Kelsey sat down at the table and took a sip from her wineglass. “What do you mean?”
He recounted just a few of the things he’d learned about the Marlowes since he’d met them. “That story about Trevor helping his assistant get his own restaurant, your father and Travis taking on cases pro bono, your mother and Trent treating patients for free if they couldn’t afford to pay for sessions. Mike and Miranda setting up a foundation in her father’s name to send inner-city kids to baseball games in the summer—”
She smiled, stopping him. “It’s called giving back, Morgan. My family and I feel that we’ve been very lucky in our lives and we just want to share a little of our good fortune.”
It occurred to him that she’d never said anything about her “extracurricular”
activities. He knew she had to have some. “How do you ‘share’?”
He could feel the warmth radiating from her as she smiled at him. “You mean other than finding lost souls and trying to reintegrate them into society?”
She obviously was referring to him. With a dismissive wave of his hand, he said,
“Yes, other than that.”
“I volunteer at a free clinic, helping kids with speech impediments and other problems.” For a moment, her expression grew serious. “It takes so little to destroy a kid’s self-esteem. I try to help them get it back.” Suddenly, she stopped talking and turned to face the band her father had hired. She lit up like a Christmas tree right in front of him. “Oh, they’re playing a song.”
Morgan looked over his shoulder at the five men, one woman off to the side where a dance floor had been designated.
“They’re a band.” He pointed out. “They’re supposed to be playing a song.”
Kelsey was on her feet again, and he had a feeling he knew what was coming. Or, at least what she was going to ask. No way was he going to comply. Being part of the wedding party just involved walking a straight line. Dancing and making a fool of himself in public—and in front of her—was a completely different matter. Kelsey wove her fingers through his and gave him what was easily a thousand-watt smile as she tugged on his hand. “Dance with me.”
It wasn’t a request, but it wasn’t a demand, either, so he couldn’t get annoyed. But neither did he move.
“I don’t dance,” he told her, remaining exactly where he was.
He could see by the light that came into Kelsey’s eyes that she wasn’t about to give up. “You can stand, can’t you?”
He couldn’t very well deny that. “Yeah,” he answered warily.
“And you can sway, right? Just a little, like this,” she illustrated by swaying her hips ever so slowly to the band’s tempo. It was just enough to make his throat tighten.
“That’s not dancing, that’s being seductive,” he told her.
Kelsey grinned as she tugged on his hand again, this time with a little more verve.
“Potato, po-tah-to. The object is to have fun.”
“I can have all the fun I can handle sitting down.” To his surprise, for once, Kelsey said nothing. She just continued looking at him. After a minute, Morgan found himself capitulating. “Oh, all right, I’ll stand up and sway.”
The sound of her laughter, filled with delight and yet sexy as all hell, filled his head. “That’s all I ask, Morgan.”
“No, you’re asking for a hell of a lot more than that and you know it,” he told her.
And while she asked, she also eroded the ground that was beneath his feet, the foundation he’d put down when he’d finally, painstakingly, pulled his life back together. She was doing it one chipped piece at a time, but she was definitely doing it.
He knew he could stop dead, plant his feet on the floor and just stop moving. Stick of dynamite or not, she wasn’t stronger than he was. But he didn’t hold his ground. He allowed her to lead him to the dance floor, silently calling himself an idiot.
Reaching her destination, Kelsey turned around, slipped her hands into his and lightly pressed her body against him. Just enough to fan the flames that were already burning.
Kelsey turned her face up to his, the picture of innocence again. If innocence had a wicked glint in its eyes.
“See?” she asked. “This isn’t so bad now, is it, Morgan?”
Bad? Yes, it was bad. Bad because it was damn near perfect—and something he could get accustomed to so very easily. He knew if he allowed that to happen, it would be a really bad thing because it meant that he would be in a vulnerable position. Again.
He knew that and yet, he couldn’t make himself just walk away. Not yet.
“It’s torture,” he told her darkly, “but I guess I’ll put up with it for now.”
She smiled at him, her eyes lighting up and their warmth touching him in all the spots he’d long since thought were dead, or at least incapable of feeling anything.
“Ah, a sense of humor,” she noted, delighted. “Nice to know I’m rubbing off on you a little.”
Morgan laughed shortly and murmured something unintelligible.
The operative word here, he thought, being rubbing. Morgan could feel her body swaying against his, could really feel himself responding even though he didn’t want to. There would be a price to pay for going along with her request, and in his gut he knew that he’d be paying it. Sooner than later. to. There would be a price to pay for going along with her request, and in his gut he knew that he’d be paying it. Sooner than later. But all he could think about right now was making love with her again, this even though he’d promised himself that it was never going to happen again. Some willpower, he silently mocked himself.
It wasn’t that he felt disloyal to his wife or anything nearly that uncomplicated. Mixed in with the urges and passions associated with desire that he felt was fear. A very strong, sinewy ribbon of fear. Fear that he was becoming vulnerable. That he could no longer protect himself. He’d had his heart ripped out by the roots once when he’d lost Beth and their daughter. He never, ever wanted to be in that kind of position again. Never wanted to number among the walking wounded again, wanting only to die but knowing that he had to go on living, if for no other reason than to keep their memory alive. Because he was the only one left who remembered them.
It had taken a long time for it to stop hurting when he breathed.
And now along came this golden-haired woman with her laughing eyes and her soul-tempting mouth. She was breaking down his walls, was making him think about things that belonged in the life of a normal man, not the shell of a man he had become.
She was making him think about things he shouldn’t yearn for. Because he knew that nothing ever lasted, and neither would she. Today, tomorrow, next week, or maybe even a little longer, but then she’d be gone. He’d be alone again, left to try to cope with an emptiness that hurt like hell. He couldn’t go through that another time.
“You look very good in a tuxedo,” she said to him when the silence between them got to be too much. “The ‘bad guys’ would never recognize you.”
Damn it, her body swaying against his that way was short-circuiting his brain, making it hard to concentrate, he thought. “Maybe I can use this as a disguise if I ever have to go undercover.”
She laughed again, raising his body temperature several degrees. “It’s a thought.”
Kelsey turned her face up to his. “What are you doing after the wedding?” she asked.
How much longer was this song going to go on? he wondered. “Going on with my life.”
“In other words, nothing specific.”
Morgan lifted one shoulder in a vague, noncommittal shrug. She went on looking at him. “Why, what did you have in mind?”
Her smile widened. How she pulled off wicked and innocent at the same time was beyond him, but she did. “I was hoping you’d have something in mind.”
There was no skirting around her meaning. Morgan laughed and shook his head. Kelsey Marlowe was definitely one of a kind, he thought.
“You always been this shy?” he
asked, amused.
She nodded solemnly. “It’s a curse, but don’t try to change the subject.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He could feel a quickening in his loins, a longing that was all too familiar in its demand. Unlike the handful of other women who had passed through his life since he’d lost Beth, one taste of Kelsey hadn’t satisfied anything. It had just led him to wanting another. And another. There was no point in pretending otherwise. “Your place or mine?”
“Whichever’s closer,” Kelsey breathed. She moved in closer, doing away with the last bit of space between them.
“Don’t they look good together?” Kate asked.
She was dancing with her husband, but her attention was completely focused on Kelsey and Morgan. She hadn’t taken her eyes off the couple since Kelsey had dragged Morgan out onto the dance floor.
Bryan glanced in his daughter’s direction. “Yes, they do,” he agreed. When he looked back at his wife, something suddenly dawned on him, highlighted in big neon lights. “William Allen didn’t break his arm yesterday, did he?” he asked suspiciously.
Kate didn’t give him a direct answer. “Why would he call to say he did if he didn’t?”
He knew her by now, knew that Kate never lied. She did know how to use words in such a way as to suggest things without actually saying them. She was exceedingly clever, he mused, offering nonanswers in place of actual answers.
“I’m the lawyer here, Kate. I’m the one who’s supposed to twist words around.”
She was the personification of innocence as she asked, “Whatever do you mean, Bryan?”
He bent over to whisper into her ear. “Come clean, Kate.”
Rather than continue the verbal dance, she laughed softly. When Bryan straightened his head, Kate smiled up into his eyes.
“You always could see right through me, couldn’t you?” As they continued dancing, she filled him in on what had really happened. “When I saw William yesterday at the tuxedo rental shop, he looked very unhappy. I managed to get him to tell me what was wrong. He said his wife didn’t want him being part of the wedding party without her. William didn’t want to hurt Travis’s feelings, but he didn’t want to upset his wife and have her complaining for the entire night, either. I just gave him a way out.”
“Out of the altruistic goodness of your heart,” Bryan declared with a deadpan expression.
She knew that Bryan saw through her, but there was a comfort in having your spouse know you so well that he could finish your thoughts. She took solace in that closeness. “You know how good my heart is, Bryan.”
“Yes,” he whispered with all sincerity, “I do.”
As he danced, Bryan pressed his hand to the small of her back, thinking how delicate and petite Kate felt against him. He’d almost forgotten that she was pregnant and that all this would soon change. That petite little body he knew so well would be rounded out with their child. Desire, roused by emotion, suddenly filled him. He found himself looking forward to the night ahead, after the reception was over and Travis and Shana were off on their honeymoon. It was time to recreate a little of their own honeymoon. Most men, after twenty-seven years of marriage, just went through the motions. But he was more in love with his wife than ever. Bryan knew he was one of the lucky ones.
Chapter Thirteen
H e was happy.
These past few years, happiness had become such a foreign concept to Morgan that it had taken him almost a month to recognize it. Being with Kelsey, looking forward to seeing her, even to interacting with her family, all of this made him happy. Quietly, subtly, supremely happy. But recognition and admission inevitably reintroduced the specter of fear.
Against his will, Morgan found himself waiting for the other shoe to drop. For the happiness to abruptly end without warning, like a bomb being thrown at him—the way it had last time—and sending him plummeting back into the dark, lonely world he’d inhabited before his path had crossed Kelsey’s. All things ended. And this would, too. Most likely when he was least prepared for it.
The best way to handle it would be on his own terms. The only way to be braced for it would be if he just walked away from it while there still was an “it.” That way, he wouldn’t be sucked into an abysmal vortex when happiness was no longer part of his life.
The description might be melodramatic, but he knew damn well that if he wasn’t prepared, when happiness vacated his life, he would be broadsided, like a Middle Ages galleon receiving a lethal blow below its water line.
After being devastated by his mother’s death and then his father’s steady descent into a depression that placed the man far beyond his reach, Morgan never thought that life would have a purpose, a real reason for him to live, until Beth had made him feel otherwise. Beth had been his secret source of strength, his reason to smile. When the baby came along, his life was absolutely complete.
He’d been so foolish then, thinking things had finally turned around for him. He’d been supremely happy with his little corner of the world. Life taught him that things could change in a blink of an eye.
But even knowing what could—and most likely would—happen, knowing how devastating the loss would be, he had still allowed his barriers to begin crumbling. Still found himself looking forward to seeing Kelsey, still allowed himself to be absorbed into the fabric of her family. He’d gotten too comfortable, Morgan chided himself. And that was exactly when disaster always struck. It waited for complacency, for happiness to blot out everything else, making a man myopic, and then it struck, just because it could, stripping him of everything. Leaving him bent and bleeding, going through the motions and having no real reason to go on living.
He had to back away, for his own preservation.
Like with a bandage that had gotten stuck to a wound, he had to rip it away cleanly. It would hurt, but pulling it off slowly would hurt even more, only prolonging the pain.
“You’re quieter than usual,” Kelsey commented, turning toward Morgan in bed. They had just made love and his silence made the afterglow slip into the shadows quicker than it should.
She felt herself growing uneasy.
As with so many nights since her brother’s wedding, they had gotten together for no particular reason, with no set agenda, just to see each other. In the beginning, the get-togethers occurred aided by excuses. She would invite Morgan to a movie, or he would suggest going to a restaurant, when all either of them really wanted was just to enjoy the other’s company.
But after a while, the excuses no longer seemed necessary. It was enough that they just wanted to see one another. At least, she’d thought that it was enough. But the past few days Morgan had become pensive. More so than usual. Kelsey vacillated between giving Morgan his space and wanting to take on whatever was bothering him to make his burden lighter.
Not knowing what was going on in his head had her thinking all sorts of things were wrong.
He sat up. “Just thinking,” he murmured with a careless shrug that wasn’t reassuring. Telling herself that she was just imagining things didn’t help, either.
“Yes, I can see the wheels turning.” Kelsey glided a finger along his temple as if she were able to access his thoughts at will. If only it were that simple. “There’s this little vein that becomes prominent whenever you’re lost in thought,” she told him, then asked, “Anything I can help with?” fervently hoping that whatever was bothering him had nothing to do with the two of them.
“Or is it police stuff?” she asked when he didn’t respond. “And it’s all based on
‘need to know’?” Kelsey uttered the phrase with disdain.
Morgan shook his head. “No,” he said. And then he slanted a look in her direction, his expression unreadable. “Just something I need to work out.”
She didn’t like the sound of that. Or his low tone. It made her feel uneasy, although she couldn’t really explain why.
“If you share a burden, it’s always lighter,” she said, trying to sound chipper.
“Not always,” he countered. If he’d let her in, told her what was really on his mind before he acted on it, she might misunderstand. She might think it was her fault, or worse, that she could somehow magically “fix the problem.”
Kelsey was quiet for a moment, scrutinizing him. “Does this have anything to do with us?” she asked. Us. Two little letters. They sounded so solid, so good. But he knew how quickly that could all change, dissolving to nothingness. In response, Morgan merely shrugged his shoulders and looked away.
A chill ran down her spine. He wasn’t answering her. She’d thought—hoped—that she was making him happy. At the very least half as happy as he made her. In her wildest dreams, she’d never known that she could be this in love. Corny as it sounded, it took everything she had not to just burst into song at the drop of a hat. wildest dreams, she’d never known that she could be this in love. Corny as it sounded, it took everything she had not to just burst into song at the drop of a hat. She was that happy.
And she had clung to the hope that the feeling could go on indefinitely, evolving into a permanent connection. She’d asked for no “talks,” made no attempt to back him into a corner to “define” their relationship in any manner, shape or form. She’d been determined not to make him feel any pressure. And, in deference to Morgan, she’d deliberately bitten back the words “I love you” whenever they had sprung to her lips, even though it was happening with more frequency these last couple of weeks.
There was no denying that she really was in love with Morgan.
She hadn’t thought such feelings were possible. But love had hit her hard. She hadn’t said a word, hadn’t even hinted at it, because she was afraid that she’d frighten Morgan away, or at least make him take a few steps back. She’d been fairly confident that she could wait Morgan out until he was ready to make his own declaration to her.
In the weeks since Trent and Shana’s wedding, she’d witnessed a steady change in Morgan, one she wasn’t sure he was even aware of. It had given her hope. Morgan had been steadily lightening up. A few times, after they’d made love, she’d actually caught him smiling, just smiling to himself. It was a very good sign. But right now, it was as if none of that had happened. He was changing again, and this time it was a reversal of attitude. The ground they’d gained now seemed to be breaking apart.
[Kate's Boys 05] - A Lawman for Christmas Page 12