Wicked Ties(144)

Morgan swallowed.

“I’ll bet she looked beautiful. She always did.” Deke stopped in front of Jack,

lingering on the sidewalk in the noontime sun. “Yeah, and she looked pissed.”

“I expected that. I made a really stupid fucking choice when I didn’t come clean with

her. I had opportunities and I…” He shook his head, a gesture rife with regret. “I didn’t

take them.” “Yeah, that makes you a stupid putz, but that isn’t the main thing she’s

pissed about.”

“It’s not?” He looked totally confused.

Jack didn’t get it? How could he not get it? How could he totally not understand?

Amazing.

Pushed by hope and confusion and her temper, she opened the Hummer door and

leaped down. “No, you dumb ass, that’s not what I’m pissed about.”

“See, I told you I brought you something.” Deke flashed Jack a smile. “Or someone.”

“Morgan,” Jack whispered, taking a step toward her, hands outstretched.

“Nice of you to remember me.”

The barb in her voice stopped him cold. He dropped his hands. “You’re here to chew

my ass out. I deserve it. I swear, I never meant to hurt you. I didn’t think we’d really

become so emotionally involved. But the minute I laid eyes on you—” “Oh, stop with the

romantic drivel. So I was a good lay, nice and submissive and—”

“Kids, why don’t we take this inside so the nice strangers around the motel can’t hear

about your sex lives?” Deke shepherded them into Jack’s room.

Morgan darted inside, past Jack, shocked that she’d been so stirred up that shouting

in a parking lot about their intimate details seemed reasonable. God, that man got under

her skin and fried her brain.

Inside, the white walls and nondescript pressed wood furniture shouted “typical.”

The striped beige and ivory comforter lay strewn with the stiff white sheets across the

bed. Brown indoor/outdoor carpet completed the utilitarian look. Thoroughly ugly. So

how the hell had she wound up having one of the most emotional discussions of her life

here?

She turned to find Deke shutting the door before he leaned against it. Jack hovered

close to her, so close she could smell the mystery of his scent blending with the whiskey

he’d been guzzling.

But he made no move to touch her.

“You were more than a good lay, Morgan. Way more, and I knew I should come clean.

A dozen times I told myself I should but…” Remorse bled into his gaze, tightened his

mouth. “I love you, and I knew once I told you the whole story that I’d lose you.

I couldn’t bring myself to say it and make you hate me. It was going to come soon

enough.”

Morgan steeled her heart against the admission. But she wasn’t quick enough. His

words were like a surprise attack, and hope, pain, and yearning all joined the shock to

wear her resistance down.

Tears stung her eyes. “You love me so much that when I was shot, you visited the

hospital, had a nice cozy chat with Brandon about your ex-wife, then left him to deliver

your apologies to me. And you never came back.”

Jack sucked in a sharp breath. “You…”

“Overheard every word at the hospital? Yes. But what I never heard was that, if you

supposedly loved me, when you were coming back. It seemed awfully easy for you to

write me off.” He finally breached the distance between them and gripped her uninjured

shoulder. His touch slid over her like an electric shock, a jolt of heat, of desire. But more, even. This came with a blast of yearning that exploded from her heart, so strong it

nearly brought her to her knees.

But Jack held her up. “Cher, I fucked up. I didn’t have any right to try to win you

back. Would you have believed a word I said? No,” he answered for her. “And why

should you take me back? I don’t deserve it. I know that.”

Was it really just as Deke said, that Jack felt too guilty to pursue his feelings for her?

Was that the only thing that stopped him?

Maybe the more fundamental question was, did she want him back? Did she want

Jack and all he could give her in her life each and every day.

Even his fingers around her shoulders made her feel more alive than she had in the

last week. A wish burst inside her, straining against common sense. They were from

different places, led different lives… Pointless rumination. If they were to become

a couple, they could compromise, mesh lives, live part-time in Louisiana and part-time in

Los Angeles. Something. The more important fact was that inside, they

shared something special, connected physically and emotionally.