She had fought too long to allow Clint to take this from her, though. This was different from the parties he had dragged her away from and the boyfriends he had frightened off. This was her life, and if he didn’t want to share it with her, then he could step aside and let her live it in peace.
Even if it meant she had to eventually leave Atlanta herself.
“Good night, Clint,” she finally whispered, pressing her lips to her fingers before placing them against the glass once again.
Then with a self-mocking little snort she moved from the window, shed the robe she had donned, and climbed into her empty, lonely bed.
Chapter 6
“Why am I so not surprised to see you here?” Morganna muttered as she followed the scent of freshly ground and brewed coffee from her bedroom to the kitchen.
There were few people capable of making decent coffee. Clint was one of the best.
He was sitting at her kitchen table reading the newspaper. Dressed to kill in well-worn jeans and a white shirt that begged her to unbutton it and strip it off his wide shoulders. If she weren’t so damned mad at him, then she would have tried.
Her one concession to modesty herself was the loose light cotton pajama bottoms with Kiss This written across the rear and a rosy pink camisole top that left a swath of creamy bare skin from just above her belly button to the band of her pj’s that lay below her hips.
“I brought donuts. They’re probably still warm.” His voice was soft, almost conciliatory, as he laid the paper down and picked up his own steaming cup of coffee.
“Cream-filled?”
“Would I bother with anything else?” Amusement laced his voice.
Okay, so her habit was pretty well-known. Krispy Kreme cream-filled glazed. She opened the box and inhaled as a shiver of pleasure washed over her. Forget sex with grouch-ass. She would drown her sorrows in fluffy cream filling and melt-in-your-mouth sweet perfection.
“Why are you here?” She shuffled over to the coffeepot and picked up the waiting cup.
She heard his sigh behind her. She didn’t trust Clint when he was being nice. Which said something about their non-relationship.
It sucked.
“I promised Reno I’d look after you while he was gone.” Clint cleared his throat with uncharacteristic nervousness.
She restrained the urge to throw the cup of coffee at him.
“I’ll lie for you and tell him what a great job you did when he gets home.” And in the meantime she would figure out how to heal the lacerations he was inflicting on her heart.
“Morganna . . .”
She turned, watching as he wiped his hand over his face, his expression somber as he lifted his eyes to her. Not just somber, his blue eyes were dark with emotion, with a rare tenderness that never failed to clench her heart.
God, she loved him. And at times it just seemed so hopeless.
“Look, I just want to talk sensibly. Can we do that? Just once?” he asked.
“I always talk sensibly, Clint. You can just never get past the fact that while I’m doing so, I’m making you hard,” she pointed out sadly. “That’s not my fault.”
He lowered his head, rubbing fiercely between his eyes as he grimaced.
“I’m trying here, Morganna. Can’t you?” The irritation faded from his expression as he stared back at her sincerely. “Just for a few minutes?”
“Have you changed your mind about working with me?” That betrayal was the worst he had dealt her so far.
“I can’t do that.” Regret filled his voice.
She breathed in roughly, fighting past the pain that rose in her chest, thickened her throat.
“Then we don’t have anything to talk about,” she told him evenly. “You wasted your time this morning, Clint. The donuts were a nice try, though.”
She moved to the box of donuts, lifting the lid and removing one as she glanced back at him. He was watching her silently, calculating.
Damn him, he knew how she felt, knew how weak she was toward him. Surely he wouldn’t try to use that against her now?
She knew Clint, to the bottom of her soul. What he couldn’t get yelling at her he would try to “reason” her into. Sadly, his male reasoning sucked, which meant she wasn’t in any danger of agreeing with him. He hadn’t tried sexual coercion. Yet.
Moving back to her coffee, she leaned against the counter, crossed her ankles, and bit into the near-orgasmically delightful confection. His eyes followed every move.
“You’re not going to even try to understand, are you?” he asked quietly.
“That you’re being unreasonable?” She licked the thick, fluffy cream from her lip with a flick of her tongue. “I understand that completely, Clint. I actually expect it from you.”
A frown marred his brow. “What the hell does that mean?”
“It means that since the moment you caught me wearing makeup and dressing like a girl instead of a tomboy, you’ve resented me. You see me as a pretty, worthless party girl without a brain in her little head. Unfortunately, I’m not willing to play into your image of that forever. I’ve actually grown quite sick of it.”
Morganna picked up her coffee, sipping at the hot brew as she watched his expression closely.
“That’s not true.”
“Of course it’s true.” She smiled gently, inhaling a ragged breath. “You think I’m just like your mother. Unable to settle down or care for her children while her husband is off fighting wars.”
There. It was out in the open. Morganna steeled herself against the hard expression that came over his face, the ice in his eyes. God, she hated it when he looked at her like that.
“This has nothing to do with her.”
“Of course it does. It always has.” She shrugged, fighting back the tears, the pain. “Do you think I haven’t realized what the problem was all along, Clint? You believe I’ll screw around on you while you’re gone, simply because I wear makeup and like to dance. Because she did. As far as you’re concerned, I have no more honor than she did.”
“You’re reaching, Morganna.” He shook his head.
“Am I?” Her smile was forced, as was the calm edge of her voice. “I don’t know, Clint. The evidence is pretty overwhelming from where I sit. We were getting along fine when I was a little tomboy chasing after you. Once I started wearing makeup and having a life outside you, you hated me.”