Page 36 of Secret Crush

Chapter Thirteen

Alice opened the suitcase as John's "I love you" replayed in her ears. He was probably talking to Vicki, but her mind had flashed to the question of a girlfriend. As far as she recalled back in high school and college, he had never cheated on his girlfriends.

She unzipped all the containers that contained her overnight necessities as she decided that it definitely had been Victoria. Her mind still reeled on how someone dead just walked through the door without an explanation. Okay, they'd run off fast after the shooting incident, but like John, Alice wanted to know how Vicki had come back to life.

She flipped through the clothes and realized everything was both designer and in her size. The House of Morgan knew how to provide for their guests. The last designer dress Alice owned was something bought for her to be Victoria's escort to a Hollywood premiere. She found a light t-shirt and a pair of jeans, threw them on, and turned on her bare heel to go speak to John.

The hall was quiet as she approached.

He was in the dark living room staring out at the night. His muscular frame sat straight in the chair as he sipped a beer. Her heart did a pitter-patter in her chest as she took the seat next to him. "Do you have something to drink? I'm thirsty."

He turned and stared hard at her. He must have heard her coming. Alice expected his tone to be harsh and guarded, but then he took a swallow from his bottle of beer. "Are you still upset at me?"

She studied the tile to get her bearings, determined to be honest. In high school, she'd envisioned a fairy-tale life that money like her friend's might create and how miserable her friend was. "I don't want to be here and live in some bubble as if the real world doesn't exist."

His bare feet came into view as he stood. She lifted her face to him as he smiled. "I'll get you a drink. Are you hungry?"

Her stomach growled and her hands clutched her stomach to somehow muffle the sound. "A little. We never had the chance to eat at the funeral."

Death was a strange way to start a conversation. She gulped. He walked toward the kitchen. She stared at his strong backside and then jumped to follow him. She leaned against the doorway as he fixed her a plate of fully cooked chicken marsala and linguini. "When did you have time to cook?"

He shrugged as he placed the plates on the table. "I had security drop off supplies and that included a hot meal for tonight."

She stepped closer and turned around in the kitchen. Once again the Morgan family took care of details that took time out of the day for mere mortals like her. She sighed. "Add a glass of white wine and I promise I'll be nice."

He winked. "Deal."

John opened a drawer, revealing a full wine rack with a large selection of white to red. "Any particular kind?"

A genuine smile broke free as she brushed her hip against his leg. "Moscato. I've been feeling sweet lately."

"It's because you are sweet."

She shook her head, but said with a smile, "No flirting."

His gaze went up and down her body as he took stock of her figure in the designer jeans and cotton tee. "Why not?"

She picked up the wineglass and stepped back. "'Cause you confuse me. My real life is much different than your reality."

"I've been shot at a few times in the past few years."

She winced. "I was trying not to think about that."

He poured a glass for himself and then added a cork to the bottle. He clinked glasses with her. "It's why I'm keeping you here."

She sipped her wine and her face heated. She licked her lips to get the taste off. "Let's not talk about it."

He leaned one hand against the kitchen counter. "Okay. So how is my life different from yours?"

Sipping from the glass she cupped in her hands, Alice said, "I expect to work. I don't choose a career as payback to my father. I have to look after myself."

John tilted his head. "You work for your parents."

She lowered the glass to the counter, her hands resting on the granite. "They need me. My dad's heart condition changed everything. When Colt comes home, he's going to manage the farm and land. I studied business in college so I could ensure our farm stayed profitable even if we lost your family's accounts. Somehow we have to make this work."

He licked a drop of wine from his lower lip and her body tingled. "If you didn't need to do that anymore for them, what would you do?"

He'd turned the tables on her. She shrugged and relaxed as she stepped back. "Get a job. Part of me wishes I worked in my own store, perhaps doing something crafty to sell online, but I don't know what I'd do."

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