Haven Creek (21 page)

Nate rubbed Morgan’s short hair between his fingertips. “That’s understandable, baby. A lot of young women have similar experiences. I saw that firsthand when I lived in Europe. I’d thought it was a fad, but someone told me many female college students have affairs with their instructors or men they’ve met in the cities or countries where they were studying.”

Morgan laughed. “Well, I was one of those starry-eyed female students. I don’t regret becoming involved with Leonardo, because I believed I was an adult when I met him. I finally acknowledged that I was a girl in a woman’s body.”

“Were you in love with him?” Nate asked again.

A wry grin twisted her mouth. “I believed I was. So much so I was ready to give up everything I had here to live in Europe.”

“What happened, Mo?”

Morgan chewed her lip as she thought about what she wanted to disclose to Nate. “I found out that our relationship wasn’t the first time he’d slept with a student, stringing her along then summarily dismissing her when it was time for her to return to her home country. A couple of students who knew Leonardo said I was luckier than the others because he’d actually asked me to live with him. Of course that didn’t make me feel any better, but I remembered something my grandfather lectured me about.”

“What’s that?”

“Think with my head and not my heart. Love with my heart and not my head. With Leonardo I was thinking with my heart. He called me a silly little girl because I should’ve accepted what he was offering, but this silly little girl wasn’t about to become a paramour to a man who could trade me in when he took up with someone new.”

Nate kissed her forehead. “Good for you,” he whispered. “Sometimes we have to go through a little adversity to knock us into reality.”

“Are you talking about your marriage?”

“Yes.”

Morgan listened intently as Nate told her about meeting Kimberly at a party he’d attended with his friend Dwight Wickham. Dwight’s father worked in the film industry, and he’d invited his son and Nate to a wrap party for an independent film directed by Kim’s father. The attraction had been instantaneous. Nate and Kim became an A-list couple, dating for a year before setting up house together.

“Six months later we were married in a circuslike spectacle. I should’ve known it wasn’t going to last because we spent the first two weeks of our marriage living apart.”

“Oh, no!” The two words were out before Morgan could stop them.

“Oh, yes,” Nate responded. “The wedding and reception were held on her father’s estate. When it came time for us to leave for our honeymoon, Kim didn’t want to because she was having too good a time with the guests. We were scheduled to sail to Hawaii and stay there for ten days before flying back to the mainland. I went and she stayed in L.A.”

“I’m sorry your marriage didn’t work out.”

“I’m not,” Nate countered. He sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. “Can I see the floor plans for my apartment now?”

Despite what she had said, Morgan wasn’t sorry his marriage hadn’t worked out. He was back, and life had thrown her a vicious curve. She had intended to hire Shaw Woodworking for the project, but instead of Lucas being the supervisor it was Nate. She’d convinced herself that what she’d felt for Nate was nothing more than a lingering childhood crush, a crush that was now a conscious desire for him to make love to her.

Slipping off the bed, she led Nate into her office.

“Why does this room remind me of Paris?” he asked.

She looked at Nate over her shoulder after she’d turned on several table lamps. “That’s because the style is known as Euro-eclectic. The writing table is a classic European-style desk, and the oval-back chair is a Louis XVI–inspired piece. I found the plaques at an estate sale in Savannah. When I bought them I had no idea what I’d use them for, but after I added this room I decided to decorate the walls with them.”

“Did you find the shades at the sale, too?”

Morgan stared at the Roman shades covering the quartet of windows. The gold, orange, and red hues in the exquisite hand-painted wall plaques were repeated in the shades, which were stamped in red with scenes from a Chinese village. This room, like the others, was filled with potted plants and vases of fresh flowers.

“No. I had them custom-made.”

Nate met her eyes. “I like that each room is a different style with its own personality.”

Morgan glanced at her watch. “It’s getting late, so I’ll show you the solarium when you come back. I’ll boot up the computer so you can select which floor plan you’d like. Please pull up a chair.”

Over the next three-quarters of an hour she watched Nate as he stared at a series of floor plans for each of the rooms in the barn house. “I’d like the second bedroom to be an office,” he said, pointing to a plan. All the furnishings were reminiscent of the British colonial and French Regency influences found throughout the Caribbean.

“Okay, you want the entire apartment to have the same island-influenced style,” she said, jotting down the numbers she’d assigned to each of the plans.

“Cavanaugh Island is subtropical, so I’d like to bring the outdoors inside. How soon can I expect delivery after you place the order?”

“Probably three to six weeks. I’ve chosen manufacturers that have most of the pieces in stock.”

Nate placed an arm around Morgan’s shoulders. “Tally up everything and let me know how much I owe you. Don’t forget to include your commission.”

Morgan checked off the floor plans she wanted to print, then clicked the Print icon. “I’m not charging you anything.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t charge friends.”

“What if we weren’t friends?”

“Nate, please. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Well, I do. I’m not going to take advantage of you, Mo. I know it didn’t take fifteen minutes for you to work these up. Either you add your commission or I’ll go to another decorator.”

“No, you won’t,” Morgan countered confidently. “There’s no time. You said yourself you wanted to be moved in by summer’s end.”

His hand tightened around the nape of her neck. “So,” he whispered in her ear. “You think you know me
that
well?”

Turning her head, Morgan stared deeply into the golden orbs holding her captive. “No, but I’m getting to know you.”

He leaned closer. “I wish you’d been older in high school so I would’ve had the opportunity to take you out.”

“I don’t need you to feel sorry for me, Nate. I’m past that.”

“No, you’re not.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “Why would you say that?”

“Because you said you’d never date or marry a man from the island. If you were truly past it, then you would’ve changed your mind.”

“Am I not dating you?”

Nate nodded. “Yes, but—”

Morgan pressed her mouth to his for a quick kiss. “No ifs, ands, or buts. Thanks to you I’ve turned a corner.”

“Big corner or itty-bitty corner?” he whispered against her parted lips.

Inhaling his warm, moist breath, she smiled. “It was a corner of titanic proportions.” Morgan shivered when Nate placed tiny kisses over every inch of her mouth, lingering at the corners. “Now please go home before I beg you to make love to me. And if there’s one thing I don’t like, it’s begging.”

Nate groaned as if he were in pain. “Morgan, do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?”

Her expression reflected her innocence. “What’s the matter?”

Nate closed his eyes. “I’m probably going to spend a restless night fantasizing about you.” He opened his eyes, meeting her wide-eyed stare. “It’s called teasing.”

Her dimples winked at him when she pursed her lips. “I didn’t mean—” Whatever she was going to say died on her lips when Nate pulled her to his chest and kissed her again, his tongue slipping into her mouth. It ended as quickly as it’d begun, leaving Morgan visibly shaken.

“Good night, Mo. I hope you sleep well.”

She stood there a full minute before she was galvanized into action. Morgan made it to the porch in time to see Nate speeding away. At the last possible moment he put his hand out the window and waved to her. Although she returned his wave, she doubted whether he saw her because he was driving much too fast.

She sank down into the rocker instead of going inside. Trying to figure Nate out was like opening a puzzle box that held more than a thousand tiny pieces. He’d talked about wanting to make love to her, but when she echoed his words he had come undone and accused her of teasing him.

Unwittingly, he’d teased her, too. Her dreams weren’t exactly G-rated. There were mornings when she woke up with her heart pounding and the area between her thighs pulsing with need.

Morgan knew she and Nate would eventually share a bed and each other’s bodies, but the question was when—and where would that leave them?

I
t’d been two days since Morgan had implored Nate,
Please go home before I beg you to make love to me,
and since that time he hadn’t been able to get a restful night’s sleep. Rolling over, he opened one eye, peering at the clock on the bedside table. It was 2:17. He punched the pillow under his head, not wanting to acknowledge that he was turning into an insomniac.

Nate had told Morgan that she’d been too young for him when they were in high school and if given the opportunity to date her he knew for certain he wouldn’t have slept with her. He hadn’t needed her or Chauncey for sex because he’d been secretly sleeping with an older woman, who’d not only taken his virginity but had also introduced him to a world of sensual pleasure.

He punched the pillow again, turning over on his belly. He closed his eyes and attempted deep breathing with the hope he would drift off to sleep. The cell phone he’d left on the bedside table vibrated, the buzzing sound reminding him of an annoying insect. Nate sat up, reaching for the phone. He couldn’t imagine who was calling him so late. The display shone brightly in the darkened bedroom. His sister had left him a text message saying that they were going to drive from Philadelphia to New York and spend two days there visiting the Intrepid Sea, Air, and Space Museum, the Statue of Liberty, and taking in a show at Radio City before heading back to Cavanaugh Island for the Island Fair.

Nate froze when he saw Odessa’s name and number. “What is it? Talk to me!” he shouted when sobbing came through the earpiece.

“Please come, Nate.”

“Is Dad okay?”

“Yes. Just come.”

The next ten minutes were a blur. Nate pulled on a pair of jeans and pushed his feet into a pair of sandals at the same time he pulled a T-shirt over his head. Grabbing his keys off the dresser, he raced out of the house, stopping only to lock the door. It appeared as if he’d just started the SUV when he came to an abrupt stop, tires spewing gravel, as he punched the button to cut off the engine. The sound of deep male voices could be heard through the open windows, and Nate knew why Odessa had called him. His father and brother were yelling at each other. The scene that greeted him would be one he would never forget. Bryce stood nose-to-nose with Lucas, the veins in the necks of both men bulging.

“Bryce!” His brother, reacting in slow motion, turned to stare at Nate. “Outside.” Though spoken softly, the single word had the same impact as if he had shouted it. Waiting until Bryce preceded him out to the porch, Nate closed the door with enough force to rattle the windows. He pointed to a chair. “Sit down. Please, Bryce.” Pulling over a matching chair, Nate straddled it. “Tell me why you felt the need to disrespect our father in
his
home.”

“Stacy’s pregnant.”

Exhaling an audible breath, Nate showed no visible reaction that he was about to be an uncle for the third time. “Was it planned?”

“What do you think? Hell, no, it wasn’t planned.”

Running a hand over his face, Nate felt his temper rising. He counted slowly to ten. “First thing, calm down. Whatever problem you’re facing is
your
problem. It’s not mine, Dad’s, or Odessa’s, so dial down the attitude.”

Lowering his head, Bryce stared at his bare feet. “I’m sorry, Nate. I don’t know what I’m going to do. I’m not ready to become a father.”

Nate curbed the urge to hug his brother. He wasn’t about to lecture Bryce about the fact that if he hadn’t been ready for fatherhood, then he should’ve taken the necessary steps to prevent an unplanned pregnancy.

“I take it Stacy plans to have the baby.”

“Yeah.”

“If that’s the case, then you have to get ready. She didn’t make this baby by herself, so you’re going to have to step up.”

“It’s…it’s not that I don’t love her, but…”

“But what, Bryce?”

“We talked about getting married.”

“Okay. So what’s the problem?” Nate asked.

“Stacy plans to teach until the baby comes, and together we make enough to rent a place in Charleston, but there’s not going to be much left over for food, health insurance, and things we’ll need for the baby.”

“You can’t live in Charleston. Remember, Bryce, the terms of your probation mandate that you live here.”

“Can’t I get my probation officer to change that?”

“Is that what you really want?” Nate asked his brother. “The reason you’re on probation is because you weren’t able to stay away from your crackhead friends. All they have to hear is that you have a place where they can hang out and Stacy will bring either your son or your daughter to visit you in the county jail.”

“That’s not going to happen.”

“So you say. Wake the hell up, Bryce. You’re twenty-two years old and you’re about to become a husband and father. That means you can’t hang out with your friends whenever they call. And trust me, they’re going to come calling. You were always the one with the car and a little spare change. You were the only one who finished high school and went to college. They are who they are—certified bums who will bring you down. Do you think they care how many times they’ve been arrested? For them it’s become a badge of honor to say they’ve done a bid. Shaws don’t do jail.” He’d clearly enunciated the last four words.

Bryce threw up a hand. “That’s all I hear from Dad. Shaws don’t do this or Shaws are expected to do that.”

Bracing his arms on the back of the chair, Nate glared at the younger man. “Don’t forget your girlfriend is carrying a Shaw. Stacy only got back with you after you’d promised her you would go back to college, get your degree, and complete your probation. That sounds like a woman who not only loves you but also has a lot of faith in you. Please, Bryce, don’t prove her wrong.”

“This is not about Stacy,” Bryce countered.

“Yes, it is. You have to stop thinking about yourself. It’s about you, Stacy, and your baby.” Nate reached out and held his brother’s arm. “I envy you, Bryce. You’re going to have what I always wanted.”

“Why would you envy me? You have everything, Nate. You have money up the wazoo and you can come and go whenever and wherever you please. What more do you want?”

A beat passed as Nate tried swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat. “A woman who loves me as much as I love her. The happy anticipation of starting a family.”

A sheepish expression crossed Bryce’s face. “I never looked at it that way. I’m sorry your marriage didn’t work out.”

Nate’s hand tightened on his brother’s arm before releasing it. “I’m not. Now I get to be here to bounce my new baby niece or nephew on my knee. I missed that with Gregory and Gabrielle.”

Leaning back in the cushioned chair, Bryce closed his eyes. “I’m sorry I got in Dad’s face, but I’ve had enough of him telling me to grow up.” He opened his eyes. “In case he hasn’t noticed, I am grown. What he doesn’t get is I can’t be like you. You’ve always been the good son, while I can’t seem to get anything right.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, Bryce. I’ve had confrontations with Dad, but the difference between you and me is I never disrespected him. Don’t tell me you’re sorry. Tell him.”

Bryce exhaled an audible breath. “I will.”

The seconds ticked by as the brothers stared at each other. “I think I can help you out,” Nate said, breaking the silence.

“How?”

Nate could hear trepidation in the query. “After you and Stacy marry, you can live in the apartment in the barn until you finish probation.”

Excitement fired the gold flecks in Bryce’s eyes. “But that’s not going to be for another sixteen months.”

“I happen to know how long it is.”

“What about you, Nate? Where will you live?”

“I’ll live there, too, but in the smaller bedroom.” Nate had to tell Morgan his plan to convert the second bedroom into a home office would have to be scrapped. And that meant he would have to reconfigure an office space on the first floor.

“You would do that for us?”

“Come on, Bryce. Wouldn’t you do the same for me?”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

Nate’s eyebrows lifted. “You guess so?”

“Of course I would.”

Nate smiled. “That’s better. I’ve ordered furniture, but it won’t be delivered for at least another three weeks. Have you and Stacy talked about setting a wedding date?”

“No.”

“I suggest you start planning your future. I’m not going to charge you rent, so that will allow you to save some money. I am going to establish a few rules, though.”

Bryce narrowed his eyes. “What kind of rules?”

“You and Stacy will not move in until you’re married.” Bryce nodded. “And you have to keep it clean.” Nate had overheard Odessa arguing with Bryce about cleaning up his bedroom.

“That’s not a problem. Stacy’s a neat freak.”

“How in the world did she hook up with you?”

“I read somewhere that romance is about the little things. I suppose it’s the little things Stacy likes about me.”

Nate nodded. Bryce was right. It was the little things he liked about Morgan. It was her smile, her laugh, her quick comebacks, her dedication to her family and career, and the sensuality he suspected she was totally oblivious to.

“You’ve got a lot going for you, Bryce. You’ve got skills me and Dad will never have. Making furniture by hand is like weaving sweetgrass baskets. If it wasn’t for Shaw Woodworking and Miss Rose over in the Cove and some of the other older ladies here in the Creek giving lessons, both would cease to exist here on the island. I’ve heard Sharon tell Gregory that even if he doesn’t want to make furniture, as soon as he’s old enough to use a carving knife he’s going to learn to work with wood. And who better to learn it from than you, Bryce?”

“I think I’d like to have Gregory as my apprentice.”

Throwing back his head, Nate laughed. “There you go.” He sobered quickly. “After you get your degree you may decide you want to do something else, but remember there are always people with money willing to pay for something made exclusively by hand.”

He told Bryce about the businessman who’d paid him two million dollars for the ornate doors into which he’d carved Greek and Roman mythical creatures, Go
th
ic-in
spire
d gargoyles, and kings and saints from the Old and New Testaments, making the wood into a work of art.

“Damn,” Bryce drawled. “I had no idea you could make that much money working with a piece of wood. How long did it take you to complete it?”

“It took me two years.”

“Why so long?”

“I was still working for a developer, and I’d taken on this project as an independent contractor. I’d rented space in a warehouse, and whenever I had a few hours to myself I’d work on it. Now I know what Michelangelo must have felt like when he lay on his back for four years painting the Sistine Chapel. There were a few times when I was going to call it quits, but something wouldn’t let me give up. It was the first and last time I ever took on something of that size and scope. But I bet it’s something you’d like, because you love to draw.”

Bryce ran his fingertips over his chin. “You’ve given me an idea. Maybe I could carve a few doors in my spare time and try to sell them.”

Nate stood up. “It sounds ambitious. Remember you’re going to have a wife and child to look after in the not-too-distant future, so you may not have too much spare time.”

“I’ll find the time. Even if it’s only an hour a day.”

“And I’ll help out whenever I can. Once you and Stacy work out what you’re going to do, then let me know. I’m going inside to talk to Dad before I go home.” Nate held out his arms and he wasn’t disappointed when Bryce rose to hug him. “Congratulations, little brother.”

Bryce pounded Nate’s back. “You’re the best brother a dude could have.”

“You say that because I’m your only brother. I want you to wait until I leave before you go in and apologize to Dad.”

Nate left Bryce on the porch when he opened the door and walked into the living room, where his father sat with Odessa. He gave both a warm smile as he sat across from them. “Everything’s going to work out. Bryce is talking about marrying Stacy, and I’ve offered to let them live with me until they get on their feet.”

Odessa covered her mouth with her hand. She blinked back tears. “Bless you, Nate.”

He turned his attention to his father. “Dad, you’re going to have to lighten up on Bryce until he moves out.” Nate held up a hand when Lucas opened his mouth to interrupt him. “Please, let me finish. I told him about disrespecting you, and I don’t think that’s going to happen again.”

“He’s always been somewhat of a wild child,” Odessa said.

“He is what you’ve allowed him to be,” Nate countered. “You can’t wait until he’s an adult and then try to establish boundaries. It’s much too late for that. He’s going to have to inform his probation officer that he’s getting married and that he’s also changing his address.”

Lucas nodded. “I’ll go with him.”

“I’ll do that,” Nate volunteered. “After all, he’ll be living with me.” He stared at his stepmother. Her eyes were red and puffy from crying and his heart turned over in empathy. He smiled and she returned it with a tentative one. “Congratulations, Grandma.”

Clasping her hands together, Odessa bit her lip to still its trembling. “Thank you, Nate. And thank you for coming so quickly.”

He gave her a long, penetrating stare. “We’re Shaws, Odessa. You call and we’ll come. That’s what we do.”

Odessa went completely still. “Are you saying I’m not a Shaw?”

The accusations Nate wanted to fling at her died on his lips. He knew this wasn’t the time or the place to attack her, to finally rid himself of the bitterness he’d carried for years. “No, I’m not saying that. You’re as much a Shaw as Bryce, Sharon, or me. And especially now that you’re going to become a grandmother to another generation of Shaws.” He stood up, and fatigue descended on him like an anchor pulling him down to the bottom of the ocean. “I’m going to sleep in my old bedroom, because right now I don’t think I can make it back to Sharon’s house without falling asleep behind the wheel.”

Odessa jumped up. “I’ll get it ready for you.”

Lucas rose to his feet. “Thanks, son.”