Asking for Trouble (17 page)

She caught his face in her hands and brought him as close as two people could be. Staring into his eyes, feeling his soul brush against hers, any words she might have uttered lodged in her throat. Would she remember what her life had been like before him? Once he learned the truth, once he learned what she'd done and walked away, would she ever be whole without him? “Everything's perfect.” She stroked her thumbs across his lips.

For now.

Gage drew lazy circles on Morgan's bare arm. He'd thought the dragging week had been the result of the glacial-moving case. He was wrong.

The anticipation of seeing Morgan had slowed time. Today, this weekend, this moment, couldn't arrive fast enough.

The days and nights of texting were as satisfying as being offered a wheatgrass shot after touring a chocolate factory. When had she become the first thing he thought of in the morning? When was the last time he'd gone more than two hours without checking in at work? Hell, he hadn't even called Bouncer back about the list she'd received from Kolfax's office.

But the list had ceased to matter when Morgan needed him.

All these years he thought that when, or if, he fell for a woman, he'd feel stifled. Trapped. Instead, falling in love with Morgan had set him free. Which was why when she'd called—in the loosest sense of the word—he'd had no qualms about leaving work behind.

Somehow the last two years, the FBI clusterfuck, his recovery, his doubts about his job—none of it mattered except that each event led him to exactly where he needed to be: beside Morgan.

This room, the entire apartment, what he'd seen of it, was so extraordinarily her. The soft yellow walls and snow white plantation shutters. The discount store dresser displayed elegant silver frames with photos of her family: her mother and a little blond-haired boy Gage assumed was Colin. Morgan and Sheila in mid-air jump at Morgan's college graduation. Nathan and Jackson hoisting a beer at a local pub. Kelley and Lydia dressed up for Halloween—although with Kelley, it could have been any day. An unframed picture of Drew and Brandon sat propped against the wall as if awaiting its appropriate housing. Nothing in excess, nothing to distract from her simple, straightforward way of living. Typical, practical Morgan. “Tell me about your day,” he urged.

Her hand stilled from where she'd traced the scar on his chest, as if his words chilled her warm body. He drew the sheet up and around her, kissed the top of her head, brushed his fingers against the cameo medallion around her neck. “What's wrong?”

She snuggled her head into his shoulder, draped a leg between his, and he shifted, wincing as she almost triggered round three. “I—” She tensed, as if the words got stuck, but he stroked his fingers down her spine, felt the tension melt under his touch. “I had to tell a doctor we couldn't help his patient. Five-year-old boy, stage three lymphoma. He's not responding to traditional treatments and insurance won't cover experimental. With the construction delays, the bills that are due—I don't have the money to give them.”

She tried to sit up, and he felt her pulling away from him, retreating into the solitary shell he'd been certain he'd never crack. He held on, wrapped his other arm around her and drew her higher against him, refusing to let her turn away from him. Refusing to let her shut him out.

“I had to say no,” she whispered as she surrendered, despite the spine of steel he was convinced she possessed. “And that baby boy isn't going to make it.” Hot tears dropped onto his chest, the anguish behind them sinking into his skin, into his heart, like molten lava.

“I'm so sorry.” He cradled her head against his chest, wished he could take this from her, offer a solution, but all he could offer was himself. “You're only one person, Morgan. It's not your fault.”

Her silence echoed louder than any argument she might have made.

Gage scooted up against the iron headboard. “You told Gina the other day that they can't all be saved, that some will die. Why doesn't that same warning apply to you?” He grasped her chin, forced her to look up at him, and the grief in her eyes sliced through him like sharpened obsidian. “You're doing everything you can. No one expects you to do more.”

“I expect it.” She pounded a closed fist over his heart. “I promised her. I promised them.”

“Who? Your mother? Your brother?” He wished he could shake some sense into her. “I'm sorry, but they're gone. It's tragic, and yes, it hurts, but you cannot go through life living up to expectations they never set. There has to come a time when you say
enough
.”

A spark of irritation flashed in her eyes like a flint stone in the dark. “If I don't do this, who will? If I don't fight for them, who will?”

Suddenly, everything about Morgan made sense. “Is that what this cause of yours is about? Are you afraid no one will step up to help if you ask?”

“If I don't ask, I can't be disappointed, can I?”

“Oh, baby.” He kissed the frown from her lips. “You don't give people enough credit.” He tucked her head under his chin and held on. It took a few moments, long moments, before she sank into him again. “You aren't the only person in the world who wants to make people's lives better. Give them—give us—a chance. You're right. If you don't ask, they can't disappoint you. But imagine if they say yes. Imagine what you can do then.”

***

Gage's cell phone buzzed from somewhere in the bedroom, dragging him out of the deepest sleep he'd had in weeks. Sunlight streamed through the skylight in the narrow hallway. He picked up the watch he'd set on the nightstand sometime after midnight.

A slow smile spread across his mouth as he looked over to find Morgan sprawled face-first on the mattress, her hair curling around her shoulders and down her back, tempting him to trail his fingers along the curve of her spine, over those amazing, full hips and those legs. Gage closed his eyes, clenched his fist. They—and she—had lived up to his every expectation.

She'd only been asleep for a few hours, after he'd taken his fill of her—and she of him. But given the day that lay ahead, he needed a boost other than the drug that was Morgan.

Gage extricated himself from the tangle of sheets, then retrieved his still-damp pants and cell phone before draping the sheet over her. She mumbled something and pushed deeper into the mattress in much the same way she'd pressed into him last night. His body stirred, but he went into the surprisingly spacious bathroom, washed up, and then headed into the galley-style kitchen where he programmed a cup of coffee before heading out to his car for the bag he kept in the trunk.

The aroma of fresh-brewed coffee welcomed him back, and steam rose from the extra-large mug he'd found in one of the cabinets. He drank, exhaled, sighed. He sat at her desk, clicked on his phone, and saw the text message from his sister. Running right on schedule, apparently. He needed to keep Morgan distracted until at least eight. Gage grinned. Shouldn't be a problem.

He turned in the chair, knocking over a stack of file folders. He bent to pick them up, placing them beside a small pile of gift cards, before he scanned the scribbled list she'd made of chores to do today. He folded it, popped it into the top drawer, and caught an ancient-looking troll doll with bright pink hair staring at him from the top of her computer screen. He flicked a finger against the featherlight hair.

“Nice to know there's something amusing this early in the morning.”

Gage glanced up and found Morgan leaning against the doorway, the cerulean blue bed sheet wrapped around her, her hair mussed, her face flushed in a way that made his ego spike considerably. “Good morning.”

“Mmm.” She nodded sleepily. “It sure is.” She approached him with a hungry look in her eye and he opened his arms, only to have her pilfer his coffee. She drank deeply, the same look of ecstasy flashing over her face that he'd become acquainted with last night. His ego slipped a notch.

She sighed and, still holding the mug, settled on his lap. “Now you.” She kissed him. Definitely something he could get used to.

Gage brought a hand up to the back of her head, held her there until he felt her move, and opened one eye to find her struggling to keep hold of the mug. “I think I'm offended,” he murmured against her lips. “I should have enough power to wake you up.”

“You have the power to keep me awake,” she corrected. “Busy day today. Have lots to do on the house.”

Feigning innocence, stroked a finger down her cheek. “I'm sure you have time.”

“Never enough time. Where's that list?” She frowned, scanned the desktop. “Could have sworn I left it here somewhere.” She stood up, mumbling to herself as she took his coffee into the bedroom. Gage tried not to laugh as she fought against the sheet tangling around her legs. Sexier than the damn dress she'd worn the night they'd met.

Gage programmed another cup of coffee before following her into the bedroom. That list she was looking for wouldn't do her much good anyway since Gina's updated one would supersede it. But right now he had work to do. He sipped his coffee until he heard the shower running. Setting his mug down next to hers, he turned the knob and opened the bathroom door, noticing with some trepidation that steam billowed from the top of the shower. The woman must like to cook herself.

“Yep. Really, really tough job.” He stripped off his pants and popped open the door to the stone cubicle.

“Gage.” Morgan whipped around, almost slipping as she tried to cover herself. He stepped inside, closed the door, and smiled down at her. “What do you think you're—”

He caught the rest of her question in his mouth, swallowing her words as he enveloped her in his arms. His senses sang. The lavender-scented soap she used caused her to slide against him in the most erotic way. Her arms came up and around, slipping over his arms, her fingers clenching and releasing against his shoulders. Her body went lax, her left ankle coming around to hook behind his calf as she groaned into him.

He left her mouth and trailed his lips down her neck as the last ounce of resistance melted out of her.

“Told you I'm better than coffee,” he murmured. Gage turned the hot water down. “We don't want to drain the heater, now, do we?”

“I don't have time—”

He kissed her again, pushed her against the wall, and began the process once more, using his mouth and hands to coax all thoughts of work from her mind. He took his time, tasting her, touching every inch of her, until she trembled in his arms. She gasped, turning her head away for a long moment before coming back to him, pulling him against her with a strength that surprised and invigorated him.

“Want more?” he asked, then took her bottom lip between his teeth, pressed gently, and used his tongue to soothe the sting.

She narrowed her eyes before dragging his mouth down to hers. He knew what she wanted before she hitched her leg up around his waist. He slid his hands down to the backs of her thighs and brought her other leg up and slid inside of her.

She let out a moan that made his heart soar. She arched her back, closed her eyes, and drew in shallow breaths. The water pounded over her and he swelled with male pride.

“Hold on to me,” he ordered as he pressed her against the wall and slid his hands up to her waist. Her arms came down and around his neck and her breasts flattened against his chest as he pushed into her, her heat enveloping him. She felt so tight, so perfect, as if she'd been made just for him. God, how he loved her body. How he loved her.

Gage's mind cleared of all thoughts except this moment, of being inside of her, bringing her slowly and torturously to that peak of ecstasy. He withdrew only to plunge deeper, hearing her whimper of pleasure as he repeated the process again and again. His heart pounded, his breathing grew labored, but all he could think was to bring her off first, to send her over the edge. The anticipation of that moment, the promise, had him clenching his jaw, holding off as he felt the telltale spasms begin deep within her. She threw her head back as she came and pulled him with her, draining him to his very soul.

Gage released his hold on her hips and felt her legs slip down his body as the water continued to cascade around them. He kept her in his arms and rotated them under the spray where they stood, kissing and touching, exploring and loving, until the water turned cold.

“Now we have to go get warm,” he murmured, rubbing his thumb over her lips. “Back to bed.

“Gage.” She protested with a weak laugh as he picked her up, but she pushed open the shower door to give them safe passage.

***

“We have a problem.” Huddled under the sheet, Morgan kissed Gage's naked chest, her lips skimming the edges of the scar left by the bullet that had nearly killed him.

“Only one?” His eyes were closed, an arm tossed over his head, his still-damp hair sticking up in odd angles since she'd all but mashed him into the mattress.

They did indeed have more than one, but only one she was willing to voice at the moment. “I think you forgot to bring something into the shower with you.”

“I didn't hear you complaining at the time.”

She twirled her fingers in the short hairs on his chest. “What happened to being prepared?”

He stopped breathing for a minute, his arm tightening around her. She tilted her head up and saw his eyes open slowly.

“Well, damn.” He lifted his other hand to his forehead, rubbed at the crease of concern that formed.

“That's one way of putting it. Should we have the talk now?”

His smile eased any concern she might have had. “The talk?”

“You know, STDs, HIV. I've always prided myself on being safe.”

His eyes narrowed. “Safe with whom?”

Morgan shrugged. She could have so much fun with this. “Oh, you know. Whoever.” She couldn't go through with it and laughed. “A boy in college, and that was more out of curiosity than anything. I wanted to see what the big deal was.”

“And did you?” he asked with a touch of jealousy in his gaze.

“There was nothing big about it at all.” The words were out before she realized what she'd said. “Oh, no.” She covered her eyes as he chuckled. “That isn't what I meant. I just meant I didn't think sex was that big of a deal. Almost felt like a waste of time.”