Chapter 20
The optimistic, expectant grin written large on Morgan’s attractive face was never erased that entire night.
She awoke with the thrill and longing of a schoolgirl. The new day only made her want Travis Walker all the more. And with the morning sunlight beaming into her bedroom and the excitement of last night still coursing through her body, Morgan thought she smelled coffee.
Clad in a robe, she stepped into the hallway, where the pleasing aroma grew even stronger. Padding down the steps only confirmed its source. There in the kitchen, clad in work clothes and with a tool belt strapped about his waist, Travis Walker, her handyman in all things, was fixing breakfast.
“Who’ll break the eggs?” Morgan teased from the entryway.
“Oh, we already cracked the shells,” Travis grinned. “That’s what last night was all about. All we have to do now is scramble them.”
“Some peppers and onion might be nice,” Morgan offered, stepping toward him.
“Sure would,” he agreed. “Some cheese, too.”
“Quite the recipe,” she said, taking a knife to a green pepper.
“Guess we both like mixing things up.”
“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” Morgan said.
In the kitchen, with the wonderful morning scent of freshly brewing coffee permeating the outdated but sunlit space, Morgan watched as her bleary eyed children stumbled down for breakfast without being summoned.
The two sleepy faces wore puzzled expressions as they stared at their mother, working over the stove. The iron skillet in Morgan’s hand sizzled with frying butter. A nearby ceramic bowl held a mix of scrambled eggs, sliced green peppers, diced onion and grated feta cheese.
Morgan glanced at her bemused children and smiled.
“Mom?” Samantha asked, as if she were bearing witness to a mad woman.
“Looks like your mom’s doing some cooking,” Travis offered, by way of explanation. “Mind if I join you guys for breakfast before I get to work?”
“Sure,” Geoff answered. “But my mom doesn’t really cook. I’m not sure you’d want to eat it.”
“She looks like she knows what she’s doing,” Travis said, glancing at Morgan. “But what do you say we give her a hand?”
The three of them -- Samantha, Geoff and Travis -- gathered around Morgan near the old, soon-to-be-replaced kitchen island.
And unlike so many past manic mornings, she wasn’t hurrying for work. She wasn’t leaving breakfast for Ramona to fix. She wasn’t whizzing by her own children as if they were strangers. And she wasn’t wanting for a man’s attention.
Right then, in that shambles of a kitchen, Morgan Chase had it all.
All, except for a cup of coffee.
Morgan was no longer in overdrive, but she still needed her caffeine.
“Okay, you guys take over for a minute,” Morgan announced. “I’m going to get that coffee. Travis, you want a cup?”
“Read my mind.”
“How do you take it?”
“Black. Like my soul.” Travis affected a gravelly, ghoulish voice, and both of the kids laughed. Morgan cracked a crooked grin. This guy was something else, she thought.
She plucked two large mugs from the fluorescent green cupboards, and reached for the decanter from the coffee machine.
That’s when Morgan noticed the latest surprise to rock her world.
Morgan wasn’t sure what made her glance at it. Habit, perhaps. But whatever the impulse, she happened to catch a glimpse of her smartphone. It was there on the countertop, next to her keys. And a message was waiting.
She poured the coffee, and walked the first mug over to Travis.
“Thanks,” he said, while pouring the omelet mix into the sizzling skillet.
On her way back, Morgan discretely palmed her phone from the counter and slipped it into the pouch pocket of her robe. She fixed her own cup of coffee with a touch of cream and a pouch of Equal. When she finished, she took a careful sip, then turned her back to the otherwise-occupied chefs over by the stove and slyly checked the phone message.
The identification widened her eyes and quickened her pulse.
Darren Spencer had placed the call.
Indeed, her one-time lover and former administrative assistant owed her much more than a single voicemail. He owed her a full-on, detailed explanation of everything that occurred since their steamy one-night stand at the Sheraton.
And that was just for starters.
The fierce competitor and no-bullshit businesswoman inside Morgan wanted to pounce on this immediately. Those parts of her surged with the Darwinian impulse to immediately begin to get to the bottom of Darren’s mind-blowing betrayal. Indeed, the lure compelling Morgan to bolt from the kitchen and hole up in her bedroom making and taking calls was strong. The old Morgan wouldn’t have thought twice.
Yet, she did none of these things on this morning.
Instead, Morgan slipped the smartphone back into the pocket of her robe, with Darren’s mysterious message unchecked. She took another sip of coffee and padded back over to the stove, where the omelets were almost ready.
“So you managed to get out of cooking, after all,” Travis accused.
“See, I told you my mom doesn’t cook,” Geoff called in gotcha fashion.
Morgan shrugged a ‘no contest’ to the charges and her well-earned reputation among her children.
“What can I say? I need coffee to function.”
Morgan took another sip, as if to confirm this fact, and then set down her mug.
She passed plates that soon would be filled with homemade, secret-recipe omelets. The four of them would sit and talk and eat. And the lazy, still-awakening Saturday would be theirs to plan.
Oh, she would get around to listening to Darren’s message.
Morgan’s never-ending chase would inevitably continue.
But right then, on this perfect morning, the pendulum had swung and the tables had turned, if only for the moment.
Morgan’s personal life was, at this moment, a Norman Rockwell painting. It was her career that had disintegrated and descended into the heinous-looking Hieronymus Bosch.
And Morgan had yet to found the balance.
Perhaps, her ongoing quest for the professional woman’s Holy Grail of symmetry would be advanced by Darren Spencer’s unheard message. Perhaps not.
Morgan Chase would discover all of this. And more.
But not until after breakfast.
Perhaps, not until the end of what she hoped would be another long, wonderful day with Samantha, Geoff and Travis.
A day so perfect that every detail would be etched like engraved crystal into Morgan’s memory.
“Hey, wake up over there,” Travis snapped his fingers like a hypnotist bringing a patient out of a trance. “Do I have to cook, serve -- and remodel this kitchen? Or are you going to help us plate these omelets?”
For a second, Morgan was caught dumbfounded holding her stack of plates. Then, just as suddenly, she plunged back into the present. With her family. Alongside Travis.
In other words, right where she was meant to be.
“Yes, chef,” she barked. “Whatever you say, chef.”
And for one blessed day, that was as hurried and harried as it would get for Morgan Chase.
To Be Continued…
Dear Reader,
I hope you’ve enjoyed this special 30,000-word free preview of my exciting Morgan’s Chase series. The succeeding eight installments in the romantic and suspenseful Chase series await your discovery. Future books range in length from 33,000 words to 55,000 words, and are priced accordingly, between $1.99 and $3.49. I do hope you continue the Chase.
You have no idea where it goes next. And believe me, you ain’t seen nothing yet!
So start now. Don’t miss the shocking second chapter in Morgan’s Chase with Book #2 Tied Up & Twisted.
Love,
Lucy St. John
oks on Archive.
Morgan's Chase 1 (Power Play) Page 20
