The Trouble With Temptation (Second Service Book 3) (12 page)

“I do now.” He went to the bed and sat down on the edge. He hunched over, elbows resting on his knees. “I’m still not sure about this plan. Do you really think that your friend can throw together a device that can do what he said in less than a day?”

“I do. He’s a lot like you,” Morgan said, leaning back in her chair.

“Why do you say that?”

“He doesn’t brag. If he says he can do it, he can.”

Ty looked up from the floor and locked gazes with her. A cocky smile played at the corner of his lips. “You’re sure that’s enough to make him
a lot
like me?”

Morgan shrugged. “Some kids dream of being James Bond when they grow up, some kids dream about being Q.”

“Which one did you dream about?”

“Me?” Morgan smiled. “I was Wonder Woman.”

Chapter Thirteen

“Then you just attach the wire to the battery,” Morgan said, tightening the last screw top over the exposed copper wire. “And—ta-da!—you’ve got yourself a robot.”

Morgan lifted the collection of metal parts and rubber wheels off the floor of the common area of the warehouse and held it up for Ty to see.

“That’s amazing,” Ty said, but his soft green eyes weren’t on her hastily put together creation. They were on her.

“Do you want to give it a try?” she asked.

Ty shook his head. “I have far more experience disarming wires than attaching them.”

Morgan laughed. She didn’t doubt it. She could see him clearly in her mind, bent over a bomb, calmly cutting the blue wire instead of the red. “It’s never too late to learn.”

Ty stretched out his legs on the concrete floor and leaned back on his straight arms. “I’d rather watch you do it.”

Morgan felt a blush creep into her cheeks, but she didn’t dip her head to try and hide it. She found she liked being the focus of Ty’s attention. Just like she enjoyed looking back at him.

She scooted closer to his side.

“That sounds a little boring,” she said.

“Not at all.” He reached out with one hand and lazily flicked one of the tires. “You get a glow when you’re doing something you love. You should do it more often.”

Morgan’s smile faltered as a swift rush of shame sliced through her.

He was right. She should. How long had it been since she’d gotten down and bolted parts together? Over a year. Not since the day she’d agreed to go into business with Gregg. After that, she’d poured every bit of spare time she had into making their business a success.

But even with all the satisfaction that had come with success, she had never once in the whole year felt the same surge of joy that she had in the last few hours. And it wasn’t just because her hands were busy.

It was where she was. It was the people around her, the feeling that she was right where she should be.

In a way it didn’t make sense. She had armed hit men after her. She should be cowering in a corner somewhere, afraid to even move like she had been yesterday. But she wasn’t. She wasn’t hiding anymore. She wasn’t pretending to be someone else. She was herself here. She was happy.

Sure, she knew that any moment it could change. She still flinched when sirens passed by, certain they were coming for her. She jumped at every bang and bump believing for that half-second that it meant that a
Bratva
hit man was about to shower the place with bullets.

But none of those things had happened. Instead, she’d spent the day with Ty, giving him a tour of the warehouse, introducing him to her friends and showing him how their various gadgets worked. He asked a lot of questions—most of them ones Morgan was pretty sure he wasn’t interested in the answers to.

Just like he didn’t really care about the simple remote controlled robot she’d just made. She could see right through his attempts to keep her busy and distracted…and she appreciated the hell out of them.

Especially, since he didn’t have to. He didn’t have to be doing any of this—not entertaining her plan to stop Barinov, not bringing her to Michael’s warehouse, and definitely not trusting these people the way she did.

She couldn’t remember the last time someone had believed in her the way Ty had. Not Gregg. Not even Michael.

They’d depended on her, sure. They’d even trusted her with important stuff. But they hadn’t really believed in her, not to the extent that they gave her opinion as much weight as their own.

And that was just what Ty was doing.

“And what makes you glow?” Morgan asked as she leaned against his chest.

“Stopping the bad guy. Saving the day.” He lifted his hand to her shoulder and gave it a little squeeze. “The usual James Bond stuff.”

Morgan tilted her head back so he could see her roll her eyes.

“You asked,” he said with a grin.

“Fair enough.” Morgan put the wheels down on the hard floor and picked up the remote. She tucked her bottom between Ty’s outstretched legs and flicked the on switch. The robot twitched as power surged through its parts. She pushed the toggle forward and the machine began to roll. “So what made you want to be a secret agent anyway?”

“Same thing that makes you want to build robots, I guess. It’s just in our blood.”

“Yeah, but it gets there somehow.” Morgan maneuvered the wheels into a seamless figure eight. “I got into this after Gregg teased me for believing that C-3PO was a real robot and not an actor in a metal suit.”

“That sounds like a good reason.”

“What about you?”

Morgan felt Ty stiffen behind her. She didn’t press him. She just played with the switches on her remote, turning the robot this way and that, hoping that he’d trust her with the answer.

“I didn’t grow up in the best neighborhood,” Ty said a full minute later. “I lost some friends. It didn’t seem like anyone in a position to stop the violence cared enough to try.”

“I’m sorry,” Morgan said, putting down the remote. She turned around to look at Ty. His gaze was focused somewhere far away, and the devil-may-care look was gone.

“It was a long time ago.”

“I’m still sorry.”

He nodded. “The Navy gave me a way out and I was grateful for it. When I got out, I decided I would be the person that cared enough to stop it.”

Silence hung in the air for another couple of seconds before Ty looked back down at her.

“Wow,” Morgan said, giving him a tight smile. “Your story wins.”

Ty chuckled, the humor coming back into his eyes. He pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “Just so long as we have that straight.”

He tilted his head down toward her lips. Morgan closed her eyes. She leaned forward.

And heard a not-so subtle cough behind her.

Morgan opened her eyes and found Ty glaring daggers at someone behind her. She swiveled around. Michael stood about ten feet away.

“I’m not interrupting something, am I?” he asked.

“Of course not,” Ty said with a heavy sigh. “Why would you even ask?”

“Because it looked like you two were about to kiss.”

“
About to
. But not anymore,” Ty said. He rose to his feet and adjusted the front of his pants. “Did you need something?”

“Yeah,” he said. “We’ve got a mock up that should work for what you need. I thought you’d want to see it.”

“That was fast.” Morgan took Ty’s outstretched hand and he lifted her up. “We’d love to see what you’ve got.”

Morgan followed Michael down the hall. She could hear Ty’s heavy footsteps right behind her. Just like she could hear him muttering under his breath, “Yeah, Michael. I’d
love
to see what you’ve got.”

***

As much as Ty hated to admit it, Michael’s device was perfect. Small, portable, easy to use—it was everything they could have hoped for. All Morgan had to do was attach the gadget to the electric panel of her brother’s safe and manually run through the numbers. The device’s light would turn from red to green when she hit the next correct key in the sequence. Then she’d just have to put them together at the end.

She could be in and out in under five minutes.

It was an impressive solution to a difficult problem. So why was he struggling against the urge to clock Michael square in the jaw instead of pat him on the back?

Maybe it was the way Morgan had decided to thank Michael when he’d handed her the gadget—throwing her arms around the guy’s neck and laying a big ol’ kiss on his cheek.

Of course, that didn’t make sense. Even if Ty was the jealous kind—which he wasn’t—he was still smart enough to know the difference between a friendly show of appreciation and a true moment of intimacy.

What was with the sudden surge of possessiveness?

All Ty knew was how close—and long—Michael was holding her wasn’t helping any.

He gave a loud cough.

Michael met his pointed stare for half a second before he loosened his hold around Morgan’s waist.

So he wasn’t imagining anything. Michael still had feelings for Morgan.

Not that Ty could blame him. Hell, he was falling for her pretty damned hard. He hadn’t known her for a full week yet and the woman had him acting like a damned fool…the way he’d laughed at his friends for acting when they’d fallen in love. He could only imagine what they would think if they could see him now.

“I can’t believe you were able to throw this together in nine hours,” Morgan said, taking a step back.

“Eight, really,” Michael corrected her. “We took an hour break for tacos.”

“Tacos?” Morgan’s eyes lit up.

“There are still some in the commissary if you’re hungry. I’m happy to go back with you for seconds,” the dark-haired lady on Michael’s team said.

“You bet.” Morgan turned toward Ty. “Shall we go grab some dinner?”

“Do you mind grabbing me a couple? I have some questions for Michael.”

“Of course. I’ll meet you back in the room.” She handed him the gadget then lifted herself up on tiptoes to give him a kiss. A real one. On the lips.

Ty turned back to Michael the moment they were alone. The other man’s spine and shoulders were straight and stiff as a T beam. His hands were clasped in front of his waist, and his gaze was direct.

“Yes,” Michael said before Ty could open his mouth.

“Yes, what?” Ty blinked.

“Yes, I still have feelings for Morgan.” He lifted his chin a notch higher. “That
was
what you were going to ask me, wasn’t it?”

Ty shook his head and chuckled. “I didn’t need to ask. It’s pretty obvious.”

“I can assure you, I have no intention of acting on those feelings.”

“I know,” Ty said.

Michael’s eyebrows shot up high enough to meet his hairline. So, that was why the poor guy was holding himself so stiffly. He was anticipating a beat down.

“How could you possibly know that?” Michael asked.

“The same way you knew that I was going after the
Bratva
. You’re not that hard to read.”

“And you’re not upset?”

“How could I be angry at someone for something I’m guilty of myself?”

Michael silently held Ty’s gaze for a long moment, as if he was trying to figure something out and coming up snake eyes. By the looks of it, it wasn’t a situation he’d had much experience with. “So, why did you stay behind? What did you want to ask me about?”

Ty glanced down at the safe-cracking device in his hand. His thumb traced over the plain plate steel case. It wasn’t much to look at, but it might have been the most impressive improvised piece of gadgetry Ty had ever seen. He lifted it up in front of him.

“This,” he said.

“What about it?” Michael’s eyes narrowed. He might be relieved that he wasn’t about to get his ass handed to him by an ex-SEAL, but it was obvious the man wasn’t about to put Ty on his most trusted list.

“You made it from scratch?”

Michael nodded. “With help from my team.”

“And you did it in just eight hours?”

“You don’t believe me?” Michael asked, cocking his head slightly to the side.

“I believe you.” Ty flipped the device over in his hand before slipping it into his jacket pocket. “And I’m impressed. I know some people back at Quantico who would be impressed too.”

“That’s flattering, but I didn’t make it as a job application. I made it to save Morgan.”

Save
, not help.

The smile froze on Ty’s face. “You don’t think I can keep her safe?”

“I don’t know you.”

It was one hell of a diplomatic answer. Maybe the suits back in Virginia would love him, but Ty wasn’t about to give him a pass.

Ty crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Really? Cause you seemed pretty confident you could read me a few hours ago.”

Michael looked at him long and hard before replying. Eventually, he shrugged his shoulders in defeat and pushed his hands deep into his pockets. “You seem incredibly competent at what you do, but it doesn’t matter what I think. The question is, are
you
one hundred percent certain that you can protect her once she walks into that club tomorrow?”

Doubt crept into Ty’s mind.

He knew the answer better than anyone. “Nothing is one hundred percent.”

“Then what percentage of risk is acceptable when it comes to Morgan’s life. Ninety? Eighty? Fifty/fifty?”

Ty bit into his lower lip. He wanted to blame Michael Silva for planting the seeds of uncertainty in his mind, but the truth was he’d been struggling with the same thoughts all day.

Morgan’s plan was a decent one, sure, and he might be totally willing to go along with it if it was anyone else in the world.