And beneath it all, the growing certainty that he was falling for her—falling in a way that would make maintaining his separate identities utterly impossible.
14
Morgan
Morgan trudged up the final flight of stairs to her apartment, her shoulders aching from the weight of her purse, but she’d had a great evening. The clay bowl she’d managed to create during their pottery class was lopsided, but it was still her best effort to date. Tessa had joked it could serve as either a candy dish or an ashtray, “depending on how your life is going.”
Tonight had been exactly what she needed—laughing with friends, the familiar rhythm of their Wednesday ritual providing a welcome distraction from thoughts of work and the upcoming evening with Archer. She’d purposely avoided mentioning him to the group, despite Tessa’s not-so-subtle hints and raised eyebrows. The connection with Archer felt too new, too fragile to expose to outside scrutiny.
Reaching her door, Morgan shifted her belongings to free a hand for her keys. The bus ride home had been uneventful but tiring, and all she wanted now was a hot shower and sleep. Tomorrow would be a full day—work, her testing appointment, and then Archer coming over. The thought sent a pleasant flutter through her stomach despite her exhaustion.
As she slid her key into the lock, it turned without resistance. Morgan froze, key halfway through its rotation. The door wasn’t locked. Had she forgotten to lock it this morning in her rush to get to work?
She turned the handle and pushed the door open cautiously, listening for any sounds from within. Silence greeted her, the apartment dark except for the small lamp she always left on by the entryway.
Heart pounding, she flipped on the overhead light and scanned the living room.
Nothing seemed disturbed. Her laptop sat where she’d left it on the coffee table. The pile of magazines on the side table remained in their haphazard stack.
Morgan checked the bedroom and bathroom—everything appeared normal there too. No open drawers, no items moved from their usual places.
“You’re being paranoid,” she muttered to herself. “You just forgot to lock the door.”
But the uneasy feeling persisted. She was habitually careful about locking up, especially since the recent debacle with Jason and getting new locks.
Had she really been so distracted by thoughts of Archer and her morning phone call that she’d neglected to secure her door?
After checking any place someone may hide in her apartment, she dropped onto her couch, suddenly remembering the business card tucked into her wallet. Kane had handed her his card after the installation, telling her to call if she had any security concerns, no matter how small.
“It’s what I do,” he’d said with a quiet confidence that had immediately put her at ease.
She retrieved the card from her wallet, running her thumb over the embossed lettering: MAXWELL SOLUTIONS. Below the company name was Kane’s full name—Kane Maxwell—and his direct number. At the time, she’d wondered if he’d named the company after himself or if it was just a convenient coincidence.
Morgan tucked the card back into her wallet, resolving to call him tomorrow. While the building had security cameras in the main lobby and outside, her apartment had none. Given the inexplicable unlocked door and her general unease, adding some cameras seemed like a reasonable precaution. Better safe than sorry, especially with how things ended with Jason, and the weird things happening at work.
The thought reminded her of tomorrow night’s plans. Morgan headed to her bedroom and opened her dresser drawer, pulling out a black lace lingerie set she’d bought on a whim months ago. The bra and matching thong were delicate and daring—beautiful pieces she hadn’t had a chance to wear.
They’d lived in the back of her drawer like a quiet promise, something she told herself she’d wear when it meant something.
She held the lace up to the light, her thoughts drifting to Archer. Would he make her keep the blindfold on while he explored her body? Or would he finally remove it, allowing her to see the face that went with the voice, the mouth that had brought her such intense pleasure?
Either way, tomorrow night promised to be unforgettable. Morgan carefully returned the lingerie to her drawer and prepared for bed, double-checking that her door was locked before finally allowing exhaustion to claim her.
The insistent blare of her alarm had Morgan hitting snooze twice before finally dragging herself out of bed, remembering her resolution to call Kane about the security cameras. She glanced at the clock—7:15 AM. Probably too early for a professional call.
After showering and dressing, she sat at her kitchen counter with a cup of coffee and the business card. 8:00 AM seemed a more reasonable hour to make the call. She dialed the number, half-expecting to reach voicemail at this hour.
“Maxwell,” a deep voice answered on the second ring.
“Hi, Kane? This is Morgan Reeves. I don’t know if you remember me, but you installed new locks for me a few days ago—”
“Bullett’s friend,” he said immediately. “Of course I remember. Everything okay with the locks?”
“The locks are perfect,” Morgan assured him. “Actually, I was wondering if you do security camera installations too?”
“Absolutely,” Kane confirmed. “What did you have in mind?”
Morgan explained her concerns, deliberately keeping her description vague—a door she thought she’d locked, a general feeling of unease.
