Chapter 5
Chapter five
It was easy to say yes to spending more time together.
Morgan, despite how used to being alone he’d become since leaving San Francisco, was the sort of introvert who still appreciated company as long as it was a person he liked.
If he couldn’t have his sister, then Ty was the next best thing. Better, in a lot of ways.
Not that Katie hadn’t made the offer to fly out and spend time with him once she found out what he’d done to himself. That was how Morgan knew she was really worried; it took an emergency to get her to hop on a plane.
“You should go to a hospital!” she’d snapped once Morgan finally got his phone charged enough to use it from Ty’s place.
Days of radio silence had rattled her, and finding out he was injured on top of that made her a little shouty.
It was one of the few habits she’d picked up from their father, and usually she was better about reeling it in, but not when she thought Morgan was being reckless.
“I’m feeling much better.”
“Oh, he’s feeling much better, that’s great. You could have brain damage.”
“I don’t have brain damage,” Morgan scoffed. “It’s mostly my shoulder, honestly, and yes, I’ll go and get it checked out once I can pilot the boat again.”
“Just get Ty to take you! You said you’ve been getting along with him, right?”
Yes, he had, but … “He likes his space.”
“If he’s a real friend, he’ll give a little in order to make sure you’re whole and healthy.”
“He’s already given up his privacy for me, not to mention his bed,” Morgan said. “I don’t feel like pushing it right now.”
Katie’s tone changed a bit. “His bed, huh?”
“Stop it.”
“No, no, please go on. You say he’s given up his bed? Does that mean you’re in it together, or is it you all by your lonesome?”
Not that it was any of her business, but … “Me alone.”
“Huh. You sound kind of bummed about that.”
I feel kind of bummed about that. “I wish I wasn’t putting him out,” Morgan said. “That’s all. How’s Nicki?”
The change in subject was blatant, but she let it go.
“Kicking ass and taking names in tennis. Her coach is amazing, thank you for getting her lessons. That was so nice of you.” She paused.
“Let me know if you want to stop paying for them at any time, okay? I don’t expect you to subsidize our lives. ”
“I know,” Morgan said with a little smile.
That was why he felt comfortable doing it—because he was sure his sister would never try to take advantage of him.
It was getting to the point where he could barely say “hello” to his mother before she started asking him to renovate her two-year-old kitchen or pay to get her latest boyfriend hair implants.
Considering the speed at which they came and went, that was a losing proposition for his mother—she’d never stick with one of them long enough to see his new hairline grow out.
“I appreciate you letting me do it. Speaking of, you need to pick the car you want for Christmas.”
Katie snorted. “Shut up, you’re not really going to buy me a car for Christmas.”
“Yes, I am.”
“No, you’re not. Save your money for a first-class flight home for Thanksgiving instead.”
He could buy an entire plane and not make a huge dent in his payout, but he knew Katie wouldn’t care. She might care about this, though. “I don’t think I’ll be home for Thanksgiving. Not with my—you know. The shoulder. It’s easier if I stay here.”
“Oh.” She was quiet for a moment. “I mean, that’s fine. Of course, you don’t want to travel when you’re hurt, that would suck.” Her voice gained a little strength. “No, rest up and come home for Christmas instead. I’ll handle Mom.”
Oh God, Mom. Her last five messages had all been about Thanksgiving and the huge party she wanted to throw. “I can call her.”
“The hell you can, don’t put yourself through that. I’ll tell her. She’ll be less tempted to fly out and take care of her ‘baby boy’ that way.”
Morgan laughed. “Mom would never come all the way to Parrish Island, you know that. She hates this place.”
“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean she wouldn’t push you to join her in a five-star hotel somewhere. And you seem happy where you are, so let’s not tempt fate, huh?”
His sister was the best. “I’d be happy buying you a Porsche too.”
She made a squawking sound. “Don’t buy me a Porsche, are you crazy?”
“It would be better than your twenty-year-old Ford Focus.”
“Hey, I drove you to school in that thing.”
“I know.” Oh, he remembered. Even new, it hadn’t been much of a car. “And now it’s time for me to drive you around, in absentia. Pick a car. If you go too cheap, I’ll just upgrade you,” he added.
“Are you trying to make Mom jealous?”
“I bought her a Mercedes Benz just last year!”
“Yeah, but she likes this year’s model better, or so she says.”
Of course, she does. Still, she was his mother. “Well, fine, maybe she can have an upgrade too.”
His big sister sighed. “Morgan. You’re too nice, you know that?
No wonder Bentley is going crazy. I’ll email you some options, but this is your warning notice, mister.
No Porsches!” There was a clatter on the other end of the call.
“Shit, Nicki’s climbing the bookshelf again, we’ll talk soon!
” She was gone before he could ask exactly what she meant with the reference to his ex.
He better not be fucking with her again. It was almost enough to make Morgan want to get back to the lighthouse now. He couldn’t even load his email on his phone from where he was, the connection was so bad, but with his hot spot at the lighthouse he could—
No. He wasn’t going to go there. If Katie had an issue with Bentley that she thought Morgan could help with, she would tell him.
Otherwise, he was going to maintain his damn discipline and not fall back into the bad habit of doomscrolling, and that included in his email.
His family could reach him, and his attorney could reach him.
That was all the outside world got from him.
Besides, he was having an actual good time now.
Yesterday was the first time he’d felt well enough to go out in the boat, which had felt like a sure sign that Ty was going to suggest he go back to the lighthouse.
Instead, Ty had helped him into one of his thick, cozy, cable-knit sweaters “to keep you warm.” It felt like wearing a hug.
Then he took him out on the water far enough that they ended up floating right over the top of a thick bed of kelp, and he handed him a fishing pole.
“There’s a whole school of greenlings down at the bottom of this,” he said. “Let’s see if you can catch any of them.”
Morgan stared blankly at him. “I don’t know how to fish.”
“You’ve fished before.”
“Yeah, the last time I was here, but it’s been almost twenty years since then,” he protested. “I don’t even remember how to bait a hook.”
Ty just hummed and smiled. “Mmm, better practice, then. They have small mouths, so use a number four.” He’d already prepared his hook and flung it out into the water with the effortless ease of a seasoned fisherman.
A number-four hook? What the … Morgan looked into the tackle box and hunted around until he found a compartment with handy labels, one of which read #4. The only bait available was tiny clams and worms, so he went with a clam. Then he looked down. “How do I get the hook through the kelp?”
“Throw it out ahead of it, then let the current carry it down,” Ty said. “Put a sinker on it, though,” he added with a glance at Morgan’s line.
Sinker, sinker … Eventually, Morgan had something on his hands that got a nod of approval from Ty, and using one hand, he awkwardly cast the line out into the water.
It went about ten feet.
“Shit.”
“Let me help you,” Ty said, and reeled it back in. He stabilized Morgan’s hand as he let the rod fall back and away, then helped hold it steady as he flung it forward again. “Good.”
Probably not, but Morgan would take it.
Fishing had never captivated him, but after almost a week pent up in a tiny, two-room cabin that let in little light, it was a contender for becoming his favorite thing ever.
They spent a few hours in the boat and managed to catch three fish—two by Ty and, to his surprise, the biggest of the lot by Morgan—and Ty graciously handled the gutting and scaling himself before putting them in the cooler and taking them back in.
Morgan had been tired enough after it all that he’d fallen fast asleep without getting a chance to read to Ty …
or maybe he’d done it deliberately and just didn’t want to admit it.
They were down to the last few chapters of Wolf Dictionary, and he had a strange feeling that once it was over, this interlude would be too.
He didn’t want it to end, though, was the thing.
Ty was more than a good person, he was good company.
He’d helped break Morgan out of the funk that had been consuming him for months, and he’d nursed him through the worst of his injuries without a hint of complaint at being relegated to his own floor.
He was quiet at the right times, talkative when Morgan needed to talk, and damn funny when he wanted to be.
Morgan didn’t want the closeness they were developing to stop when his independence restarted, but …
Put it out of your mind for now. When Ty put the dirty plates in the sink and pulled his chair in a bit closer, Morgan smiled at him. “Ready for a little more?”
“Yes, please.”
Morgan opened up the book. “Springtime. Early morning, blue sky. In the high mountains there is still quite a bit of snow left in deep drifts.”