Around the World in 80 Men Series: Boxed Set 21-30 (14 page)

Morgan
couldn't help herself as she rolled her eyes at the extravagant homes
they barely drove by. Clay showed a silent respect for his fellow
wealthy neighbors by creeping so slowly past each and every
ridiculously large home on the street. “Seriously? I can walk
faster than this!” She couldn't take it, they were almost to
his home, but her emotions finally broke free before he made the
final turn onto a driveway that covered more space than most homes
were built on. Yes, she nodded to herself, even his driveway pissed
her off.

“We're
here.” He stopped the car quickly before pulling all the way
to his garage, as he watched her hand reach for the door handle.
Having her get injured, on top of treating her horribly already,
wasn't going to happen. “Let's just get your bags, and...”

Morgan
was already out of the car before he could finish, and she slammed
the door on his final words. Clay let out a heavy sigh and opened
his own door, then met the woman at the back of the car. She was
standing with her arms crossed and her heeled foot was tapping
repetitively against the concrete driveway. There was nothing
specific she needed out of the back of the car but the simple fact
that her bags were locked away seemed to add to her frustration.

He
gave her a quick smile, then quickly slid a key into the lock and
popped the trunk open. Morgan immediately grabbed her purse and carry
on bag, then stormed toward the house. At the front door, her foot
tapping commenced as she waited for Clay to grab the rest of her
things.
Stupid door knocker.
She couldn't even appreciate the
beauty in the home, at least not right then. She looked away from the
door and back to Clay, who was still fighting with the last of her
overstuffed bags. If she weren't in such a bad mood, she would have
admired his wide shoulders and the way his muscles flexed under his
red dress shirt. She also would have mentioned something about his
ass, his smile or his light blue eyes. But, right then, even
his
perfection pissed her off.

Perfect
job. Perfect house. Perfect body. Well, la-di-fucking-da!
Clay
noticed she was waiting and grabbed the largest of her bags and
wheeled it behind him to the door, then unlocked it just as quickly
as the trunk. Morgan didn't even thank him, she just pushed through
and walked into the house first. It was beautiful, not that she'd
admit it to him, nor herself.

The
first thing that caught her full attention though was the huge...
“Fuck! Clay!.....Clay!” Morgan stood frozen in place when
she noticed she had an audience. A large red and brown Doberman
Pinscher was staring her down and its lips rose, followed by a deep
growl that brought goosebumps to Morgan's skin. “Clay!”
she yelled again and the dog made its move. It ran toward Morgan in
full speed, its claws clicking quickly across the tiled floor. The
terrified woman backed against the wall and closed her eyes tightly,
bracing for what was to come.
This is it! This is it! I get jokes
pulled on me and I get
shredded by a...

“Abby!
No!” Clay's voice echoed loudly through the room and the
clicking of claws and growling came to a silence. Morgan opened her
eyes and saw
Abby
had come to a stop less than five feet from
her own feet. “Abby,” Clay called again, then pointed to
the other side of the room. “Go,” he ordered and the
Doberman gave Morgan a quick look, then pranced happily to the other
side of the room.

“Great.
Just awesome. You have me
arrested,
then lead me into a death
trap!” Morgan threw her arms in the air and shook her head.
This day just keeps getting better!

“Morgan,
I'm sorry....she wasn't supposed to be here yet. I've been out of
town and Todd had her..he wasn't supposed to...”

“I
don't want to hear it,” Morgan cut him off.

“She's
not a mean dog, you just walked in and surprised her,” Clay
tried to explain, but he wasn't helping the situation whatsoever.

“You
LET me walk in!” Morgan was livid beyond words.

“Here,
why don't you sit and...”

“Don't
tell me what I should do,” she snapped back.

Clayton
sighed and nodded slowly. “What can I do?”

“I
want pink moscato. I want a bubble bath. I want you to stop talking
to me.” Morgan turned around to face her bag that he'd brought
in, and closed her eyes as guilt for her terrible manners clashed
with anger and self pity that wouldn't ease its grip around her
mind.. or heart. She took a deep breath, and spoke again, still
without turning around. “I'm...
sorry
, going to need a
little time to relax. If you don't mind.” It certainly wasn't
an apology, but she still didn't care enough to try again.

“Right.
Of course.” Clay showed her to the second floor bathroom, and
left her for only a few moments to retrieve the rest of her bags.
“You're welcome to keep your things in here, or you can....”

“This
is fine.”
Just say it, Morgan!
“Thank you.”
She had already accessed the room that she planned to spend the next
hour in, and it was a shame that her mood wouldn't allow her to enjoy
it. It was a bathroom like nothing she'd ever seen before, and it
was at least five times larger than even Finlay's spacious layout
was.
There's a freaking living room in here!
A sofa,
fireplace, flat screen on the wall, and even a small refrigerator,
were just a few of the amenities that the room offered. It was
paradise for happy Morgan, but for right then, it was just another
place that she wished Clay would leave her alone in.

“I'll..
uh... get your wine and put it by the door. I don't have any here..
but I'll find you some.. somewhere.” He waited for a few
seconds for a reply, but she only looked at him and waited for his
departure. “Right, I'll just be... take your time.” He
turned quickly, and Morgan let out a long sigh of frustration once
she was finally alone.

She
pulled her bags close to the far wall, and opened her carry on as she
sat on the stark white floor. Seeing her phone, her mind instantly
went back to Angel. He was one of the reasons for her pain, yet she
still wanted to call him and tell the man all about her day, and the
fake arrest. “Nope, not going to.” She then saw her
scrapbook and pulled it out of the bag quickly, placing it on the
floor beside her. Morgan didn't need to look inside, she knew every
photo, every note, and every detail of what she had put in it.
Suddenly, a tear dropped onto her hand as she thought about the large
album beside her. “Memories. That's all I have.” Her
strangled voice was so pitifully low that she wouldn't have been
heard, even if someone had been right beside her at the time.
Morgan Holland was entering a five alarm pity fest, and she didn't
even have Angel to take the ride with.

Through
her tears, and attempts at not falling to the floor and letting
herself literally wallow in her own misery, she had rifled through
her bags and found a pair of pink denim shorts, and a white tank top.
There would be no class three outfits for her that day, because a
good sleep after an obnoxious amount of wine didn't require an
evening gown. She had just started the water when a soft knock came
at the bathroom door.

Clay
didn't push his luck with joining her, he chose to announce that her
wine was open, and right outside. Morgan wiped her eyes, and
sniffled all the way to the door. She planned to thank him, but he
was already going back downstairs by the time she got there. Morgan
did utter a silent 'thank you' before shutting the door, but even
then, she didn't really didn't mean it.

She
didn't bother with the glass that he'd provided as she grabbed the
wine and took a drink while walking back to her bags. Her phone was
still needed, because the temptation to call Julianne had been strong
enough to make her give it some serious thought. With her phone
safely on the floor, Morgan undressed and stepped into the filling
tub, and was finally able to close her eyes for reasons other than
fighting tears.

Her
mind relaxed a bit, even though tension was still squeezing the life
from her neck and shoulders, but by the time the tub was full, her
muscles had even begun to relax just a tiny bit. “Shit.”
Her whole day was shit, and her mind was trying to tell her that it
was her life that was actually shit. The ordeal reminded her of
meeting Diego, and how rude she'd been to the man because of her own
issues.
But Clay did this on purpose, Diego deserved an
apology.
Morgan fought with herself, trying to sort the differences in
bringing drama upon herself, and dealing with the things that were
forced upon her.

It
was especially hard considering the new leaf that she felt had been
turned in her life, and Morgan tried hard to focus on her Gran's
words. “Whatever you focus on, will expand.”
Yep,
I'm focused on two assholes right now... dammit!
She needed to
change her mind, to change her thoughts, and still, Angel was the one
that could help her with it. “No!” She sat up in the
tub and reached behind her, grabbing the end of the black towel that
hung from an ornate bar on the wall. With her hand dry, she reached
down and picked up her phone. “I have to have other people in
my life that are...
my friends.”
She scrolled through
her contacts and one face made her stop. It was the face of a man
that made Morgan temporarily forget her own problems. “Sean.”

Her
Irish friend had been dealing with his mom's injuries, and Morgan
still hadn't called him to see how she was doing. “I'm sorry.”
Morgan felt horrible that she'd wanted a friend, and had failed to
be one to her sweet Sean. With her words, she pressed the screen and
brought the phone to her ear.

“Morgan!
How are ye?” His great mood was always so easy to hear in his
voice, and it brought a small smile to her face as she began to
speak.

“I'm..
good. It's you that I want to know about, though. How are you
doing? And your mom, is she still in the hospital?” She sunk
further into the tub and smiled again. The scrapbook was not all she
had, and that realization actually caused a stir within that she'd
desperately needed.

“She's
doing better, thank ye, Morgan. Wait, how did ye know aboot it? No
mind, Finlay told ye, aye?” He knew the answer to his question
as it came from his lips. Of course Finlay told her. Morgan
almost
managed a smile, but she wasn't there yet.

“Yeah,
he told me. I'm glad... really glad she's alright. Are you okay?”

“Aye,
I'm good, lass. What about ye, now? Something sounds...different,”
Sean questioned her. He was too good, she should have known there was
no way to call him without the man reading her, everyone seemed to
know her better than she knew herself.

“No,
I'm...fine, really.” She didn't need to bring Sean into her
pity party and regretted even making the phone call. Just as she was
about to tell him that she had to go, he caught her off guard.

“Morgan,
I can tell ye aren't
fine
,” he mocked her. “So
how's aboot ye tell me what's goin' on or I'm coming te find ye and
fixin' it maself.” Finally, a tiny smile pulled at her lips but
she fought it, bringing her eyebrows together tightly instead. He
sounded as if he'd had a few drinks, and that made him and his accent
even more adorable.

Not
for one second did she think he wouldn't be true to his words. If she
had a problem, Sean would drop everything to be sure she was alright.
The thought made her feel even more guilty.

“Just
a shitty day,” she started, trying to keep it vague. “What's
new with you?” Morgan asked, hoping to change the subject.

“Laaaas,”
Sean groaned. There was the twitch of her smile again, then it
happened. No warning, and no stopping it. The floodgate opened. She
didn't know why, or how, but it happened. Everything she felt rushed
out, as if her emotions had been trapped behind a dam and someone had
just taken dynamite to it.

Morgan
told him everything, from the moment she received the engagement ring
and how Angel tried to help her solve the mystery to the point of
finding out Angel and Cedric had sent the ring and how her current
client had set her up with a fake arrest. Sean had kept quiet
throughout Morgan's whole story, so when she stopped speaking, it
came as a total surprise when he broke out in laughter.

“Sean,
nothing about this is funny!” Morgan wiped her tears with the
towel, then stared down at her phone over the side of the tub as if
it were a rattlesnake asking to be her friend.