Protective: Legatum - Book 1

by Sylvian, LuLu M

  “Of course, I’ll stay.” Morgan leaned forward and kissed Honey on the top of her head, careful to avoid her battered forehead. “Sleep well. You’re safe.”

  16

  Honey relaxed in the overstuffed chair at the coffee shop, deep in conversation with Finney.

  “Morgan!” Finney called out. “I haven’t seen you around here for a while.”

  Her breath caught in her chest as their eyes met. Morgan, the man who wore work pants, a plaid shirt, and had hid his face under a scraggly beard the first time she met him, took her breath away. He still wore the plaid Honey had a hard time seeing past, but there were changes now. Under the flannel shirt, open like a jacket, he wore a form-fitting T-shirt that displayed his defined pecs. The cargo pants were gone. Now he wore jeans that showed off just how long his legs really were. His shaggy hair had grown into long curls that brushed his collar, and his chiseled jaw line and square chin were covered in a delectable even growth of stubble that made him appear sexy and fierce.

  “Finney,” Morgan reached out a hand to shake Finney’s in greeting. “Yeah, I was gone for a couple of weeks. Good to see you again.” He turned to Honey and held his hands up in a presentation gesture. “I am on time.”

  Honey giggled, color tinging her cheeks pink in a slight blush. “Yes, you are. Finally.” She stood and slung her purse over her shoulder. “See ya’ later, Finney.” She grabbed Morgan’s hand.

  As they turned to leave, Finney pointed and asked “You two?”

  Honey nodded.

  “Lucky girl,” Finney muttered not too quietly as they left.

  “I need to feed Calliope. Mind if I drive?” Honey felt giddy in Morgan’s presence. It felt as if gravity had forgotten about her. Last night he’d saved her and comforted her. Tonight she planned for a repeat of that kiss that burned her soul—and possibly more.

  Honey parked across the street from her building. A small moving van blocked her normal spot.

  “I have to take care of the litter box too. Want to come in?” she asked, gathering her belongings to get out of the car.

  “Sure.” Morgan followed her across the street.

  They stepped through the outer door into the entry hall. Honey stopped to retrieve her mail.

  She saw him looking at the lock. “What’s up?”

  He pointed at the paint chipped around the latch, exposing wood. “Honey, are these scratches new? Where they here before?”

  “I don’t think so. I don’t remember the door looking like that.”

  “Hmm.” Morgan pushed at the door into the building with his finger. The door swung open. He ran his finger over the latch. Honey saw electrical tape covering the catch.

  Holding one hand, out he said, “Give me your keys.”

  She placed them in his palm.

  Morgan stepped into the hallway. He stopped at the door to the front apartment. Honey watched as he ran his hands around the seam where door met jam. He knocked then tested the handle. The door was safely locked. Honey’s door, however, did not appear to be in the same condition. From where she stood in the hall, she could see the door to her apartment stood open.

  Honey started to step quickly around Morgan. He caught her with an arm around her waist. “Stay behind me.”

  Morgan walked slowly, stepping carefully as he approached Honey’s door. He stopped outside the door, listening for any sound that might come from the apartment. He gently eased the door open further.

  Honey started as a horse-headed figure passed her large-screen TV through the back window to a pair of arms reaching in. “No!”

  Surprised, the burglars dropped the television. Honey watched as it slid, in slow motion, out the window and crashed to the ground, breaking the window on its way out. The thief who had been in her living room jumped out the broken window.

  Morgan turned and bolted out the front door.

  Honey ran to the window and looked out in shock, looking down at her destroyed TV lying in shattered pieces on the ground below her. “My TV!” Honey yelled, her voice full of disbelief.

  Morgan returned. “I didn’t catch them. They must have run behind or into another building. I thought they might have taken off in that moving van, but it’s still there.”

  “Oh my God! Calliope!” She frantically looked around for the small cat.

  Morgan helped in the search for the cat. “Where does she normally hide?”

  “Behind that.” Honey pointed to a shelf unit that had been knocked over.

  Honey’s apartment hadn’t merely been burgled, it had been trashed. Shelves knocked out of place. Books and DVDs littered the floor. Her TV stand had been upended. Couch cushions were strewn on the floor. The kitchen had been equally destroyed.

  “You keep looking. I’ll call the police.” Morgan pulled the detective’s card from his wallet and dialed the number.

  While Morgan described the situation to the police, Honey located Calliope under her bed. The cat was safe and still inside. Honey left Calliope to cower on her own. Attempting to hold and snuggle the cat could result in a set of claw marks down her arm, and that was on a good day. It was safer for Honey to let the cat be. Morgan stepped into her room to tell her the police were on their way, and to not pick anything up for the moment. They wanted her to start making a list of what had been taken. Honey sat, despondent, her normally tidy home had been completely ransacked.

  “How am I even supposed to know what’s missing in this mess?”

  Morgan sat down next to her, and put an arm around her shoulder.

  They sat like that until the door buzzer sounded.

  Morgan got up then held out a hand to help Honey up. Hand in hand they walked to the door.

  “Miss Gould?” A uniformed police officer asked, pushing on the door to Honey’s apartment. “Honey Gould? Like golden hu—”

  “Now’s not the time for that,” Morgan growled, cutting off the officer’s commentary on her name.

  “Yeah. Come on in.” Honey reached the door as the officer and the detective from the previous night entered.

  “You’re having a string of bad luck, aren’t you?” the detective said.

  The police poked around the apartment, asking questions. Morgan pointed out that the inner front door had been taped open.

  Honey stood in the middle of her apartment wiping tears from her cheeks. She told the detective everything as it had happened. Morgan checking the other apartment’s door after he noticed the front was unlocked. Her door being open. The guy in her living room wearing one of those horse head masks. Everything from watching her TV fall out the window to locating her scared cat under her bed. It felt like she answered the same questions over and over again. No, she did not yet have a list of what was missing. How would she know in this mess? The obvious things missing were the DVD player and the TV. No, she didn’t have expensive jewelry hiding in the bedroom. No, there was no reason to suspect that she would have been targeted. Anyone who knew her knew she had nothing worth stealing.

  After what felt like hours, the police left. Honey stood, numbly looking around.

  Morgan put the cushions back on the sofa, and guided her to sit. He knelt in front of her, “Honey, you need to call the landlord and let them know what happened. Okay?”

  She nodded.

  “Aarrggg.” She covered her face with her hands and yelled, “This is so fucked!” She looked up at Morgan still standing in front of her. “And I thought last night was a bad dream. I just want to go on a nice date with you. Is that too much to ask?”

  Morgan gave her a small pained grin. “I’m sorry. Does that Indian place of yours do take out? We can put in an order and eat here while we straighten up.”

  Honey sighed. “That sounds like a good idea, but the Chinese place delivers. How ’bout that instead?”

  “Sounds great.” Morgan stood and holding out a hand, he helped Honey up. “What’s the number? I’ll order. You call the landlord.”

  By the time the restaurant delivere
d their dinner, the landlord, a middle-aged woman dressed in expensive clothes and jewelry had arrived. The woman kept covering her mouth with long lacquered nails and fingers bedecked in rings as she took in the state of Honey’s apartment. The bigger pieces that had been knocked over had been righted by this time, but smaller objects were still strewn all over the floor.

  “I just don’t know who can come out this late to fix these things.” The landlord said as she looked at the damaged door lock and broken window. “Emergency locksmiths cost so much.”

  “I have a buddy from my job site who can come out and board up that window and bring a new lock for the door. The lock on the front door didn’t look like it needs replacing, but I’ll have him take a look. If it does, you’ll want to get a locksmith in to make sure it’s installed properly. And you’ll want new keys for everyone in the building.”

  “Just send me the receipts, and I’ll reimburse you. I’ll find someone in the morning who can take care of that broken window.”

  Morgan spoke on the phone again as the landlord left, assuring Honey that she would make sure everything was fixed.

  Mentally exhausted, Honey slumped onto her couch. She picked up a Chinese food carton, a pair of chopsticks, and began eating noodles straight from the box. She stared into the empty space that had been occupied by her TV. She sighed. She faced hours of cleaning.

  “Okay, Jim is bringing by a board for that window and a new door lock and some tools.”

  Honey nodded.

  “We’ll get the repairs done tonight, so you’ll be able to lock up and be safe.”

  “Will you stay?” Honey asked pleadingly.

  “Of course. I’ll stay as long as you need me to.”

  Morgan sat, picking up another to-go container. He picked up a fork and began eating straight from the carton, as Honey did. Honey set the noodles down and selected another container. They ate dinner directly from the cartons, changing each time they wanted to eat something else.

  Morgan’s phone rang. He left Honey momentarily to let Jim in. Morgan helped him nail a plywood board to the window then replace Honey’s front door lock. While the men worked, Honey cleaned and added missing items to her list.

  “Woo hoo!” she called out in delight when she found her laptop. The thieves had not noticed her computer bag. Her MP3 player was safe too. Nothing from her bedroom was missing. She didn’t have expensive jewelry, but she had a few pairs of Louboutin shoes worth hundreds of dollars. She figured the thieves began trashing the place when they couldn’t find much worth stealing. Still, her TV was gone, and it would be almost a year before she could afford to buy another one of the same size. With her financial situation, it would be a few months before she could afford to purchase a new one at all. Honey finished straightening in her bedroom.

  “I’m beat,” she announced. “I don’t think I can do anymore tonight. I’m gonna crash.”

  “Sure. I’ll just let myself out when I’m finished in here.” Morgan said, sliding books back onto a shelf.

  “You said you could stay again tonight. I’d really be more comfortable knowing you’re here. I don’t want to think about those guys coming back. If I’m alone, I know I will.”

  “I’ll stay.”

  “Thank you.” She turned and closed her door.

  *

  Morgan awoke with a small warm weight on his chest. Calliope slept curled into a tight coil on top of his chest. He looked at her collar, the charm Honey had clipped to it for safe keeping was gone. He placed a hand on the cat, then slowly sat up, letting the now-awake cat jump to the floor. Honey emerged from her room. Her typically messy hair was now a riot of curls, frizz, and stray parts sticking out in every direction. She was beautiful, bed-head and bandaged forehead notwithstanding. His desire to wake next to her and see her all bed-rumpled looking up at him made him hard.

  “Good morning.” Her voice was low and groggy with sleep. Morgan watched as she shuffled to the kitchen. The refrigerator door opened then closed. Honey cussed, then the door opened and closed again.

  Honey stood in the middle of her living room, fighting back tears. “I have to go in and open. I have no food here. I was going to make a quick cup of coffee but, apparently, the coffeemaker is gone also.”

  “Do you have to go in?” Morgan asked.

  “At least, to open. I’ll call Lana and see if I can get off early. I have too much to do here still. But I really can’t afford to miss work, especially now that I have to replace all this stuff.”

  “Don’t you have renter’s insurance?” Morgan asked.

  “Nope.” Honey shook her head sadly. “That’s money I don’t have.”

  “I don’t have to be on the site today, so why don’t I stay here for you while you go to work. If you can’t get off, then I’m here for when the window gets fixed. And I can keep cleaning.”

  Honey glanced mournfully at Morgan, “You’d do that for me?”

  “I will do that for you.”

  *

  The café was slammed with business. Honey barely had time to stop and text Morgan that she would be stuck at work until her shift was over. She knew Morgan would put her kitchen back together just fine, but she was worried he would be bored being at her apartment all day. Lana ran the register while Honey filled orders and Joyce maintained the seating area, keeping it clean and well stocked. They were a fine oiled machine for coffee and customer service. Honey leaned over and plated one of Lana’s famous lemon bars. Drink and treat were placed on the counter under the “pick order up here” sign, Honey called out a name.

  She had her back to the customers, taking care of another drink order when she heard her name.

  “Honey,” Morgan’s deep voice rolled over her like a crashing wave. The instant thrill it gave her made Honey realize she had fallen for this guy. Fallen hard.

  “Morgan!” she called out over her shoulder. “You’re here. Is everything okay? Why are you here?” Concern replaced her thrill of talking to him.

  “Everything is fine. I walked down to pick up my bike. I know you said you were busy, but I wanted to say hi anyway.”

  “Hi,” she said then smiled.

  “Hi ya’, Morgaaan,” Lana leaned over, interjecting herself in their conversation.

  “Hi, Lana,” he replied, chuckling. He turned back to Honey.

  “I finished your bookshelves and have been avoiding the kitchen. I’ll work on that when I get back. Your landlady stopped by to see how things were. She said the window guys should be there this afternoon.” He raised his eyebrows. “I’ll see you when you get home?”

  “Yeah.” Honey couldn’t think. When you get home sounded so warm and wonderful coming from his lips.

  She paused to watch him leave before finishing the order she had been working on.

  “The flirt is strong in that one,” Lana said.

  “You like him again?” asked Honey.

  “I’ve always liked him. I was mad at him for hurting you but, clearly, you two have worked that out. And I am grateful for him being there to stop the mugger and for helping you out with the breakin.”

  “Thanks.” Honey blushed. Lana’s opinion meant a lot to Honey. Having Lana like Morgan made Honey think she was on the right track.

  The onslaught of customers did not ease as the day progressed. Honey was running the register when a cold chill ran down her spine. Bryce Maplecourt strode into The Corner as if he owned the place. Joyce had already gone home, and Lana was across the shop. If Honey called out to her, she would just be drawing Bryce’s attention. It was best to breathe deep and gird her loins.

  “Hello, Rachelle.” His voice felt like squeaking chalk on a blackboard. How had she ever considered it sexy?

  “What would you like, Bryce?” Honey kept her tone as flat as possible, not giving away any of the panic she felt.

  “A smile for starters.” Bryce dragged out the words, something he did when he thought he was being charming. He wasn’t charming.

  “N
o.”

  “The offer to take you back still stands. You could live in the luxury you belong in, the style you were once used to.” Bryce smirked. “I have a new large screen TV I think you might like.”

  Honey noticed Bryce’s hands were covered in fine scratches. Could Bryce have been involved with her breakin? She stared blankly at him. Show no emotion. Show no emotion, she repeated to herself.

  “You really should be more polite, or I will insist on speaking to the owner about your behavior.”

  Lana sidled up next to Bryce. “Can I help you?” Her purr made Bryce noticeably uncomfortable. Honey pursed her lips together to keep from smiling. Lana could be a trickster and she had targeted Bryce.

  “I doubt it,” Bryce sneered. “Are you another ineffectual employee here? Why don’t you—” He wiggled his fingers in a walking-away motion. “—go get your manager or the owner.”

  “Sure thing,” Lana said in a singsong voice She rolled her head, keeping her eyes on Bryce as she turned. She took one step away, turned around, and took one step back. Her voice dropped as she asked, “Can I help you?”

  Honey bit her lip to keep herself from sniggering at Lana’s antics.

  “Seriously are you all brain damaged? I told you to go get your boss.”

  Lana didn’t budge, all teasing gone from her demeanor. “That would be me. You are going to stop harassing my employee.” Lana stepped around behind the counter, nodding to Honey to get out of the way.

  Honey didn’t need to be told twice, she left for the office.

  *

  Honey pushed the button above her mailbox. Morgan had her keys for the day, so she needed to be buzzed into her own apartment. The buzzer sounded, and she pushed open the door. Morgan stood in the hall just outside of the apartment, a large grin on his face.

  “Welcome home.”

  “Hi, Morgan.” Honey sighed. It had been a long tiring day and that was the most wonderful thing she had heard all day. Morgan saying home to her. It felt right. Something smelled wonderful coming from her kitchen too. “Did you cook?”