“I’m not,” Morgan said quickly. Too quickly, based on Tessa’s knowing “mmhmm” on the other end. “I just got out of a relationship. The last thing I need is to jump into something new, especially with someone I literally know nothing about.”
“Except that he rides a motorcycle, goes by the same name as a deadly object, and likes to rescue women from jerky ex-boyfriends.”
“Not helping, Tess.”
“All I’m saying is, the best way to get over someone is to—”
“If you say ‘get under someone else,’ I’m hanging up.”
Tessa’s laugh was warm through the phone. “I was going to say ‘treat yourself to something that makes you happy,’ but your mind clearly went somewhere specific with Motorcycle Man.”
Morgan groaned. “I’m hanging up now.”
“Change those locks tomorrow! I’ve got meetings this weekend, but call if you need anything. And I want to hear all about it during our lunch on Monday!”
After they hung up, Morgan found herself looking at the text exchange with Bullet again. It was harmless, right? Just thanking someone who’d helped her. But that flutter in her stomach when she reread his messages suggested it might not be so simple.
Her phone chimed with an incoming email, pulling her attention from Bullet’s texts. The subject line made her stomach drop.
URGENT: Status Update Required – Client Presentation
An email from Richard. At 10:48 PM. Unbelievable.
Morgan, I noticed several inconsistencies in the Henderson portfolio you submitted today. We need to address these before I meet with them tomorrow. Please review the attached notes and have a revised version emailed to me by 8AM.
She clicked on the attachment, blood pressure rising as she scanned his “notes”—a list of nitpicky changes that contradicted the direction he’d given her yesterday. Changes that would take hours to implement.
“You have got to be kidding me,” she muttered, tossing her phone aside.
Today had already been the longest day imaginable. She’d broken up with her boyfriend of nine months after catching him cheating, been borderline threatened by said ex, and now her boss wanted her to pull an all-nighter on a Friday night for changes that would probably be reversed tomorrow anyway.
Morgan rubbed her temples where a headache was forming. Focus on one problem at a time. The locks. She needed to handle that first thing tomorrow. Then the Richard situation. Then... well, everything else would have to wait.
She glanced again at her phone, at the text from the mysterious man who called himself Bullet.
Maybe Tessa was right. Maybe she did need something—or someone—that made her happy for a change.
Before she could overthink it, Morgan picked up her phone and typed a new message.
Do mysterious bikers who rescue damsels in distress also know any reliable locksmiths who make emergency house calls?
She hit send before she could change her mind, then set her phone down and opened her laptop to start on Richard’s ridiculous revisions.
To her surprise, her phone chimed almost immediately.
As a matter of fact, I do. How’s noon tomorrow?
Morgan stared at the message, fingers hovering over the keyboard. This was crazy. She didn’t know this man. He could be anyone.
But then again, he’d had every opportunity to be creepy or inappropriate earlier and had instead been nothing but respectful. And right now, with Jason having a key to her apartment and her boss making unreasonable demands, she could use an ally—even a helmeted one.
Noon works. Thank you.
She added her address, then immediately wondered if that had been too trusting. But he’d already responded.
Locksmith will be there. You won’t need to pay him. Let’s just say it’s part of the masked vigilante package.
Morgan couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face.I can pay for my own locks.
