The Trouble With Temptation (Second Service Book 3)(48)

Morgan was wracking her brain for a plan to get them both to safety when she heard the sirens in the distance.

“Finally,” Ty said, letting out a long sigh.

Morgan’s eyes widened. “Those are your guys?”

“The cavalry.” Ty nodded. “Late, as usual.”

“Oh, thank God. I was just trying to figure out how in the hell I was going to throw you over a chain link fence,” she said.

“I’m certainly glad it didn’t come to that,” he said, with a playful sparkle in his eye.

“It would have served you right for scaring me like that,” Morgan said. She would have smacked him in the shoulder…you know, if he wasn’t suffering from a gunshot wound. “I thought you were dead.”

“And how the hell do you think I felt when I woke up this morning and found you gone?”

“Yeah, about that.” Morgan broke eye contact and focused on the dirt. “Sorry. I knew you were having second thoughts—”

“For a damned good reason,” he broke in.

“—And it was my only chance to save my brother.”

Morgan risked a glance and saw that Ty’s lips were pressed together tight. “I’m sorry about Gregg. I was watching through the window when he turned the gun on you.”

“So you blew up the propane tank to stop him.”

“Desperate times,” Ty said, cocking his head to the side. “I figured you’d never forgive me if I shot your brother.”

“You were right,” she said with a nod of her head.

“Even after everything he’s done to you?”

“Just because he’s a disloyal bastard, doesn’t mean that I have to be. I don’t think he’s making the top of my Christmas card list this year, but he’s still family.”

“If you say so.” The tone of his voice made it clear that he didn’t fully agree with her reasoning.

“How did you find me?” Morgan changed the subject as the sirens grew closer.

“I didn’t. Michael did. He planted a tracking device on the back of my jacket last night.”

Morgan smiled widely. “I could tell he didn’t quite trust you.”

“You’re lucky to have so many people that care so deeply about you,” he said. “Myself included.”

“You’re right.” A blush burned Morgan’s cheeks as Ty’s gaze locked with hers. “I am lucky.”

“Did you mean what you said a minute ago?”

“About you deserving to be thrown over a seven-foot fence?”

“No,” he said, his eyes taking on an unusually intense look. “About being in love with me.”

Morgan bit into her lower lip as she slowly nodded. “I think I did.”

“Good,” he said, leaning forward. He brushed the hair away from her cheek with his good hand. “Because I’m pretty sure I’ve fallen head over heels with you, too.”

Morgan closed the distance between them. Ty’s lips brushed against hers, soft and sweet.

For a second she forgot all about dead mobsters, police chases, and traitorous siblings. There was only the two of them. Her and Ty, and the kind of kisses that curled her toes.

Half a second later, the sounds of the gate being broken down echoed through the junkyard and brought her back to her senses. Morgan jumped to her feet. She waved her hands above her head in a wide arc, desperate for them to see her.

“Hey! Over here. Ty’s been shot,” she called out.

The next minutes went by in a rush. All kinds of cops rushed over—some SFPD, some FBI. Paramedics were called. They did their best to patch Ty up where he sat then lifted him onto a gurney.

Morgan stayed by his side as they rolled him toward the ambulance, only letting go of his hand as they slid him inside.

Morgan turned around and searched the crowd of officers for the most senior-looking of all of them. Dark blue suit. Grey hair. That had to be Ty’s boss.

She ran over to him. “Can I follow Ty to the hospital?” she asked.

“I’m afraid not, Miss Kincaid,” the man said. “We have some questions to ask you first.”

Crap.

“Don’t worry,” the man said with a sliver of sympathy in his eyes. “I’m Agent Washington. Agent Brannigan made me promise I would drive you to the hospital myself once we’re done.”

“Is this going to take long?” she asked, turning around to watch the ambulance speed off down the street.

“Probably,” the man said.

“I was afraid of that,” she said with a deep shrug. “Then I guess we better get started.”

“I suppose we should.” A slight smile pulled at the agent’s mouth. “We’ll start with if you know this man. We found him running down the street.”

The agent turned Morgan toward a police car that was slowly driving through the crashed gate. It stopped at her side. Morgan leaned over to peer through the window. There, in the back seat, she saw Gregg sitting with his head hung low, his hands still clutching Barinov’s briefcase.

“I do,” Morgan said as she straightened up. “As much as I hate to admit it, I do.”





Chapter Sixteen