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Wicked Ties(142)

By:Shayla Black


hangover. It’s the very least he deserves, Deke. I paid for his revenge with my heart and a

piece of my soul.” “For what it’s worth, so did he.”

Deke’s words were like a punch to the gut, like poking a stick at a wild animal.

“Bullshit.”

“He loves you. He just has no idea how to win you back and doesn’t think he deserves

the chance to try.”

“At least we agree on something,” she snapped. But in her heart, hope surged. Was it

possible that he stayed away, not out of disregard but guilt?

“Just talk to him, doll. You’d be doing me and Grandpa Brice a favor.”

Morgan hesitated, so damn tempted. “Why should I want to do a favor for the old

man who brought me nearly nonexistent lingerie in an underhanded attempt to throw

me Jack’s way?” “Because he thinks you’re perfect for his grandson. We all do. Even Jack.

Pleassseee,” Deke wheedled. “Talk to him. Just once.”

“Grown men begging.” She rolled her eyes.

But she feared she wasn’t fooling anyone. The hunger to see Jack gnawed at her

composure, her restraint. Yet the fear of getting sucked into his charisma again, of being

duped by her own want, of stupidly clinging to him and giving him the power to hurt her

again, kept her away.

Deke shrugged. “Whatever works.”

“If he wanted to see me that bad, he knows where to find me.”

“He’s got the Catholic guilt thing down pat, Morgan. He knows he fucked up, and

he’s not going to push his love on you.” “He doesn’t love me!” she shouted.

“He does,” Brandon cut in. “He told me himself, in two languages. I’ve never seen

Jack care too much about any one person in his life. I had no doubt when I looked at the

man that he loves you.”

Morgan sucked in a sharp breath. Was it possible she meant more to Jack than just a

revenge fuck? Had she come to mean more than the means to fueling a vendetta?

“I can see your thoughts all over your face, doll. Granted, spending one morning

inside you doesn’t make me an expert, but—”

“I don’t need to hear this.” Brandon grimaced. “I’m pretty sure I know where your

head is at,” Deke went on. “You aren’t going to get answers by hiding here.”

She mentally recoiled. First, the son of a bitch had to remind her about that awful,

wonderful morning she’d spent squeezed between the two of them as they’d given her

the ultimate pleasure. Her ultimate fantasy, despite Jack’s reservations. Then he tells her

that she’s being a coward. Lovely.

She could feel Brandon’s reproving gaze on her, too, and made a mental note to beat

Deke’s ass later.

Shaking her head to clear it, Morgan forced herself to focus. Even if Jack had put his

fears aside, so much else had happened.

A protest leaped to the tip of her tongue. No way, no how, was she going to talk to

Jack.

But…damn Deke, he was right. No one had the answers she wanted except Jack.

“Talk to him,” Deke’s quiet command went straight to her common sense and made

mush out of it. “Come with me.” Her thoughts were so tangled, so jumbled. But one

reality stood out for her: Jack was the strong, shrewd, sexual man her body and mind had

been searching for all her life. She could either stay here and hide and always wonder

what could have been. Or she could go talk to the man and find out where his avowals

of “love” registered on her bullshit meter.

“Fine. But no promises that I’ll be nice.”

“None expected.” Deke grinned, those indigo eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Give me ten minutes to get myself together.”

Deke grinned. “Jack was nursing a bottle of Tennessee whiskey when I left. Better

make it five.”

#

Climbing into Deke’s enormous Hummer for the long ride out to Jack’s swamp

cottage in Louisiana, Morgan reflected that, if she didn’t know better, she’d assume Deke

had chosen such a vehicle to compensate for a deficit in masculine proportions. But she

did know…

Because of Jack. Because he’d granted her that fantasy. It seemed silly to turn the

events of the last two weeks over and over in her mind. She’d done it a million times.

Jack had reeled her in, duped her by tantalizing her with the lure of fantasies she’d

always wanted fulfilled. He’d delivered. No disputing that. But for her, it had gone

beyond pleasure. Way beyond.

When she’d been with Jack, Morgan had believed heart and soul that it meant

something to him. The knowledge that he’d done it all for revenge crushed her until she