Page 12 of Decoding Morse

She flopped around like a fish on land. It was a good thing she was so sweet because this poor girl had some issues.

Morgan finally turned to face me. “You’re the one in danger, Mom.”

I winced. It would have been preferable for Morgan not to learn of that little detail, but she’d overhead Levi—or Morse, as I needed to remember to call him—laying out the facts. Besides, we’d stuffed our toiletries and more than a week’s worth of clothes in the back of Ravie for an impromptu sleepover at an undisclosed location. The cat was definitely out of the bag.

“This is likely all one big misunderstanding. We’ll figure it out.” Hopefully soon because Morgan didn’t do well with schedule modifications. We’d never stayed anywhere new without proper preparations, and she had one week of school left before spring break.

Morse signaled for me to follow and pulled out of my driveway. I did, with Thia hot on my tail in her Nissan Leaf. The other two bikers filed in behind Thia, turning this into the strangest motorcade I’d ever seen.

“I trust Morse,” Morgan said, surprising me.

I stared at the back of his biker vest. We’d talked him into borrowing one of Ted’s old coats, but he’d insisted on putting the leather over it. “You barely know him.”

“I know, but he’s trustworthy. I can tell. Besides, Dad considered him a close friend.”

“He did?” Ted had mentioned Levi a few times when he was in the service, but that was it.

“Yes,” was all she said.

Levi had given Morgan his number during Ted’s funeral, instructing her to use it if we ever needed anything. I’d only learned of that recently when her car started acting up, and the asshole who’d taken over for my old mechanic hadn’t fixed it. Morgan had produced the number and suggested I call Levi, who’d sent me the address of a repair shop that had handled the repairs and refused to charge me. I’d called to thank him and hadn’t spoken to him since.

Now, here he was, like some knight in a leather biker vest, ready to whisk us away from danger.

“Morse promised to watch over us when he gave me his number.”

Stopping for a light, I turned to gape at my daughter. My memories of Ted’s funeral were disjointed and blurry. I’d seen Levi there but hadn’t been able to focus on anything beyond crippling loss and loneliness.

“Why didn’t you mention that before?”

Morgan shrugged. “Lots of people said things at Dad’s funeral.”

What she didn’t say—didn’t have to say—was how all those people with their comforting words and promises had all but disappeared from our lives. I didn’t blame them. Grief made everyone uncomfortable, and we’d definitely been grieving.

Levi… no, Morse… had followed through with his promise, going as far as protecting me from the dark web. How the hell was I supposed to feel about that?

While I’d packed, he’d turned off the water to my running toilet, promising to fix it once the threat had passed. Then he’dhauled our luggage out to our cars and loaded it up. All while I endeavored not to drool over him. I couldn’t help it. The vision his ass presented in those jeans made the angel on my shoulder demand I get my ass to confession. I’d never been Catholic, but goddamn. Biceps and triceps and glutes, oh my! What was I supposed to do? Focus on his face? That was no less tempting. I couldn’t tell if I now had a thing for beards or if the intensity in his eyes was what made my thighs clench.

The demon on my shoulder—long ago lulled into a coma by grown-up responsibilities and grief—sat up and took notice, plotting out possible sins. I’d been into bad boys once, and the biker vibe was hot.

No,hewas hot.

And he’d been so desperate to get to me he hadn’t even worn a jacket.

Your life is in danger, this is not the time for a mid-life crisis.

This was still Levi, no matter what name he now went by. He wasn’t here to seduce me but to rescue me. He was eight years younger than me, for crying out loud. Still, there was something about how he’d marched in and taken charge of the situation like nobody else ever had.

I’d always been the one who handled everything.

I was a military wife, after all.

Being cared for felt… unexpectedly reassuring. Especially since I sure as hell didn’t know what to do in the situation.

However, as I followed Morse into the parking lot of an old fire station and he gestured for me to slide into a space past the rows of motorcycles, I worried I might have been so distracted by his looks and intensity that I’d misread him.

Not knowing what else to do, I parked and turned off Ravie. In an epic show of solidarity that reminded me why she was my best friend, Thia parked beside me. We climbed out of our vehicles, casting dubious looks at the bikes, the building, the twosketchy bikers smoking by the door, and the entire situation in general.

Morse and the rest of our biker escort had parked near the building and now had their heads together, conversing in hushed tones.

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