Haven Creek (24 page)

“Aren’t you the greedy one?”

“You didn’t know? You smell good and taste even better. And when I’m inside you I feel like we’re the only two people on the planet.”

She closed her eyes, thinking about her lover’s pronouncement. “We’re only two when we’re behind closed doors. Once we open them, we have to be ready for those who may want us together and many others who’d rather see us with other people.”

“I don’t want anyone else, Mo. I want you.”

“You have me, Nate,” she said—but he didn’t have her in the way she wanted him to have her. She wanted him not just today, not just tomorrow, but forever. Although she hadn’t included it on her wish list, she did want a happily ever after.

Pausing, she swallowed the lump rising in her throat. She hoped what she was about to reveal wouldn’t shatter their fragile trust, but Morgan knew she had to let him know what lay in her heart. “I had a huge crush on you in high school.”

A comfortable silence ensued. “Do you still have a huge crush on me?” Nate asked, his voice lowering seductively.

Another beat passed. “I think it’s a bit more than a crush.”

One second she was lying beside Nate, and seconds later she was on her back with him straddling her. “You could’ve told me how much you liked me, Mo.”

“Okay; I tell you that I’ve had feelings for you since high school, and then what?”

“I’d do this.” He kissed the nape of her neck. “And this,” Nate crooned, his mouth moving to a place under her ear, breathing a kiss there. “And of course this.” His mouth covered hers in a kiss that was a caress. He surprised her when instead of making love to her again, he gathered her close and then lay down beside her.

Morgan fell asleep in his arms, reveling in how much she loved being there.

Morgan could feel the excitement in the air as she and Nate made their way to the fairgrounds. Small children who normally would’ve been getting ready to go to bed stared, seemingly transfixed, at the lights ringing the carnival, while teenagers screamed excitedly as they met up with friends. She found the carnivallike atmosphere infectious as she clung to Nate’s arm.

They’d spent the rest of the morning sleeping, awakening to make love again, and then returning to sleep some more well into the afternoon. Nate wanted them to shower together, but she’d opted for a warm bath to soothe muscles she hadn’t used in a long time. They’d shared a passionate kiss before he left, and he promised to return at seven to take her to the fair.

Morgan always liked the first night because the crowds were thinner. Cavanaugh Islanders referred to it as island night, only because most tourists waited until the following morning to visit. Experienced visitors had learned to leave their vehicles in Charleston and take the ferries to the island. Extra ferries were added to the schedule, so that there was a departure and arrival every twenty-five minutes. Free jitney service was available to drive folks around the island. Those wishing to spend all four days on the island reserved rooms at the Cove Inn, Sanctuary Cove’s boardinghouse, and it wasn’t uncommon for residents in Angels Landing to turn their homes into temporary bed-and-breakfasts.

Local shopkeepers always looked forward to the Island Fair as a chance to exhibit their wares. The revenue derived from the four days provided additional income, ensuring financial viability until the next summer season.

Morgan knew that once the restoration of Angels Landing Plantation was finished, it would generate even larger crowds—not just for the four days of the fair or during the summer months, but year-round. Angels Landing Plantation would mirror Colonial Williamsburg in its authenticity. The mansion, slave village, and outbuildings were certain to bring history buffs and school groups to the island, and the conference center, museum, and inn would attract corporate groups and those looking for a destination wedding.

“Do you want to go on the rides or eat first?” Nate asked as they neared the perimeter of the fairgrounds.

Morgan had informed him that she wanted to ride the carousel, bumper cars, and the Ferris wheel. “If you’re hungry we can eat now and ride later.” She glanced up at his profile, still awed at his resemblance to Michelangelo’s David. He appeared dramatic and sexy in black jeans, a T-shirt, and running shoes.

“Don’t you mean hurl later?” Nate said teasingly.

“I beg your pardon! I’ll have you know this girl is tougher than she looks,” she retorted.

Nate pointed to the roller coaster whirling wildly around the track. The riders were screaming hysterically. “Are you willing to go on that?”

She shook her head. “I don’t do roller coasters.”

Leaning into her, he pressed his mouth to her ear. “Are you afraid you’ll hurl, baby?”

Resting her palm on his chest, she pushed him back. “No.”

“Put up or shut up, beautiful.”

Morgan wasn’t certain what Nate sought to prove by getting her to agree to ride on the roller coaster. “What are you wagering, handsome?”

Nate glanced around, then dipped his head and whispered a secret in her ear. “If you agree, then nod your head. If not, then say no.”

If she took him up on his offer it would be a win-win not only for her but for Nate, too. Affecting a sexy moue, she nodded. Throwing back his head, he laughed heartily, the sound rumbling in his chest.

“Do you mind letting us in on the joke?” asked a familiar female voice.

Morgan and Nate turned at the same time. Francine and David stood less than a foot away, watching them. Francine had exchanged her green sundress for a white halter top and black stretch cropped slacks. David was dressed down in a pair of khakis, slip-ons, and a short-sleeved white shirt.

“Hey, you guys! How long have you been here?” Morgan asked.

David extended a hand to Nate. “We just got here.”

Nate released David’s hand. “Mo and I were going to get something to eat. Do you want to join us?”

Francine and David shared a look. “Sure,” she said.

The two couples headed to the area where people were lining up in front of food trucks. Nate rested a hand at the small of Morgan’s back. “Why don’t you and Red get a table while David and I pick up the food?”

“But you don’t know what we want,” Morgan said to Nate.

Laugh lines fanned out around David’s deep-set dark eyes when he smiled. “Don’t worry, ladies, Nate and I will get a little of everything.”

Nate winked at Morgan. “Yeah.
We’ve
got this.”

Francine’s eyes narrowed as the two men walked away. “Since when did they become buddies?”

Morgan lifted her shoulders under her tank top. “Since Nate finally realized there’s nothing going on between me and David,” she said, heading for the picnic area, which was dotted with dozens of long tables. A group of teenagers had opted to eat sitting on the grass.

Francine swung her leg over an empty bench, placing her handbag on a space beside her, while Morgan sat opposite her, resting her bag next to her. “There was a time when I thought you and David would become a couple.”

“David’s too uptight for me,” Morgan admitted.

Shifting slightly, Francine gave Morgan a long, penetrating stare. “And Nate isn’t?”

“No. Once you get to know him you’ll find he’s rather laid-back. I think he’s more complex than uptight.”

Francine leaned over the table when several women sat down at the opposite end. “I not only noticed but felt the heat between the two of you at breakfast this morning. And please don’t insult my gift when you talk about being friends,” she whispered. “I should’ve told you even before Nate came back to the Creek that you were going to get involved with him.”

Morgan felt a shiver snake its way down her back. “What’s next, Fran? You’ll see us married and with a house filled with children, cats, and dogs. Speaking of cats, do you still have keys to my place?”

Francine narrowed her green eyes. “Yes. Why?”

“I’m going to need you to come over tomorrow afternoon and check on Rasputin.” Morgan held up a hand when Francine opened her mouth. “Please don’t say anything until I’m finished. Nate and I are going over to Sullivan’s Island tonight. We don’t expect to get back until late tomorrow afternoon. You don’t have to worry about changing Rasputin’s water, because I have the automatic pet waterer and preset feeder. He’ll probably run and hide when you come in, but knowing someone is in the house will ease his anxiety of being left alone for so many hours.”

“Who or what’s on Sullivan’s Island?”

“I don’t know. Nate says it’s a surprise.” Morgan had told Francine a half-truth. She’d been shocked when he’d mentioned Sullivan’s Island, but there was no way she was going to tell Francine what he’d planned for them.

“You and your neurotic cat. What you need is to marry Nate and have a few—”

“Enough about me marrying Nate,” Morgan said, interrupting her. “It’s not going to happen, so please don’t mention it again.”

“Why not?” Francine asked, ignoring her entreaty.

Chewing her lip, Morgan stared at a nearby table, which was filled with the women who made up the beautification committee. “Nate told me he’s never getting married again.”

The redhead snorted delicately. “And you believe him.”

“Of course I believe him, Fran. Why shouldn’t I?”

“Have you heard of people changing their minds? I do it at least two or three times a day.”

Morgan shook her head. “Folks don’t change their minds about something as serious as marriage. Either you want to do it or you don’t. And Nate has been very vocal about not doing it again.”

Lines of frustration creased Francine’s smooth forehead. “You can’t tell me he’s going to close himself off from women because his ho of an ex-wife opened her legs like an ATM spitting out cash. I can’t begin to imagine his humiliation once she revealed the number of men she’d slept with, but at least he came away looking like a good guy, which is more than I can say about most of the male celebrities who’ve been caught with their pants down.”

“I don’t think he was concerned about his image,” Morgan said in defense of her lover. “Something tells me he doesn’t trust women.”

“Why on earth would you say that, Mo? Men who don’t trust women use them. And I doubt very much if he’s using you.”

“No, he isn’t, and if he tried I’d be gone so fast he’d forget what I looked like. There’s no way I’m going to allow another man to use me.”

“Now you sound like me, Mo. Marrying Aiden was a big mistake, but I’m not going to blame all men because I’d fallen in love with a parasite.”

“Are you saying you’re ready to get married again?” Morgan asked Francine.

“I’m not actively looking for a husband, but I realize I’m not getting any younger, and if I want a couple of babies I have to start viewing the men I date differently.”

“What you need to do is learn to cook,” Morgan said with a twinkle in her eye. “At least enough so your husband and children don’t starve.”

Francine rolled her eyes. “I don’t need to learn if he cooks.”

Morgan smiled, her straight white teeth contrasting with her dark skin. “What are you going to do when you meet someone you like? Ask him whether he can cook?”

“That’s not funny, Mo,” Francine said. She sobered quickly, a slight frown appearing between her eyes. “I’m looking for someone with whom I can have a good time. If it leads to marriage, then that would be great. But if I don’t marry again before my biological clock stops ticking, then I’ll adopt. There are too many of our babies languishing in foster care who need a permanent home. I’m also not going to apologize when I say I plan to spoil the hell outta them.”

Morgan shook her head. “I know children aren’t perfect, but if your children turn into Bay Bay’s kids, then please don’t ask me to babysit.”

Morgan was always available to babysit Amanda whenever Rachel and James wanted to spend quality time together. One weekend, she had all her nephews and her niece over for an extended slumber party. She’d taken requests for their favorite foods, movies, and board games. There was nonstop noise, and the doors were constantly opening and closing whenever they came into or left the house. Brian and Brandon assisted her on the gas grill, while Amanda and Ethan were given the task of setting and clearing the picnic table. Morgan enjoyed spending time with her niece and nephews, but was left thoroughly exhausted from the ongoing activity. After the weekend she had a newfound respect for women who had to care for children
and
work outside the home.

Francine patted Morgan’s hand. “Now, you know you’re going to love my babies even if they’re off the chain. All I have to tell them is their Auntie Mo is going to cook for them and they’ll camp out on your front porch, crying until you open the door.”

Clamping a hand over her mouth, Morgan laughed so hard that her sides hurt. Even if she was feeling down she could always count on her friend to cheer her up. And Francine could always count on Morgan to be there for her. Morgan wondered what her friend would say when she finally admitted she’d fallen in love with Nate, and that Francine’s vision had come true after all.

M
organ watched Nate and David approach. “What on earth did you buy?” she asked them. Nate carried a cardboard drinks holder containing large cups of beer and lemonade while cradling four aluminum-covered paper plates to his chest. David also held a number of plastic containers. Morgan slid over, making room for Nate as he sat beside her. They shared a smile when he kissed her cheek.

“We got burgers, fries, pizza, sausage-and-pepper sandwiches, buffalo wings, and corn on the cob.”

David sat down next to Francine and uncovered his containers. “And we have fried calamari, shrimp cocktail, soft-shell crabs, and beef and fish tacos.”

Francine stared at David, her mouth gaping. “Who’s going to eat all this food?”

“We are,” David and Nate chorused.

There was no way four people could eat that much in one sitting. Nate placed a cup of lemonade in front of her along with a foam plate and plastic utensils, while David put out a stack of napkins and more plastic forks and spoons.

“We’re going to give some of this away. I wouldn’t want any of it to go to waste,” Morgan stated. Rising slightly, she picked up a box containing two single-serving pizzas and set it aside. Then she covered the containers with two sausage-and-pepper heroes and another brimming with chicken wings. Stacking them, she stood up and walked over to a table where a young woman was sitting with three tweens. “Hey, Queenie. Nate bought too much food, so I’d like to give it to you and your children.”

The family would’ve been homeless if Queenie’s elderly parents hadn’t taken them in. Willie Evans had waited until New Year’s Eve to inform Queenie that he was leaving his family for a woman he’d met on the Internet. His defection was short-lived, because the woman reconciled with her boyfriend soon thereafter. Even though Willie begged Queenie to take him back, she refused. The former stay-at-home mother had gotten a part-time job as a salesclerk at the Cannery. Whenever Morgan shopped at the store, which offered local canned fruits and vegetables, she made certain to give Queenie the sale because it added to her commission.

Queenie’s eyelids fluttered as she attempted to blink back tears. “I can’t take charity, Mo.”

“It’s not charity, Queenie. It’s food that’s going to go to waste. And I shouldn’t have to remind you that folks here liken throwing away food to a sin. So please take it.”

“What do you say, kids?” Queenie asked her children.

“Thank you, Miss Mo,” they said in unison.

Pushing her long, brunette hair behind her ears, Queenie took the containers. “Thank you, Mo.”

Leaning over, Morgan kissed her former classmate’s cheek. “You’re welcome.”

Morgan felt the heat from Nate’s gaze when she returned to sit next to him. “Please don’t say anything,” she whispered.

Nate pressed his mouth to her ear. “You never cease to amaze me.”

She met Francine’s eyes, and the two shared a barely perceptible nod.

Dusk descended over the island as the fairgrounds filled with people. Children’s screams and laughter blended with the sound of barkers inviting revelers to try a game of chance. In between bites of food, Morgan, Francine, David, and Nate kept up a steady stream of conversation, ranging from the latest Hollywood gossip to the upcoming local elections.

She noticed Nate was silent once they’d begun discussing celebrity reality shows, and she wondered if he was reliving the years he’d spent in L.A. He became more animated when the topic segued to sports, and even more so when it came to the election.

“Do you think Alice Parker can beat Spencer White?” Morgan asked.

David nodded. “Even though I don’t live here, I’ve heard a lot of talk on the mainland that she has a good chance of becoming mayor of the Cove.”

“That’s because Jason Parker is her husband,” Francine said. “After all, he does represent us in Congress.”

“And don’t forget they’re loaded, so I’m sure she has a lot of money backing her campaign,” David added. “What about you, Nate?”

Nate swallowed a mouthful of beer. “What about me?”

“Who would you vote for if you lived in the Cove?”

“It would probably be Alice. She’s a lot prettier than Spencer,” Nate drawled, deadpan.

Morgan gave him an incredulous stare. “You’d vote for someone because of the way they look rather than the issues?”

“It’s all about appearances. Correct me if I’m wrong, David,” Nate stated.

The attorney nodded. “Nate’s right. Jason won his first term based on his looks. Luckily for him, he proved to his constituents that he also had the intelligence to go along with his face and body.” He looked at Francine. “Are you going to vote for Spencer because he’s one of the island’s most eligible bachelors?”

Francine rolled her head on her neck. “No.” The single word was pregnant with indignation. “FYI, Spencer isn’t the only eligible bachelor. What’s Nate? Chopped liver?”

“Nate is
not
an eligible bachelor,” Morgan said.

Shifting slightly, Nate turned to give Morgan a long, penetrating stare. “Are you saying I’m out of contention?”

Pinpoints of heat stung her face. “No…um,” she stammered. “That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

Francine touched a napkin to the corners of her mouth. “Please explain yourself, Mo.”

Morgan’s gaze shifted from Nate to Francine. “Whose side are you on, anyway?” She looked back at Nate. “You’re not out of contention, but I’d like to believe you’re temporarily unattainable to other women who may have romantic designs on you.”

Smiling, Nate raised his cup. “Well put, baby.”

She raised her cup, touching it to Nate’s. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

A comfortable silence followed the endearments as Morgan and Nate shared a smile. He’d told her when he’d whispered in her ear what he wanted her to do to him and what he was willing to become, and Morgan’s mind was filled with the endless possibilities she’d conjured up, all of which would make their night one to remember. Then she sat up straight when she saw a familiar face. She almost hadn’t recognized Bobby Nugent without his paint-spattered coveralls and painter’s cap. He stood several feet away, waving to her.

Resting a hand on Nate’s shoulder, Morgan pushed to her feet and stepped over the bench. “I’ll be right back. I want to talk to someone.” She and Bobby moved away from the table. “Good evening, Bobby.”

He inclined his salt-and-pepper head. A network of tiny lines fanned out around his blue-green eyes, which were set in a deeply tanned henna-brown face. “Miss Morgan. The men told me about the Island Fair and I thought I’d come by and see what they were talking about.”

“What do you think?” she asked.

He smiled, exhibiting a mouth filled with tobacco-stained teeth. “It’s a real nice tradition you have here. I called my wife and told her to drive down from Savannah and hang out with me until the Fourth.”

When Morgan first met the contractor, he told her he’d been married for forty years, and this job would be his last because his wife had been nagging him to retire. An avid fisherman, he’d bought a boat. His future plans included sailing to the Caribbean, where he would live with his in-laws during the winter months.

She touched Bobby’s shoulder. “I want to you meet the carpenter who will supervise the rebuilding of the slave village.”

Nate stood up when Morgan beckoned him, then shook hands with Bobby when she introduced him as the manager for the restoration project. “You’ve been entrusted with a tremendous responsibility.”

Bobby nodded. “You’ve got that right. It appears you’ll have your share with the village.”

Crossing his arms over his chest, Nate studied the man. “It shouldn’t be too difficult,” he said confidently. “I’ve built homes from the ground up, renovated apartments, and restored others to their original state. In fact, I intend to survey the site one day next week. If you don’t mind, I’d like to come by and take a look at what you’ve done to the main house.”

Bobby nodded. “I’d love to have your opinion on a few things. We had a devil of a time stripping the wallpaper.”

Nate smiled. Bobby had just given him the opening he needed to broach the topic Morgan had complained about. “I’ve found using fabric softener and water helps loosen the old adhesive. But when working larger jobs I rent a wallpaper steamer. The advantage is the water never cools, making the job go by more quickly.”

Bobby scratched his stubble. “I guess you can say I’m old school. I tried the machine and fabric softener once with disastrous results.”

“Are you finished stripping?”

“We have one more bedroom.”

Nate detected Morgan’s perfume as she moved closer to his side. “Don’t start it. I’ll rent the steamer and show you how it’s done. That way you’ll know for the next time.”

“I told Miss Morgan there’s not going to be a next time. I’m retiring after this job.”

“If there’s anything I can do to help out, just tell Miss Morgan and I’ll come by,” Nate volunteered. She didn’t know it, but he would do anything to ease her anxiety about the project.

Bobby extended his hand. “Much appreciate the offer. I’ll leave you folks to finish your food, ’cause right about now my belly is talking to me.”

Reaching for Morgan’s hand, Nate laced their fingers together. “I thought you told me he came highly recommended,” he said when Bobby was out of earshot.

“He was,” she said in confirmation.

“I have a feeling he’s distracted. He probably spends most of his day thinking about what he’s going to do when he retires.”

“I can’t fire him until I find someone to replace him.”

“You don’t have to fire him, Mo. He’s already agreed to let me stop by and see what he’s doing. As he said, he’s old school.” Morgan met his eyes when he stared down at her. “Give me another twenty years, I’ll probably be old school, too.”

“You can’t say that about your father.”

“That’s because carpentry is not the same as building a house. With construction, there’s electrical, plumbing, insulation, roofing, siding, windows, walls, floors, and painting. Wood is wood, whether it’s natural, treated, native, or exotic.”

“It’s the same with textiles.”

He smiled. “There you go.”

Morgan squeezed Nate’s hand. “I need to walk off some of this food.”

David and Francine had cleared away the remains of the food by the time Nate and Morgan returned to the table. “What are you grinning about?” Morgan asked Francine, who gave her a Cheshire cat grin.

Francine glanced at David. “David has invited us to come to his place next Saturday night for dinner and cocktails.”

Morgan started. “It’s my—”

“I know it’s your birthday, Mo,” Francine said, cutting her off. “That’s why we want to get together. That is, unless you’ve planned something.” She gave Nate a look of feigned innocence. “I’m sorry, Nate. Did you want to do something special with Mo?”

“I didn’t even know about her birthday.”

David placed his arm around Francine’s shoulders. “Then you don’t mind if we celebrate it together?” he asked Nate.

There came a beat. Even though David appeared to be enthralled with Francine, Nate couldn’t rid himself of the nagging notion that David liked Morgan for more than just friendship. He had to hand it to the dapper attorney; he had exquisite taste. David, he mused, would bear watching closely.

“No, I don’t mind.” He didn’t mind because he had time to come up with something special.

“I guess that does it,” David practically crowed. “Francine will let you know once we finalize everything.”

“No clowns,” Morgan warned.

Nate snapped his fingers. “Damn, baby. You shot down my surprise.”

She squinted at him. “If you bring a clown around me I won’t be responsible for what happens to him.”

“Remember, David, no clowns,” Nate repeated. “Mo and I are going to walk around before we go on a few rides. What are you guys going to do?”

Francine looped arms with David. “We’re going to the Bingo tent before tackling the rides.”

Nate nodded. “If we don’t see you later, then have fun.”

David and Francine headed for the Bingo tent, while Nate directed Morgan along a row of colorful booths, each of which offered a passerby the chance to play a game and win a prize. He stopped in front of one that had a line of mechanical ducks against the back wall. “Do you want a stuffed animal?”

“Yes.”

He pointed to rows of stuffed bears, monkeys, and penguins. “Which one do you want?”

“I want the sock monkey with the long arms and legs,” Morgan said. Nate paid the vendor and then picked up an air rifle. Her dimpled smile grew wider with the pinging sound of the pellets hitting the ducks in rapid succession. Nate had hit every one of them dead center.

He put down the rifle, pointing to the upper shelf. “I’d like the large monkey.”

Picking up a pole with a clawlike end, the vendor grasped the toy, handing it to Nate. “Nice shooting. And you’re lucky, because it’s the last sock monkey I have.”

“Thanks.” Nate wrapped the toy’s long arms around Morgan’s neck. “Are you going to give him a name?”

“Caesar.”

He shook his head, not wanting to laugh. “Is he Augustus or Julius?” Morgan did laugh. The sound was as sensuous as her smile. “What’s so funny?” he asked.

“He’s not a Roman emperor; he’s the genetically engineered chimp from
Rise of the Planet of the Apes.”

“Are you talking about that movie with the monkeys that run amok?”

She laughed again. “Yes. I love that movie. Have you seen it?”

It was Nate’s turn to laugh. “I’m afraid I missed that one.”

“I have the DVD at home. Whenever you have some time we’ll watch it together.”

Curving an arm around Morgan’s waist, he pulled her to him. “Do you think Rasputin will resent Caesar?”

“Not if I put him on the bed. Ras knows he’s not allowed to jump on the countertops, tables, or beds.”

“How do you train a cat not to climb when it’s the most natural thing for them to do?” he asked, leading her away from the crowd that had gathered at the booth.

“Actually, I read that using cookie sheets keeps them down, and it worked. I think the noise it made when it fell to the floor bothered him. In the beginning he ran and hid before coming back to try it again. After a while he learned to stay down.”