he does, try to catch him staring at your butt,” Amy said. “You’ll see just how interested he is for sure then.”

  “I can’t believe I’m getting advice on men from someone younger than my own children,” Thea told her.

  “Gerald and I have a lot in common,” Amy said firmly. “We’re both die-hard romantics. If you end up date-dating Morgan, I just want you to promise to tell me how he kisses. I can’t help being a little curious. He has a nice mouth.”

  Thea sighed and rolled her eyes. “I do not kiss and tell.”

  “If Morgan is as good I think he’s going to be, you won’t be able to keep the truth in,” Amy told her. “You’ll be bragging more than Lydia.”

  “Right,” Thea said. “Like that’s going to happen to me. I’m not Lydia, and Morgan isn’t Gerald. There are some things you just accept with age. The calming down of your hormones is one of them. Mine calmed downed almost a decade ago.”

  “Some men are inspiring,” Amy declared. “Look at Gerald and Lydia.”

  Thea nodded and bit her lip. Lydia hadn’t dated in years either, but had taken up sleeping with Gerald pretty fast once he’d offered.

  “Yeah. Okay. You have a point there.”

  Amy laughed and walked away, happy that Thea was at least thinking that kissing Morgan Reed was a possibility.

  She just hoped Morgan didn’t blow it again when he showed up.

  *** *** ***

  Morgan waited until a quarter past two before stopping by the restaurant. Despite how empty it had been yesterday at one-thirty, he was still a bit surprised to find it completely empty of customers again today.

  Thea was behind the bar cleaning. She straightened when she saw him.

  “Don’t stop on my account,” Morgan said, walking to the bar. “I’ll just hop up here if that’s okay.”

  “Suit yourself,” Thea said, finding the words came out a little more breathlessly than she would have liked.

  It was Amy and all her teasing about Morgan being interested in her.

  He’s not all that attractive, Thea decided, watching Morgan Reed slide his body up on the bar stool. He was too slim for his height and had a sharp nose above a mouth that, okay—she agreed with Amy was made for kissing.

  Still, his hair needed trimming, and his eyes. . .well, actually he had nice eyes. They reminded her of Gerald’s. It was really the only familial likeness from what she could tell.

  “What can I get you to drink?” Thea asked, smiling kindly.

  Morgan looked at her and grinned. “You make something better than your iced tea?”

  “No,” Thea told him, smiling a little more. “I sell beer and soda though. Got to offer a little variety.”

  “Not interested,” Morgan said, his smile spreading to his eyes. “Iced tea. Lots of rocks. Keep it coming until I fall off the chair.”

  “No worries. Two glasses of tea sends most customers running to the restroom long before they drink enough to fall off,” Thea told him, mostly just to see how he would react.

  When Morgan laughed at her joke, she saw his eyes crinkle and felt her toes curl in happiness at having caused his amusement. Thea looked at her feet in amazement. What was that about? She’d never reacted to a man with her feet before.

  Morgan was smiling broadly when her gaze came back to his. “Something wrong with your feet?”

  Thea shook her head no. “I’ll get your tea and be right back.”

  “Can I have a menu today?” Morgan asked, leaning both arms on the bar. “I’m in the mood to try something new.”

  Thea slid a menu over to him from the top of a pile about six inches to his right on the bar.

  Following her action, he laughed again. “Uh. . .thanks. I didn’t see them there.”

  “No reason you would. I’ll get your tea. Be right back,” Thea said, moving to the swinging doors as fast as her tingling toes would let her walk.

  As she blasted through them, it was just
too tempting not to look back over her shoulder. Thea blushed though when she saw Morgan’s gaze had indeed followed her butt. It was only made worse when his gaze lifted quickly and caught her looking at him looking at her. His grin was way too knowing, way too pleased with himself, and had her toes curling again.

  “Oh for pity’s sake, Thea Carmichael,” she whispered to herself, as she poured him a glass of tea. “You’re fifty-four years old. Act your age.”

  Thea marched back out the swinging doors, back to where Morgan perched on the bar stool. Ice cubes jingled in the glass she deposited in front of him with a slightly shaky hand. He glanced at her hand but didn’t comment.

  “Have you decided what you want yet?” Thea demanded, more sharply than she’d probably ever spoken to a customer.

  Morgan lowered the menu and folded it closed. “I think I decided that the first moment we met, but I’m trying not to rush you.”

  So, she thought, he really was interested—or at least he was challenged. Thea knew men chased women for many reasons, not the least of which was sex. Since she wasn’t into improving any man’s scorecard or interested in anything for herself anymore, she just stayed out of the game. It kept things simple in her life.

  “You’re wasting good energy. Men flirt with me all the time. I’ve learned never to take it too seriously,” Thea said lightly, pretending a sudden intense interest in the napkins that needed straightening under the bar.

  “I’m not good at flirting,” Morgan said firmly. “Dad didn’t pass that talent on to me. I prefer the more direct approach, so here it is. I’m interested in dating you, Althea.”

  “Look, if you’re going to use my name, call me Thea,” she said, her own name sticking in a throat suddenly dry as cotton.

  “Okay. I’m interested in dating you, Thea,” Morgan said, fighting not to grin over her discomfort.

  Thea kept her gaze firmly focused on the napkins as she answered. “Sorry, but I don’t date.”

  “That’s exactly what Amy said when I asked her about it,” Morgan said, watching the napkin sorting slow to almost a stop and then pick up pace again. So it had really bothered her to think he’d been flirting with Amy. “Why don’t you date?”