Sydney clicked off the phone and rolled her eyes. “Please tell me we’re going out tonight. This place has exploded, and I swear, all I can think about is wine.”

Morgan laughed. “Sure, tonight is good.”

“Good. Becca has been begging for our babysitter to come over and play, so I have no guilt. Sometimes she orders me to go out, almost like she senses I need adult time. Four years old, and she’s already brilliant, with a stubborn streak. Lord help me with the teenage years.”

Brady came out of the conference room with a harried look on his face. “I gotta get out of here,” he muttered. Dark hair caught back in a ponytail, his usual polished demeanor held a touch of the desperation. “Sydney, if anyone calls, tell them I’m working from home. This is like a pit of pythons, and I’m not getting swallowed whole today. How are you, Morgan?”

“Good. Client issues?” Morgan asked.

Brady gave a theatrical sigh. “Pierce issues. Meaning these three are going to put me in an early grave. Have you seen them yet today?”

Morgan shook her head. “I had some earlier appointments but wanted to stop and see Cal. Did something happen?”

Brady and Sydney shared a look. Something passed between them but it was obviously private. “Nah, just a bad day. Syd, keep an eye out and call if you need me. See you ladies later.”

Morgan watched his retreating back and frowned. Last night, she’d tried to get Cal to talk about the confrontation between his brothers, but he refused. He smiled and held her and promised there was nothing to worry about, but a dark cloud she didn’t understand seemed to hover around him. Almost like a brewing storm that she had no clue how to avoid. Her heart ached for him. “Is Cal in the back?” Morgan asked.

Sydney sighed and grabbed the ringing phone, motioning her to head to his office. Morgan walked down the carpeted hallway and found the door halfway open. She pushed it back and ducked her head in. “Got a minute?”

Cal looked up and gave her a tired smile. “For you? Always.” He stood up, and she walked into his arms without hesitation. Warmth and strength closed around her, and she rested her head on his shoulder, enjoying his presence. The delicious spicy scent of him surrounded her. She lay quiet for a few moments, breathing him in. It shouldn’t be this comfortable, or easy, at such an early point. At least, that’s what her mind barked at her when the voice of doom clicked on and gleefully listed the million reasons a long-term relationship would never work with them.

But her body was currently making her mind her bitch, and Morgan loved every second.

“What’s up?” he asked.

“Dalton’s finishing up cabinetry and laying the flooring. Tristan is working on finishes and handling the appliance delivery. I’m heading out to check on things soon. Stuck with paperwork?”

She knew Cal hated being in the office, away from the action, but today he seemed a bit distant. As if he had something on his mind. The fight with his brothers? Or was he beginning to tire from this relationship? Worry nagged at her, so Morgan eased back and put space between them. He let her.

“Handling some phone calls and contracts. Finalizing some invoices Tristan didn’t get to yet. Sounds like you have everything in control for today.”

The warning bells clanged louder. “Sure. Sydney and I are going out tonight,” she said casually.

“Good.” He glanced down at the stack of papers on the desk, obviously distracted. “You’ll have fun.”

Sometimes he asked her to stop by after dinner to see him. Sometimes he growled in her ear about missing out on her delectable body but encouraged her to have some girl time.

Not today.

Morgan ignored the dread creeping over her and gave him a tight smile. “You look busy. I’m going to head out. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

He’d already dismissed her, sitting back down and staring down at the desk. “Great. Have fun.”

She walked out on leaden feet and stopped by Sydney’s desk. “What time should I pick you up?” she asked. Morgan kept her tone light and frothy.

“Seven’s good.” Sydney peered at her, concern showing in her green eyes. “You sure you want to go out? It’s okay if you made plans with Cal.”

Sydney knew they were dating, and Morgan had recently confessed they were sleeping together. She’d learned to trust Sydney and her confidence. “Nope, we have nothing going on. I better get going. See you tonight.”

The rest of the day crawled by. It was as if she were seeing the world through a distorted lens. Did Cal need a bit of distance? They’d been spending an awful lot of time together. Maybe he just needed his space. Men got weird when things got too intense.

She went over their time together and told herself to just back off a bit. He’d been sweet and given her a hug. Sure, he seemed distant, but maybe a few evenings off to let things simmer would be helpful. He was dealing with family stress and the terms of the will. She didn’t need to see him all the time. Going out tonight with Sydney would be good for them.

Morgan ignored the emptiness and got back to work.

Cal drove his pickup blindly outside the busy city limits and toward the edge of town. The music was loud, but he only heard a dim buzzing. His head was full of images and his stomach—or his heart—was filled with emotion. Wherever those damn things came from.

He finally pulled into the old pub that had been bought and reopened, the place Morgan had been arrested for prostitution. No one would look for him here. He’d already turned off his phone so he wouldn’t be bothered by thoughtful calls or texts from friends. Morgan was out with Sydney and safe. Tonight he was finally alone with the only person he wanted to be with.

Mr. Jack Daniel.

He pushed his way into the tavern, noticing the wide-open space and interesting decor that had been added. The bar was still massive but crumbling from the foundation. He made a mental note to tell the owner it needed some refurbishing, then slid his ass onto the stool and waited for the bartender.

A woman in leather pants and a low-cut black top with fringes floated over to him. There was a detailed tat on her right shoulder, climbing down her arm, of a sword with droplets of scattered blood. Interesting. Her hair was long and wild and black as a raven’s. She screamed sex and fierceness, but there wasn’t even a stirring in his pants. Nope, give him his silvery-haired, petite, polite, sassy Southerner any day and his dick couldn’t be tamed. He was in a lot more trouble than he thought. “What can I get you?”