The Trouble With Temptation (Second Service Book 3)(35)

Ty’s spine straightened but he didn’t say a word. Michael continued.

“And seeing how one of the main focuses of the FBI is bringing down organized crime, and the rumor on the street is that certain higher ups in the Russian Mob have started calling Morgan’s nightclub home, I’m going to go out on a limb and guess they’re your target and the reason for the blood on her dress.

“And since Gregg Kincaid is the only person I know who’s both greedy and stupid enough to get wrapped up with dangerous criminals, I’m going to posit that it’s his safe you need access to, and that Morgan is asking me so that you can circumvent the usual time-consuming legal avenues you, as a sworn government official, would have to take.”

Michael cocked his head to the side. “Is that about right?”

Ty’s face went as hard as stone.

“Close enough,” Morgan answered for him. “Except, we’re more concerned about blowing Ty’s cover than worrying about how long it would take to get a search warrant.”

“Ah,” Michael said, his eyes widening in understanding. “Then I’ll be sure to keep it quiet. And I’ll ask around and see if I can find any clothes in your size that aren’t splattered in bodily fluids.”

“That would be appreciated,” Morgan said as Michael turned to leave. Ty didn’t stop him this time. But he did turn to her the moment the door closed.

“What the hell just happened there?” he asked.

Morgan laughed. “You aren’t the only one in the world with highly specialized talents, you know.”

“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.