Page 15 of Shelter for Morgan

Her whole world narrowed down to the sound of his voice.

Was he really saying he wanted to eat with her or was he just trying to be nice?

The memory of her younger self inside of her spoke up. "Does it matter?"

"No," she whispered back, "mind your own damn business."

"Morgan?"

She winced, realizing that she might not have been as quiet as she'd tried to be.

She gave herself a mental shove.

Morgan unfolded her legs and bounced up from the bed. "Do you mind some help?"

When she pulled the door open, he was standing right there, one hand on the outside of the door frame.

The thought crossed her mind that if she was wearing heels, she could just about lean in and kiss him on the lips.

He gave her a ghost of a smile. "I'd love some help." He took a step back. "Want to start now?"

"Yeah." She smiled at him, and his smile widened in response. "I do."

He turned and headed for the kitchen, and she clapped her hands over her mouth and mentally kicked herself in the butt. 'I do.' OMG.

She moved out of her room and ducked into the bathroom to wash her hands.

When she turned off the water in the bathroom, she heard the water come on in the kitchen and it made her smile.

It was nice to know that she wasn't the only one in her space and knowing that it was Palmer, who had occupied quite a bit of her thoughts over the years, made her smile and stand a little taller.

She walked into the kitchen ready to dig in and found that Palmer already had most of the things ready to cook. "Uh, well, it looks like you didn't need me to help at all."

The instant the words were out of her mouth she wanted to claw them back in.

"I mean-"

"I get it," he smiled at her and gestured for her to come closer. "It's just that I generally prep things on one of my free days during the week and then I just take out the ingredients I need for the meal. I'm not big on the cutting and measuring for each meal."

She beamed and moved closer, leaning against the wall beside the kitchen counter. "I love chopping stuff up-"

He gave her a look with one raised brow.

"Food, not bodies."

He grinned. "Good. I don't have to lock up the knives at night."

She gave him a bit of a glare and he chuckled.

"If it's not obvious," he sighed, "I like to watch crime TV. Law & Order the original is a favorite."

"Really? You spend long shifts as a firefighter, and you come home to watch crime shows? Not Chicago Fire or Station 19?"

He shook his head and picked up a pork chop, turning it onto its edge as he scored the thin layer of fat on the edges. "It's like bringing work home with me. Crime shows... it's like seeing how the other half live." He winced a little before looking at her. "Does that make any sense?"

She nodded. "I can see that. I mean, if I was a doctor I don't think I'd want to come home and watch Quincy."

"Quincy?"

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