Everywhere and Every Way
Page 25

He’d screwed up. Cal brooded and drank his beer. After a long, sweaty day, the guys had convinced Morgan to join them for a drink after work, which had turned into buffalo wings, Guinness, and a sharing of war stories. He had to give her credit. Though she’d passed on the beer and drank a sparkling seltzer, she held her own with their banter and upped the ante with disaster tales from the building site. How on earth did this slight Southern woman charm this crew of rowdy, crude blue-collar men?
Maybe it was her ability to work as hard as each of them. Sure, she was the boss, and she liked to walk around in those cute white Bermuda shorts with the bows on the side, and those ridiculous pink work boots. When the guys had gotten over their shock, they teased her mercilessly, but she just took it in stride and refused to bat an eyelash. And proved once again she could do anything they could do. Last week, in the flood, she’d shown up in thigh-high waterproof boots and with a white umbrella, then walked around the muddy site like she was at a tea party.
Morgan Raines carried around a clipboard 24/7 and quizzed him on progress at the end of every day. But she visited the site regularly and spent hours on the phone with endless distributors, trying to line up and pick tile, marble, appliances, flooring, and a dozen other materials that all went into the final product of a livable house. Somehow, as prissy and opinionated and controlling as she was, she’d become an integral part of the crew and today had solidified their complete loyalty, a gift they did not give easily.
It drove him nuts.
She drove him nuts. He was still irritated at her power play that had robbed him of his first Green job, and it still stuck in his throat that he was building a house that wouldn’t be truly appreciated. But little by little, day by day, she gained more of his respect.
As if she’d heard his thoughts, she shot him a cool look and stood. “Time for me to go, gentlemen. See y’all tomorrow.”
She left without a nod toward him, and he followed an impulse. Throwing a few bills on the table, he said good-bye and caught up with her. Slowing his stride to match hers, he walked beside her for a while, waiting for her to acknowledge him.
She didn’t.
The fact made him laugh out loud and gained him a withering look. “What’s so funny? And why are you stalking me?”
“Just being a gentleman and walking you to the car.”
Her snort was as Southern as she was. Polite, but cutting. Also quite charming. “What’s your real motivation, Charming? Wanna accuse me of flirting with the crew now?”
Cal winced. He’d gone a little mad when he caught her with Dalton. He didn’t want to dig far to find out why, but the sight of their hands wrapped together and the intimate way they bowed their heads close had set him off. A tiny voice inside sprang to life, growled ferociously, and bellowed out one word.
MINE.
Ridiculous, of course. He knew it was wrapped up in the bruises of his past. When he’d walked in to find Dalton kissing his fiancée, her body arched under his like a present she begged him to unwrap, something died within him. Watching Dalton try to put the moves on Morgan just brought up his trigger point. It was the only reasonable explanation, but he still owed her an apology.
“I was out of line.”
“You think?”
She quickened her pace, but he stayed glued to her side. “I know. Dalton and I have some history, and he set me off. I wasn’t trying to disrespect you.”
Morgan suddenly stopped and looked up at him. The curtain of silvery blond hair swung past the gentle curve of her cheek. The streetlight bathed her in a glow that made her seem almost ethereal, with those big baby blues and the aristocratic slope of her nose and those lush, bubble-gum lips. “Apology accepted.”
“That’s it?”
She gave a delicate shrug. “I can accept a meaningful apology when you offer. Besides, I’m used to stress setting people off at the site. But I still think you need to give your brother a break. You can’t do it all, Cal.”
She was right, but he remained silent. He came off as a dickhead sometimes, but it was so easy to just do it himself so he knew things would be right. Maybe he was more like his father than he realized. He shuddered at the thought.
They walked past the brightly lit harbor, watching the boats bob and the sprinkle of moonlight over the glossy surface. Cafés and seafood restaurants stayed open late in the summer months, and residents and tourists poured out of their houses to walk around the marina and enjoy an ice-cream cone or a late-night cocktail.
“It’s beautiful here,” Morgan said. “There’s something elementally sophisticated yet charming about Harrington. I’m also addicted to the lobster.”
Cal grinned. “Yeah, I like living close to the water. My father took us boating regularly when we were young. Winters are a little rough, but it’s also nice when the tourists go home and everyone’s barricaded in their homes. Many of the bars and shops close down. The firehouse becomes a big draw for poker and pasta nights. And it’s not far into Manhattan if you get really desperate for stimulation.”
“I can imagine.”
“The Rosenthals looking to hole up for the whole year here? They’ll have a nice house to hunker down with.”
Morgan’s face said it all. His heart gave a little pang at the waste of building a home for a couple who didn’t want to live there. “I’m sure they’ll make use of it when they can,” she said carefully. “The filming will be extensive, so they’ll have a level of comfort. I can see them hosting big parties and bringing some Hollywood glamour to the town.”
“Glamour or drama?”
She wrinkled her nose. “Probably both. My car is over there.”
He looked to the right, where her convertible was parked in the lot. Then to the left. The second impulse of the evening overtook him and he made the offer. “Wanna see something no one knows about? Follow me.”
Her brow arched. “Is it good?”
“Real good.”
She hesitated, but her curiosity saved him. She followed his lead as he walked down the main dock and cut through the edge of woods. “Watch your step.” The path was overgrown now, but he followed it by memory, letting his instincts guide him as they grew farther away from the main crowd. Darkness closed in on them, and the moonlight guided his way.
“This has creepy written all over it,” she piped up. He held back a branch so she could step around a wild bush. “Why am I disturbed you have something to show me back here where no one can hear you scream?”