Like Caleb did.
Even now, his attention never wavered from her. Dressed in a pair of worn denim cutoffs and a black tank and sporting bare feet, he was completely droolworthy. His arms were corded with muscle that had nothing to do with the gym, and his jeans cupped his hard thighs and ass in loving abandon. Her heart picked up the pace at his sexy half grin, curving those luscious lips and making her burn for another taste. His look promised her he’d treat her better than the dogs, and Morgan had no doubts he was right. Her body already craved to melt her clothes off and offer itself up to all of his ministrations. She knew it would be perfect between them. The sex, that is. But Morgan had already made her decision that she couldn’t sleep with him. He was way too dangerous. She hadn’t trusted her body to fight, though, and knew her mind was iffy when it came to saying no to such pleasure. So Morgan had done the only logical thing women did to keep themselves from falling into bed with a man.
She hadn’t shaved her legs.
Under her proper white pants and lemon chiffon blouse, she had a dirty secret. In the tub, soaking from the day’s stressful activities, she’d picked up the razor, then promptly put it back. Knowing her stubble would keep her firmly chaste, she decided to forgo the feminine ritual. That would guarantee that if they shared a kiss and it began to get too far, she’d stop it. No way would she allow a man to see her naked for the first time and not stubble-free. That would be so humiliating, her brain would eventually kick in and stop all fun activities. Morgan kept the knowledge firmly wrapped around her like a security blanket. At least she could bask in his company, admire his gorgeous body, eat a good meal, and go home safe.
“I appreciate the invite,” she said politely. “Will your brothers be joining us?”
He snorted and led her into the kitchen. With graceful, economical motions, he untwisted the cork and popped it off the champagne bottle. It flinched in his grip and gave a soft whoosh. “Hell no. And I apologize for the interruption the other night. Tristan is spending the night in Manhattan, and Dalton won’t be coming home.”
She slid onto one of the kitchen stools and put her purse down. The dogs settled happily by her feet. “It’s fine. Probably better that Tristan stopped us when he did before things went too far. Were you able to talk to Dalton about the inspection?”
His face darkened. Curiosity simmered regarding their past. Had Dalton really slept with his fiancée? The idea of Cal engaged to another woman made her tummy lurch with nerves. What type of woman did he really want? She burned with a thousand questions but doubted one would get answered. Cal seemed to guard his past as well as she did hers. One recognized the other well. It was so much easier to keep things light. The moment the closet door swung open, too many bones burst out, and shoving them back in was a real bitch of a chore.
“Yeah, I talked to him. Said he could fix it. If not, I have a contact who’ll help me. He owes me a favor.”
She raised a brow. “Why does that line make me nervous?”
Cal poured champagne into two flutes and slid one over to her. “No mob, I promise. Just a good friend who gave me one rabbit in the hat to pull. I say this situation calls for the pull.”
“Dalton may fix it, and you won’t need to use your only favor.”
“We’ll see. When it comes to my youngest brother, trust is not a word I use lightly.”
“Because of your ex-fiancée?” The words tumbled out before she was able to catch them. Heat burned her cheeks. Hadn’t she just given herself a mental pep talk about keeping things light?
He regarded her for a while before lifting the glass to his lips and taking a sip. He never took his hot gaze off her face. “Probably. It broke the trust. Then afterward he refused to tell me the truth.”
“How do you know he wasn’t telling the truth?”
“My brother is a master at putting moves on women. He’d been jealous of getting pushed aside in the business, and this was his way of getting even. It coincided with a huge fight we had. Guess he got the last laugh after all.”
“I see.” He’d finally answered one of her important questions. Cal had been so blinded by love, he’d chosen to believe his brother was the liar rather than face the truth that he’d been played. Much easier to turn all that disgust and anger toward a sibling. The closest people in life usually got the worst of the emotional carnage. What if Dalton really had been trying to tell his brother a hard truth Cal hadn’t wanted to hear? “Did you ever sit and get the full story?”
“No need. Besides, it’s the past, and we’re both tired of dredging it up. How about you? Any broken love affairs to share?”
She flinched and took a sip of champagne. The bubbles danced in her throat. Tit for tat? Morgan kept her voice light, trying to give him information without the truth. “Ex-fiancé. Elias. He was the proper Southern gentleman ready to offer me a proper Southern life. It worked well for a while until life got a bit messy.”
His gaze narrowed. How was it those light gray eyes could turn to smoky charcoal when he got all intense? “He didn’t want to stick?”
She drank more champagne and gave a tiny laugh. “Yep. He did me a favor. I would’ve been bored and stuck in a role that wasn’t for me. Now he’s married with kids and has the perfect life he dreamed of. Hurtful, but not traumatic.”
“Liar.”
Her fingers jerked over the glass. A thin trickle of champagne fell on her hand. “What?”
Cal leaned forward. “I called you a liar. It was traumatic to you for some reason. Why did he leave you?”