MORGAN

by Lori Foster

  "Tough. It'll help. And I made this real sweet."

  She sipped carefully while he held her head, then sighed. "Not bad."

  After several minutes of repeating the procedure, she cautiously sat up and smiled. "You're a miracle worker. I won't even need to sneak off to the lake."

  Morgan smoothed her hair, thinking she was about the most precious-looking woman first thing in the morning, with her eyes puffy, a crease on her cheek from the pillow. He frowned at himself. "If you ever do want to go to the lake, let me know and I'll keep you company, okay?"

  Instead of answering him, she asked, "You've taken care of a lot of pregnant ladies, huh?"

  "No, you're my first. Why?"

  "How'd you know the toast and tea would help?"

  She was naked under the sheet, which barely kept her nipples concealed. Now that she no longer felt sick, talking required major concentration on his part. "I asked my mother."

  She jumped so hard she spilled her tea. Yep, his sheets were in for a lot of washing.

  He eyed the spill on the top sheet and started to pull it away from her before she got soaked, but she gripped it tightly to her chin and glared at him. "You did what?"

  She sounded like a frog. "I asked my mother. I figured she had four kids so she had to have had morning sickness, right? She told me what worked for her. And by the way, she sends her love."

  Misty pulled her knees up and dropped her head. "I don't believe this," was her muffled complaint.

  Morgan smoothed her hair again. He loved her hair, shiny black and silky. Between the two of them, they'd likely have dark-haired children. He wondered if their eyes would be dark blue like his, or vivid blue like Misty's. It didn't matter to him one whit. "Will you marry me, Misty?"

  She jerked upright and thwacked her skull on the headboard. With a wince, she rubbed her head, then eyed Morgan. "What did you say?"

  Damn. Morgan took in her expression of stark disbelief and faltered. Her eyes were narrowed, her pupils dilated. Her soft mouth was pinched tight.

  And he was hard again.

  "I said," he muttered through his teeth, "will you marry me?"

  "Why?"

  Morgan stiffened, and he knew his damn face was heating. He hadn't blushed since sixth grade! "What the hell do you mean, why?"

  She didn't blink, didn't look away from him. As if talking to a nitwit, she asked slowly, "Why do you want to marry me?"

  A knock on the door saved him from trying to give a stammering reply. He sure as hell hadn't expected her to answer his proposal with an interrogation. He gave her a glare, waited until she'd pulled the sheet higher, then called out, "Come in."

  Gabe stuck his head in the door. He kept his gaze resolutely on Morgan, and not on Misty. "You have a phone call."

  "Take a message."

  "Uh, Morgan, it's from out of town. I think you'll want to take it."

  He could tell by Gabe's tone who the caller was. Hating the interruption, even while he was relieved by it, he stood. "I'll be right back."

  Misty nodded, her face almost blank.

  He put his hands on his hips. "We'll finish this conversation when I get off the phone."

  "All right."

  She sounded far from enthusiastic, and he wanted to demand to know how she felt, but knew he'd do better to bide his time. Patience, more often than not, wasn't his virtue.

  He didn't look at her again as he left the room.

  Twenty minutes later he was lounging against the wall outside the hall bathroom when Misty finally emerged, fresh from her shower. She put on her brakes when she saw him and stared at him warily without saying a word.

  Morgan noticed her wet hair, her pink cheeks, her bare feet. She had on a T-shirt and loose cotton drawstring pants. "You going somewhere?"

  "I have to be at the diner in about an hour."

  He wanted to curse, to insist she skip work today, but he knew without even asking that he'd be wasting his breath. The woman was bound and determined to make all the money she could. Well, that'd be over with soon enough.

  "All right. Then I guess we ought to get right to it."

  "You're going to tell me why you want to marry me?"

  There was no one else in the hallway, but he'd definitely prefer more guaranteed privacy. He took her arm and led her to his room. When he closed the door, he leaned against it and watched her. "Do you remember a woman named Victoria Markum?"

  Misty backed up until her knees hit his mattress, then dropped onto it. "Yes. She was Mr. Collins's girlfriend."

  He nodded. "Well, I hired some people to talk to her."

  She frowned in confusion. "You hired people?" At his nod, she asked, "But why?"

  "To prove your innocence. And don't give me that look, Malone. I didn't tell you because I didn't want you to start squawking about me spending my money. This is something I wanted to do, all right?"

  "I'll pay you back—"

  "The hell you will." Morgan went to her and sat beside her, then took her hands. "Can't you just accept that I care and I want to help?"

  She searched his face for a long time before she grudgingly said, "Thank you. I don't know what to say."

  "You could ask me what I found out."

  "All right." She bit her lip, her face filled with anxiety. "I hope, judging by the way you're acting, it's good news?"

  "As a matter of fact, it is. You see, Malone, I believed you when you said you hadn't taken the money. That meant someone else did, of course. I wondered if perhaps Ms. Markum might have done it."

  Misty squeezed his fingers; her hands were ice cold. "I never even considered that. I kept wondering if someone had managed to slip into the store and open the register while I was in the rest room, or if maybe the money had just been miscounted, but ... Victoria didn't seem like a thief to me. She was...I don't know. Too ditzy. And I think they were planning on getting married, so she'd have been sort of stealing from herself, right?"

  Morgan held both her hands between his own to warm them. "Actually, they were planning on marrying, or at least, Ms. Markum was. But we found out that Ms. Markum and your boss had a falling out. He, it seems, took the money she'd been holding for him in her own savings account, and ran with it, so she was more than willing to talk to us. It didn't even take much prodding, from what the investigator told me. You see, she didn't steal the money...but he did."

  "What?"

  "Collins had been skimming from himself. Ms. Markum may be a ditz, but she has facts and dates and exact amounts that should corroborate her testimony. All we need to do now is contact your lawyer, who can file for a motion for the first trial to be declared a mistrial, based on the new evidence. The second trial should be scheduled quickly, probably within a month, because they won't want you serving more of a sentence than you've already had to."

  She shook her head. "It can't be that easy."

  "Actually it is." He smiled, trying to reassure her. "Well, you'll have to see the judge again, of course, but this time I'll be with you."

  She stared at him in amazement, her bottom lip starting to quiver.

  "Now, Malone," he said uneasily, "don't cry. I can't stand it."

  Big tears welled in her eyes anyway. "I can't believe you did this for me."

  He pulled her close and kissed the tip of her nose, which was starting to turn red. "I want you to be happy."

  She launched herself against him, knocking him back on the bed. She kissed his face, his throat, his ear. Morgan laughed even as he felt himself harden. There was no way Misty Malone could crawl all over him without turning him on. He caught her mouth and held her still for the deep thrust of his tongue, but pulled back slowly before he completely lost control.

  He held her head to his shoulder and smiled. "That's one problem taken care of."

  She squeezed him tight. "You are the most amazing man."

  Laughing, Morgan growled, "So you keep telling me. Now answer my other question. Will you marry me?"

  She went still. V
ery slowly she raised her face. "You still haven't told me why you want to marry me."

  Because he'd had a few minutes to come up with a reply, he said easily, "You're sexy and beautiful."

  Her smile was radiant. "You're sexy and beautiful, too, but that's not a good reason to tie yourself to someone for life."

  He snorted at her compliment. "We have great sex together. Hell, I still feel singed."

  Her smile melted away and her eyes darkened. "Me, too. It was the most incredible thing. I'd never imagined sex could be like that." She brushed a kiss over his jaw, then added, "But we don't have to get married to have great sex. For as long as I'm here, I'm willing, Morgan."

  His stomach started to cramp. She wasn't saying yes, and in fact, she was making a lot of excuses to cancel out every reason he gave her. But there was one reason she couldn't refute. "You're pregnant."

  "The baby isn't your responsibility."

  "It is if I want to make it my responsibility."

  "Oh, Morgan. You're not thinking straight. You can't really want to be a fill-in for another man's child."

  "The baby will be mine if you marry me."

  She touched gentle fingers to his mouth and her expression was one of wonderment. "You say that now because you're feeling protective of me, just like you feel about everyone. But I don't need you to take care of me, Morgan. I can take care of myself, and the baby."

  Morgan moved swiftly, rolling her beneath him before she could draw a deep breath. "Let me tell you something, Misty Malone. What you know about men doesn't add up to jack. And for your information, I don't care that the baby isn't mine. It's yours, and that's all that matters to me."

  She shook her head, making him curse. He caught her hands and raised them over her head. "I'm going to tell you a little story."

  "I have to be at work soon."

  "Tough. Don't rush me." She wisely didn't push him on that score. Morgan drew a deep breath, then admitted, "Sawyer isn't Casey's natural father."

  Misty's eyes widened and her mouth opened twice before she sputtered, "That's ridiculous!"

  "No, it's true. If you want all the details, you can ask Honey. I'm sure Sawyer told her the whole story."

  "But..." She searched his face, then looked away. "She's never said a word."

  "Likely because it doesn't matter. Not to Sawyer, and sure as hell not to the rest of us. No one could love that boy more than we do. Sawyer knew all along that Casey wasn't his. But he'd been married to Casey's mother, and she didn't want him. So he brought Case home, a squalling little red-faced rodent, and we all went head over heels. Hell, a baby is a baby. It doesn't matter who planted the seed. All that matters is who loves him and cares for him and shelters him. I want to do that with you, Misty." He swallowed hard, his hands gripping her shoulders. "Marry me."

  He could feel her shaking beneath him, saw the tears gathering in her eyes. She bit her lip and sniffed.

  "Malone?"

  "I...I can't."

  Never in his life, Morgan thought, had anything hurt so much. He'd been in brawls, he'd been injured by cars and animals. He'd had broken limbs and a broken nose and more bruises than he could count. But nothing had ever hurt like this.

  He stared at Misty, not wanting to believe that she'd refused him. She'd told him all along that she didn't want commitment, that she was through with involvement. But he hadn't believed her, not really. He hadn't wanted to believe her.

  His head throbbed and his blood boiled. He wanted to rage, he wanted to shout. But he'd made a big enough fool of himself already.

  He rolled to the side of the bed and stared at the ceiling. He started to ask her why, but wasn't at all sure he wanted to know the answer. Misty scampered off the bed, and her bare feet made no sound on the carpet. His door closed very quietly.

  By the time he followed her, she'd already left for work.

  Gabe gave him a questioning look, but Morgan didn't even bother to acknowledge him. He left for work and didn't come home until late that night. He didn't see Misty at all.

  MISTY WAS SITTING BY the lake when Honey found her. She glanced at her sister, shielding her eyes from the sun. "Hey. What's up?"

  "That was my question." Honey lowered herself onto the edge of the dock beside Misty. She pulled off her sandals and dangled her feet in the water. "Morgan has looked like a thundercloud all day, growling at everyone, ready to spit nails. We're all avoiding him. The only one not afraid is the puppy."

  Misty looked at the dark lake water and promised herself she wouldn't cry. "The dog has really taken to him, then?"

  "Amazing, isn't it? Do you know what he named that little wad of fur? Godzilla. And the dog seems to like it."

  Misty summoned up a smile, when in truth, it was all she could do not to bawl like a baby.

  Honey made an exasperated sound. "So Morgan is more feral than ever and you're so morose the sun won't even shine on you. What's going on?"

  Misty turned her face away, resting it on her bent knees. Hoping Honey couldn't hear the strain in her voice, she said, "Nothing. I just wanted some peace and quiet."

  "Funny. That's just what Morgan said."

  "Oh?"

  "Yeah. He sent Gabe and Jordan running, and Sawyer was ready to hit him in the head, but I insisted he talk to me. He won't growl at me, you know. I think he's afraid it'll break me or something."

  Funny. Morgan had never hesitated to shower her with his bad moods, not that she'd minded. He hadn't scared her at all, because she'd seen through him.

  Honey cleared her throat. "He told me he just wants to finish up the house so he can get moved out. He's been spending every spare minute up there." Honey hesitated, then said with a dramatic flair, "Tomorrow he's moving in."

  Her stomach cramped, because she knew she'd chased him away, but what else could she do? Marry a man who didn't love her?

  "I hate to see him go," Honey admitted softly. "The house won't seem the same without him."

  Misty didn't reply to that. What could she say? She'd barely seen Morgan in two days. Even today, at the station, he'd not taken much notice of her. When he had looked at her, his expression had been flat. There'd been no teasing, no lust, no tenderness, none of the things she was used to and that she had begun to expect. Oh, he'd still been courteous, telling her to go to lunch, to take her time, to make sure she ate right. It was as if what had been between them was no longer there.

  Misty couldn't bear to think about that, so she decided to do something she should have done already. "I have a confession."

  Honey's arm slipped around her shoulders. "I'm still a good listener, you know."

  "You're going to be angry," Misty warned her.

  "I doubt it."

  But when Misty explained all about the theft, how she'd been found guilty, Honey was absolutely livid. Not at Misty, so much, but that her boss had dared to accuse her and that the judge hadn't believed her.

  It took some fast talking on Misty's part to make Honey understand that all was well now, or at least on the way to being well, thanks to Morgan, and to explain why she hadn't told her sooner.

  "So Morgan is the one that got it all straightened out?"

  Misty nodded, once again confounded by his generosity. "He's pretty wonderful, isn't he?"

  "I've certainly always thought so."

  She'd always thought so, too, but what she felt wasn't enough to make a marriage work. Misty heaved a sigh. "I have to leave tomorrow morning. I might be gone overnight. I'm not sure."

  Honey stiffened. "Leave where?"

  "My lawyer needs to see me. There're some things that have to be done to set up the new trial. Everything should go well, so I'm not worried about that. I already told Ceily, and I told Nate. I know I should have told Morgan that I wouldn't be in, but I just couldn't. Things aren't great between us right now."

  Very gently, Honey asked, "Why not?"

  Misty squeezed her hands into fists. "He asked me to marry him."

  There was a moment of s
tunned silence, then Honey gasped theatrically. "Well, that bastard! How dare he?"

  Shaking her head at her sister's mocking outrage, Misty said, "You don't understand."

  "I understand that you love him, sis. Isn't that what's most important?"

  "No." Misty dropped her feet into the water with a splash, then watched the ripples fan out until they disappeared. "What's important is that two people love each other. But Morgan doesn't love me. He likes to take care of people, and he thinks I need a husband because I'm pregnant. You've said yourself how old-fashioned he is. But that's not good enough anymore. I've learned a lot through all this, most importantly that you can't cut corners. If there isn't love, then there's nothing."

  "And you think Morgan doesn't love you?"

  Misty lifted one shoulder, not sure what to say. "I asked him why he wanted to marry me. He gave me a lot of good reasons, but not once did he say he loved me."

  "So ask him outright."

  Misty stared at her, appalled. "I can't do that!"

  "Why not?" Honey kicked her feet, too, splashing them both. "Morgan is a hard-headed man. Actually, he's just hard, period. All over."

  "I know, I know." Misty hadn't been able to sleep at night, remembering how wonderfully hard Morgan was. She loved everything about him, but she was crazy nuts about his big, solid body. And after only making love with him twice, she was addicted. She didn't think she could have ever gotten enough of him.

  "Hard men are usually sensitive men."

  Misty snorted over that bit of nonsense. "Morgan is about as blunt as they come. He always tells me what he's thinking or feeling, even if it embarrasses me to death."

  Honey looked at the sky and pondered that. "Well, then, don't you think you owe him the same courtesy?"

  She shuddered at just the thought. "I'm a horrible coward. Morgan's made it clear from the first that he's attracted to me. But that's all."

  "How can you say that?" Honey frowned at her. "Morgan's done everything he could to keep you close by. He even made up that ridiculous story about the two of you having an agreement."

  "You knew that wasn't real?"

  Honey smiled. "It was plain on your face."

  Bemused for a moment, Misty wondered if all his brothers had known he was just making up their involvement. Then she shook her head. "It doesn't matter. He kept me here because he was trying to take care of me – whether I wanted him to or not. He does that for everyone, Honey." She turned to face her sister, wanting her to understand. "Morgan is about the most giving, caring man I've ever met. That's why being a sheriff is so perfect for him. He loves taking care of other people's problems. He's a natural caregiver – though he'd choke if he heard me say that, and probably frown something fierce. He tries to hide his gentleness behind a big tough exterior."