A Match for Morgan

by Marie Ferrarella

  Her heart was beating so hard, she could hardly hear herself. “Make love, not war?”

  He smiled, and the smile seeped into her senses. “That’s the general idea.”

  Morgan wanted to give in, wanted to surrender, but she had to know. “Why me?”

  Once again he stopped, but this time only for a moment before he resumed brushing his lips along the column of her neck.

  “Hunting for a compliment? Okay, I’ll give you one. Because of all the women I’ve ever met, you’re the only one who’s ever lingered on my mind, the only one who keeps haunting me.”

  Morgan forced herself to rally. She wasn’t going to go the way of all the others before her. She wanted to be different. She would be different.

  “Doesn’t say much for Judith, does it?” She dared him to lie to her.

  This time it was Wyatt who drew back. Hearing his ex-wife’s name was like having cold water dashed in his face. Maybe this was a bad time, after all.

  “Judith is a closed chapter in my life. Let it be, Morgan.”

  But because he wanted her to, she couldn’t. Couldn’t shy away from what she knew was reality.

  “Why? Because I’d find out that you said the same things to her?”

  He’d never said the same things to Judith because he’d never felt the same things about Judith. He never lied about his feelings. To lie somehow seemed reprehensibly dishonorable, and honor meant a great deal to him.

  She’d probably laugh if he told her that, he thought. So he didn’t protest, instead he answered with a question of his own. “Would it bother you if I did?”

  Morgan tried to appear indifferent. “No.” Indifference melted before the truth. “Yes.” But that was giving too much of herself away. Morgan sighed, helpless. “I don’t know.”

  That, too, made two of them. Although in his case he felt as if he were coming closer to the truth.

  “Always liked multiple choice. Gives me an even chance at getting the right answer.” And then the teasing smile faded. He framed her face in his hands, looking into her eyes. They were still as beautiful as they’d been when he first noticed them, five years ago, on a cloudy day as they’d stood in the hospital parking lot. “If it matters, I never felt about Judith the way I seem to be feeling about you.”

  He’d qualified it with a single word. Seem. But even that wasn’t enough.

  “Then why did you marry her?” When he didn’t answer, Morgan had the answer she’d thought she would get. “I thought so.”

  She left him completely confused. “Thought what?”

  Morgan crossed to the window. It faced the front of the house. There were no wedding guests here, nothing to remind her that she should be downstairs, not here. Nothing but her own sense of honor.

  “That you’re lying to me.” Suddenly she hated Judith. Hated any woman who had been as close to Wyatt as she herself had been. And hated him for letting her get that close. What was happening to her? Was she losing her mind? “That you probably told her the earth moved and the stars shone brighter and—”

  Angry, he told her the reason before he could stop himself. “I married Judith because she was pregnant, and she said the baby was mine. And it probably was.” He’d had no reason to doubt her.

  For a second Morgan was completely speechless. “But you don’t—”

  “—have any kids?” He second-guessed her question. “No, I don’t.” Maybe it meant something that he was telling her, Wyatt thought. In any event, he’d blurted out half of it. She might as well know the rest. “She miscarried in her sixth month. It was a boy.” He’d had a son, a son he’d never gotten to hold, a son he’d loved from the moment he’d found out about his existence.

  Confusion assaulted her. It didn’t make any sense. Her brothers would have said something to her. This was too big a secret to have kept to themselves.

  “But she never showed—”

  Wyatt was well aware of that. It had been the basis of the first arguments he’d had with Judith.

  “That would be because of her vanity. Judith practically starved herself, trying to hang on to that figure of hers for as long as she could.” Her flagrant disregard of nutrition was what had directly contributed to her miscarriage.

  It didn’t make any sense to Morgan. In this day and age, there were options. “Why didn’t she just—”

  He knew what she was going to ask. It was something he refused to even consider.

  “Religion’s a powerful thing at times. It makes itself known in our lives when we least expect it. She couldn’t bring herself to be the one to make the decision to end a life.” Judith had turned to him for that, but he’d surprised her by refusing to sanction the termination of his child. There was no way he would have had her sweep the tiny life away. Instead, he’d proposed.

  His mouth hardened. “But she could very well starve it away.”

  It was the truth. He was telling her the truth. What’s more, he still grieved for the lost life. Why no one else knew no longer mattered. Morgan’s heart ached for him.

  She placed her hand on his shoulder. “Wyatt, I’m so sorry.”

  He looked at her and saw the sympathy. It slammed into him with both fists, and he turned away, shrugging. Sympathy disarmed him.

  “Yeah, me, too.”

  She paused, but she knew she’d have no peace until she found out. “That still doesn’t answer my question, though.”

  He’d lost track. Wyatt shoved his hands into his pockets. “Which one?”

  “Why did you marry her?” Morgan circled around him so that she could see his eyes when he answered. “A lot of people have kids these days and they don’t get married.”

  Just because it happened to others didn’t make it his way. “I’m not a lot of people, Morgan. I had this quaint notion that my kid deserved to start out with a complete set of parents.” It was all a moot point now. “That maybe I could give him the kind of home you had.”

  The longing she heard in his voice surprised her. “Me?”

  Wyatt shrugged. “You, Hank, Quint, the others.” Did that really surprise her? “Why do you think Casey and I hung around here so much?”

  She’d never thought about it much. It was just a given. “I thought you liked my brothers—and tormenting me.”

  He laughed, coming up behind her and slipping his arms around her waist. He liked holding her this way, he thought. There was something comforting about it.

  “That goes without saying, but I also loved the feeling here. The love, the warmth.” He thought back. “Hell, you can feel it the second you walk through the door.” In all the years, that hadn’t changed. He still preferred being here to his own. parents’ house. “Even when there was yelling, it was the kind of yelling that made you feel loved, not the kind that made you feel like you were a fool. Or worse, an intruder.”

  Morgan turned around to face him. She’d never pictured him as experiencing one insecure moment in his life. “Is that how you felt?”

  He didn’t want to go on talking, not when she felt this good in his arms. “Hey, haven’t you run out of questions yet? When’s my turn?”

  Morgan twined her arms around his neck, feeling touched. He’d let her have a peek into his soul, a soul she hadn’t even realized until just now that he had. And she felt closer to him. She knew she might live to regret it, but there were already so many regrets involved here, what was one more?

  “I think it’s coming up right now.” Rising on her toes, she pressed her mouth to his.

  The urgency happened a second after contact and remained throughout, egging them on until they were enveloped in a frenzy. Clothes were discarded, needs faced and met, and hungers, hungers were almost sated. Almost, but not quite. A little remained to remind them that there was always more to be had.

  Later.

  For now, they lay on her bed, spent, contented and confused.

  He slipped his arm around her, drawing her against him. Even now he felt himself responding to her. Another
first. To make love and want to do it again almost immediately. What sort of hold did she have on him?

  Morgan turned her body into his. “We’re going to have to stop meeting like this.”

  He laughed at the melodramatic line and kissed the top of her head. “Why?”

  That was affection, she thought. Not desire, not passion, just pure affection. Her heart felt as if it was glowing. “Because someone’s bound to walk in on us.”

  “Oh, I dunno. I’ve always been a pretty lucky guy.” He lightly swept his hand along the swell of her hips, stirring her. Stirring himself. “I figure my luck’ll stretch a little further.”

  She was trying very hard not to succumb to the desire he’d aroused in her. They had to be getting back. “Oh, I forgot who I was dealing with. Casanova.”

  “At the risk of shattering my image, I haven’t been with as many women as you think I have.” He laughed at the thought. “Actually, I don’t think it’s physically possible for any one man to have had as many encounters as you attribute to me.”

  She would really love to believe that, believe that there hadn’t been a legion of women in his life, Morgan thought as they both rose and dressed. “You’re not exactly a novice.”

  He’d be lying if he pretended that. “No, that I’m not.” His eyes met hers. “Does that bother you?”

  She sniffed. “Couldn’t care less.”

  He lifted her chin, keeping her from looking away. “Is that so?”

  “Yes, that’s so.” Morgan was finding it difficult to keep a straight face. If she kept giving herself away like this, how could she make him believe that he hadn’t tangled her heart up?

  “Seems to me I tasted something quite apart from indifference in your kiss.” To prove it, he brushed a kiss against her lips.

  Morgan moaned despite herself. Rising on her toes again, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her lips against his in earnest.

  “Morgan, are you in there?”

  A light rap against the door preceded it being opened. Quint’s jaw dropped as he looked into the room.

  Morgan froze for exactly half a heartbeat. Yelping, she jumped back, her heart thudding against her rib cage.

  Rubbing the back of his neck, Quint looked off into space. He didn’t know if he was more stunned or pleased by the turn of events. Hell of an awkward moment. “Sorry, didn’t know you were…busy.”

  Morgan could hear the grin working its way forward in her brother’s voice. “You breathe a word of this to anyone—”

  Quint didn’t have to look at her to know the expression on her face was dark.

  “No danger of that.” Shaking his head, he laughed. “I don’t think anyone would believe me. I saw you, and I still don’t believe me.” Morgan and Wyatt. Wait until he told the others. “How long has this been going on?”

  She resented the implication. “It’s not ‘going on,” Morgan corrected tersely. “I just had something in my eye, that’s all.”

  “And he was doing what?” Quint asked.

  Thinking about it, Quint figured this was probably a long time in coming. He was sorry he’d walked in on it and spoiled things for the two of them. Who knew where they might have gone if he hadn’t come looking for Morgan.

  “Quint—”

  “What?”

  “Shut up,” she ordered tersely.

  “Good idea.” He began to turn toward the door. “In any event, I’d better get out of the line of fire before the fireworks start.”

  “No, I’m getting out,” Morgan announced as she hurried out of the room. “Not a word,” she flung over her shoulder, “or Ginny’s going to be a widow before she’s a bride.”

  “Threatening the sheriff’s against the law,” Quint called after her.

  A deep chuckle underlined his words. But as Wyatt passed him on his way out the door, Quint clamped a hand on the younger man’s shoulder. Wyatt stopped, a quizzical look on his face.

  “I’ve always liked you, Wyatt, but you hurt her and I’ll have to shoot you. Don’t make me waste any ammunition. I hate having to fill out forms.”

  “Quint—”

  “I don’t know what’s going on between you and her, other than the obvious, but I don’t want any casualties when it’s over, understood?”

  Wyatt had a feeling he’d get the same speech from all of her brothers. He liked to think he would have felt the same way himself if he’d had a sister. In any case, Quint had nothing to worry about. “I’ve no intentions of hurting her, Quint.”

  Quint figured it was a significant choice of words. “What are your intentions?”

  Damned if he knew. “I’m still working that out.” He saw that Quint believed him. “All of this is as big a surprise to me as it is to you.”

  Quint damn well could have been knocked over by the breeze made by a butterfly’s wings when he’d walked into the room. “Oh, I don’t think so, Wyatt.” He paused, reflecting. “Do you love her?”

  Did he love her? Yes, he supposed that might be the word to attach to this feeling. He was so new at it, he wasn’t sure. But that was a moot point. “It doesn’t matter how I feel. Morgan won’t have anything to do with me.”

  “Didn’t look that way to me.”

  But Wyatt hadn’t been talking about the obvious. “Other than a physical attraction—”

  Quint never cared to see an animal suffer. And not a full-grown man, either. He threw his friend a lifeline. “We talking about the same woman? My little sister might seem to be all temper and emotion, but she’s got a pretty good handle on things. If it’s happening between the two of you, it’s because she wants it to happen. My guess is that you both want it to. And my advice is that you don’t waste any more time than you already have. Clear the air once and for all, tell her what you feel.” He looked at him intently, his expression softening. “Tell yourself how you feel,” he added. “You’ll be glad you did.”

  Wyatt sincerely had his doubts about that. Once he confronted his feelings, really confronted them, there’d be no place to hide. He didn’t look forward to having his gut kicked in any more than it already had been.

  10

  “It’s nice of you to pitch in like this, Morgan.”

  Zoe took out the wedding decorations that had been taken down last Sunday morning. She’d ignored Jake’s “helpful” solution of leaving the decorations up the entire four weeks. He saw no reason to keep duplicating work.

  Men and their shortcuts, she thought fondly.

  Zoe handed the first box over to Morgan. Her daughter had surprised her by showing up early this morning, saying she’d taken the day off from work and wanted to help.

  Zoe took out another carton, this one filled with streamers.

  “I could certainly use the extra hands. Three of your brothers are off, setting up housekeeping for themselves, and Lord only knows what’s happened to Quint.” When she’d heard the front door open this morning, she had expected to see Quint walk in, not Morgan.

  “He’s probably busy. He is the sheriff, Ma,” Morgan pointed out.

  Zoe carefully extracted a white tablecloth from the depths of the closet. Her voice echoed back to Morgan. “In a town where the most notorious crime is shoplifting cupcakes.”

  Which, Morgan knew, was the way that Quint had met Ginny. She’d come sailing into Serendipity after Quint had locked up her kid sister, Jennifer. Not so much for shoplifting cupcakes from the grocery store as for her hell-bent-on-rebellion attitude—which, he’d told Morgan, reminded him a great deal of her, when she was that age. The difference being that she had a whole family to fall back on.

  Now Jennifer and Ginny were both living here, and Ginny was Serendipity’s first lawyer.

  That would make Quint and Ginny law and order, Morgan mused with a smile. Hefting the box of decorations, she carried them to the back porch.

  And what were she and Wyatt? she wondered, walking back inside.

  Chaos and disaster, probably.

  “Where are you
?”

  Morgan blinked and looked up to see that her mother had stopped working and was looking at her quizzically. “Right here, Ma, helping you.”

  Zoe had a different take on that. Piling the three tablecloths one on top of the other, she handed them to Morgan.

  “Your body might be taking up space here, but you definitely aren’t here in mind or spirit.” She peered at Morgan’s face. Her daughter’s eyes were troubled. “Anything you want to talk about?”

  Morgan neatly turned on her heel and walked out to place the tablecloths beside the box. Her voice floated back to Zoe.

  “No.”

  Zoe waited until Morgan returned. “Anything you don’t want to talk about but I should hear, anyway?”

  Morgan smiled, remembering. That had always been her mother’s standard line when she was growing up. The one she used to extract the truth about some prank or other out of her. It had been a long time in between pranks since then.

  “No, Ma, there’s nothing. Really.”

  Zoe knew better. Following Morgan outside with the last of the decorations, Zoe said. “Wyatt McCall can hardly be called nothing.”

  The box Morgan was carrying nearly slipped from her fingers.

  “Who told you?” And how much had they told her? If Quint had inadvertently said anything to their mother about walking in on them, sheriff or not, she was going to kill him.

  Triumph curved Zoe’s mouth, a mouth that she’d passed on to her daughter. “Nobody. I just guessed.” Very carefully she began laying out the various decorations on the first table. She glanced at Morgan. “Correctly, by your vehement reaction.” She smoothed out a crepe streamer. “I always thought the two of you belonged together.”

  Morgan sighed. She looked up at the sky. Cloudless and blue, it promised them a beautiful day for the wedding tomorrow. “Then you’d be the only one. He’s not interested in settling down.”

  So, her daughter was thinking along those lines, was she? All her birds were leaving the nest at once. It took her breath away.