High-Caliber Holiday by Susan Sleeman Page A

here?”
    â€œFour years.”
    â€œSo you haven’t been here long. Think you’ll stay?” she asked, hating to admit she was very invested in hearing him say yes.
    He shrugged. “Depends on my mother back in Minnesota. She’s getting older, and it’ll be hard to get her to move out here.” He huffed a laugh. “Unless there are grandchildren involved and that’s not happening any time soon.”
    No children?
Her heart suddenly ached and she needed more details. “You don’t want to get married and have kids?”
    â€œSure, but I’m not in a position to even consider that.” He looked like he wanted to say something more, but started lining up the salt, pepper and sugar containers instead.
    â€œRight now,” he said, keeping his gaze on his hands, “I send most of my pay to Mom, and that doesn’t leave much for a guy to support a family.”
    He sounded so defensive, but Morgan had no idea why. She hadn’t known him long, but she did know he was an honorable man. Even more honorable if he was supporting his mother. If he didn’t have much money, it surely didn’t mean he was less of a man.
    Unless, of course, he was like her dad, whose self-worth was tied up in his income and status. Maybe Brady was like that. She wouldn’t be surprised. A lot of men felt that way.
    â€œWhat about you?” he asked, still not looking up. “Since you were engaged, I gotta assume you’re planning to settle down someday.”
    â€œMaybe someday,” she answered vaguely and took a bite of her salmon.
    He looked up. Met her gaze. Transmitted an unspoken question about her evasive answer.
    His plea didn’t move her to speak. She liked him. He seemed to feel the same way, and she could honestly admit she’d like to get to know him better. But even if she wasn’t trying to get her own life under control instead of starting a new relationship, they couldn’t afford to let emotions distract them. They had a stalker to find.

EIGHT
    B rady turned in the awful tie and jacket and stepped outside with Morgan. He handed his parking ticket to the valet and couldn’t wait to get out of here. He’d told Morgan the truth. He owned a suit and tie. He just didn’t mention that the only time he’d worn it in the last few years was to Skyler and Logan’s wedding, and only then because the entire team made up the wedding party.
    The valet pulled up in Brady’s rusted-out pickup. He smirked as he gestured for Brady to take charge of the vehicle. Brady ignored the guy’s attitude and handed him a generous tip. Brady opened the door for Morgan, who either didn’t notice the valet or was good at hiding what she witnessed. Brady suspected she was embarrassed to arrive in his battered truck when top-dollar cars surrounded them and filled the lot. Honestly, he was embarrassed, too. He was thirty-one years old, for crying out loud. He should have his act together and have a decent vehicle by now.
    Patience
, he reminded himself as he fired up the truck and took off. Two more years of college and he’d have his degree. Then he’d be able to drive Morgan around in style. Ha! Like he’d be in her life in two years.
    He pointed the truck toward the firehouse where he’d grab workout clothes for a visit to Morgan’s gym. At least he’d be more comfortable there than in her fancy club.
    She was an enigma. She was so natural and in her element working with her clients. Then she took him to her exclusive club, and there, too, she fit right in.
    Which woman was she, anyway? And how was a guy to know?
    He glanced at her, surprised to see her massaging her forehead. “Headache?”
    â€œA little one.”
    Concern for her sent his frustration packing. “Maybe we shouldn’t go to the gym.”
    She shook her head. “It’s just stress. Exercise might help.”
    They continued