She accelerated, pulling alongside Nate as she tapped lightly on her horn. She lowered the passenger-side window. Leaning to her right, she said, “I can make it home from here.”
Nate stuck his head out his window. “That’s all right. I’ll see you to your door.”
Before Morgan could reject his offer he drove off. When they reached Morgan’s street the solar lights she’d installed on the porch shone brightly in the darkness. Nate was out of his vehicle when she maneuvered under the carport and cut off the engine.
He opened her door and extended his hand, helping her to exit. “The bugs are vicious tonight,” he remarked, swatting at one that had flown too close to his face.
Morgan reached for her tote and handbag, then raced to the porch before she became a feast for the insects. She unlocked the screen door and then the inner door. Nate, who’d followed her, held the door open.
“Rasputin!” Morgan screamed when the cat launched himself at Nate. The cat stopped short of attacking Nate’s leg, then sat, staring up at the tall man standing next to his mistress. The brilliance of the feline’s eyes was reflected in the light coming from a table lamp.
“What the hell…” Nate swore under his breath. “You didn’t tell me you had an attack cat.”
She dropped her handbag and tote. “He’s more a scaredy-cat than an attack one. He runs every time someone comes to visit. My nieces and nephews have never seen him because he hides as long as they’re here.”
Hunkering down, Nate picked up the kitten, who continued to give him the evil eye. “Please don’t tell me your mama named you after the mad monk.”
“He’s a Russian Blue shorthair.”
“Just because he’s Russian doesn’t mean you should’ve given him the name of a crazy man.”
Morgan couldn’t believe Rasputin had permitted Nate to hold him. The kitten bared his teeth and claws whenever she took him to the vet for his checkups. “I didn’t want to name him Boris, Ivan, Nicholas, or Alexander, so I thought Rasputin suited his fickle personality.”
Nate ran a finger over the cat’s head. “He could’ve been Peter the Great.”
“Peter’s too common. And who ever heard of a cat named Peter?”
Rasputin purred softly. “Yeah, I know, Blue. You’re neurotic because you were saddled with a name that makes everyone believe you’re crazy. I should kidnap you and bring you to the shop, because every once in a while we have field mice that come to visit because of the wood shavings.”
Morgan held out her arms. “Give me back my cat. You’re not taking him anywhere.”
Nate dropped a kiss on the cat’s soft fur. “You’ve got a selfish mama, but don’t worry, Blue, when I come back for a visit we’ll have to talk over a few things. And when you’re ready to have a girlfriend I know one you’re going to like.” He placed the purring cat into Morgan’s outstretched arms.
“I don’t plan to mate him.”
“Come on now, Mo. Do you think that’s fair?”
“What’s not fair is having stray cats running around the island.”
“My sister has a short-haired cat that looks a lot like Rasputin. I’m certain if they were bred they would have a litter of adorable kittens.”
“What breed is she?”
“I think she’s called a Snowshoe.”
Morgan knew exactly the breed of cat Nate was talking about. When she’d decided she wanted a cat, it had taken months of research before she’d settled on the Russian Blue. The Snowshoe would’ve been her second choice. And because the breeds weren’t widely known, their price tag made them affordable only to an exclusive club of cat owners.
“I’ll have to see her before I decide to introduce Ras to her.”
The clock on the parlor table chimed the hour. Dipping his head, Nate pressed his mouth to Morgan’s cheek. “It’s getting late. I’ll see you sometime tomorrow.”
Morgan stared up at him, committing everything about his face to memory. “Call me before you come.”
He nodded. “Good night and thank you for dinner. I’ll be certain to return the favor.” Turning, he opened the door and closed it softly behind him.
“Good night,” she whispered.
She hadn’t realized she’d been holding her breath until she locked the door. When she’d gotten up earlier that morning Morgan never would’ve predicted how the day would end. Nate had agreed to re-create the slave village, he wanted her to decorate his apartment, she’d agreed to accompany him to Happy Hour, and her pet had bonded with another human being, something he’d never done.
Perhaps Ras knew that his mistress cared for Nate more than she was willing to admit.
Sitting on his sister’s enclosed back porch, Nate watched lightning illuminate the darkening late afternoon sky. He was house-sitting. The Millses had embarked on their annual road trip, this year stopping in Colonial Williamsburg, Washington, D.C., and Philadelphia.
He’d begun spending several nights at the barn, sleeping on an air mattress. He was still awaiting Morgan’s call about when she would come by to see the apartment and get decorating ideas. As promised, he’d stopped by her office and repaired the showerhead. Unfortunately, he hadn’t been able to return the favor of buying dinner for her because she was in a meeting with her project manager. However, she’d stepped away to tell him that whenever she was able to clear her calendar she would call him.
Nate caught movement out of the corner of his eye seconds before Sharon’s cat sprang up from the floor and settled down on the cushion beside him. His sister liked cats, whereas he was partial to dogs. After his divorce, he’d regretted moving into a complex that wouldn’t allow pets of any kind, but he planned to get a dog in the coming months.
Running his fingers over the soft shorthair, he thought about Morgan’s cat. She may have named him for a Russian monk and purported mystic, but he thought Big Blue was a much more suitable name for the exquisite feline. Another flash of lightning lit up the sky, and Patches meowed softly as she slipped onto his lap.
“It’s just a little lightning,” he cooed, hoping to soothe the agitated cat. Mother Nature was putting on her own light show, although there was no thunder or rain.
He shifted, attempting to get into a more comfortable position. Nate felt a restlessness he hadn’t experienced since his return. Perhaps it had something to do with his finishing the barn’s construction and needing another challenge. He’d installed kitchen appliances and the bathroom’s plumbing fixtures. All that remained was to decorate the two bedrooms, the living and dining area, and the kitchen and bathrooms.
A wry smile tilted the corners of his mouth. It would be the first time he would live in a home that would suit his personal tastes. When he’d attended college, he’d lived with his aunt, then it was motels and furnished apartments when he worked for contractors and developers. Once he married Kim, it was the mansion her father had given them as a wedding gift. Not only was the ten-thousand-square-foot house much too large for two people, but its furnishings were as ostentatious as their over-the-top lifestyle. And after the divorce, it was another furnished apartment.
Living above the workshop was a win-win situation. There was no commuting to his place of business, and he could work at odd hours without disturbing anyone. When he’d decided to restructure Shaw & Sons Woodworking, Inc., he’d also revised the hours of operation. After he conferred with Bryce, they’d decided to begin their workday at six in the morning and end at two in the afternoon, when daytime temperatures reached their zenith. This arrangement suited his brother because he had most of the afternoon and evening to himself.
Bryce had revealed that he’d reconciled with his longtime girlfriend, who’d ended their relationship following his arrest. The elementary school teacher had convinced him to reenroll in college so that he could finish the twenty-two credits he needed to earn his degree. His brother had spoken to his probation officer, who would have to approve his leaving the island to attend classes at the College of Charlest
on. Nate was relieved that Bryce was finally getting his life back on track.
Another flash of lightning lit up the sky, and Patches stood up, arching her back. It was obvious the cat was feeling the effects of the approaching storm. She jumped off the love seat and hid under a corner table. Nate remembered the storms that swept across the island when he was a child. His mother would gather him and his sister in her bed, where she would read to them to take their minds off what was going on outside the house. It wasn’t until years later that he suspected Manda was more frightened of the storms than her children were.
Sinking lower on the love seat, Nate wondered what Morgan was doing. Was she sitting on her porch with her cat, watching the lightning display? Was she out on a date? Or was she home working well into the night on the restoration project? It’d been more than a week since he’d last seen her, and he couldn’t get the images of her dimpled smile and the sound of her sultry voice out of his mind.
His cell phone vibrated on the table next to where he sat. Picking it up, he punched in his pass code. “Nate here,” he drawled—his usual greeting.
“Hello, Nate, this is Morgan. I’m sorry I didn’t get back to you before—”
“There’s no need to apologize,” he said, interrupting her and sitting up straight. It was as if thinking about Morgan had conjured her up.
“I did promise to get back to you before now.”
He smiled. “Whatever you were occupied with had to be more important than looking at my place.” A throaty chuckle came through the earpiece.
“Now who’s being self-deprecating?”
Nate felt properly chastised when he remembered accusing Morgan of being self-deprecating. “That’s something I’ve never been accused of.”
There was a distinct pause before Morgan said, “I didn’t call about your apartment, but to ask you if you wanted to go to Happy Hour with me.” Nate clenched his teeth to keep from shouting for joy at the same time he pumped his free fist. “I know, the weather looks bad, but I figured it would keep a lot of folks from coming out.”
“You’re probably right about that. What time do you want me to pick you up?”
“Eight is good. I’ll call Jesse and tell him to save us a table.”
“I’ll see you at eight.”
“Thanks, Nate.”
He shook his head. “No, Mo. I should be the one thanking you.”
She laughed again. “What if we thank each other?”
“That’ll work.” Nate ended the call, then stared at the time on the phone’s display. It was after five, and that meant in less than three hours he would see Morgan again. It had been a long time since he’d felt this excited about seeing a woman.
Chapter Seven
Morgan sat on the porch swing with her eyes closed and took a deep breath. Her stomach was doing flip-flops. She was going out on a date with Nate, and if she didn’t steady her nerves she was certain to have a meltdown. First things first. She had to decide what to wear. It should be feminine but not too sexy, and her makeup had to be subtly dramatic.
Get a grip, Mo. Everything is going to work out just fine. Counting slowly to ten, Morgan managed to listen to her inner voice long enough to gather her wits. All she had to do was let everything unfold naturally.
She couldn’t hide the fact that she was anxious to get in touch with Nate after spending four hectic days in New York City looking at wallpaper patterns. Her usual vendor had closed up shop without notifying her, and when she called a shop in Atlanta the proprietor told her the patterns she’d inquired about had been discontinued.
Morgan realized that wallpaper was nearly passé when it came to decorating residential interiors. However, there were textile companies that continued to manufacture it for commercial clients. She’d made the rounds to several firms until she finally found what she wanted.
Once the workmen began stripping the walls at Angels Landing, she realized that the layers of wallpaper were so dry and rotted it was impossible to distinguish one pattern from another, so she decided to choose a new pattern that resembled that of the last layer, a velvet-flocked damask. Fortunately, she found samples and colors that would complement the furnishings in the mansion. She’d taken photos of the samples with her digital camera, left her business card with the salesman, who’d patiently answered all her questions, and promised she would get back to him once she reached a decision.
She was exhausted after walking all over Manhattan looking for materials. And because she hadn’t booked a return flight, she had to take a red-eye, arriving in Charleston at four in the morning. She fell asleep in the taxi on the ride back to Cavanaugh Island and didn’t wake up until the driver stopped in front of her house.
After a quick shower, she crawled into bed and fell asleep again. The telephone woke her sometime after three in the afternoon. It was Irene, checking to see whether she’d arrived home safely. She’d suspected her sister wanted to bring Rasputin back because she wasn’t overly fond of cats. Morgan would’ve left her pet with Rachel if she hadn’t been pregnant. Rachel’s obstetrician had cautioned her not to come into contact with a cat’s litter box because of possible harm to her unborn baby.
She’d retrieved the office’s voice mail and there was a message from Kara, asking to meet her Monday morning for breakfast. After Irene dropped off Rasputin, Morgan called Francine to see whether she wanted to hang out at Happy Hour, but her friend declined, saying she had plans to meet her grandmother. So then Morgan called Nate.
She knew she’d piqued Jesse’s curiosity when she asked her cousin to reserve a table for two but wouldn’t tell him whom she was bringing. There was no doubt many would be surprised, if not shocked, to see her and Nate together, but she was past caring what people said about her. Surviving a hellish adolescence had taught her that sticks and stones might break her bones but names would never hurt her. It had taken a while, but she was now immune to disparaging remarks.
It had taken a long time, but she’d come to accept what she wasn’t able to change. Morgan wasn’t as secure as she let on, but that was something she would never reveal to anyone; it probably would take the rest of her life to feel completely comfortable when interacting with the opposite sex. Pushing off the swing, she went inside the house to prepare for an evening with a man who was unaware that a teenage infatuation was back, and this time it was stronger than it had been then—what seemed like a lifetime ago.
When Nate maneuvered up to Morgan’s house and saw her rise from where she’d been sitting on the front porch waiting for him, his foot hit the brake so hard that the truck skidded to a sudden stop. In that instant he would’ve actively campaigned for her to win the title of sexiest woman alive. Slipping out from behind the wheel, he met Morgan as she approached him.
Reaching for her hands, he kissed her fingers. “You look incredible.”
The off-the-shoulder dress, patterned in vertical black-and-white stripes, hugged her body like a second skin. His gaze moved slowly from her face to her feet, encased in a pair of black-and-white pin-striped stilettos. He stared at the smoky shadow on her lids, which made her large, dark eyes appear mysterious, before letting his gaze slip down to the shimmering raspberry lip gloss that highlighted her sensual mouth.
Morgan smiled and lowered her lashes. “Thank you.”
Tucking her hand into the bend of his elbow, he led her around to the passenger side of the Sequoia. Opening the door, he caught her off guard when his hands went around her waist, lifting her effortlessly. Her arms looped around his neck as he set her on the leather seat. Morgan’s eyes appeared abnormally large in the glow coming from the porch lights and lanterns lighting the path leading to the house.
“Thank you,” Morgan repeated.
Waiting until she was belted in, he came around the SUV and took his seat behind the wheel. Nate wanted to tell himself that he wasn’t affected by Morgan, but that would be a lie. There had been women before and after his marriage, yet he hadn’t thought about any of
them as often as he thought of Morgan. It hadn’t even been that way with Kim.
“I’m sorry for calling you at the last minute,” Morgan said apologetically as he backed out of the driveway.
He gave her a quick glance. “I’m glad you called. I would’ve spent the night hanging out with my sister’s cat.”
“At least she’s a female.”
Nate smiled. “You’re right about that. But she’s the wrong species.”
Morgan stared through the windshield. “That’s where we differ. I enjoy Rasputin’s company.”
“More than that of a man?”
“Now you sound like my sisters.” There was an accusatory tone in the statement.
Downshifting, he turned onto the road leading to the club. “Why? What do they say?”
“They tease me about growing old in a house filled with cats instead of a husband and kids.”
Nate’s chuckle reverberated inside the vehicle. “I don’t see you that way at all.”
“How do you see me, Nate?”
“You’re going to marry a man who will love everything about you, and the two of you will share a house with at least three kids and several cats and dogs.”
It was her turn to laugh. “You left out the white picket fence.”
“That, too.”
“Is that what you wanted when you married?” Morgan asked him.
Nate exhaled an audible breath as he concentrated on navigating the dark roadway.
“It was, but I knew within minutes of exchanging vows I wasn’t going to get it.”
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