Page 62 of Decoding Morse

“Wonderful news.” With a glance at Morse, she added, “Theo’s room is available, too. Are you hungry? Can I make you anything to eat?”

We declined, and I shooed her away, prepared to play hostess and show Morse around, but his look of incredulity at the mention of it made me laugh.

“What? You don’t want the grand tour?” I asked.

“You’re cold and tired. You need to rest.”

I would have argued had I not lacked the energy to do so. Besides, I hated this house in all its gorgeous, pristine perfection. I may have grown up here, but it had always felt frigid and sterile, more like a museum than a home.

“Relax,” he said. “I’ve got you.”

His words made me realize how rigid my posture was. It was habit to straighten my shoulders and suck in my gut when I entered this house. I blew out a breath and forced my shoulders away from my ears. The understanding that splashed across Morse’s expression as he offered me his arm like some old-fashioned gentleman made me feel entirely too seen and vulnerable. He hadn’t grown up in wealth, but he’d been an outsider, too, and the man was nothing if not observant. I hooked my arm through his and guided him to the modest stairwell to the lower level, away from the fancy dual staircases that led up to the media room and my parents’ offices.

“It’s been two years since your last visit?” he asked as we padded down the stairs, our footfalls echoing off the hardwood.

“Yep. I only come when forced, and the last time was to enroll Theo in school.”

The keen way Morse watched my lips form words sent sparks through my bloodstream. I knew I was a frumpy, middle-aged mom whose left leg throbbed with every step, but his attention made me feel beautiful and fascinating. It was intoxicating.

I stopped in the doorway of my childhood room to point across the hall. “That’s Theo’s room. You could stay?—”

He was shaking his head before I finished the first sentence. “Nope. I already told you, I don’t want you out of my sight, Amelia. I’ll sleep on the floor.”

Clouds gathered in his eyes, promising me one hell of a storm if I fought him on this. That was fine because persuading him to leave my room was the last thing on my mind. A shudder that had nothing to do with the cold shot up my spine, pebbling my nipples that pressed painfully against the heavy body armor. Thought he’d sleep on the floor, did he? We’ll see about that.

“We need to get you out of this gear and warm you up,” he said, misinterpreting my body’s reaction.

Nodding, I stepped into the room, hurrying past the king-sized bed to turn on the gas fireplace in the corner. Morse stopped by the windows to take in the view of city lights below while I tugged off the biker vest he called a cut. Déjà vu hit hard as he turned and helped me out of my rain gear and bulletproof vest, leaving me in leggings and a blouse that had adhered to my clammy skin and would need to be peeled off. Since I hadn’t expected to be freezing my ass off on the back of a bike today, the bra I’d chosen had zero padding and did nothing to hide the state of my erect nipples. Based on the heat building in Morse’s gaze every time he lost the battle not to look, he’d noticed.

His phone buzzed. He tugged the burner out of his pocket and glanced at the screen. “Right on time.”

Jed had been texting us pictures of my daughter every half hour on the dot. Morse turned his phone around to show me the latest image. Morgan was curled up in an armchair surrounded by shelves of books, yet still reading on the tablet from her uncle, seemingly unaffected by our near-death experience and last-minute change of plans. I’d been afraid all these schedule modifications would send her into a full-on meltdown, but sheseemed to be handling this nightmare better than I was. Despite the updates, my stupid lizard brain kept insisting that my offspring was in danger and it was my duty to be there protecting her. It didn’t compute that my presence had put her in danger in the first place. The only thing keeping me from freaking out was the promise that Specks and Jed had made to protect Morgan with their lives and these regular proof-of-life pictures.

“We shouldn’t have come to Idaho,” I finally admitted. “It was foolish to put her life in danger to get her school paid for.”

Morse cupped my chin in his hand and lifted my gaze to meet his eyes. Heat flared between us, just like it always did when he touched me, making my panties wet despite the roiling emotions and self-recrimination. “It’s not your fault some bastard put a hit out on you. We still haven’t uncovered a motive or any suspects, making this entire situation seem unreal and difficult to grasp. You did what you thought best for Morgan at the time, and now that you have new data, you’ll adjust any future decisions accordingly. That’s all you can do. Can’t go back. Can’t change anything.”

He was so close; all I wanted to do was melt into him. His intense gaze swept over my face like he was studying a chessboard and plotting his next move. I licked my lips, emboldened by the way he clocked the sweep of my tongue.

He leaned in, but the goosebumps sprouting up my neck must have caught his attention because instead of kissing me like I wanted, he barked, “Shower?”

Startled, I pointed to the door on the other side of the fireplace. He grabbed my hand and pulled me into the en suite, slapping on the light as he deposited me in front of the dual sinks.

“I’ll be right on the other side of this door,” he said.

Then he fled, practically slamming said door behind him.

I slapped a hand over my mouth to hide my laughter because there’d been legitimate fear in his eyes and an enormous circus tent in his pants. Morse wanted me every bit as much as I wanted him, but we were both too awkward and hung up on the situation to do anything about it.

Of the two of us, I had the best chance of making something happen. Determined, I glanced in the mirror to give myself a pep talk, only to confirm that I looked like a battered girlfriend. No wonder Thelma had given Morse the evil eye. The harsh mirror lights were perfect for applying makeup, but they highlighted every bruise and cut right now, drawing too much attention to my under-eye bags.If they got any bigger, I could store loose change in them.

Ignoring all the problems I could do nothing about, I finger-combed the worst tangles from my hair. No amount of fluffing improved the flat areas, so I gave up and stripped off my leggings and shirt. That was when my confidence plummeted to the floor. Shivering my terrified ass off for half the day should have burned off some fat cells, but no, blubber clung to me. And this lighting, combined with the pale blue tinge of my clammy skin, made every dimple of cellulite glow.

What am I doing?

I wasn’t giving off MILF vibes, that was for sure. So what if his gaze felt like silk lingerie every time it slid over my body? Who cared that every time he was alone with me, he got hard? He was far too young for me and hadn’t even built a family yet. What if he wanted kids of his own? No serious relationship could come of getting it on. Right?

What would Thia say?

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