Heart of Glass (Fostering Love 3)

“I can help.”

“Nope,” she said, huffing in annoyance. “Absolutely not.”

“Why not?”

“Because I take care of my own ship,” she said. It took me a minute to remember that “ship” was her word for shit. “This really isn’t a crisis, Trevor. It’s just a frustration.”

“Well, what about the move?” I asked, picturing her driving a truck with Etta riding shotgun. “Do you need help with driving or any of that?”

“Hell no,” she said, and somehow I knew she was smiling. “I’ve got Etta’s babysitter Carmen and her man coming over to help pack us up, and I can drive a moving truck like a boss.”

“You seem very proud of that.”

“Heck yes, I am,” she said with a small laugh. “It’s a good life skill to have. I can also change a tire, check and change the oil in my car, and shoot a pistol and a rifle.”

“Well, look at you,” I replied, grinning. My body relaxed as I realized that whatever had been going on with Morgan didn’t really have anything to do with me. She was back to the same funny, easygoing woman I’d met, and she wasn’t talking to me like she couldn’t wait to get off the phone. She was…chatting. Like we were friends. It was a complete 180-degree change from the text responses I’d been getting.

I didn’t take the time to question why she ran so hot and cold. I probably should have.

“So, yeah. My landlord is being super cool about all of it, so if I move out before the end of the month I don’t have to pay next month’s rent,” she said. “Me and Etta are packing like crazy.”

“Damn, you only have a few days,” I replied. “You sure you don’t need any help?” If I helped her move I’d know exactly where she was headed. It wasn’t as if I could ask for her dad’s address without sounding like a stalker.

“Nope, we’re all set. Most of the stuff in this house isn’t ours, so I’m just packing up the bedroom and bathroom, really. Piece of cake.” I wasn’t sure what she was doing, but she sounded a little out of breath.

“I should probably let you get back to it,” I said reluctantly, glancing at the front door of my parents’ house. “Let me know how the move goes.”

“I will,” she replied.

We hung up, and I stood outside for a few minutes more. Damn, I liked her. Part of me knew that it was a good thing, but another part of me, the more realistic part, knew that I was sliding quickly into forbidden territory. I really liked her. More than I should have.

Beyond the fact that she was fucking gorgeous, because I’d been with gorgeous women before, she just—seemed to fit me, which was not something I should even be thinking about. It was just so easy to talk to her, even when I was nervous. I liked hearing about what she was doing and I liked listening to her talk to Etta. Hell, I even liked the way she moved, all efficient and quick.

And I was thrilled as hell that she was moving closer to me, even though she was still an entire day’s drive away.

I needed to get my head on straight. Quick. Even thinking about Morgan made my stomach flip in a mixture of lust and guilt. So much fucking guilt.

“Everything okay?” my dad asked, stepping out the front door. I knew my mom had sent him to investigate, but I couldn’t even be mad about it.

“Yeah.” I nodded and scratched at my beard. It needed a trim. “Morgan and Etta are moving, so I was just calling to get some details.”

“Moving?” he asked, coming farther onto the porch. “She tell you about that before?” I understood the suspicion in his voice. It mirrored my own.

“She lost her job—”

“Well, that’s no good.”

I listened closely for judgment in his tone, but there wasn’t any. Damn, I was on edge. Of course he wasn’t judging her. My dad was one of the most easygoing and accepting people I’d ever met.

“No shit. She and the baby are moving up with her dad for a while, I guess.”

“You know where that is?”

“Sacramento,” I answered, turning to face him as he sat down on one of the rocking chairs that lined the porch. “She’s cool with a visit, but she asked that we wait until they’re settled.”

“Mom’s not gonna be thrilled about that,” he said with a sigh. “She’s been damn near counting the days to a date that hasn’t even been set yet.”

“I know.”

I wasn’t looking forward to telling her she was going to have to wait even longer. She’d been looking at flights since the day I got home and showed her the photos of Etta. I knew she was trying to keep her excitement in check, but it was clear to anyone who knew her how anxious she was.