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"Yes ma'am."
"And you know I can't just look the other way."
"No, ma'am."
"Good luck in your future endeavors, Mr. Lang. You'll get your severance in the mail, and I'd like your office cleaned out by the end of the day."
He looks like he wants to say something, a little glowing ember of something that might be anger. Then he snuffs it out.
"Yes ma'am."
"Go on," she says, nodding towards the door. He stands up and sulks out.
For a minute she's almost sad that she doesn't feel any special satisfaction at seeing him go. He'd been a good employee for her father. It was rare to see a man that young in the position he was in.
At least, that was true in Lowe Industrial. Most of the higher-ups were old hands, people who had been working for her father since they were her age and had practically built the place from the ground up with their own two hands.
The office door opens and Lang steps out, slipping sideways through the door. For a minute, Morgan's almost confused, until she sees him slipping in at the same time.
"What are you doing here?" She shouldn't sound like such a bitch, not right now. Not with him.
"I came to see you."
She takes a deep breath and tries to calm down. Tries to stop her stomach from twisting up and her skin from jumping immediately to over-sensitivity.
"How's the ranch?"
Phil Callahan looks the same as he always has. Jeans and a t-shirt and all of it looks like he just finished a wrestling match in it.
"New. Different. The boys are patching her up."
"Yeah?"
"Sure." The silence between them is long. Part of her wants to apologize. Part of her wants to seem like she's not some needy little woman who can't bear to be disliked, though, and that part keeps her lips shut. "You know, about that tour. This place seems a little more complete than the last one I was inside of."
She can't bring herself to smile at the joke. "You didn't have to do this, you know."
He steps inside further, closes the door behind him. It seems like it's only another step or two until he's right there, in her space. Until he's standing over her, looking down at her.
She should feel small, she should hate it. She should feel so many things, and she doesn't feel any of that. Her head leans forward in a moment of weakness and her head presses into his chest. It feels good.
His arms wrap around her shoulders and squeeze tight. That feels good, too. "But I wanted to anyways."
She can't do this, but she can't say no again.
"I'm sorry," she says. She's supposed to be strong. She's supposed to be so tough nobody can say a damn thing about her. Her voice sounds weak and afraid and it's not half as bad as she feels.
"You don't have to apologize. Just don't run away again."
Her eyes feel hot, but her arms wrap around his thick chest. "No," she agrees.
She can't hurt like that again.
"I love you."
"I love you, too."
Cowboy’s Bride
