Page 16 of Decoding Morse

“Will you lower your voice?” I whisper-shouted. “He’s right outside. And he’s eight years younger than me.”

“Oh, honey, I don’t think he gives a single fuck about your age.”

She was being ridiculous.

“It’s not like that. We haven’t been in contact since he went into the service. I haven’t seen or heard from him since Ted’s funeral. Well, other than Morgan’s car.”

“Which brings me to my next point.” She tapped a finger against her chin. “He obviously paid or cashed in a favor for the repairs. And he’s been monitoring your name on the dark web. That’s romantic, in a borderline personality disorder, paranoid sort of way, right?”

“Nothing romantic about it. More likely a misguided sense of obligation because Ted and I helped him out.”

“How long did he stay with you?”

I shrugged. “A little over six months. Why?”

“And he never made a move on you?”

“Of course not. He was eighteen, and I was married to his recruiter with two children. The leader of the cult he escapedfrom sicced the dogs on him, and I doctored his leg. When he recovered, he helped me with my charity, gave me a hand with the kids and housework, and we became friends. He was always a perfect gentleman.”

“Well, honey, I would bet my entire shoe collection that yourperfect gentlemanwants you to sit on his face.”

“Look at me.” I gestured at my body, acutely aware of how different it looked from how it had looked seventeen years ago. I weighed about thirty pounds more than I had at Morse’s age, most of which was around my middle. “Did you see the women downstairs? Even if there wasn’t an age gap, guys rocking bodies like Morse’s are not into women who look like me. There’s no way.”

“Shut your face right now before I slap it off. Any single, heterosexual male between the ages of twenty and one hundred would be stupid not to want to get with you.”

“Thanks. I think.”

“Point is, any biker here would be lucky to have you. Don’t sell yourself short, Amelia. You’re pretty fuckin’ incredible.”

She always knew how to hit me right in the feels.

“I love you. You know that, right?”

She grinned. “Of course you do. I’m pretty fuckin’ incredible, too.”

7

Morse

AMELIA WAS CHECKING out my ass.

Of course, I noticed. It was my job to observe every detail, and I’d been tracking her reflection on every shiny surface we passed. Her gaze had been glued to my ass throughout most of the tour. I played with my fidget spinner ring, trying to process that unexpected nugget of new information. It’s not like it mattered. After all, what could I do with the data?

Ask her out?

I coughed, muffling the sardonic laugh that couldn’t quite be contained.

Amelia cocked her head and gave me a quizzical look, but I waved her off.

Sure. Like she’d ever want someone as fucked-up as me.

I led her back downstairs and into the conference room we used for non-church meetings involving civilians. Specks, Tap, and Hound were huddled around the massive roundtable with their laptops open and ready. Link raised his attention from his phone, and Havoc and Wasp stopped talking when we entered.All eyes zoomed in on Amelia. The nosey bastards were likely wondering who she was to me, so I stepped forward, shielding her from their probing inspection.

I introduced her as Ted’s wife only to immediately correct her status to widow.

My brothers introduced themselves, and chairs noisily scraped on vintage wood flooring as we sat around the table.

“I’m sorry this shit is happening to you,” Link said, getting down to business. “Thank you for taking the time to meet with us.”

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