No Other Love (A Walker Island Romance, Book 2) (4 page)

Brian didn't try to argue with anything she said, but Morgan knew better than to think that he was giving in. What did it say that she still knew every nuance of Brian’s expressions, especially the determined one?

“I know that you’ve got the life you always dreamed of,” he finally said. “But I also know that last time I let you go without a fight, and I’ve regretted it ever since.”

A crazy part of her wanted to say,
I did, too.
But she made the rational part speak up instead. “You know why I left.”

“You felt like you had to leave everything here—your family, the island, me—to become who you wanted to be. I understood where you were coming from, Morgan. That it was never easy to live under a microscope on the island because you were a Walker, and that you chafed at the smallness, the quiet, even the sureness of knowing you would always be taken care of by the people who loved you. I didn’t want to be the one who was going to stand in the way of your success, didn't want you to resent me, so I didn’t fight. But I was wrong. So damned wrong. And now that you know who you are and what you're capable of—and I know those same things about myself—the fact is that I still want what I’ve always wanted.
You.
So this time, I’m not going to just stand back while you walk away. I thought love meant needing to let you go, but now I think it's just the opposite. Love means giving everything I am to fight for you to stay.”

“I think”—Morgan pushed away from the table and stood up—“we’d better head back to the cars.”

On the walk to the bar, things had felt surprisingly comfortable, and she'd almost been able to believe that they could “just be friends.” Now, however, she knew how wrong that was. Because when he'd made his impassioned speech, every cell in her body had wanted to say,
Yes, I'll stay
,
right then and there.

They were almost back to her car when Brian reached for her hand. She was so stunned by the sweet feel of his warm skin against hers that she didn't even think to pull away.

A moment later, he was pulling her into his arms. Warm, strong arms that had always been her favorite place in the world. Another man might have tried to kiss her to prove his point that they were still meant to be together, but Brian’s hug was almost more powerful than any kiss would have been.

His hug was not only a reminder of old times and their unstoppable attraction…it was also, clearly, a promise. A promise that he wasn't going to make things easy on her this time.

Because he was going to fight for her to stay.

“It really is good to have you back, Morgan. I'll see you tomorrow.”

CHAPTER FIVE

Morgan felt dizzy and breathless as she drove the convertible to her family’s house, barely able to concentrate enough to make the short journey safely in the unfamiliar car. She couldn't stop thinking about how good it had felt to finally be back in his arms.

She pulled up to the big, sprawling home she'd grown up in with her four sisters and saw Michael Bennet hammering something on the porch. Any other hot-blooded woman would see a tall, dark-haired, muscular guy like him and take a second look, but he'd always been like a brother to her after moving in with her family when his parents passed away when he was a teenager.

“Welcome home, Morgan.” Michael gave her a warm hug. “I’ll get your bags.” He let out a low whistle when he saw her car. “Nice ride.”

“My assistant who took care of booking the rental doesn’t quite get what the island is like,” she tried to explain.

Michael lifted out the first couple of cases, his muscles straining through the cotton of his T-shirt as he did so. “How much stuff did you
bring
?” He stopped and studied her more carefully. “Are you moving back to the island for good?”

“No, I’m just here for a few weeks this summer,” Morgan assured him. And herself. Because even though Brian was more tempting than any man had been—or ever would be—she couldn't possibly stay on Walker Island. “I’ve got too many things going on in New York to stay longer than that.” She grabbed the final bag out of the trunk, then said, “I can't wait to see everyone.”

Emily was stirring a big pot of spaghetti Bolognese as Morgan walked in. Her sister left it simmering, hurrying over to hug her. Frequent hugs were one of the loveliest things about coming back home, especially when people in the city usually barely made eye contact.

It always amazed Morgan how people could say that all the Walker sisters looked alike, never looking beyond their blond hair and blue eyes. Emily, in particular, had always stood apart to Morgan. She was taller, for one thing, and was certainly beautiful, but she had always been a little more serious, a little more grounded. Paige had her lithe dancer’s figure that she always toned down with sweatpants and workout clothes. Rachel had that ultra practical “I’m a mom” way of dressing so that nothing could get ruined if little Charlotte happened to get paint or something worse on them. And, of course, their youngest sister, Hanna, had fun streaks of color in her hair and an unparalleled zest for life. Though it had been a month since the wedding, Morgan was still a little stunned that Hanna had been the first of her sisters to get married. Especially to a Peterson. But, oh, it was just
lovely
to see how happy Hanna and Joel were.

Grams, who had been sitting at the kitchen table tapping away on a laptop with a two-fingered determination that was surprisingly speedy, also got up to give Morgan a warm hug. There was nothing quite as comforting as sinking into her grandmother’s arms. No place quite as safe.

“It’s good to have you back,” Emily said once Grams went back to her computer, “though I thought you’d get in earlier.

“I headed straight over to the school to meet with my new interns.”

Emily gave her a look that made it clear she knew Morgan wasn’t mentioning one other
very
important person she'd met with. Still, all she said for the time being was, “Rachel is going to be over soon with Charlotte. Paige called to say that she's going to have to work late at the studio, but will come find you tomorrow to catch up.”

Even as kids, Paige had barely set foot out of the dance studio when she didn’t have to. Morgan was only a year younger than Paige, and while the two of them were really close, some days it felt like they couldn’t be more different. If Paige had the opportunity to be on TV, especially off the island—and there was no question that she was good enough to dance in major productions—she’d probably run the other way. Dancing on the island always seemed to be enough for her.

When Emily went back to her cooking, Morgan moved to sit beside Ava at the big table. Her grandmother was still incredibly beautiful in her seventies, with the elegant poise of a dancer, her blue eyes as deep and sharp as they had ever been.

“I didn’t know you had a laptop, Grams.”

“It’s all this fan mail I’ve been getting since your sister’s documentary came out. It’s great fun, but it can take some doing keeping up with it all.”

Morgan smiled at that. Hanna’s documentary about the Peterson-Walker feud had made quite a splash, and Morgan was thrilled about it. That is, as long as her grandmother's newfound fame wasn’t too much for Grams to deal with. Fame could be fun, but there were also downsides to losing privacy and feeling as if you were living under a magnifying glass.

Michael came into the kitchen. “Morgan, I’ve taken those bags up to your old room. And, Emily, the porch step is as good as new now.”

“Thanks, although you know you didn't need to take time away from your crew to work on it. I would have gotten around to it eventually,” Emily insisted.

“Yes, but now you don't have to.”

“I think it was very kind of you to help, Michael,” Ava said, shooting Emily a pointed look.

Emily and Michael had been this way with each other for as long as Morgan could remember. When, she wondered, would they both finally wake up and see what had been right there in front of them since they were kids? Because she had no doubt whatsoever that they were meant to be.

“I hope you'll be staying for dinner, Michael?”

“Only if there's enough,” he said.

Emily rolled her eyes and told him, “When is there ever
not
enough food in this house?”

He grinned at Morgan. “Looks like I'm staying, then.” But as soon as he sat down on the other side of Ava to help her with a new program she had installed on her computer, Emily took Morgan’s arm and pulled her into the hallway.

“So, how was seeing Brian again?”

“I...” How could she put something into words that she hadn't yet figured out? “I was surprised to learn that he's my interns’ science teacher.” She hoped her sister hadn't noticed that Morgan hadn't actually answered her question.

“All the kids love him,” Emily said. “He's a great teacher, and you know how interested he always was in science.” But since she could clearly see that Morgan had been thrown off by seeing Brian again, she added in a gentler voice, “He volunteered for the position, and as both the science teacher and football coach, he really was the perfect choice to oversee those two students. I thought about overseeing them myself, but it really has to be about what’s best for Natalie and Tad.”

“You're right,” Morgan said, “it does.” She wanted her two interns to get as much as possible from working with her on the garden. One of the main reasons she’d decided to hire high school students was that she wanted to give kids from the island a chance to improve their prospects out in the rest of the world. It was a great opportunity for both Natalie and Tad, and an escape route if they didn't want to end up stuck on the island.

Even so…

“You should have told me that Brian would be involved, Emily. I was so shocked when he walked up with them that I'm pretty sure I made a huge fool of myself.”

Emily hugged her again. “I’m sorry. I was just so afraid that if you knew he was involved you might not come home at all. I know how complicated things were for you with Brian and how hard you’ve worked not to hear anything about him all these years. I was kind of hoping that this way it would be like a Band-Aid. You know, you close your eyes, rip it off, and find out that it didn’t hurt so much after all.” But she looked really concerned as she added, “Did everything go okay with him? Because if you're too upset about it, I can see if I can find a replacement.”

Morgan thought back to everything Brian had said about not fighting for her after high school graduation and always regretting it. She thought, yet again, about his arms around her. And then she thought about how much she was looking forward to seeing him again tomorrow.

No doubt about it, she should take Emily up on her offer to pull Brian from the project, because it was the safest way to make sure they didn't get entangled in each other's lives again. But the thought of seeing Brian again only in passing sent such a sharp pang into the center of Morgan's chest, that in the end, she simply gave her sister a reassuring smile and said, “You don’t need to find a replacement, Emily. Everything went fine.”

CHAPTER SIX

Morgan drove over to the garden early the next morning. It was a little way from the houses and stores on the island, up toward the large berry growing fields that Morgan’s Great-Grandfather William Walker had planted all those years ago, back before her grandfather had sold them off to fund the school.

Morgan, of all people, couldn’t blame William Walker II for wanting to follow his dreams, but she was glad that he had thought to hold back this one acre, at least. She used to come here often as a child to pick berries from the few old remaining bushes and plant her own little patches of flowers, and her mother had shown her how to push seeds down into the soil and water them with a tiny watering can while her father looked on. After her mother's death, Morgan had continued to keep up the flowers, feeling sometimes as if the large blue blooms on the Great Blue Lobelia bushes were her mother's way of sprinkling magic onto them from above.

But now that she hadn't been back for more than a few days at a time over the past seven years, berry seeds from the nearby fields had drifted in, making for a mess of brambles and tangles, nettles and weeds. It was going to take a lot of work to turn it back into the bountiful vegetable, fruit and flower garden it had once been. Yet she only felt
more
determined to make it work, and not just for her organic makeup line. Morgan wanted to feel as if her mother was still looking down on her, wanted to pretend that they were out working side by side with the land and the water all around them.

The ringtone on her phone jolted her out of her memories. “The contracts are looking exactly the way we wanted them to,” Juliet said as soon as Morgan picked up. “The distributers are on board, and the production company for the series is looking happy with the format. They want to talk to you about set designs sometime soon and work out a shooting schedule. I also wanted to remind you to take lots of pictures and get them up on your social media pages. It’s time to start building the online buzz about the series so that we’re ready when the pilot program goes out.”

“I’ll get them up soon,” Morgan promised, then checked to make sure there wasn't anything urgent that needed her attention before she hung up.

The network's marketing team had loved the angle of Morgan bringing her family’s garden back to life to produce ingredients for her makeup line. With luck, by the time her line and the show came out together, people would already be so caught up in the photos and videos that she planned to post over the next several weeks that they would automatically be hooked when the show began to air and her makeup line finally hit stores.

But as she breathed in the soft scents of the berry fields around her, Morgan knew this garden could never just be boiled down to a PR angle. Not when it was a
huge
part of who she was, even if she was
the only member of the current generation of Walkers who had inherited the family’s green thumb.

Morgan used her phone to take a few pictures of the wild, overgrown acre, working to make sure that she got the light right and framed the plants so that they drew the eye into the picture.