Chapter 46
Jack
Iawaken in bed, face down, with a massive hard on.
Fuck, I’m horny.
I reach over, my fingers clawing at empty space. No soft, warm body. No sweet Morgan. I groan into the pillow, annoyed. She should’ve been here, but last night was real. She didn’t come to me.
Morgan.
I move as fast as lightning, fumbling for my phone on the nightstand.
No messages.
“Christ, Jack, get it together,” I lecture myself.
Tommy knocks on the door.
Another day begins.
One thing has changed. Noel has to work at the tire store instead of going to school. I asked him to work at the center, but he begged to try something different. Can’t blame him. He should explore other things.
The morning unfolds as normal, just emptier. I’m grateful to have my brothers, but now something is missing. I lean on the kitchen counter, sipping my coffee, mulling on where I went wrong.
I don’t know what I was thinking last night. I know damn well—
Knock, knock.
I dart my gaze to the front door. Noel hasn’t left yet. It couldn’t be him having forgotten something. I set down my mug.
My pulse skyrockets.
Morgan...?
I’m moving to the door before I realize it. I jerk it open.
“Mr. Montgomery,” I mutter, confused.
“Hello, boy,” he hisses low.
A glint of gold flashes as his fist hurls through the air. As quick as a viper strikes, knuckles and rings connect with my jaw.
I clutch my cheek, stunned, but reset fast, already throwing my own punch.
He snaps:
“That was for sleeping with my daughter.”
My fist stops mid-air.
He smirks and strides inside, flinging the door shut behind him. He looks around and shakes his head, then sniffs the air.
“Ah. Drugs. She knows how to pick ’em.”
I stand stiffly, watching the intruder in an expensive suit and slicked-back hair standing in the middle of my world. He’s missing his spotlight.
“Where’s Morgan?” I say.
He strokes his chin, disinterested. “Did you tell her about our past?”
I lift my brow. “Hell no. Unlike you, I want Morgan to be happy. Some secrets can stay buried — like my parents. That’s your sin to bear.”
He snarls, his fangs bared. “I didn’t kill your parents. Don’t put that on me.” He leans on the back of a chair. “And never question whether I want happiness for my daughter. That’s why I kept her from you. So? Shall you apologize?”
I choke on air. “For what?”
“Men have gone to Hell for less. You took a devote Christian woman’s virtue. That was wrong, and you know that as well as I do.”
I can’t argue. It’s her dad. I’d be pissed if the roles were reversed, but I’m surprised she told him.
“What I did wasn’t wrong, so no, I won’t apologize.”
He chuckles as though he expected that response.
“Atheists,” he grumbles. “Were you trying to punish me? Get revenge?”
“Like I said, that’s your problem. Now, where’s Morgan? Tell me before I make you.”
He waves his hand dismissively. “She’s fine. Obviously, you and I need to talk. What was your plan with my daughter? Have her move in here?” He outstretches his arms and does a circle. “This place?”
Then, his hands drop to his sides. “Morgan knows God, but she doesn’t know squalor. Do you honestly think she’d be happy here?”
I scan the room. It’s a bit dark. Old furniture. Worn carpet. Scuffed coffee table. Small TV.
“Well, she never complained,” I reply, though my voice lacks conviction.
“Mm-hm.” A tiny smirk forms at the corner of his mouth.
“Aye!” says Tommy as he enters the room, smiling at Mr. Montgomery.
“Hello, there,” he says warmly, then faces me. “Has my daughter spent one day caring for a special needs person like your brother?”
Just then, Claire’s exhausted face flashes in my mind. The memory twists my gut. It was after she finished a full day at the center. The look in her eyes said it all: This is too much.
I haven’t considered how Morgan would handle eight to twelve hours at the center.
I hold my arms loosely, trying to appear unbothered by the thought. “Morgan’s been around Tommy.”
“Cared for him?”
“No—”
“Not one day, hm?”
“I get it. You’re trying to say Morgan couldn’t handle—”
“She’s never had a pet. She has a team of people cater to her,” he says. “My daughter knows nothing, yet is risking everything.”
My heart skips a beat. I don’t know what to say. If I’m being real with myself, the thought of Morgan loving me, then fleeing because she can’t handle Tommy was too painful to consider. But does this mean Morgan told her dad she wants to be with me...
Mr. Montgomery strides close, eye-to-eye. “You care about my daughter, Killborne?”
“Of course,” I spit back.
He places his fingertip firmly to my chest. “Then we wouldn’t be standing here, would we?”
“What?”
He purses his lips, then sighs heavily before opening the door.
My heart drops.
Morgan stands with a large travel bag over her shoulder. She bites her bottom lip and clutches her hands tightly together. Her eyes light up when she sees me.
For one stupid second, everything else disappears. The punch. The insults. The old furniture. Her father. All I see is Morgan standing there with a bag in her hand. My dream is real. I think…
She hesitates, then steps inside.
I’m already there, arms locking around her.
I inhale her perfume through my nostrils.
God, I missed that. I rub my cheek against the silky strands of her hair, and I press myself flush along that soft body.
She embraces me back, her nails biting into my back with a sense of desperation to keep me close.
She fits against me so perfectly it pisses me off that the world ever kept her somewhere else. Mine. My church girl came back to me.
“Oh, Jack,” she whispers in my ear. “I did it. I left Blake.”
I stare at her, stunned. “You left him?”
Her smile shakes. “For you.”
That hits me harder than her father’s fist ever could.
I almost kiss her. I almost forget he’s here.
Then her father groans. “Enough, enough.”
She pulls away, her face flushed.
“You two fools think this will be so easy. Then, so be it.” He points at me lazily. “She’s all yours.”
“Serious?”
Morgan beams, her hands gripping my arm. “He’s letting me stay here! Isn’t that great?”
“Letting you?” I mumble.
He nods, but there is a smugness in his grin. “A trial period. If this works, you have my blessing to marry.”
Marry.
The word shakes me to my core. It should feel absurd. It should revolt me with its outdated, religious nonsense.
It doesn’t.
Instead, it hits somewhere deep and ruined, because part of me wants every impossible thing with this woman. I want to claim her the way only a husband can. I want her as my wife despite the world.
But he says it a little too easy. This is the man who has tried like hell to keep us apart.
“You want to marry my daughter, don’t you?” he adds.
My mouth opens, but for reasons I don’t understand, I can’t form a single word.
“What’s wrong, Killborne? Surely you know Morgan is traditional. She wants to marry. Have children. Soon.”
Slowly, I look at Morgan. She draws in a breath and nods.
“I do. You want that, too.”
It isn’t a question. More like a plea for me to agree.
This is all moving fast. Too damn fast. My forehead sweats and hands clam up.
Guess her dad sees it, because he tries but fails to hold back a grin. “I assume you will be attending services with her? I recommend you conceal your... artwork.” He eyes my tattoos. “Your appearance reflects on Morgan. Be cognizant of how you look in public.”
He turns to Morgan. “Have him put makeup on his hands to cover the tattoos on his fingers. Otherwise, it’ll send the wrong impression to our more conservative donors.”
She doesn’t nod, but doesn’t protest either.
What the hell is happening? I’m blindsided. “You want me to go to church?”
“Yes. At least on Sundays,” he answers for her. “You can sit in the front row, but we ask you keep the relationship private.”
“Just for a while,” Morgan interjects. “Until the dust settles.”
“Morgan, I don’t go to church.”
He rubs his hands together. “I hope you didn’t think my daughter would stop preaching because of your lack of faith.
Preachers have their spouses present. My wife attends — in the front row.
” His lips purse tightly, clearly holding back a laugh.
“And remember, Mr. Killborne, since you care about Morgan so much, this arrangement means you must claim to be Christian.”
My eyes bulge. “I can’t—”
“We need you to exercise extreme discretion. You don’t want her reputation ruined if this doesn’t work out.
As far as the public knows, you aren’t dating, yet.
She needs to grieve about the failed engagement first. Not move on quickly.
And the public can never know she is living out of wedlock with you. ”
“Living with me? Here?” I murmur.
Suddenly, Bailey and a few random people appear, bringing in cardboard boxes and suitcases.
Mr. Montgomery smiles widely. “She doesn’t travel light. Hope you have enough room.”
Noel appears in the hallway and gapes at the sight.
“What is all this?”
Mr. Montgomery claps his hands. “Ah, yes! The lovesick younger one who trespassed. Good news. My daughter is moving in with your brother.” He darts his eyes from me to him several times. “That won’t be uncomfortable, will it?”
Morgan cringes but forces a nervous smile, giving Noel a shy wave. Then she looks at me.
“Is this okay? Me moving in?”
She says it soft, like she’s giving me a choice, but she has no idea my answer was decided the second I saw that bag on her shoulder.
Yet, my jaw hangs open.
For reasons I don’t understand, I cannot say a damn word.
So he says it for me.
“Sure it is!” Mr. Montgomery announces.
The last suitcase is set down, and he takes Morgan in his arms.
“Do not forget, sweetheart, Paul will handle your social media. Be smart. No public appearances.” He steps away. “Let’s give it a week or two before announcing your separation from Blake. Not that I am worried. I am sure this arrangement will go splendid.”
She glances up at me, meek and shy, and whispers, “Are you okay? Do you need to sit down?”
I exhale, just now realizing I haven’t been breathing.
Shit.
We haven’t discussed a damn thing. I never plan for the future. Marriage? Kids? I didn’t think a woman would...
I place a palm against the wall to steady myself. I glance at Noel and Tommy. This isn’t how I envisioned telling them I’d have a girl moving in. My mouth is dry and I don’t know what to say or do.
Morgan searches my eyes, her expression shifting from anxious to terrified. Her chin trembles, and she holds herself.
“I’m so sorry, Jack. I know you are... this is a lot. We can slow down.”
“Like hell,” her dad says. “Don’t settle for a man who—”
“She can stay,” I say, and not because this is smart. Because she is mine as long as she is close, and I’d rather fall into chaos than hand her back.
His eyes narrow, but he concedes. “Very well.” He shakes my hand firmly, then leans in, his voice a dark whisper only I can hear.
“If you get her pregnant, a girl like Morgan must marry the child’s father. Don’t let that be the reason my daughter chooses you.”
The door shuts. For a second, neither of us speaks. Boxes crowd the room. My brothers are here. Her father’s words still rot in the air.
But Morgan is standing in my house, looking at me like she belongs here.
I reach for her face before I can think better of it.
“You didn’t fuck it up.”
Her eyes gloss. “I told you I wouldn’t.”
It’s incredible. A miracle, if such things existed. But is this real?
I peek over at Noel, who appears as stunned as I am. We hold eye contact, and the silent gaze is intense and telling.
After last night, he knows I love Morgan, but now she’s here, in his space. And I’m begging with my eyes that he can accept the unthinkable.
Fuck, I’m barely able to accept she’s here.