Wicked Lovers 01 Wicked Ties (46 page)

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 felt broken, unable to sleep, eat…breathe. Wondering how the hell she was supposed to go on with this pain.

“You’re thinking too hard. I can almost feel the headache you’re giving yourself.”

She leveled a reproving stare at him. “As opposed to you men, who think of absolutely nothing but your little vendettas and your dicks?”

To his credit, he didn’t wince. “Yes, I knew about Jack’s plan. But I think it stopped being about revenge for him very quickly.”

“Don’t make his case for him. I don’t want to hear it.” Deke’s words only confused her, made her hope. She was going to see Jack for answers. Period. If she didn’t get the answers she wanted, she’d go on with life—alone. Somehow. Not that she expected Jack to be able to convince her of his undying love.

Honestly, how could such a bond form in mere days, when everything around them had been all danger and lies? Impossible, right?

So logical…except for the fact she’d fallen totally for Jack during their time together. And unlike anything she’d felt for any man previously in her life, this felt strong, unbreakable.

Permanent.

Damn.

Deke blew through a yellow light on the outskirts of Houston, then pulled into the parking lot of an extended-stay hotel built like little condos with fresh paint and freshly planted flowers. “You need to pick up your gear before heading out?” she asked.

“Not exactly.”

Deke parked, then turned to face her. “Jack intended to drive the copy of Brandon’s incriminating video straight to him. I ended up driving, since I didn’t think Jack and Jack made a good team on the roads.”

“Jack and Jack?”

“Jack Cole full of Jack Daniel’s.”

“So he’s here?” she asked, her heartbeat suddenly zooming like a woman about to fall from a cliff.

Deke nodded.

“He came all the way to Houston to deliver the video and sent you to do it because he was too drunk? The son of a bitch chose to cozy up to a bottle, rather than possibly getting close to me?”

“No. When we got here, we did a little recon. When he realized you were staying with Brandon, he wouldn’t go. He refused to bother you.”

Of all the crazy, asinine notions…

Before Deke could say more, Jack opened the door of the room in front of him, gorgeously shirtless, dark hair disheveled. Sunlight glared in his face. He squinted and glared toward the Hummer.

“Did you deliver the damn video?” Jack shouted, trying to shield his eyes from the sun.

“Hmm. He’s not slurring anymore,” Deke commented.

“Maybe he’s actually semi-sober.”

“This is ridiculous. Why am I here expecting answers from a drunk man who only pursued me so he could get back at someone else and get his rocks off at the same time? Take me back to Brandon’s.”

“Not yet. Ten minutes. Just give him that much.” Morgan said nothing.

“If you don’t, I’ll have to start pleading again.” She shot him a stare that should have told him that she was totally unmoved. But, as usual, Deke ignored her.

“I’ll give you extra whine if you don’t cave in…” “Ugh! Fine. Ten minutes, then you’re taking me back or I’m calling a taxi. And a hit man to finish off both of you. Pricks!” “That’s a girl.” He planted a smacking kiss her on the cheek, then flashed her a million-watt smile.

Morgan just rolled her eyes. “Let’s get this over with.” “I’ll come around to get you, but hang tight for just a minute. I don’t think he can see you with the sun in his face and these tinted windows. And I want you to hear something.” Deke climbed down from the Hummer, then called to Jack, “Yep, it’s delivered.”

“You bring me a new bottle?”

“I brought you something else. Don’t you want to know that I saw Morgan?”

“So she was there.” He blew out a breath. Then he swallowed, jaw tensing. “How was she?”

“In better shape than you since she wasn’t somewhere between drunk and hung over.”

“Her shoulder?”

“Getting better. She was up and walking around. She looked good.”

Jack nodded. A simple gesture…but the frown on his face tore at Morgan. Brows furrowed, eyes closed, jaw tight, he looked so damn sad. Regretful. Destroyed.

The sight took her aback, ripped at her heart. He actually…cared? That’s what it looked like. He couldn’t see her, had no reason to act something he wasn’t or didn’t feel. 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.

Sexually. Without him, Morgan had felt as if she’d been missing something significant.

No, more than that. She felt like she’d been missing half of herself.

Risk-taking had never been her forte, and taking the one she contemplated now scared the hell out of her. But if there was a chance, even a remote one, that she and Jack could get beyond this revenge of his and have something significant, even lasting… She’d be a first-class idiot not to find that out.

“Just answer me one question,” she demanded finally. “If I was able to forgive you for this stupid-ass vendetta you used me for and I said I wanted you to talk to me, what would you say?” Behind Jack, Deke pumped his fist in the air and nodded in approval. Lord, she’d forgotten he was there. Before she could tell him to get his ass out of the room, Jack hauled her against him. “I’d tell you that you’re what I’ve been searching for my whole life. I’d confess that I dreamed about you before I ever met you, and that the first time I got deep inside you I think I knew that you were meant to be mine. I’d tell you I love you.”

The swell of emotion behind those choked words undid nearly her, and Morgan felt her resistance crumbling even more.

The tears rushed back. Her mouth trembled. Her throat tightened. 

Her jaw shook with the effort to hold back the tears. How could the man get to her with a few perfect words? Damn it.

“Cher, I wish I could just growl a command at you and make you come back. But I can’t just control your emotions. It’s more important than growling at you to take off your little wet panties.”

He was giving her the power. Totally. He might order her around in the bedroom, but he wasn’t coercing her to give anything she wasn’t willing to. He wasn’t going to bully her into surrendering her heart. He wanted her to give it.

That fact shone from dark, red-rimmed eyes in a hollow,stubble-lined face that looked like he had felt nothing but hell for days.

The realization that he loved her and wanted her love in return slid over her like one of her mother’s quilts, soft, comforting, warm.

“I didn’t know what to say or do or how to get out of the mess I’d created.” His self-deprecating laugh scratched across her senses, igniting her heart.

“‘I’m sorry’ is a good start,” she whispered.

“I’m damn sorry. If I had it to do over again…I’d give you your interview, tell you that even though I hated Brandon, I wanted you more than anything in the world. Then I’d seduce you until leaving me was the last thing on your mind.”

“Better plan.”

“Smarter, that’s for sure.” Jack shrugged, dropped his hands. “But you’d have to forgive me.”

“You’d have to promise not to pull something this brainless again.”

“Promising that would be easy.”

“You’d have to agree to be nice to Brandon.”

Jack tensed. “We’ve made our peace. I don’t respect what he did…but I didn’t do much better. I don’t know that we’re ever going to be great friends again, but we’ll get along. I could make that happen.”

Morgan smiled. Insane, complex, drive-her-crazy man and his stunningly honest answer. “You’d have to promise to fulfill all my fantasies.”

That perked Jack right up. He crashed into her personal space again and crushed her against his chest. Morgan felt safe, felt like she’d come home.

“That’s a promise I’ll have no trouble keeping,” he whispered. “You got more fantasies I should know about?” “Just one at the moment.” She drew in a deep breath, tinged with the scent of Jack, solid and enigmatic all at once, the scent of hope and tomorrow and great sex to come.