Page 20 of Shelter for Morgan

But it wasn't until she was in the shower that she really heard his words.

Oh, wow.

She knew she was giving it more importance than he'd meant to put into his words, but she couldn't help herself.

Being in the apartment with Palmer was a heady thing.

Having him close enough to touch was an incredible temptation.

But she had to keep her mind on the prize.

Her job.

Sure, he was paying attention to her now, but when she moved out into a place of her own, he'd forget about her.

Morgan worked her shampoo into her hair and tried to ignore the physical reactions she'd had when she'd hugged him for bringing her coffee.

Palmer smelled good.

So, good.

She couldn't really name the scent but just thinking about it, about him, filled her nose with that memory. It was like cinnamon rolls, dripping with icing, or spice cake tickling her taste buds.

And just like that she wanted to lean in and breathe in his scent and maybe, just maybe, if she was really lucky, she'd get a chance to taste-

Her cell phone alarm blared, cutting through the torrent of water from the shower and she groaned.

“Fine.” She rinsed off. “Back to reality.”

RHETT

When he got to the station, some of the last shift were sitting at the breakfast table staring into their cups of coffee.

“You guys, okay?”

Taco drew in a long, deep breath of his coffee in the way a smoker takes a long drag off a cigarette. “We just got back.”

Squirrel nodded as if he was falling asleep. “After doing a check and cleanup on the truck, I barely made it in the door. Thank god someone started the coffee, or I might not be talking right now.”

“Sorry,” Rhett put a hand on Squirrel’s shoulder. “I didn’t see you between our last couple of shifts or I would have thanked you for talking to Morgan when she came to the station looking for me.”

Squirrel turned a little in his chair. “Oh? No problem! Happy to help.”

He fought back a yawn and Taco spoke up.

“Her car is awesome!” He lifted his coffee mug in salute. “Did she paint it herself?”

Rhett thought about her story and nodded. “Yeah, she said she had to pound out a dent when she bought it and instead of paying to repaint it, she bought spray paint.”

Taco nodded thoughtfully. “Is she teaching art at the high school?”

The thought struck an odd chord in Rhett. “No, she’s teaching history and civics.”

“Oh,” Taco sounded a little disappointed. “You should take her down to see the murals under Interstate Thirty-five. I think it’s between St. Mary’s and Elmira. I bet she’d like to see the art on the columns.”

“Morning, guys.”

They turned to look at the door as Chief Blaise walked in.

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