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Chapter 4
Morgan raised her hands overhead, drawing in a deep breath and blowing it out. With another deep breath, she stretched her left leg behind her until she reached it with both hands and lifted it higher, closing her eyes to enjoy the stretch.
"Oh, uh, oh…"
Morgan didn't open her eyes at the sound of surprise behind her. Buck's room hadn't allowed much room for yoga, so she had spread a blanket out on the floor in the living room.
She released her foot and slowly lowered her leg, focusing on her balance. When she finally looked over her shoulder, Buck's roommate was standing there, beet red and stammering.
Morgan quickly took the hair band from her hair to release the ponytail she wore and finger combed her hair over her shoulders to conceal the bruises at the base of her throat. Not that it mattered. JD was looking anywhere but at her. Every time his gaze landed on her fitted tank or leggings, they bounced away somewhere else.
Morgan bit back a grin at his obvious discomfiture. How someone so nervous around women could possibly be roommates with her brother was a mystery to her.
"Morning, JD," she offered.
"Yep. I mean, uh, good morning." His eyes were darting anywhere but her so quickly she wondered if he was having some sort of seizure.
"Do you want to join me for some yoga?" Morgan asked.
The high pitched wheeze the guy emitted made the question worth asking. "I have a girlfriend!" he finally exclaimed.
"Good for you," Morgan said.
JD gave his head a shake. "I just need to get breakfast," he said, making a move like he was going to edge around the very outskirts of the room to get past her.
Morgan took pity on him and took a step back to give him clearance to get past her. He disappeared into the kitchen like she would chase him and Morgan bit the inside of her cheek to hold back the smile that threatened. She glanced at the clock and realized Buck may not sleep too much longer, which meant he wouldn't be on the couch in the small den and she really didn't think he would be as oblivious to the bruises as JD was. Picking up the blanket and draping it back over the couch where she had found it, she hurried upstairs to get showered and dressed.
In Buck's room, she studied her reflection in the mirror over his dresser. The bruises had faded enough that she choose a crew neck t-shirt, carefully styling her long hair to fall forward over her shoulders as camouflage.
There was a knock at her door as she was finishing her make-up.
"You decent in there?" Buck called through the door.
"As decent as I get," she answered.
Buck opened the door with a grin, recognizing the response their ma had always called out. "You sleep good?"
Morgan looked over her shoulder in the mirror at the way Buck's hair stuck up, his pajama pants and ATF t-shirt wrinkled after a night on the couch. "Better than you," she said, frowning. She set aside her mascara and turned to face him. "I really appreciate you letting me crash with you for the weekend," she said.
Buck waved off the thanks. "I love havin' you here. You know that." He bypassed the dresser and went to the hamper, pulling out a shirt, giving it a smell, and shrugging before keeping it with him and grabbing a pair of jeans off the floor next to the hamper. He thankfully got a clean pair of rolled up socks from the dresser.
Morgan finished lining her lips and applied the glossy lipstick over it. "Could I borrow your truck today?" she asked casually, keeping her eyes on the mirror.
A frown creased Buck's forehead. "You going somewhere today?"
"Just a couple errands," she said. Finished with her make-up, she had no excuse not to turn back to Buck.
"Yeah, sure. You want me to go with you? The team's comin' over later, but I'm free for the day."
Morgan shook her head, making sure not to look horrified at the idea of Buck coming with her. "No, I've got it covered on my own."
"You sure?" Buck asked. "What errands do you have?"
Morgan fixed him with a look. "Female ones."
The answer worked as surely as it always had. Buck nodded quickly, backing toward the door.
"The keys are on the hook by the back door," Buck said. "You just, uh, let me know if, um, you need…yep." He hurried out the door, leaving Morgan alone with relief. She turned back to her bags, adding a lacy cardigan and armful of bracelets to dress up her outfit.
She picked up her purse, checked that she had the list of addresses on her phone, and headed for the stairs.
#
"I brought the good stuff," Chris said, coming through the door behind Josiah and holding up two six packs.
Josiah, unoffended, turned back to Chris. "Brother, kombucha is the good stuff." He held up his own glass bottle. "Good for the body and the soul."
"Is that the stuff that tastes like pond scum?" JD asked.
Chris headed to the kitchen to put his offerings in the fridge, not hearing Josiah's answer for the their youngest teammate.
Buck was there, looking at his phone.
"Something wrong?" Chris asked.
Buck looked up, glancing around the kitchen to make sure no one had followed Chris in. "I heard back from the airline. Morgan bought a one way ticket to Denver. Nothing for a return trip."
Chris frowned. "Have you asked her about it?"
Buck's look said Chris was a fool for even asking. Chris nodded. Morgan kept her cards close to her vest in normal circumstances. He couldn't imagine she would offer up any information about her sudden visit until she wanted to. And maybe not even then.
"I'm going to have JD look into Morgan's school records. See if something's going on there."
"Hang on," Chris tried to head his longtime friend off. "You know what she'll do if she finds out you've been poking around into her business?"
Buck tossed his phone on the counter. "Well, what do you suggest? Just let her throw away her scholarship, her education? Not go back to school?"
"Just give her some time," Chris said. Then against his better judgment, "Have JD look into her school records."
Buck nodded, relief on his face at having a plan, even one in a slightly gray area of legality.
Chris pulled out two bottles of beer and left the rest in the fridge. He handed one to Buck. "Where is Morgan?"
Buck twisted the top off his beer. "Running errands. For the last five hours." He guzzled down some beer and Chris figured Morgan's disappearance wasn't sitting well with Buck after he started finding more questions than answers with his sister.
"Come on." Chris started toward the living room, listening to the laughter coming from out there. "Watch the game, give her some space. We'll have JD do some digging later on."
For all his show of calm, Chris' senses were prickling at the idea of Morgan showing up without warning, and apparently no intention of going back. He had seen her dig her heels in without blinking too many times to count, so the idea of her running from something had him more than a little concerned about what that 'something' could be.
There was a rap at the door and Vin came in without waiting for an answer. He held another six pack of beer. Chris didn't miss the way the sniper scanned the room, and he didn't have any doubt who Vin was looking for.
Chris changed course, following Vin into the kitchen. He watched silently as the younger man stowed the beer in the fridge.
"She's not here," Chris said.
Vin straightened, closing the door to the refrigerator. He didn't play dumb, meeting Chris' eyes without wavering.
"You need to think about what you're doing," Chris finally said. He wasn't a gentle man by nature, and wasn't able to soften the words even though he meant them for Vin's benefit.
It wasn't in Vin's nature to argue, but Chris saw the younger man's jaw tighten. "I ain't doin' anything."
Chris glanced over his shoulder to make sure no one was coming into the kitchen, then lowered his voice. "Morgan's complicated. And I know you've picked up on something being off with her."
Vin didn't say anything.
Chris tried to let Vin hear the concern he felt for his friend. "After Charlotte, what she put you through, what you were willing to do—"
"Morgan ain't Charlotte," Vin said tightly. "And I didn't say nothin' about havin' feelings for her like Charlotte."
A sigh dragged out of Chris. No, Morgan wasn't Charlotte. She would never use Vin. But Vin's protective nature could—would—get the best of him. And Chris didn't know if any of them could handle the months of Vin spiraling again, like he had after Charlotte. But, for all Vin's protests, Chris had seen the way the younger agent watched Morgan, the way he volunteered to drive her home, the concern when he looked at her.
"Morgan's a good girl—a great girl," Chris tried again. "But you need to stay away from her."
Vin's eyes flashed. "Is that an official order?"
"It's a friend trying to save you some heartache."
Vin gave him a short nod, but his lack of a response just added to Chris' unease that had started with Morgan's arrival. Chris let him pass to get back out to the others. He blew out a breath and dragged a hand over his face. He wasn't sure how he had ended up nursemaid and den mother for six of the most willful and troublesome men in the ATF.
#
Morgan sat in Buck's old truck, parked in front of his townhouse, her hands still wrapped around the steering wheel in a tight grip. She stared blankly out the windshield.
She thought idly about her small car back in Vegas. She would have to figure out how to get it to Denver. And the rest of her belongings. She knew the girls in her sorority were breaking the rules by storing her things there still.
The familiar feeling of anger started building. The fury and frustration at the injustice of everything that had happened. And now the worry that she wouldn't be able to find a job in Denver. That she would be dependent on Buck, that she would have to tell him—
No. She wasn't going there. She would get this figured out. She would get things under control, leave everything that happened in Vegas behind her. It didn't matter that her job search had turned up nothing today. She would make this work.
Taking in a deep breath she looked at her reflection in the rearview mirror, making sure than none of her thoughts came across on her face. She uncapped a tube of lipstick from her purse and touched up her makeup for good measure. Making sure her loose waves of auburn hair covered any risk of bruises peeking out of the collar of her shirt, she finally got out of the truck.
Buck stood from his chair when she walked in, worry in his eyes. "You ok?" he asked. "You were gone a long time."
She brushed off his concern, dropping her purse and his keys on a table near the door while she glanced at his teammates. "I'm fine."
He looked at her empty hands and Morgan realized she should have brought back some sort of evidence of the errands she had claimed to be running. She opted for scanning the men in the room instead of giving Buck any more attention. She winked at JD and he turned beet red, looking back at the game on the large screen TV. She deliberately avoided looking toward Vin.
"Hi, Morgan," one of the men said. "I don't think Buck introduced us. I'm Nathan."
Morgan gave him a slight smile. "Nice to meet you."
Buck stepped in then, pointing out Josiah and Ezra, who had already introduced himself to her the day before.
"Are you going to watch the game?" Josiah asked.
Morgan gave him a look that said how she felt about football.
"Morgan hates football," Buck explained.
"Football is for pansies," she clarified, knowing how much it would rile Buck, a former football player in high school.
Buck's eyes narrowed at her familiar statement and Chris' lips curved into a smile.
"Pansies?" Josiah asked, a hint of a smile on his own face.
Morgan waved a hand toward the players on the TV. "All that padding and helmets. They get a break to regroup after every play." She glanced past Vin again, ignoring him even though she could feel his eyes on her. "Besides the spread is better for ultimate fighting."
Ezra sat up at that. "You're a betting woman?" he asked, interest glinting in his green eyes.
Morgan glanced at the television, then back to Ezra. "Broncos by twelve," she said.
"Nope," Buck said, stepping between her and his friend. He fixed Morgan with a look. "You're not gambling with him."
Morgan stared at Buck unblinking. She nudged him out of the way and turned her attention back to Ezra. "I'll put fifty on the Broncos winning by twelve."
Ezra started to answer, but Buck spun around and pinned him with a look. Ezra held up his hands in mock surrender. As soon as Buck turned away, satisfied he had things under control, Ezra gave Morgan a nod, accepting her bet.
Morgan slipped off her four inch heels and took the only open seat, the arm of the chair Chris occupied. Chris shifted to accommodate her.
"You know you're going to lose that bet, right?" Chris asked. "Ezra probably called his bookie, looked up the odds, and has bets riding on it all across town."
Morgan flicked a finger at Chris' shoulder. "The challenge is half the fun," she countered. "Just like winning you over, Chris Larabee," she teased, leaning into his personal space. She leaned over just far enough to threaten a kiss, then swiped his beer.
Chris went still and, too late, Morgan realized what she had done.
"Sarah used to do that," Chris said quietly.
At the mention of his wife, the teasing left Morgan. Her heart squeezed at memories. "Yeah," she said, matching his quiet tone. "She's the one who taught me." She reached a hand over and gave his a light squeeze, before pulling away, knowing Chris wouldn't want an emotional display. "I miss her, too," she whispered. Then she turned back to JD, giving Chris space for his grief.
"Did you ever play football, JD? Or were you more of a synchronized swimming fan?"
JD frowned indignantly. "Hey!"
Morgan gave Chris' shoulder a light touch before getting up. "I'll get another beer," she said, handing Chris back his bottle.
In the kitchen, she didn't stop, but kept walking out the back door. Outside she sucked in the fresh air.
Barefoot, she stood on the slightly overgrown lawn, closing her eyes and enjoying the feel of grass under her feet. At least that was better than the rocky yards of Vegas. She tried to keep her thoughts here, in Buck's backyard, and not think of Sarah. Of Adam.
Thoughts of the little boy she had loved like her own nephew moved the clenching in her chest to a stinging in her eyes. It had been five years since the fire, and she still missed the little boy. Still missed Sarah who had treated her like a sister, never questioning Morgan's background or the women who raised her.
"You ok?"
Morgan whirled around.
Vin held his hands out to the side in a nonthreatening gesture of peace.
"I'm fine," she snapped. She turned away and tried to push her fingertips against the tears that threatened beneath her eyelids without smudging her makeup and giving everyone a clear sign of her emotions.
She felt Vin's presence next to her, the warmth that seemed to radiate of the man like a beacon to someone lost at sea. She stiffened. She didn't need it. She wasn't lost.
"Here," Vin said in that quiet drawl and Morgan felt a piece of cloth being pressed into her hand.
She looked down at the clean blue bandana Vin had apparently pulled from his pocket. She wondered briefly what kind of throwback this guy was with his boots and a handkerchief in his pocket. But she took it and tried to press at her tears without streaking mascara and eyeliner across her face.
Without a word, Vin took the cloth back from her. He raised his hand, then paused, giving her a chance to refuse his help. Morgan told herself she would needed his help if she didn't want Buck and Chris knowing she had been crying. That was all. It had nothing to do with Vin's gentle touch, his face close to hers as he looked down at her and carefully wiped at any evidence of her tears.
"There you go," he said, his voice husky, and his lips way too close to hers.
The ache in her chest had changed into a tightness that came from wanting him to move closer. She felt one of her hands raising up to reach for him, to pull him towards her.
She caught herself in time. She slapped a flat palm against his chest. His firm chest.
Stop it, she ordered herself. She couldn't do this. She wasn't opening herself up to the kind of pain a relationship could bring. She gave him a shove away.
Vin backed away willingly.
"Stay away from me," Morgan said. "I don't need you or your help."
"You're gonna just take care of yourself?" Vin asked.
Morgan narrowed her eyes at him. "I've been doing fine taking care of myself for years."
Vin's eyes flicked toward where the bruises lay just beneath the collar of her shirt.
"I took care of that," she insisted. By running away to Denver. Not exactly taking care of things, but Vin didn't need to know that. He just needed to stay far away from her and stop stirring up these feelings she didn't want anything to do with.
She jabbed a finger toward him. "Just stay out of my business. I don't want you anywhere near me. I saw you sitting in your Jeep outside until Buck got home last night," her voice started to rise. "I'll take care of myself," she said again.
"Ok," he said.
She stared at him, lips pressed in a thin line while she waited for him to say something more, argue with her or promise to leave her alone, but he didn't. Just 'ok' and then stood there watching her with those clear blue eyes.
She glared at him for a lingering moment before spinning on her heel and storming inside, trying to get away from the storm of emotions that threatened her.
She had damn well better win that fifty bucks from Ezra to make this day worth something.
#
