“Morgan.” A gentle hand found his elbow. “Mmm, let me help you up.”
He wanted to say no, but there was no way in hell he was getting up the hill to the lighthouse on his own. Instead, Morgan carefully avoided eye contact as Ty took both him and the duffel bag out of the boat and onto the gravel path. The walk cleared his head a bit, and by the time they got to the front stoop of the lighthouse, he was able to remember where he’d put the keys.
“Thank you,” he said after he opened the front door.
“You’re welcome,” Ty said quickly. “But—you still don’t seem well. I can help you.”
Morgan shook his head. “You’ve helped enough. I won’t bother you anymore.”
“Morgan …” He waited, but Ty didn’t seem to have anything to add. No explanation, no apology of his own, nothing.
Well, that made this next part a little easier, then. “Bye, Ty.”
Then he closed the door behind him, shutting Ty out.
Chapter six
The problem with being alone again after a solid week of company was that Morgan had evolved … or maybe reverted ... intowantingcompany again. When he first came to Parrish Island, he was perfectly happy to be by himself because the thought of being around other people left him so uncomfortable he couldn’t even consider it for more than a few seconds before forcibly finding something else to do. He was sick of people, sick of pushing, sick of questions and offers and sly asides and even well-meaning messages from Katie. But with Ty, there hadn’t been any of that. Ty’s default mode seemed to be silence although he answered most of Morgan’s questions willingly enough, and he hadn’t asked for much in return.
Next to nothing, in fact.
He gave his companionship, his caring, his presence. He gave his space and his time, and all Morgan had to do was accept it all without rocking the boat.Ha.
It was almost enough to make Morgan second-guess his reaction at the end, but then he remembered how frantic he had felt when Ty left, and he didn’t know where to find him. It would have been bad enough if he’d taken the boat, but to vanish without a trace and leave Morgan with nothing to do but wonder if he was okay, if he’d slipped into the water, if he’d beenhurt—
No. Morgan wasn’t crazy, and he wasn’t overreacting. He needed a certain level of honesty from the people he let in and called his friends, now more than ever after what he’d gone through with Bentley. And Ty had given him nothing on that front, so leaving was for the best. It was fine. He’d get used to solitude again soon.
Except for the fact that he wasn’tactuallyalone all the time. Ty kept coming by every morning to drop off a fish in the cooler in front of the lighthouse, only now he did it when it was late enough in the morning for Morgan to be awake.
The first time he stopped by, Morgan wondered if he wasn’t hearing things, or if an animal wasn’t messing around outside. He’d pulled himself out of bed, wincing at the chill on his bare chest—shirts were still tough to put on by himself, and he ran hot during the night anyway—and walked down to the front door in time to see Ty back down by the dock, getting into his boat. They stared at each other in silence for a moment before Ty raised a hand in an awkward wave, then pushed off into the water and left.
Just like that. No belated apology, no question about how he felt, or how he was settling in, just—gone.
Bullshit.Morgan ignored the pang in his heart, but he wasn’t able to ignore the fish in the cooler. It was wrapped in butcher paper and gutted, skinned, and filleted. He cooked some up for breakfast, and it was delicious.
Damn it.
Still, Morgan wasn’t going to be cozened so easily. He ignored the comings and goings in the morning after that, didn’t wait with bated breath to time the duration between the sound of the boat arriving and the sound of its motor revving up again to leave. He just went about his business, which was depressingly dull since he still wasn’t checking emails or getting online. He took exactly one call from his mother and immediately regretted it.
“My poor baby,” she cooed over the line. “You need to get out of that nasty place. Why don’t we meet in Portland? Or Seattle! There’s a beautiful spa in Seattle that David and I would love to try, and I think it would be just the thing to make you feel better.”
Morgan frowned in confusion. “Who’s David?”
“My boyfriend, honey. You know, the one who owns the sports betting app?”
“I thought you were dating a realtor.”
She laughed, light and tinkly and nothing like the belly laughs he remembered from her when he was a child. “Oh no, Kevin and I broke up weeks ago! You’d know these things if you bothered to pick up the phone more often, honey. No, David is a very nice man, he’s got a house in St. Paulanda beautiful place by Lake Superior, and he can’t wait to talk to you about his app. It’s doing really well, and we think with the right investment it could be poised to take over a significant share of the marketplace.”
Yep, there it was. Morgan really felt the love. He made his excuses, ended the call, and went back to trying to rehab his shoulder.
That part was challenging. The joint honestly felt pretty solid right now, but the muscles all around it were unnaturally tense, making his neck stiff and giving him back pain in addition to thesore shoulder. The concussion symptoms were gone, thank God, but he was still getting headaches, thanks to his dumb neck.
A week after getting back to the lighthouse and with his range of motion no better than when he’d first arrived, he gave in and called the doctor he’d picked to be his new GP. Dr. Simpson was older, no-nonsense, verging on being a jackass, and most importantly, willing to do visits online. Telemedicine, at least, was something Morgan was used to after all the work he’d done with his business.
“You should have contacted me earlier,” he was scolded, and yeah, that was fair. “I’d like to check you out in person before I make a recommendation, but I’m thinking you’ve got some physical therapy in your future.”
“I figured as much.” Morgan nodded. “When can you see me?”
