Accidentally on Purpose Page 16

  good front. Fake it until you make it and all that. But something about her worried him. If she’d been all attitude and bravado, he could have blown her off.

  But she was afraid, although of what he had no idea. With her, it could be anything. And if she brought the trouble to Elle . . . “Tell me what’s going on, Morgan.”

  Her smile faded. Her mouth trembled, although she put her fingers to her lips quickly as if to hide the weakness. “Oh, you know, just always trying to outrun my stupid past.”

  “How?”

  “You know I didn’t stop grifting after that night.”

  He nodded and she looked away. “It was harder for me to get out than it was for Elle.”

  Bullshit. But he said nothing.

  “I was all on my own,” she said.

  Elle too, he thought, but again he held his tongue.

  “I kept cutting things too close.”

  “You actually did cut things too close,” he said. “Twice.”

  She met his gaze. “You know?”

  “That you went to jail five years ago and again two years later?” he asked. “Yes.”

  She stared at him. “I know it’s hard to believe but I really have gotten my life together. I’m sober. I’m taking some general ed classes, working toward my AA degree. I told you my current living situation and I’m cleaning houses for cash.”

  “But?” he asked.

  “But I want something different, something on the books and legit.” She laughed shortly with little amusement. “I know this sounds ridiculous given who I’ve been, but I want to pay taxes. I want to save money to get my own apartment. But no one’s going to hire an ex-felon. I need a fair shot, and I won’t blow it. Not ever again.” She looked at him, eyes defensive and a little defiant, like she expected him to laugh at her.

  “You mean it?” he asked.

  “I’ve never meant anything more.”

  “So what is it you need?”

  “A job reference, for starters,” she said. “The coffee shop downstairs has a sign in the window that says they’re looking for a part-time barista for the early morning shift. There’s also a sign in the pub for a waitress.”

  No way in hell would he blindly trust her at one of his friends’ places of business but he’d figure something out for her. If she really meant it. “And that’s all you want from me, a job reference?”

  She looked away. “And a co-signer on a lease for that apartment, when I find it.”

  “And . . . ?” he asked. “Lay it all out, Morgan.”

  She gave a brief smile. “Upfront and brutally honest as ever, I see.”

  “Always,” he said.

  She looked at him again, right in the eyes. “I don’t want anyone from my past to be able to find me. I know you have ways to make people invisible.”

  “You want to be invisible?”

  “I want to be safe,” she said. “I want a fresh start. I want to be able to get those things for myself but apparently I’m unable to do that.” She looked very unhappy. “I need help, Archer. I don’t want to but I do.”

  He took a deep breath. “Everyone needs help sometimes. There’s no shame in that.”

  Some hope came into her eyes. “Does that mean you’ll do it? You’ll help me?”

  He’d never been able to turn away from a Wheaton, trouble or not, and he doubted he was going to start now. “I’m not going to keep this from Elle.”

  She arched a brow. “Interesting.”

  Yeah. Or terrifying.

  Elle sat on the counter of Willa’s shop, sipping her morning tea. The pet store was always fun and an adventure. Today there was a huge Siamese cat snoozing near the cash register, a cockatoo perched on a stack of bird feed, and Vinnie the teeny pup sprawled in the sole sunspot near the door, his manly bits on display to the world as he snored away.

  Elle, Willa, Pru, and Kylie were eating muffins from Tina’s coffee shop. Once upon a time Tina had been Tim. Tim had made good muffins but Tina was happier than Tim had ever been, and that happiness had spread to her muffins. People came from far and wide for her muffins, which as far as Elle was concerned were the best on the planet.

  Elle chowed down on a mini blueberry muffin while listening to Pru and Willa argue over the last lemon muffin in the bag.

  “I only had two,” Pru said.

  “I only had two too,” Willa said.

  “Me too on the two,” Kylie said.

  “But there were ten in the bag,” Pru said and added that up on her fingers. “Where’re the other three?”

  They all turned and looked at Elle. She unapologetically popped in the last bite of her third muffin. “Hey, there is the quick and then there’s the hungry,” she said, getting down from the counter. “I’ve got to get back to work.”

  Willa held out a hand to stop her. “Not so fast, missy. You’ve been lying low all week. We haven’t seen or heard a peep from you.”

  “It’s been a busy one.”

  “Uh-huh,” Willa said. “We’d sure love hear about your interesting date last weekend.”

  Elle didn’t let her expression change because, much as she loved her friends, she didn’t intend to discuss what had happened between her and Archer.

  Not when she didn’t have a handle on it herself.

  Although you had quite a handle on him . . . And at that thought, images flooded her mind. Her on her knees. Archer wrapped around her like a glove, enclosing her in the heat and strength of his body. His hands holding her right where he wanted her, his fingers doing wicked things, his mouth at her ear urging her on.

  Just thinking about it had her breath quickening. Other reactions happened too, nothing that should be happening in public under the razor-sharp scrutiny of her friends who could spot a lie or misdirect a mile away. But mostly she remembered the stay the hell away from me that she’d uttered. The last words she’d spoken to him. “You heard wrong,” she said. “That wasn’t a date between Archer and me, it was . . .”

  Hell. A booty call. Exactly what she’d promised she wouldn’t be to him. But whatever, mistakes had been made and orgasms had happened. It was all just a singular momentary setback from her Archer-embargo.

  Pru went brows up. “Archer? I was talking about Caleb. But do tell about Archer.”

  Well crap. “He and I had a few things to discuss, is all. Business things. So we took it to my office. The end.”

  Willa grinned. “I once jumped Keane’s bones in my office while all of you sat right here, and I too used the excuse of”—she used air quotes—“‘things to discuss.’”

  Pru went wide-eyed. “Wait,” she said to Elle. “So you and Archer discussed things? Wow. We all knew it was only a matter of time before the tension between you two exploded but I thought we’d all hear the nuclear reaction, or at least smell the smoke.”

  “Ha-ha,” Elle said, and then she blinked. “Wait. What do you mean you all knew it was only a matter of time?”

  Everyone was suddenly very busy stirring her coffee or crumpling her napkin or anything other than answering that question.

  “Hello?” Elle asked but then Spence walked in and distracted everyone. Elle hadn’t had a chance to confront him about Archer getting him to hire her. She wasn’t sure she was ready to have that conversation.

  He had a large brown bag that smelled like more of Tina’s muffins and the conversation was momentarily put on hold while they practically jumped him.

  “Back off,” he said, lifting the brown bag above all of their heads. “Mine.”

  “Gimme,” Willa said.

  He put a large hand on her head and held her off. “Get a hold of yourself, woman.”

  “But they smell good!”

  “Then go get your own,” he said.

  “Did you know that Archer and Elle did the deed?” she asked, still eyeing his bag.

  Archer was a stone when he wanted to be, giving little of himself away, but Spence . . . Spence was a mile-high, mile-long brick wall. A fortress. B
ut at this question, he did a comical neck twist and stared at Elle.

  Be calm, be calm . . . She sipped her tea to give herself a minute. But she clearly didn’t pull off the calm because Spence tossed his head back and laughed.

  Elle crossed her arms. “You’re an ass.”

  “Yes.” He was still grinning. “But come on, it’s been a long time coming.”

  “That’s what we said!” Pru exclaimed.

  Spence was still smiling at Elle, fully enjoying her discomfort. “So what do we know?” he asked the girls. “Facts only.”

  They started talking at once and he held up a hand. They all promptly zipped it on command. Then he pointed at Willa.

  “They were seen arguing,” Willa said. “In the courtyard. And then they moved to the alley.”

  Elle stared at her. “How did you—”

  Spence pointed at Pru, who continued where Willa left off by saying with glee, “They reportedly shoved each other up against the wall and went at each other.”

  “That’s not fact,” Spence chided. “That’s speculation.”

  “Okay, true,” Pru allowed. “But they definitely moved to the alley.”

  “Oh!” Willa said. “And they broke her love seat! Luis dragged it to the Dumpster this morning.”

  Elle felt her face flame.

  “Hmm,” Spence said, stroking his chin, smiling at her. As their resident genius, nothing much got by him. Granted, he’d been adrift since selling his start-up last year, not yet having found his thing, but he was still present. As far as she knew, not one of them except herself—and undoubtedly Archer—knew Spence had bought this building. But sometimes he was too smart for his own good and she didn’t want to deal with his opinion of her and Archer because it didn’t matter. She and Archer weren’t a thing. Yes, they’d had a thing, a very momentary thing, but that was over now. Completely. One hundred percent.

  At least, she was pretty sure that’s what she’d meant by stay the hell away from me. And anyway, he had. He’d vanished. And on that depressing thought, she headed to the door. “I’m out.”

  “See,” Willa said excitedly. “It must be true, she’s leaving.”

  “Leaving won’t stop us from talking about you!” Pru called after her.

  Elle responded with a single finger gesture that had them all cracking up again. She pushed open the door to the courtyard, and as was her habit, which she never admitted to, her gaze automatically slid up to the second-floor walkway to Hunt Investigations.

  Someone was coming out of Archer’s offices and she stilled because it wasn’t Archer.

  Nope, it was worse. It was her sister.

  Chapter 13

  #OneOfTheseThingsIsNotLikeTheOther

  Frozen in place by shock, Elle watched Morgan vanish into the elevator. What the hell? She found herself moving across the courtyard and got to the elevator just as it opened.

  Morgan stepped out and then did a double take at the sight of Elle standing there.

  Elle gave a short laugh. “See, now I know why I’m surprised to see you. But I have no idea why you’re surprised to see me since I work here.”

  Morgan recovered quickly. “Look at that, you can string together more words than no and goodbye. Good to know.”

  “Just tell me why you’re here, Morgan.”

  Her sister settled her purse strap higher on her shoulder. “Because you’re so sure that I’m up to something, right?”

  There was actually more than a little hurt in Morgan’s tone and it gave Elle pause. Morgan didn’t do vulnerabilities. Morgan didn’t do weaknesses.

  Morgan didn’t do family.

  So why then was her sister suddenly breathing a little too fast? Why were her eyes so suspiciously shiny, like she was on the very edge of a breakdown? Elle took a deep breath for calm. “Just talk to me.”

  Morgan arched a brow. “You sure you don’t just want to slam your door on my nose again first?”

  “I’ll decide after you tell me what you were doing in Archer’s office.”

  At this, Morgan smiled. “Jealous?”

  “Okay, forget it,” Elle said and she spun on her heel to walk off.

  “Dammit, Elle, wait. Look, I’m a bitch when I’m up against the wall, and . . . well, I’m sorry, okay?”

  Elle turned back. “You’re in trouble?”

  Morgan blew out a breath. “Not like you’re thinking.”

  Elle walked back to her. “Keep talking.”

  “I’m sober,” Morgan said. “I’m going to school. I’m working on getting and keeping my shit together. I’m looking for a job and my own place, and I need references.”

  “Been there, done that,” Elle said. “When we left Mom, remember? We lied about my age so I could sign the lease. Same with the credit cards we got to keep us going, the ones we put in my name to build and establish credit since you’d already trashed yours. And then you bailed on me. I was sixteen and alone and you up and vanished, leaving me holding the bag for twelve thousand dollars of debt that you’d racked up. And then you showed up two years later and we did a wash and repeat. And okay, that time was on me. Fool me once and all that. I was stupid for trusting you again.”

  Morgan closed her eyes and when she opened them, there were tears of regret. “What do you want from me, Elle? I’d say I’m sorry for every shitty thing I’ve done but we’d be here all day, and in the end I’m not sure you’d believe me anyway.” She paused and sighed. “But I am, you know. Sorry. I was such a shit and I hate that and I wish I could take it all back, I really do.”

  “Just tell me what you really want.”

  Morgan made a low sound of frustration. “Is it so hard to believe I might have really changed this time? Have you lived your own life so perfectly that you can really look down your nose on me? You don’t have anything you’re ashamed of?”

  Of course she hadn’t lived her life perfectly. She’d made more mistakes than she cared to admit. But as for being ashamed of anything . . . No. She couldn’t say she was.

  Except for maybe this—she wasn’t willing to believe that Morgan had changed her stripes. She couldn’t, because if she did, then she also had to admit she gave up on a sibling when she shouldn’t have.

  “Look,” Morgan said quietly. “I can tell you one thing I didn’t come here to do, and that’s fight with you.”

  “Why were you at Archer’s?”

  “Because you shut me out and I need help.”

  Guilt niggled at her. But so did anger. “You shouldn’t have gone to him. We’ve cost him enough.”

  “Maybe,” Morgan said. “But go figure—the big, tough, hard badass has quite the heart beneath that broad, sexy chest of his.”

  When Morgan had walked out of the courtyard, through the wrought-iron gate, and vanished onto the street, Elle tried to talk herself off the ledge. She was going to go upstairs and bury herself in work until all murderous urges faded. She even passed the elevator, deciding that taking the stairs might expel some of her temper.

  But nope. At the top of the stairs, she was breathing heavily and her toes hurt . . . but she was still mad as hell. Enough to forget her Archer embargo and head into his office instead of her