Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
Morgan hid away in her bedroom for longer than she'd planned.
She didn't even want to call it hiding, but she was struggling to hold onto her earlier feelings. She'd told herself to be nice, but not effusive. She'd told herself to be open, but not eager. She'd told herself that she could handle it if Palmer didn't remember her.
And then he'd said he thought that Jacob's sibling was a boy.
Oh, bother.
Yes, she quoted Pooh characters, but not from the books.
The cartoon.
Growing up she was always a TV girl. When the boob tube, she giggled at the thought, came on, she was entranced.
The only reason she went outside was if she was forced. And usually, it was Jacob dragging her outside.
And that was likely the reason why she'd put on a bunch of pounds when he was acting more like her dad than her brother. He was working and while he was doing that, she had time to get sucked into TV and not have to do anything.
Oh, she wasn't blaming her brother for her weight gain.
She just didn't want to do things. They'd just lost their parents and he'd had to get a job and make the payments on the house that their insurance didn't pay for, but she'd lost her way a bit.
The television was an easy escape.
The shows on TV were predictable in a way that life wasn't.
When they went for a drive, they came home in Classic TV shows.
The drama was in the home.
Every problem could be fixed in a half an hour.
The world was set right every time before the credits rolled.
Life?
It wasn't so easy or happy.
And thinking back to the times that she'd been around Palmer, she couldn't blame him for not remembering that Jacob had a sister.
Jacob had taken to calling her Morgan just like everyone else, including her parents while they'd still been alive.
When she'd seen Palmer at Center City events, she'd always tried to blend into the scenery and be as invisible as someone could be when they weren't dressed in camo or a ghillie suit.
But something inside of her had wanted to be seen by this man.
She'd never did anything to get it, so she couldn't blame him at all.
She'd just been too good at blending into the background.
But not anymore.
She drew her legs under her as she sat on the bed and looked around her bedroom.
Her bedroom.
For now, she had to remind herself.
It was a simple room, but there was a window! And it was pretty big, too!
She could see outside and there was a ton of room in her closet.
Palmer had furnished the room with a dresser too, but she'd never really gotten the whole dresser thing, though. Her clothes were always shifting around in the drawers, so she'd be keeping them in her suitcase and just lay it out on the bed. The other half next to where she was going to sleep.
She didn't need all that extra space. And it just felt better to have less room to fill.
A soft knock on the door turned her head, making her feel a little like a prairie dog. "Yes?"
"Hey, Morgan. I was wondering what you wanted to eat for dinner."
"Dinner?"
Oh god, she had to eat? In front of him?
"Oh, I'm fine. Thanks!"
She closed her eyes and willed him to walk away.
"You didn't have any lunch. I know you have to be getting hungry after your drive."
Her stomach rumbled and rolled making her groan at the traitor.
"Uh... I can go out and get something later. No worries!"
There was a moment of silence on the other side of the door and just when she let out the breath she'd been holding, Palmer spoke again.
"I was thinking of making some pork chops, but I didn't ask you if you're a veggie or a vegan."
She grinned at the worry in his voice. "I'm not a veggie or vegan. You can make anything you want." She rolled her lips together and bit down to keep from laughing at how dang cute he was.
"Well, I'll make enough for two if you... If you wouldn't mind eating with me."
Her whole world narrowed down to the sound of his voice.
Was he really saying he wanted to eat with her or was he just trying to be nice?
The memory of her younger self inside of her spoke up. "Does it matter?"
"No," she whispered back, "mind your own damn business."
"Morgan?"
She winced, realizing that she might not have been as quiet as she'd tried to be.
She gave herself a mental shove.
Morgan unfolded her legs and bounced up from the bed. "Do you mind some help?"
When she pulled the door open, he was standing right there, one hand on the outside of the door frame.
The thought crossed her mind that if she was wearing heels, she could just about lean in and kiss him on the lips.
He gave her a ghost of a smile. "I'd love some help." He took a step back. "Want to start now?"
"Yeah." She smiled at him, and his smile widened in response. "I do."
He turned and headed for the kitchen, and she clapped her hands over her mouth and mentally kicked herself in the butt. 'I do.' OMG.
She moved out of her room and ducked into the bathroom to wash her hands.
When she turned off the water in the bathroom, she heard the water come on in the kitchen and it made her smile.
It was nice to know that she wasn't the only one in her space and knowing that it was Palmer, who had occupied quite a bit of her thoughts over the years, made her smile and stand a little taller.
She walked into the kitchen ready to dig in and found that Palmer already had most of the things ready to cook. "Uh, well, it looks like you didn't need me to help at all."
The instant the words were out of her mouth she wanted to claw them back in.
"I mean-"
"I get it," he smiled at her and gestured for her to come closer. "It's just that I generally prep things on one of my free days during the week and then I just take out the ingredients I need for the meal. I'm not big on the cutting and measuring for each meal."
She beamed and moved closer, leaning against the wall beside the kitchen counter. "I love chopping stuff up-"
He gave her a look with one raised brow.
"Food, not bodies."
He grinned. "Good. I don't have to lock up the knives at night."
She gave him a bit of a glare and he chuckled.
"If it's not obvious," he sighed, "I like to watch crime TV. Law & Order the original is a favorite."
"Really? You spend long shifts as a firefighter, and you come home to watch crime shows? Not Chicago Fire or Station 19?"
He shook his head and picked up a pork chop, turning it onto its edge as he scored the thin layer of fat on the edges. "It's like bringing work home with me. Crime shows... it's like seeing how the other half live." He winced a little before looking at her. "Does that make any sense?"
She nodded. "I can see that. I mean, if I was a doctor I don't think I'd want to come home and watch Quincy."
"Quincy?"
She grinned at him. "See? Classic TV. Quincy was a show about a coroner in California and he solved crimes."
There was no recognition in his eyes.
"Jack Klugman?"
Still nothing as he started on the other pork chop.
"He was in 12 Angry Men."
He looked at her with confusion in his gaze. "What are they angry about?"
Morgan leaned forward, her hands on the counter, close enough to reach out and touch his arm, but she wasn't about to distract him while he had a knife in his hands. "It's a movie. A movie about a crime."
That got his attention. "Yea?"
Her smile deepened. "See? I know how to get you interested. We should watch it sometime. You know, blend our interests together."
From her vantage point she could see a container of carrots on the other side of him at the counter.
"Ooh... Can I have a carrot to munch on?"
"Sure."
RHETT
He was happy to hand her the container, but before he could set down the pork chop and wash his hands, Morgan moved around his back and snagged a carrot from the container.
Rhett felt her heat against his back and how close her arm was to his.
He held his breath until she was back against the wall.
She took a little nibble of the carrot and smiled at him. "I'll try not to make too much noise," she mumbled between her lips with her free hand blocking her mouth. "I just love carrots."
"You can eat as many as you want. I have more in the refrigerator."
He saw the way her gaze slanted between his body and the cabinets over the counter. Her secretive smile told him he better stock up on carrots soon.
"You know," she paused and swallowed, dropping her hand back down to her side, "I've heard there's a town in Arizona where donkeys roam around freely."
"In the town?" He set the pork chop down and the knife beside it. He washed his hands and reached over for the container of carrots and set it closer to her on the counter. It wasn't that he minded her getting closer to him, but he didn't think he could handle her being that close and not want to reach out and touch her.
"Yeah." She smiled at him and snatched up another carrot with a playful grab. "But I think they're burros, not donkeys. I can't remember the difference."
He moved to the refrigerator and took out another container of carrots and a baking sheet. As he pulled out a parchment sheet the oven dinged.
"Oh!" Morgan leaned closer. "Can I do something?"
Oh, she was doing plenty.
She was making his own internal temperature rise and his blood was flowing through his body.
All. Over.
"Can you make sure the oven is at four hundred degrees?"
"Yes!" She bit off the end of the piece of carrot she had and then wagged it like Bugs Bunny. "Anything to help out, Palmer."
She moved away from the wall, and he struggled to keep himself focused on what he was doing. He almost forgot to put the parchment on the baking sheet. Hardly anyone called him Palmer anymore.
Okay, no one called him Palmer except for his father. Even Jacob, who'd known him before he'd been given the Rhett nickname used it instead of his real name.
But hearing Morgan calling him Palmer felt oddly intimate.
"Yep!" She moved back, sliding behind him sideways as if there wasn't more than enough room to move through.
He didn't mind. It felt like they were almost close enough to touch.
He was apparently a bit of a masochist.
Looking down at the baking sheet, he realized that he was being a bit of an ass, too.
She'd said she wanted to help, and he was having her stand there.
He looked at her as she leaned back against the wall. "Do you want to do the carrots or the spice rub?"
"Oh... Spice rub." She grinned at him in what he was quickly discovering was a happy expression that made it almost impossible for him not to smile in return. "That sounds like fun."
"Okay." He said it, but he didn't mean it, because he was sure he'd just handed her the ability to make him a little crazy.
He uncovered the bowl with the spice rub he'd made and set it beside him on the counter.
Morgan bit into the carrot piece she had and kept going until she had a little pouch in her cheek like a chipmunk and moved around him to wash her hands again in the kitchen sink.
He tilted his head back to draw in a breath through his nose. She was wearing a scent. Or maybe it was her skin. He wasn't knowledgeable when it came to perfumes, but whatever she was wearing... It was doing something for him.
"Okay, boss." She softly clapped her hands together. "My hands are ready."
Oh great. He really didn't want to think about her hands.
Tilting his head back and forth to stretch his neck, he tried to ease his building tension.
"Okay, I just need you to rub the spice blend into the chops top and bottom."
The eager look in her eyes was devastating, but what was worse was the sounds she made while she was rubbing the spice into the meat.
"Oh... nice..." Her voice was a little breathy. "This feels like... a... a sugar scrub." She laughed and he was sure that his neck had reddened some. "What's in this?" She brought the bowl up to her nose to breathe it in. "It's smells incredible."
What would be incredible is if she didn't groan when she said the word. "Yeah."
"Palmer?"
Just the way she said his name was like... a caress.
Yes, he decided, he was losing his mind.
"Hmm?"
He had to keep his lips pressed together to keep himself on an even keel.
"What's in this?"
Right. She'd asked him a question.
"Uh... What's in it." He closed his eyes for a moment and remembered the spices he'd taken out of the cupboard. "Salt. Pepper."
"Okay. I'd guess that."
He grinned. Her sass was helping him to focus. Relax.
"Garlic powder."
"Nice. No vampires."
He shook his head. "Paprika."
"Mmm... Smoky."
He swallowed hard.
"Cayenne Powder."
"The Porsche of spices..."
They laughed at that together.
"And brown sugar."
She froze, her motions stilled.
He turned to look at her and wondered if he'd forgotten something.
She looked at him, a direct, piercing gaze.
And holy hell, he was about to lick his lips in reaction, or was it preparation?
Her eyelids lowered a little and she offered him a half smile before breaking out into song. " Pour some sugar on mehhhhh!"
Then, as if she hadn't stunned him, she went right back to rubbing the spice into their dinner.
"Sorry," she laughed, "I couldn't help myself."
He managed a little smile as if she hadn't just tested his own resolve. "That was an inspired performance."
"Oh?" she leaned over and nudged him with her elbow. "I have other options. Like..." She bounced a little in place as she continued with the next chop. "Sugar... uh uh uh uh uh uh... Oh, honey, honey..."
As she continued to bop along to the song, Rhett came to a surprisingly easy realization.
He'd been lamenting losing his quiet earlier, but now that he was standing elbow to elbow with Morgan at his kitchen counter, listening to her sing an oldie song while her hands were massaging their dinner, he knew that this... This was better.
This crazy new situation was something he'd never wanted until it was right there beside him.