Legally in Love Boxed Set 1

by Jennifer Griffith

  Josh nodded, and Morgan silently exhaled in relief. She’d done it. She’d said what she meant to say, and it came out pretty much the way she’d hoped it would.

  “I’m not against that way, Morgan. But you’re right. In our case it would complicate things too much. We still have to make a major decision, and one choice would require staying away from each other’s beds so our annulment could go through. Otherwise, messy divorce, Seagram looking even worse, losing other people’s trust, you not being the woman you want to be for the man you’ll ultimately love.” Josh kept his eyes on the road through all this, and what he said made perfect sense. All the reasons.

  Why did they come accompanied by a poison dart?

  “You’re so right,” was all she could say. And then her mouth was talking before her head was thinking. “But the other choice might be all right, too. I mean, we are legally wedded.”

  Josh’s head whipped toward her, and the wheel jerked a bit on the car. Dishes from the picnic lunch clinked in the bag on the back seat of the Mangusa. “Trust me, I’ve given that some careful thought as well.”

  He had?

  ∞∞∞

  Two entire seasons of a classic cop drama on streaming video later, on a TV they found in the attic and dragged to the library, and sixty-three rounds of poker in which Morgan beat him fifty times, Morgan and Josh emerged from their television and snack food coma into the light of the beach on Thursday afternoon.

  “You really are the poker player you claimed you were.”

  Morgan blushed at the memory of her flirtatious challenge on the day they paid their tuition. “You remember that?”

  “I remember a lot of things.” Josh raised an eyebrow. “Like how irritated I got when other guys gave you the once-over.”

  “I recall you giving me the once-over more than once.”

  “Maybe so, but it was my right.” He helped her over a boulder and they headed down onto Cannon Bay’s beach. Morgan got a warm rush thinking he’d been possessive of her right out of the gate.

  “You’re going to teach me to hunt agates, right?”

  “Right.” Morgan was wearing her down jacket, as the weather had gone cold again. Josh looked freezing in his plain hoodie sweatshirt, but he was an Oregon boy. He knew what the weather was like out here. “Now, we’re going to look for them up here near the edge where the driftwood collects.”

  “Why here?” He seemed genuinely interested. That was something she’d come to really appreciate about Josh the past few days. When he wanted to know something new, he had a curious mind, and even better, he didn’t mind letting her be the one to tell him about something she was already up on. He didn’t have to be a know-it-all. That was the thing she’d noticed about really smart people: the ones who seemed to know the most, like Josh, were almost never the ones who acted like it all the time.

  “Because agates come from erosion of cliffs along beaches and rivers. They wash out to the ocean and get polished in the surf over time. Then they come back in the tides and get caught here at the edge of the waves by the driftwood. Winter is the best time to collect them.”

  “But the ones you gave my sister?”

  “I found those over the summer. They were nice. I got lucky. The better agates get exposed when winter storms remove the sand and expose the agates underneath.”

  “Amazing.”

  “I know, right? God thought of everything.”

  “Well, that, too, but I meant you.” Josh’s words sucked the breath out of her lungs.

  “You did?”

  He just smiled. “Mm-hmm.” His eyes crinkled at the edges. “Now, where’s my bucket? I’m getting some agates.”

  “Only a gallon a day. Oregon State Beach rules.”

  “A gallon!”

  “I know. Probably impossible.”

  “Girl, I am far lazier than that. The only gallon bucket I’m thinking of filling is one from Kentucky Fried Chicken. Hey. Do you think they’d take agates as barter payment?”

  They set to work, finding large and small specimens of the smooth, transparent stones. Mostly they found white, but then Morgan found a light blue one and a yellow, and then Josh came up with a rare pink. They had about a cup and a half at this point—nowhere near a gallon.

  “Those waves look too cold to take pictures in.” She stood with her hands in her jacket pockets to keep warm.

  Josh came and stood beside her, and they looked out at the gray, winter curves breaking on the water, side by side, so close she could hear his breathing. “Much. But don’t tempt me to throw you in, because I’m easily tempted.”

  “Is that right?” Morgan laughed. Ugh! That stupid little twittering laugh again. She stopped it short. “I just die every time I see those pictures over that bed. If I were doing home decorating, I’d choose something so much more tasteful than that.”

  “You would? I think it’s hot.”

  “Exactly.”

  Then he laughed and pushed her upper arm. She pushed back, and then—no dummy— she ran away from the direction of the waves, up the embankment toward the car, while he chased her. Not until nearly the top did he tackle her.

  “You made me spill my agates!” she squealed.

  “You’re going to make me—” He stopped short, and Morgan looked up to see a big black camera lens in their faces. Josh jumped to his feet and pulled Morgan up. “Paulie, get a life. Don’t you have a life? Why do you want to follow around a happily married pair of students with nothing to their name?”

  “That’s not what I hear, Joshie boy.”

  “Which part isn’t what you hear?” Morgan challenged, surprised at her own impetuousness.

  “The happily married couple part. I caught you coming out of the police station with another woman on Christmas Day, Josh. You know that part. What’s wrong in your fairy tale marriage to this walking, talking cover model that you’d need another girl on the side? Or are you just a glutton for women?”

  “Please, Paulie. Be a man. Look, I’ll introduce you. This is Morgan, my wife.”

  “Pleased to meet you,” Morgan said, extending her hand. “How’s your family? Are you enjoying your stay in Starry Point?”

  Paulie gave a momentary stare at the extended hand, paused, wiped his palm on the front of his plaid shirt, and then shook it. “Charmed, Mrs. Hyatt. You come from around here?”

  “Don’t answer that, Morgan.” Josh’s voice came out wary.

  “I’m just here for school. I’m nearly finished.”

  “What, in fashion merchandising?”

  “What’s that? Does Clarendon College even have a department like that?”

  “You just look like the type.” Paulie had a perpetual sneer, and Morgan felt a twinge of pity for him.

  Josh didn’t like the guy, clearly. “Morgan is not a type. She’s a real woman, with a real brain, and real feelings. She’s a good person, and she’s someone I care about a lot, and someone you’d really like if you weren’t so busy trying to make a buck off her. Can’t you get a job doing something that doesn’t destroy people’s peace, man?” Josh’s words ricocheted around in Morgan’s mind and heart. He cared about her a lot. He didn’t say loved, but he would have been reticent with this vulture. Morgan is not a type. She’s a good person. Josh’s assessment of her tumbled through her, giving her warmth and peace.

  “Nothing that pays as well.” Paulie laughed without mirth, and Morgan felt even sorrier for him—until he spoke again, that was. “And you said you cared a lot about her. Not loved. So I’m taking that as proof positive for my article.” He had a laugh like Skeletor’s this time. “See you later, sucker. Despite the frolicking in the sand dunes pics in this batch here,” he patted his camera, “I know this girl isn’t the woman you love. Your real girlfriend’s best friend put me onto that weeks ago. I’ve just hit pay dirt.” Again with the Skeletor laugh. It bored a hole in Morgan’s soul, letting her peace drain out.

  “It’s not true, Paulie. I do love her. Now take that t
o the bank.”

  Paulie dashed away, as Josh chased after him, but Morgan stood paralyzed by what she’d just heard. He loved her! Josh had said it at last. Morgan’s knees went a little weak, and she had to catch her breath against the thousand tingling points of her skin and mind and soul. He loved her. Did he mean it? Or did he just say it to get Paulie off his back? He had to mean it. Everything he’d done this past while served as evidence.

  Morgan collected herself, bent and began picking up the spilled agates one by one, until Josh had chased Paulie out to the parking lot and had come back for her.

  “You do?”

  “Do what?” He was breathless, himself, from the obvious exertion. Maybe he punched the guy. Morgan didn’t want to know. “Do think Paulie Bumgartner is a total bum? Yes. Yes, I do.”

  Morgan sighed. He wasn’t going to read her meaning, and she was still left in suspense, too frightened of the real answer to press him. “Thanks for getting rid of him. I tried my best to be polite.”

  “I know you did. And your charm works on every living soul.”

  “Not Paulie Bumgartner’s.”

  “His soul isn’t living. It’s been dead and gone to Hades for decades.”

  “Gotcha.” Morgan took Josh’s offered hand as they crossed the parking lot with their buckets of agates and went home.

  ∞∞∞

  Josh was shaving when his phone chimed a text in the other room.

  Brielle: It’s New Year’s Eve, Josh. I will be watching for you tonight. Wear something red. Well, a red tie. Claire’s colors are red and green to be festive. See you. XoXo

  Josh dropped the phone like it was a hot potato. Was it New Year’s Eve already? Where had this week gone? Oh, yeah. The beach, whale watching, and the way of all the world: deep into a TV-induced vegetative state. Josh felt more rested than he had in months, years. Being around Morgan was so relaxing. She was easygoing and went with whatever. She liked the TV show he picked, and then he hadn’t minded the one she chose—it was pretty funny. They’d thrown popcorn in each other’s mouths, and she’d only been uptight about making sure not to leave anything extra for Svetlana to clean up.

  And he’d been a very good boy—even when she came down last night in her little, short pajamas to watch the last episode of the legal drama they were both really into. He hadn’t touched her leg, even when it was just inches away, taunting him, basically. Man, his wife was something hotter than fire. But he didn’t dare get burned. Not until he was sure.

  And now, the day was here when he had to be sure—and declare it one way or another.

  If he knew what was going on in Morgan’s mind, it would make it a little clearer to decide. If she wasn’t at all serious about him anymore it would make it a lot easier for him to walk away—maybe. The truth was, every day with her, he’d dug in a little deeper. Or maybe she’d dug a little deeper, burrowing into his soul. Walking away at this point was going to require some pain. He’d only be able to do it if…

  “Hey, Josh.” Morgan bounced in. Her hair was in a ponytail and she wore her workout clothes. He hadn’t seen her in them since that day they went to the bank to put their names on the joint checking account—the same bank where their hundred thousand dollar scholarship lay untouched.

  He could have Morgan and the hundred grand, too, if he chose them.

  “Hey, Morgan.” He tore his eyes back up to her face.

  “What’cha looking at?”

  “I can look at my wife.”

  “Good point.” She pulled a little smile at him, and her voice did that little flirty laugh he couldn’t resist. “I’m back from my run. Did you want to tell me what’s going on tonight, so I know how to dress?”

  Josh stared at her, not sure how to answer. He had to see Brielle. And that was extremely inconvenient, especially considering the deadline. The clock on the wall ticked audibly.

  “Uh, didn’t you say tonight was our night on the town?” She did finger quotes. He vaguely remembered that phrase, and he definitely remembered now that he had two dates for New Year’s Eve. “If you don’t mind loaning them back to me—just until you’re sure—I’d be honored if I could wear your mother’s ruby necklace. After all, that was part of the original plan, right?” Morgan suddenly pulled a nervous smile. “Uh, maybe I could put them with the red dress. You liked that dress when I wore it to Mr. Seagram’s house that night for dinner, I think.”

  Oh, yeah. He liked it. Probably way too much. Oh, his head might be starting to hurt. He rubbed his hand up and down the cheek he hadn’t shaved yet. “Red will be perfect.”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Morgan fidgeted with the zipper on her red dress. She could get it before, but today the top few inches wouldn’t quite go up. “Josh, can you help me with this part?” She had to ask him. She didn’t have any choice. It was either get some help or go out on their night together partially unzipped.

  Josh came up behind her. While she lifted her hair he slowly raised the zipper, his fingertips caressing the back of her neck. When he finished, she turned her head to see if he had that wicked grin he got whenever he was thinking about kissing her.

  But instead she saw pain.

  “Are you all right, Josh?” She turned around and took his hands in hers. With her heels on, she was just a few inches shorter than he was, and she could look him almost right in the eye. He seemed far away.

  “Morgan, I’m really sorry.”

  “Sorry about what?”

  “Sorry about what I’ve done to us.”

  Morgan laughed a little. “What have you done to us, Josh? Made us lazy couch-dwellers for the entirety of our Christmas vacation? Because I can’t think of anything I needed more after months of being under the academic gun.” She slid her arms around his waist. “You gave me exactly what I needed. Like always.”

  Josh’s face got even more clouded.

  “Okay, so what is it? You’re not happy. Don’t you want to go out tonight? Because if you’d rather, I can dial back my New Year’s Eve excitement and we can just stay home. But, I mean, this is our last night—before we have to report back to Mr. Seagram in the morning. I just thought—” She’d thought she’d like to go out with a blaze of glory before the pretty dream had to end, when he went back to Brielle and she went back to Estrella Court and roller skating and quitting school and groveling before Carl’s feet, just so she could begin paying back all the grants she’d be forced to repay.

  Josh took Morgan’s hands from his waist and pulled her over to sit down beside him on the bed. He looked more serious than she’d ever seen him look, and a sinking heat flared in her stomach.

  “We’ve needed to have a frank discussion for a long time, Morgan. And since we’ve been given an ultimatum, I don’t know how I can let us put it off any longer.”

  Frank discussion sounded like a blessed relief, but with the look on Josh’s face, Morgan thought she dreaded it more than a final she hadn’t studied for, which was kind of what this was. She had no experience with this level of a relationship before in her life. She was unstudied and unready and unbraced for it. But like a scheduled train it was coming anyway, and Morgan panicked.

  “Josh! Before you say anything, I want to tell you—thank you. You’ve made my life blessed. For the first time, I had someone to wake up to, someone to sit by in church, someone to talk to at night when my studies were done. You gave me a glimpse of how good life could be.”

  Josh’s face twisted, but she didn’t want to stop until she’d told him.

  “I’m not sorry one bit—about any of it, except maybe the sin of omission.”

  Josh cocked his head. “What does that mean?”

  “I mean when Mr. Seagram asked whether we loved each other and I didn’t answer. My silence was a lie.” Her voice caught in her throat, and she had to collect herself before going on. “If he’d asked it months ago, it would have been a lie to stay silent then, too. You’ve been in my heart ever since you helped rescue my mother’s dog f
rom certain death. Then you saved me time and time again, even if it meant we dragged each other into the mess we’re in now. I wouldn’t trade a single minute of it.”

  Josh closed his eyes, and he looked like he’d stopped breathing. Morgan had done it. She’d ripped her heart out of her chest and thrown it palpitating at his feet, to either pick up and cherish or stomp on and walk away. He wasn’t moving—physically or otherwise. Morgan bated her own breath, terrified of what he might choose next. But it had been too long coming, and she’d never dared do it before. She had to now. The moment was upon them. And she refused to let him slip away simply because she wasn’t brave enough to admit how much she wanted him.

  “I want you, Josh. I want us. Together. I’m in love with you, and even if I didn’t start out intending for this to happen, it’s what my secret heart has wished for all along.” Every tendril of her soul stretched out to him. He had to feel her aching for him. With courage, she lifted her hand and reached over and intertwined her pinkie finger among his fingers. “I love you.” This last came in a longing whisper.

  Josh’s eyes popped open and met hers at last. A hopeless smile pulled at the side of his mouth. “Oh, Morgan.” The words were almost inaudible.

  “What, Josh? What? Say it. Tell me what you feel. Don’t leave me suspended in agony here.” Tears were welling hot in her eyes, and they’d mar her makeup soon for their date on the town, which Morgan swiftly began to understand was not going to happen. From the look on Josh’s anguished face, it was over.

  “Please, Josh. Please.” The first hot tear spilled, and she felt it burn a trail down her cheek.

  Josh flopped back on the bed, kicking off his shoes. Morgan lay down beside him, reaching out and pressing her hand to his upper arm. She kissed his forehead, which he’d done to her so many times before. With tenderness filling her heart as she did so, she recognized the sincere emotion that accompanied a kiss such as that. She’d always received that kind of kiss from Josh with mild disappointment, but now she saw how filled with true feeling it could be.