The Right Thing

by McDonald, Donna

  “I’d like to help next time,” Pete said.

  Morgan nodded again. Looked like he would be training his replacement, Morgan thought, not as happy about the idea as he thought he might be.

  Amy came in, biting her lip and looking like she was about to cry.

  “What’s wrong?” Morgan demanded, concern making him forget what he was doing.

  “Some drunk guy grabbed me and now Thea’s locked in battle with the jerk,” she said. “Most people who come in here are nice. The guy’s had one beer too many and thinks he’s God’s gift to women. Thea just deals with it better than I do. I wish I was as tough as she is.”

  Morgan walked to the kitchen doors and looked out just in time to see a well-built young man put a hand on Thea’s rear as she set a beer in front of his tablemate. Two seconds later Morgan was striding out into the dining room, apron and all. He bent down to the man, trying to keep his voice as discreet as possible.

  “Hands off, kid. The lady’s ass isn’t on the menu,” Morgan said quietly to the man, ignoring the hand Thea placed reassuringly on his arm. “Touch her again, and I’ll break your arm.”

  “You and what army, old man,” the guy said, laughing. His tablemates laughed as well, but they were giving Morgan some considering looks. “Calm down. I wasn’t putting any real moves on her. I was just being friendly. Man, everyone in this town has a stick up their butt.”

  Still laughing, he reached up and put a hand on Morgan’s arm. A couple of seconds later, Morgan twisted the man’s arm behind his back and put the side of the man’s face into his plate of spaghetti. The restaurant went silent as Morgan just held him there for a couple of heartbeats without saying a word.

  Morgan leaned down to speak to the whole table. “I’m a federal agent, and if you drunks think you’re going to make a scene here tonight because you’re bored, think again. Now behave, or I’m calling the cops and pressing charges.”

  “Sorry man,” he squeaked. “I—sorry.”

  “Yeah, you are,” Morgan said, letting him go. “Keep your hands to yourself.”

  Then Morgan looked at Thea, who was frozen in place staring at him in disbelief. “Put their food on my tab, Thea. And if they give you any more grief, let me know.”

  He turned and walked back to the kitchen slowly, passing a now grinning Amy standing by the bar, and almost running over a smiling Pete just inside the doors.

  “I stirred the sauce,” Pete said, his mouth twitching.

  Morgan nodded.

  “Yeah,” he said to Pete, going back to plating the food. “I think I just did, too. We’ll find out how mad she is about it later.”

  “Hard to get mad at a hero,” Pete said with chuckle.

  Morgan picked up a roll and sent it flying like missile toward a laughing Pete, who caught it and ate it while Morgan watched.

  Thea came in a little later to get some teas. Morgan and Pete were both looking at her with restrained laughter in their eyes. It made her more uneasy than the drunks.

  “You know that what you just did will be gossip fodder all over town tomorrow,” Thea said sharply, looking at Morgan, who only shrugged.

  “Good. We need the publicity. Maybe we’ll hire drunks to come in for dinner more often. We can charge for the show,” Morgan told her. It was taking all his self-control not to smile.

  Thea swore softly, but succinctly, before busting out through the doors which swung madly behind her.

  “You know, Thea reminds me of John freaking Wayne every time she slaps those swinging doors,” Morgan said admiringly. “Hottest damn thing I ever saw a woman do. Turns me on every time.”

  Pete’s rolling laughter echoing off the kitchen walls was the second time the restaurant had gone quiet that night. But the men laughing in the kitchen didn’t even notice.

  Amy grinned at Thea, who was pulling beers and no doubt sighing over what the dinner patrons would be spreading around town about the restaurant tomorrow.

  “Wonder what was so funny in the kitchen?” Amy asked.

  “Who knows? They’re men,” Thea said lightly, not wanting to think too hard about why Morgan had intervened.

  God knew, Thea had handled plenty of drunks all by herself in the last ten years. Not that it hadn’t been satisfying to see the kid look at Morgan with some genuine fear.

  “I think I better plan on working the lunch rush tomorrow. I think people are going to be dropping back by just to see what’s up after tonight,” Amy said matter-of-factly, heading off into the crowd to serve the beers.

  Thea stood for a moment thinking about how easy and effortlessly Amy planned her life around the ebb and flow of the restaurant. She was finally seeing what Morgan and Lydia had been talking about.

  Amy cared more about the restaurant than Thea ever had or likely ever would.

  Thea just didn’t know what to do with the knowledge.

  Chapter 14

  The next morning Mason was surprised to find his father sitting at the kitchen table at eight in the morning.

  “You didn’t go see Delilah this morning?” he asked gently, pouring himself a cup of coffee.

  Gerald took a sip of his cooling mug. “Talking is over. She’s slipped into a coma. It won’t be long now.”

  Morgan sighed and walked to the table to sit. Though he’d never done it before that he could recall, Morgan reached out and put a hand over his father’s on the table.

  “Is there anything I can do to make this easier for you?”

  Gerald looked at Morgan’s hand on his in amazement.

  Comfort. The shock of it was great. The strength of his son’s firm hand over his was very welcome.

  “I think you just did,” he said, lifting his cup to his mouth again, leaving his hand under Morgan’s.

  “I’m sorry you’re hurting, Dad,” Morgan said, pulling his hand away at last. “Does Thea know?”

  Gerald shook his head. “I’m not sure. It just happened last night. I called Lydia. We’re going to go see Delilah together. I’m not good at—well, I just know it’s not her anymore. To see her like that, it’s like she’s already gone. I don’t know how I will do.”

  “I’ll go with you if you want,” Morgan said, knowing that he would find whatever he needed inside himself to bear it if necessary.

  “Lydia will help me. You know where you need to be,” Gerald said, reaching out and pounding a gentle fist on Morgan’s hand resting on the table now. “Surely after last night Thea’s got to give in a little.”

  “What do you mean?” Morgan asked, his mind still on his father and Lydia going to see Delilah.

  Gerald snorted. “Amy called Lydia last night. Pete’s told six people already, two of whom have called me. Word travels fast around here, Morgan.”

  “That’s amazing. You mean Pete actually talks to people other than me?” Morgan teased, listening to his father laugh. “The guy put his hand on Thea’s ass, Dad. I watched him do it.”

  Gerald laughed loudly then, hearing the disgust and lingering fury in Morgan’s tone.

  “You think a woman who bloodied your nose couldn’t deal with an unwelcome grope?” he asked his son.

  Morgan sighed. “I wasn’t exactly thinking clearly at the time. He’d done something to Amy before that happened. Maybe I overreacted, but Thea wasn’t too mad afterward. She told me goodnight.”

  “I admire your restraint in not seriously hurting the man,” Gerald said, grinning.

  “He was just a stupid kid. I put his face in his plate and then paid for his damn dinner,” Morgan said.

  Gerald laughed loudly again, this time wiping tears away. “Oh, God, that’s funny. I wish I could have been there.”

  “I still have a couple of months. Come by on Fridays. That’s when the drunks show up,” Morgan said, sipping his coffee. “Evidently, they’re good for business around here.”

  “Guess I need to get dressed. I’m proud of you, Morgan,” Gerald said, standing.

  “For kicking a drunk’s ass?” Mor
gan said, grinning. “You might not be if you knew how much I enjoyed it.”

  Gerald snorted. “No. I’m proud of you for helping Thea, for trying to right a wrong. Many men wouldn’t bother. I think you really are a good man, and I’m glad you’re here.”

  Morgan couldn’t speak for the lump in his throat. He could only nod as his father walked away.

  *** *** ***

  Several weeks of pasta dinners went by, and Tom showed up at Thea’s office unexpectedly again demanding to see her.

  “This is fairly amazing,” Tom said, sitting across from Thea in her office while she flipped through the report he’d brought to her. “You’ve doubled last month’s profits in less than three weeks.”

  Thea plucked at her T-shirt. “Doubled? I knew we were making money, but not how much. I hadn’t stopped long enough to do the math.”

  “Well, that’s why you pay me,” Tom said, laughing. “By the way, I’m getting married.”

  Thea sighed and smiled. “Wonderful. Does Sylvia know?”

  “Very funny, smartass. You know it’s to her,” Tom said affectionately. “I’ve officially given up on you and moved on. If you don’t make up with Reed now, you’re going to become a shriveled up old maid.”

  Thea laughed, but there was no humor in it. “You two are not the only two men in Sedona. I don’t think Morgan Reed is my last chance at a bed partner.”

  Tom studied her with narrowed eyes. “No. I’m sure you could have as many of those as you wanted. But I doubt you’re going to find in anyone else whatever it was in Reed that yanked you back to the land of the living with the rest of us.”

  Thea leaned back and looked at the ceiling to avoid Tom’s demanding glare. “Let me guess—you like him.”

  “I don’t know yet,” Tom said, half serious and half joking. “But I would hire him in a heartbeat if he moved here permanently. He’s not meant to be a cook. He’s got a CPA.”

  “Great. So I’m the only person I know who doesn’t like Morgan Reed,” Thea said sarcastically.

  “Well, you could look up the drunk customer who groped you a few weeks ago. Morgan’s probably not high on his list,” Tom told her.

  Thea sighed heavily.

  “Come on. Even you have to admit that was impressive,” Tom demanded.

  “He was just showing off for Amy and Pete,” Thea complained.

  “Like hell,” Tom said laughing. “Morgan laid public claim to your ass and had the ability to back it up. You picked an interesting man to follow Angus Carmichael, Thea.”

  “What I had with Morgan Reed was brief and is now over,” Thea said, glaring at Tom, daring him to say more about it.

  “You need him,” Tom said gently. “And I don’t mean just for the restaurant.”

  “He’s controlling and deceitful,” Thea pronounced, her lingering anger at Morgan tightening her tone.

  “He’s caring and willing to eat his pride to help you,” Tom replied, keeping his gaze level on Thea’s. “Don’t be so hard about this. What more do you want from the man? Seems like Morgan is doing all he can to make things right.”

  “I don’t know why everyone in my life is trying to get me to forgive a man who searched my home and slept with me when he thought I was a criminal,” Thea demanded.

  “Dust off your sense of humor, Thea. It will be a great story someday to tell your grandchildren,” Tom suggested, laughing when she growled and gritted her teeth. “I’m just saying.”

  “Go away. You’re my accountant, not my therapist. I certainly don’t need relationship advice from you,” Thea said morosely, listening to Tom’s laughter.

  “I’m your friend,” Tom told her, getting up to leave. “You need him, Thea. And he needs you, I think. Despite what he’s done, Morgan Reed seems like mostly a good man.”

  “I’m sure he’d be thrilled to know he has another fan. Now go way, Tom,” Thea said, laughing at last.

  After Tom left, Thea spent a long few minutes telling herself over and over that Tom, Amy, Lydia, and even Gerald were wrong. She did not need Morgan Reed in the way they thought she did.

  All she needed was his pasta sauce recipe and a way to forget how good he was at kissing.

  Chapter 15

  Morgan was finishing up the fifth pan of lasagna when Pete came in with the remaining ingredients they had run out of in preparation.

  “Need to layer about an inch of shredded mozzarella on each pan, before they go into the oven,” he said, glancing up briefly, but not really paying much mind to Pete.

  Morgan was absorbed in what he’d come to think of as his pasta cooking zone. Plus he and Pete had worked out a companionable cook and apprentice relationship. Mostly he paid the man little mind until Pete made the move to talk to him which was happening more frequently.

  As Morgan finished the last pan, he looked up, bringing his full attention to Pete and seeing a deep frown on the man’s face.

  “What?” Morgan asked, looking at the pasta pans. “Something wrong with the pasta?”

  “Thea had to leave,” Pete said quietly. “She got a call and took off after she dropped me here with the food. It was the nursing home. I think something has happened to Delilah.”

  Morgan closed his eyes and breathed out a ragged breath. “Dad warned me it was coming. Did she want us to close up?”

  “She didn’t say,” Pete told her, rubbing his face. “Amy can’t handle all the tables by herself.”

  “No,” Morgan said quietly. “No, she can’t. I guess that will be up to me to help, since you’ll still need to run the grill. We’ll make it work. Can you run the credit card machine?”

  Pete nodded. “Yeah. I used to know how. Amy might have to show me again.”

  “Then we’ll survive tonight,” Morgan said, his mouth tight, his thoughts on Thea, and on his Dad and Lydia. He would rather have been with them, but he would do what was needed most.

  They opened at five not having heard from Thea yet. Morgan and Amy waited tables, took orders, and kept things mostly afloat. Some regulars seemed to know that Morgan’s presence in the dining room meant Thea was in trouble. Some of them already seemed to know how bad it was.

  A man showed up around seven saying he was a friend of Pete’s and began bussing tables without being asked. Morgan nodded to the man and went on.

  Around nine-thirty there were just two sets of customers left when Morgan and Amy elected to lock the front door. Morgan was flipping the sign when Thea walked up the sidewalk, looking as pale as a ghost in the moonlight. Morgan held the door as she walked inside.

  Amy stopped cleaning and looked up at Thea, who shook her head. “She’s gone.”

  It was all Thea could manage without breaking down.

  Swallowing hard, Amy nodded and went back to cleaning off the tables.

  “Can I see you in my office?” Thea asked Morgan.

  Morgan nodded and followed her across the restaurant and through the kitchen doors. She walked past Pete without a word, turned down the hall to her office. Once inside the room, she stood in the middle of the floor.

  Morgan came in and closed the door behind him. Then he waited. Until he heard the first sniffle, and then Morgan walked to Thea, turned her, and wrapped her fiercely in his arms.

  “I’m sorry,” he told her, his voice ragged with grief for her.

  He could feel the sobs Thea was fighting not to release as much as the ones she was letting out softly.

  “She came out of the coma tonight and asked for me by name,” Thea said. “I put my hand on her cheek, and she smiled. I guess she needed to see me one last time.”

  Morgan tightened his hold. “You can cry. You can scream. Hell, I’ll even let you bloody my nose again. Whatever you need, Thea. Whatever you need. I mean that.”

  Thea felt the un-clinching in her gut, felt the anger giving way, and she pulled free of Morgan’s hold on her until she could look him in the eye.

  “I’m still mad as hell about the way you hurt me, but I need to be with
you tonight,” she told him, seeing surprise and fear in his gaze that locked to hers.

  Thea stood on her toes until she could reach Morgan’s mouth, and when she kissed him, there was nothing in her kiss but gratitude for his arms around her.

  “I’m not going to argue. We’ll work on the mad stuff another time,” Morgan whispered against her busy mouth, letting her kiss be what she made of it while he spent the time absorbing the feel of her and the taste of her, until he could believe it was really happening. Thea was in his arms again. He didn’t care why.

  “I don’t want to be alone, and it doesn’t seem to make any sense for me to be alone when I know you’re willing to hold me. I can’t think past that,” Thea said.

  Morgan lifted a hand to her face, caressing her cheek in the gesture she had so often used with him and his father.

  “I care about you, Althea Carmichael. I’m glad to be the one comforting you. I won’t take advantage again. I swear it.”

  Thea closed her eyes. “You’ll get more than a bloody nose next time if you do,” she told him.

  Morgan hugged her tightly against him. “I know. It’s one of the things I most admire about you.”

  Before they all left that evening, Thea made a sign that she taped to the restaurant door.

  Closed Due To Death In Family

  Reopen Next Tuesday

  *** *** ***

  That night, following an instinct to take care of her, Morgan followed Thea into the shower, washed her and then himself. Then he kissed his way down her needy, aching body to pleasure her while she leaned weakly against the bathroom wall.

  After she had calmed, Morgan kissed Thea, over and over and over, in every way he’d ever done to please himself and pleasure any woman.

  Finally, despite the pain in his leg from bracing her weight, and the additional penalty he’d pay tomorrow, Morgan scooped her up into his arms and carried Thea to the bed, sliding without finesse inside her the moment they were horizontal.