Everywhere and Every Way(46)

"There will be nothing to fight for if we don't deliver this house," Cal finally said. "We have three months left."

Tristan's face reflected cold civility. "I'll do what needs to be done.  But once the terms are met, things are going to change. Whether you like  it or not."

Tristan left.

Dalton cursed and gave the worktable a vicious kick. "His ego is out of control. He needs to get laid."

Cal groaned and rubbed his temples. "I don't know who he is anymore."

Dalton cocked his head and studied him. "Maybe you never knew either of  us," he said softly. "Maybe you saw exactly what you wanted to."

Cal jerked back. "What the hell does that mean?"

Dalton picked up his tool case. "Nothing. Never mind. I'm outta here."

Cal watched his brother walk away. The house fell quiet except for the  soft creak of wood settling and the hum of crickets. Each time he hoped  they were growing a tad closer, they had a blowout. Now Tristan wanted  to yank away control of Pierce Brothers, and Dalton spouted confusing  philosophical statements he probably didn't even understand himself. All  Cal wanted to do was finish the house and present the lawyer with the  profit margin. The rest he'd deal with later. If he thought about trying  to build a relationship with his brothers and finishing the house and  trying to figure out his relationship with Morgan all at the same time,  his head would frickin' explode.

Cal left the house, thoughts of his brothers and broken family following him home.





chapter seventeen







Morgan poked her head into Sydney's office and waved. The redhead was  chatting on the phone while typing furiously on the computer, several  files open in front of her. Sydney smiled back, motioning with her head  to wait.

Since that fateful night of Morgan's arrest, Sydney had become a close  friend. The woman had a wonderful sense of humor, as well as a sharp  directness Morgan appreciated, and made sure a fun female event was  scheduled once a week. For the first time, she'd discovered the value of  hanging with another strong woman who had her own challenges, yet faced  them with her chin up and a positive attitude. She'd finally met Becca  and enjoyed a Disneyfest of princess movies and popcorn. The little girl  looked exactly like Sydney and had a wicked sense of mischief that  charmed her immediately. Morgan was already half in love with her and  was looking forward to spending more time with the dynamic female duo.

Sydney clicked off the phone and rolled her eyes. "Please tell me we're  going out tonight. This place has exploded, and I swear, all I can think  about is wine."

Morgan laughed. "Sure, tonight is good."

"Good. Becca has been begging for our babysitter to come over and play,  so I have no guilt. Sometimes she orders me to go out, almost like she  senses I need adult time. Four years old, and she's already brilliant,  with a stubborn streak. Lord help me with the teenage years."

Brady came out of the conference room with a harried look on his face.  "I gotta get out of here," he muttered. Dark hair caught back in a  ponytail, his usual polished demeanor held a touch of the desperation.  "Sydney, if anyone calls, tell them I'm working from home. This is like a  pit of pythons, and I'm not getting swallowed whole today. How are you,  Morgan?"

"Good. Client issues?" Morgan asked.

Brady gave a theatrical sigh. "Pierce issues. Meaning these three are  going to put me in an early grave. Have you seen them yet today?"

Morgan shook her head. "I had some earlier appointments but wanted to stop and see Cal. Did something happen?"

Brady and Sydney shared a look. Something passed between them but it was  obviously private. "Nah, just a bad day. Syd, keep an eye out and call  if you need me. See you ladies later."

Morgan watched his retreating back and frowned. Last night, she'd tried  to get Cal to talk about the confrontation between his brothers, but he  refused. He smiled and held her and promised there was nothing to worry  about, but a dark cloud she didn't understand seemed to hover around  him. Almost like a brewing storm that she had no clue how to avoid. Her  heart ached for him. "Is Cal in the back?" Morgan asked.

Sydney sighed and grabbed the ringing phone, motioning her to head to  his office. Morgan walked down the carpeted hallway and found the door  halfway open. She pushed it back and ducked her head in. "Got a minute?"         

     



 

Cal looked up and gave her a tired smile. "For you? Always." He stood  up, and she walked into his arms without hesitation. Warmth and strength  closed around her, and she rested her head on his shoulder, enjoying  his presence. The delicious spicy scent of him surrounded her. She lay  quiet for a few moments, breathing him in. It shouldn't be this  comfortable, or easy, at such an early point. At least, that's what her  mind barked at her when the voice of doom clicked on and gleefully  listed the million reasons a long-term relationship would never work  with them.

But her body was currently making her mind her bitch, and Morgan loved every second.

"What's up?" he asked.

"Dalton's finishing up cabinetry and laying the flooring. Tristan is  working on finishes and handling the appliance delivery. I'm heading out  to check on things soon. Stuck with paperwork?"

She knew Cal hated being in the office, away from the action, but today  he seemed a bit distant. As if he had something on his mind. The fight  with his brothers? Or was he beginning to tire from this relationship?  Worry nagged at her, so Morgan eased back and put space between them. He  let her.

"Handling some phone calls and contracts. Finalizing some invoices  Tristan didn't get to yet. Sounds like you have everything in control  for today."

The warning bells clanged louder. "Sure. Sydney and I are going out tonight," she said casually.

"Good." He glanced down at the stack of papers on the desk, obviously distracted. "You'll have fun."

Sometimes he asked her to stop by after dinner to see him. Sometimes he  growled in her ear about missing out on her delectable body but  encouraged her to have some girl time.

Not today.

Morgan ignored the dread creeping over her and gave him a tight smile.  "You look busy. I'm going to head out. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

He'd already dismissed her, sitting back down and staring down at the desk. "Great. Have fun."

She walked out on leaden feet and stopped by Sydney's desk. "What time  should I pick you up?" she asked. Morgan kept her tone light and frothy.

"Seven's good." Sydney peered at her, concern showing in her green eyes.  "You sure you want to go out? It's okay if you made plans with Cal."

Sydney knew they were dating, and Morgan had recently confessed they  were sleeping together. She'd learned to trust Sydney and her  confidence. "Nope, we have nothing going on. I better get going. See you  tonight."

The rest of the day crawled by. It was as if she were seeing the world  through a distorted lens. Did Cal need a bit of distance? They'd been  spending an awful lot of time together. Maybe he just needed his space.  Men got weird when things got too intense.

She went over their time together and told herself to just back off a  bit. He'd been sweet and given her a hug. Sure, he seemed distant, but  maybe a few evenings off to let things simmer would be helpful. He was  dealing with family stress and the terms of the will. She didn't need to  see him all the time. Going out tonight with Sydney would be good for  them.

Morgan ignored the emptiness and got back to work.


Cal drove his pickup blindly outside the busy city limits and toward the  edge of town. The music was loud, but he only heard a dim buzzing. His  head was full of images and his stomach-or his heart-was filled with  emotion. Wherever those damn things came from.

He finally pulled into the old pub that had been bought and reopened,  the place Morgan had been arrested for prostitution. No one would look  for him here. He'd already turned off his phone so he wouldn't be  bothered by thoughtful calls or texts from friends. Morgan was out with  Sydney and safe. Tonight he was finally alone with the only person he  wanted to be with.

Mr. Jack Daniel.

He pushed his way into the tavern, noticing the wide-open space and  interesting decor that had been added. The bar was still massive but  crumbling from the foundation. He made a mental note to tell the owner  it needed some refurbishing, then slid his ass onto the stool and waited  for the bartender.

A woman in leather pants and a low-cut black top with fringes floated  over to him. There was a detailed tat on her right shoulder, climbing  down her arm, of a sword with droplets of scattered blood. Interesting.  Her hair was long and wild and black as a raven's. She screamed sex and  fierceness, but there wasn't even a stirring in his pants. Nope, give  him his silvery-haired, petite, polite, sassy Southerner any day and his  dick couldn't be tamed. He was in a lot more trouble than he thought.  "What can I get you?"