Asking for Trouble (12 page)

“Stop embarrassing the girl, Gage,” his mother ordered. “Or I won't make your favorite.”

“Would that be the eggplant parmesan he's raved about? Can't be any better than the lasagna you sell at J & J.” Morgan decided to pretend Gage wasn't in the room as Theresa glowed.

“And since the parm is Stephen's favorite, and he is the birthday boy, I'm safe,” Gage countered. “As I said, Mom makes the best.”

“Mothers usually do,” Theresa agreed, walking around the center island and opening a cabinet.

Not in Morgan's experience. Her mother and the kitchen had been a frightening and smoke-alarm-triggering combination. But the memory made her smile without the usual pang of sorrow.

“Where is everyone?” Gage asked, heading over to the industrial-sized wood-encased refrigerator and grabbing a bottle of beer.

“I banished your father and the boys to the backyard until we're ready to eat.”

Morgan glanced outside and caught sight of a man who was as tall and blond as Teresa was dark. She could see both mother and father reflected in the faces of their children.

“And the terrible two?” Gage's question came with a slight grimace.

Morgan frowned at the reference.

“They'll be down momentarily.”

The second the words left Theresa's mouth, Morgan heard footsteps on the stairs that were soon drowned out by the sound of raised teenage voices.

“It's a family party, for crying out loud, Liza. Nobody cares if your eyebrows are even.”

“You'll forgive me if I don't take advice from Sasquatch.”

“Bite me.”

“Not even if you paid me.”

Gage grinned at Morgan and shook his head as he took a long drink of beer. “Welcome to the show.”

“Girls, please fix the salad,” Theresa said as if she hadn't heard a word of bickering between the two young women rounding the corner. “And cut up extra vegetables for a platter. I made the dip last night. It's in the fridge.”

Judging from the conversation, the lithe blonde with razor-straight hair and outlined bright blue eyes had to be the eyebrow enthusiast. She was stunning and, despite the sharp sarcastic wit, greeted Morgan with a warm smile that mirrored her mother's.

“Hi. You must be Morgan.” She held out her hand. “I'm Liza.”

“Nice to meet you.” Morgan's gaze fell on the shorter, rounder young woman beside her. “Hello.”

“I'm Gina.” Shoulder-length chocolate brown curls framed her full face, which lit up as she greeted Morgan with a wave. “I can't tell you how great it is to meet you. I've read all about you.”

“You have?” Surprised, Morgan looked to Gage, who straightened as if he'd heard a warning bell she'd missed.

“Gina,” he warned.

“What?” Gina cast him a quick dismissive glance. “I've been reading about the center and the foundation. I've applied to get on as a pediatric volunteer at Lantano Valley General, but they won't take me until I'm eighteen.”

“They have certain guidelines, especially for young people,” Morgan explained. “Working with seriously and terminally ill children takes a certain mind-set. But I'd be happy to see if they might make an exception if you're that interested.”

“Please don't encourage her,” Liza pleaded. “She's already insufferable.”

“Or
you
could hire me.” Gina flashed wide, excited eyes on Morgan.

Gage choked on his beer. Theresa gasped.

“Too late.” Liza rolled her eyes. “There she goes.”

“Gage told us about your foster kids and all the work you do with the foundation,” Gina plowed on, tucking unruly curls behind her ears. “I bet you can use an assistant, right? What?” Gina didn't look apologetic in the least as she glanced at her horrified mother. “Didn't you and Dad teach us to take advantage of every opportunity? Morgan being here today is a serious opportunity.” She pulled out a file folder she'd stuffed in the back waistband of her jeans. “My resume.” She tapped the top page. “I've also done some research on advances other pediatric medical centers have been making. I wrote up a report with some ideas you might want to consider that include some additional events I think would work in downtown Lantano Valley. Rich people are great, but they can only get you so far, right?”

“Honest to God, Mom, please make her stop.” Gage plucked the file out of Morgan's hands and slapped it against his sister's T-shirt that stated “sarcasm is my gift to the world.” “Not the time.”

“Hey.” Gina frowned.

“Now, wait a minute.” Morgan pushed Gage aside and grabbed the folder before it fell. Granted, she couldn't involve Gina with the center or the foundation, at least as far as working with her. She had enough trouble keeping details to herself as it was. But she'd be stupid to ignore someone as enthusiastic as Gina, for however long it might last. “It takes guts to do what she just did. I want to hear her out. What are your plans for college?”

Gina's face lit up as if a flare gun had exploded in the room. “A business degree with a concentration in charity management. I'm working toward a scholarship at Lantano Valley U, like Jon got. I want to do something worthwhile, something good. You know, like him.” She stuck her thumb at Gage. “Even though he can be a dick—”

“Gina Marie Juliano!” Theresa grabbed a wooden spoon.

“—tator.” Gina finished in a rush.

“I'm touched.” Gage wiped invisible tears from his eyes. “Such sentiment.”

“I'll tell you what.” Morgan chuckled as she flipped through the information Gina had compiled. Impressive was an understatement. This girl made Morgan look like a slacker. “Let me talk this over with my sister. She handles the social aspects of the foundation, decides on events, parties, and she's been thinking about hiring an assistant. Is that something you'd be interested in?”

“I'll take whatever I can get.” Gina bounced on her toes. “And it sounds amazing.”

“I'm not promising anything,” Morgan insisted. “But yeah, let me see what we can do. I'm keeping this.” She pushed the file into her purse, then remembering the reality of what she dealt with on a daily basis added, “You do know what you're getting into, right, Gina? Emotionally speaking, it's not easy. You'll be dealing with serious issues, and you'll meet kids who might not get better. They'll die. No matter what we do.”

“They're alive now, aren't they?” The fact that there was no hesitation on her face or in her voice struck a familiar chord inside Morgan. “Isn't that what matters? Making things better for them while they are here?” Morgan nodded. Gina squealed and launched herself at Morgan, hugging her tight. “Thank you.”

Morgan couldn't help but notice the pride shining in Theresa's eyes as she covered her mouth with the wood spoon. Morgan gave her a smile of approval and Theresa's face lit up as bright as her daughter's had moments ago. “Just make sure I have your cell number, okay?”

“You won't be sorry. I promise.” Gina turned around and stuck her tongue out at her sister as if she'd regressed to the age of five. “Told you I could do it.”

Liza just shook her head. “Just promise me you'll get some decent clothes for work.”

“The babies of the family are always the most entertaining.” Gage grabbed a stalk of celery from the pile.

“I don't think one should be called a baby once one is old enough to
have
a baby.” Gina slapped his hand away.

Gage turned an odd shade of green. “That's not funny.”

“It kind of is,” Morgan said, taking the apron Theresa handed her. One second she had the cream-colored fabric in her hands, and the next, Gage snatched it from her. He shook it out, opened it up and whipped it around her waist, pulling her against him as he pulled the strings tight.

Morgan closed her eyes even as she felt his mother and sisters looking on. His hands slid around her hips, dragging the string along. He took his time tying the bow, lowering his head to skim his lips against the side of her neck. He seemed particularly enamored of that part of her anatomy.

“Stop that.” She tried to dislodge his hands. “One and done.”

“We're not done yet.” He nipped her ear before stepping away.

“Go play with your brothers,” Morgan ordered, brushing her hands down her body as she tried to shake off the effects of his touch. “Leave the beer.” She grabbed his bottle and took a giant swig. Because alcohol was going to help the situation. He tossed them one of his disarming grins as he headed to the sliding glass door. The second the door closed behind him, Liza and Gina collapsed in a fit of giggles.

Theresa turned around, hands on her hips, and pinned Morgan with a look that made her feel like an amoeba under a microscope. “I want grandchildren.”

Morgan set down the beer. “Before or after dinner?”

Given the number of photographs lining the staircase wall, Morgan figured Theresa and Daniel, Gage's father, must have spent at least eighty percent of the last thirty-plus years taking pictures of their children. On her way out of the bathroom, she found herself pulled into the family's history. She traced Gage all the way to infancy, including the obligatory naked baby on a rug. Is this what his son would look like? Would his boy gaze out with wide-eyed curiosity at everything around him?

“God forbid fire ever strikes this house, but if it does, everyone's under orders to grab pictures first.” Theresa joined her on the staircase and leaned against the railing as she watched Morgan observe her family. “I was sorry to hear about your mother.”

“She loved taking pictures of us.” Morgan ran her finger along the edge of a wood frame. “We thought it was annoying, even gave her a bad time about it, particularly when she demanded we all get into one together. What I wouldn't give for just one more.”

“She raised a wonderful daughter.”

Morgan gave a sad smile. “You don't know me well enough to say that.” Wonderful daughters didn't put their mother's legacy at risk.

“I see how my son looks at you when he thinks no one is watching. Especially when you aren't looking. Plus, you're the first woman he's brought home.”

Morgan angled her head. “You blackmailed him into inviting me.”

“Ah, but he asked and you said yes. That means I was right. You'll be good for each other.” And now sadness appeared as she focused on a more recent picture of Gage surrounded by his brothers and sisters. “He almost died last year. Did he tell you?”

Morgan's skin went clammy. She shivered. “No.” He hadn't said a word. “What happened?”

“Joint operation with the FBI. He was so excited.” Theresa shook her head. “I was terrified, of course, but it's what he'd always wanted. Law and order, justice. Catch the bad guys. Then the operation went bad, his backup went to the wrong address, and Gage's cover was blown. The gunshot missed his heart by less than a centimeter.” She held her fingers apart. “That much closer and he wouldn't be here. As it was, he lost one of his kidneys when the second man stabbed him.”

Morgan's pulse flatlined. That much closer and they never would have met. The idea of never having seen him, touched him. Kissed him. The need to see Gage's face felt as urgent as the need to breathe.

“I've been waiting for him to see there's more to life than his work, than his job. Now, thanks to you, he has.”

“He still only sees his job,” Morgan corrected. “And he's not the only one.”

“But you also see each other. This Nemesis business has been hard on him. Brady Malloy was a good friend for a lot of years, and I think Gage sees closing the case as a way to make up for losing touch with him.” Theresa brought a hand up to Morgan's cheek. “You make my son smile, and for that alone I can never thank you enough. Now come, it's time to eat, and then presents. I can't wait to see what you came up with for Stephen.” She took Morgan's hand and led her down the stairs.

“Oh, no. It was all Gage—”

“Oh, Morgan, please. I know my son. You got a last-minute panicked phone call, didn't you? He forgot to get the present? Had no idea what to get? The entire family was depending on him?”

Morgan's mouth twisted. She should have known.

“Don't feel bad,” Theresa laughed. “It's the one con he can pull off. Means he trusts you and that he didn't have to rely on me to bail him out this time.” She patted a hand against her heart. “Makes my heart happy.”

***

“Best present ever,” Gage whispered into Morgan's ear as he came up behind her and slipped his arms around her waist. They'd taken the party outside along with the gifts, and as the sun began to set, a raucous game of badminton ensued, pitting sisters against brothers, husband against wife. “I don't think any of us will forget the look on his face when he saw that car collection. You were right—the personalized license plate was an inspired touch.”

“You're just glad you didn't have to ask your mother for help this year.”

“I knew she'd rat me out.” Gage laughed and hugged her tighter.

Sadness swept through her even as her body tingled. The evening was coming to an end. Their “one” was nearly done. But she leaned against him, covered his hands with hers, and enjoyed the moment. Men like him didn't come around for women like her, and while she'd be lying to say she hadn't developed feelings for him, it was better to break this off now before things went too far. The longer this went on, the harder it would be to keep secrets—keep the truth—from him, and Morgan was so tired of lying. Besides, it wasn't just the center and the foundation and the kids she was protecting. She had to protect her heart.

She had to protect Gage and his family.

“Your mother told me what happened last year. With the shooting.”

His hold on her stiffened, as if his bones had been replaced by iron. “Ancient history.”

“Not for her.” She turned to face him, linked her arms around his neck. “Not for you, either, I think.”

“Is this your way of asking me what happened?”

“If you want to tell me, I'll listen.”

“Nothing to tell, really.” But his shrug was anything but casual. “Eight months of undercover work and when it went wrong, they blamed me. Said I didn't follow procedure even though statements from other agents proved otherwise. I was an easy target because I'd been on loan from the L.A. police. By then it was too late. I was pulled from the task force, and since my old position with the department down south had been cut for budget reasons—”

“You came home.” She stroked her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck.

“Seemed a good place to start over, get my footing back. Figure out what I wanted for my life. Well, that and there aren't as many drug shootouts in Lantano Valley.” His smile didn't quite reach his eyes.

Morgan couldn't help but wonder how things between them might be different if he'd stayed a cop. “Do you like your new job?”

Gage shrugged. “Sure. It's nice to trust the people I'm working with. People I knew wouldn't throw me to the wolves if something went wrong. Besides, now I'm the one in charge.” He angled his head, tapped a finger against her lips. “And look where that's taken me.”

How she wished she'd never heard of Nemesis.

“You two need to get a room.” Gage's brother Stephen grabbed another beer from the cooler, swiping the frosty bottle over his forehead as he grinned at them.

Of all the sons, Stephen most resembled his father, but she'd noticed each of the Juliano kids had a certain glimmer in their eye that continued to sparkle, especially when they were teasing one another. “We're taking odds on when Mom starts looking at bridal magazines. Want in?”

“I do not.” Gage turned and came face-to-face with his mother. “Um, hi?”

“Jon wants to be a cop.”

Morgan squirmed to get away, but Gage held on, no doubt planning to use her as a shield.

“Not exactly. He's a geek, Mom. A talented one, although don't tell him I said so.” Theresa's accusatory glare softened. “He'll get all the training he needs. He's smart. He'll adapt and he'll learn from his mistakes. It's what he wants. If it matters, I think he'll be good at it.”

“You'll watch out for him.” Definitely not a question.

“As much as I can. He's his own man. Took guts to tell you when he didn't have to. He could have waited until it was too late. Like I did.”

“My children do have guts,” Theresa said, and winked at Morgan. “First you, then Jon, now Gina. A mother likes to see her children's lives falling into place. Now, if we can get Liza to settle on something . . .” And with that, Theresa buzzed over to her husband for a kiss.

“Your poor sister.” Morgan looked over to his sisters. “It's like she's a walking target.”

“Liza's not as unfocused as mom thinks. Although not as determined as Gina.”

“I don't think Attila the Hun was as determined as Gina is. Um.” She peeked up at him. “Any chance there's any chocolate cake left?”

“I was just thinking the same thing. I know where she stashes the leftovers.”

“Just let me check my messages.” Morgan retrieved her purse, pulled out her phone, and felt her mouth go dry. Nine text messages. Seven voice mails. All from Angela. Her entire body flooded into ice. “Oh, God.” Her hand trembled as she tried to remember how to access her phone book. “Oh, God, what is it?”

“Morgan?” Gage set down two plates of cake on the table as he passed through the dining room. She heard the sliding door open and close. The look of concern on Gage's face shifted to controlled cop the instant he saw her. “What's happened?”

“I don't know? Voice mails, messages. Angela said she'd only call if there was a problem with one of the kids.” She never should have let herself get distracted. She should have had her phone with her. She dialed the house, wrapped an arm around her waist as the phone rang.

“Morgan, thank God. I've been trying to reach you for over an hour.” Angela's normally calm voice rang with barely controlled panic. “It's Drew. He's been in an accident.”

***

“You can just drop me off.”

Gage leaned over and pulled the door closed to prevent Morgan from dashing out of the car and into the hospital before he'd stopped the car. “You need to stop.”

“Gage, I need to get in there. I need to see for myself he's okay.”

“You're not going to do anyone any good in the state you're in, so just take a minute. Let me find a parking place. You just sit there and remember how to breathe.” Aside from calling her sister to ask if she could stay with the kids, Morgan hadn't uttered two words since they got into the car, but he could hear the wheels in her head grinding. He wished she'd just scream and get the fear and frustration out of her system instead of stewing in it. “Kick the anger, Morgan. It won't help the situation.”

“What the hell was he doing out? He was grounded.”

“As a former teenage boy, I can tell you that's exactly why he went out. He's a typical kid, Morgan. Try treating him like one.”

She didn't give any indication she heard him.

“I never should have put my phone away. Another few minutes, another hour—”

“Stop feeling guilty because you took some time for yourself.”

“I didn't take it for
myself.
I took it for
you
and look what happened. There—” She pointed ahead and to the left. “There's a spot. Park there.”

He took the verbal blow because she needed to swing at someone, but that didn't make the words sting any less. What he wanted to do was shake some sense into her. Heading in to see Drew in her current state of mind was going to make the situation worse. Getting between Morgan and one of her kids, however, could be as dangerous as stepping in front of a barreling freight train.

“You don't have to come in.” She pushed out of the car before he could turn off the engine, but he caught up before she hit the emergency room entrance and grabbed her arm, spun her around.

“Forget the fact that my mother would flat-out kill me if I let you go in there by yourself. You need someone to yank you off the ledge.” He gripped her arms until he saw her wince, confirmation he had her attention. “Get your head on straight and go in there and talk to him.”

“What did you think I was going to do?” Disgust dripped from her tone.

“Talk
at
him.” A glimmer of acknowledgment flickered in her green eyes. “You're scared, Morgan. Hell, you're terrified, and you have every right to be. But don't take that into the room with you. Rail at him later, ground him for life next week, but for right now, he's a hurt kid.”

“Easy for you to say. He's not your kid.” She tried to wrench free.

“If you're not careful, he won't be yours either.” Now he did shake her. “For God's sake, Morgan, why won't you let anyone help you with him? Why won't you let us help you with anything?”

“I don't need anyone's help. My debt's been paid in full, you got your one. Now go away.” She twisted her arms with enough force to break his hold.

My debt's been paid in full.
The words ricocheted against his ears like a hollow-point bullet. Damnable, frustrating, stubborn.

What was
wrong
with her? Why couldn't she see he wanted to help her? To show her she didn't have to take everything onto her already overburdened shoulders.

She didn't want his help; hell, he'd all but become invisible the second she'd gotten the call about Drew. Understandable, sure, but why was it that whatever angle he tried to take with her she, deflected him?

What the hell was he still doing here?

Because whether she knew it or not, wanted to admit it or not, she needed him.

Embracing the anger she'd leveled at him, he followed her through the double doors, pulled out his cell phone, and dialed his father, who answered on the first ring. “Hey, Dad. I need your advice and help with something.”

Morgan thought he was in her way? She hadn't seen anything yet.

***

“And you said smoking would kill me.” From his prone position on the gurney in the emergency room and the dazed look in Drew's eyes, his comment didn't carry the humorous punch Morgan figured he intended.

His handsome young face was cut; the butterfly bandages across one cheek and over his right eye told her flying glass had been involved. His left hand twitched where it lay on the bed, attached to beeping monitors and an overhead IV.

But it wasn't until then that she felt as if she could breathe again. “Thank God you're okay.” The tightness in her chest and throat eased. “I haven't talked to your doctors yet. What did they tell you? Did they remember to test your blood?” She indicated the Medic Alert medallion around his neck.