FIVE | Mr. Morgan | Tinsley
FIVE
Mr. Morgan
Tinsley
T he limousine driver, who I discovered was named Albert, greeted me at the back door and held it open. I got inside and luxury surrounded me—a sight I wasn’t used to, and uncertainty stirred in the pit of my stomach. Should I even be doing this?
No.
The answer was obvious and simple. Point blank. But I had lost all my marbles.
All the shiny new things helped me overlook my irresponsible actions—the premium chocolates, the expensive bottles of white and red wine that sparkled against the crystal wine glasses, and the seats were made of smooth leather. There was even relaxing Christmas music playing throughout the limousine. The classic “I’ll be Home for Christmas,” but I had a sneaking suspicion I might not be home soon.
I watched through tinted glass as the handsome man who I had agreed to marry gave Albert instructions, and the man with an all too serious appearance nodded. The driver opened the door, and a musky scent followed that wasn’t there before. The earthy smell circled me and pulled me in as my eyes closed, and I breathed it in. A shiver ran down my spine, and I was lightheaded—lost in an aroma that felt like forever but only several seconds passed by. The car door latched shut and broke me from the fragrance coma induced by the man seated beside me. Someone I had only met and barely knew, but I had gone to first base with.
My eyes shot open, and I turned slightly in his direction. “So, who is the man I’m about to marry?”
The vehicle went forward at a slow pace as buildings passed through the window behind his head, and I watched him turn toward me. His hands fussed with the collar of his jacket as he readjusted it, and he got comfortable for the ride. But his intense hazel eyes whirled with some emotion I couldn’t recognize until he smiled. Amusement.
“I was wondering when you were going to ask me that,” he answered with a lick of his lips and a graze of his teeth over his bottom lip. “I’m Mitt. Mr. Mitt Morgan.”
Butterflies swarmed in my belly and heat spread across my cheeks. A sure mix of embarrassment, attraction, and stupidity. But I wasn’t alone in the lack of communication department and kissing someone before knowing their freaking name.
“Well, Mr. Morgan, I guess we ah...” I cleared my throat from the sudden frog caught inside of it. “We got caught up in the brief moments we’ve shared.”
“Do you always kiss men whom you don’t know?” Mitt asked without hesitation.
I blushed harder. “No.”
Two could play this game.
I questioned in a whisper, “Do you always lock lips with random women, Mr. Morgan?”
“Usually.”
Typical man.
“Figures,” I blurted out and slapped a hand over my mouth.
Me and my big mouth!
“But not more than once,” Mitt added while heat fused inside of me, resembling a blazing inferno.
Scratch that. Mitt was an unusual man.
“Oh,” was the only word I could formulate.
“Please. Don’t call me Mr. Morgan, call me Mitt.”
“Mitt.” I nodded as my hands moved while I talked and awkwardness set in.
On top of being crazy for even wanting to marry a man who granted me with explosive kisses, I was a nervous wreck. I appeared like a basket case, ready to commit myself to the nearest loonie bin, harnessing my hands to the bed and throwing away the key. Mitt made me anxious, vulnerable, and a hot mess, but for good reason. He was a lawyer and not any regular attorney. Mr. Morgan was the top lawyer in all of New York City at Morgan’s Law everything in my life would look up from here.
“I’m sorry for being—”
“Ms. Kingsley...” Mitt interrupted as he took my hands in his and stopped my nervous movements. “You have nothing to apologize for.”
Wait... What? I didn’t recall telling him my name?
“How do you know my name?”
“I had to know who you are, and I hired someone to hunt you down, Tinsley,” he answered without a care in the world.
Unbelievable!
“Let me get this straight...” I said, after blinking several times. “You checked into who I was, but never tried to contact me?”
“Yes.”
What in the actual fuck! Who did I get into this car with?
I pulled my hands away from his while the thought of someone looking into my personal life caught me off guard. I should be completely creeped out and turned off. A scream should have escaped from my wide-open mouth with a screech belting out from the top of my lungs. I should have gotten out of his limousine and ran as soon as my heels hit the ground. Mitt Morgan was a walking, talking, and breathing red flag, and I should have yelled for help. But I couldn’t.
I sat there, far too stunned and aware of his brutal honesty. He could’ve lied, made something up to avoid sounding like my stalker, but he didn’t. He gave me the truth, and it was more than I ever got from Beau.
I boldly asked, “Why?”
“Because I had to know who I couldn’t stop thinking about after we shared our first kiss.”
Mitt made me blush even brighter, as beet red as Rudolph’s nose. Hell, I should have been as white as a ghastly ghost after his admission, but I wasn’t. I felt safe with him. It was a comfort I shouldn’t grow accustomed to, and I should proceed with caution. Especially with an alarm going off in my head, but all care went out the window with the hint of amusement in his mysterious eyes.
“I guess you knew I had a boyfriend?” I blurted out, and embarrassment seared through me.
“Yes.”
“And that didn’t bother you?” I asked through squinted eyes. “A woman you’re kissing and running a background check on being with another man?”
“No. I knew your relationship with him wouldn’t last,” Mitt replied with cockiness and certainty.
Offended, I crossed my arms. “How could you be certain about my compatibility with Beau? He could be waiting for me at home, and I could be a woman who leads a double life.”
His head moved from an unexpected bump in the street, but he didn’t break eye contact. “But you don’t.”
I tilted my head and raised an eyebrow. “Are you confident in that fact?”
“Yes,” Mitt answered with a hiss in the S .
“You are a man of simple answers, Mitt.”
I unfolded my arms.
“Sometimes.”
I let out a soft giggle that Mitt cut short by tenderly brushing his fingers down my cheek. My lungs felt restricted as I lost the need to breathe, and he trapped me in his orbit. His touch had the power to melt me into a puddle as I sat in the back seat of his limousine, getting lost in his world.
Finally, I exhaled. “I guess I have a lot to learn about the man I’m about to marry.”
Mitt grazed the pad of his thumb over my bottom lip and let it go. “I’ll have to ensure your ex-boyfriend stays far away from what is mine.”