“Like hell,” her dad says. “Don’t settle for a man who—”
“She can stay,” I say, and not because this is smart. Because she is mine as long as she is close, and I’d rather fall into chaos than hand her back.
His eyes narrow, but he concedes. “Very well.” He shakes my hand firmly, then leans in, his voice a dark whisper only I can hear.
“If you get her pregnant, a girl like Morganmustmarry the child’s father. Don’t let that be the reason my daughter chooses you.”
The door shuts. For a second, neither of us speaks. Boxes crowd the room. My brothers are here. Her father’s words still rot in the air.
But Morgan is standing in my house, looking at me like she belongs here.
I reach for her face before I can think better of it.
“You didn’t fuck it up.”
Her eyes gloss. “I told you I wouldn’t.”
It’s incredible. A miracle, if such things existed. But isthisreal?
I peek over at Noel, who appears as stunned as I am. We hold eye contact, and the silent gaze is intense and telling.
After last night, he knows I love Morgan, but now she’s here, in his space. And I’m begging with my eyes that he can accept the unthinkable.
Fuck, I’m barely able to accept she’s here.
Chapter 47
Jack
Noel looks out the window, watching Morgan’s dad pull away. He grabs the van keys, the vehicle we bought using the money donated during the trial. I didn’t have a choice. Julie had done enough. I didn’t want to bother her endlessly for rides.
“I need to get to work,” Noel says. “Looks like Morgan can take you and Tommy to the center.”
I glance out of the window. Her big white truck shines in the early light.
Before I can respond, he’s out the door.
The house goes quiet in a way it never has before. Morgan is here. In my house. In the morning light. And for one dizzy second, I forget to panic, because this is what I wanted. Her. With me. Like something almost normal.
I close my eyes for a moment, letting it sink in. When they reopen, I startle. Morgan blocks my path. Gently, slowly, she takes my hands in hers. Her voice is soft, and she chooses each word carefully.
“Jack. I know this is a lot for you. It is for me, too.” She brings my knuckles to her lips, delivering a tender kiss.
That tiny kiss goes through me, electric yet grounding. Still, it makes wanting her worse, because she’s acting like she already has a place here, in my heart. And she knows she does. I made that clear at Tybee Island. She holds all the cards.
She kisses my knuckles once more. “If it gets too much, I’ll go to my parents until you’re ready. Okay?”
The thought hits like a knife: her leaving, this house empty again, her scent fading out of my sheets before I even get used to it.
No.
No, I don’t want ready. I want now.
I won’t entertain it for a moment. Besides, something else is more pressing. I shouldn’t ask. I already know the word wrecks me.
Still, I hear myself say, “You want to get married, or was that your dad pushing you?”
She grimaces hard. “We don’t have to talk about that right now.”
