“Just being a gentleman and walking you to the car.”

Her snort was as Southern as she was. Polite, but cutting. Also quite charming. “What’s your real motivation, Charming? Wanna accuse me of flirting with the crew now?”

Cal winced. He’d gone a little mad when he caught her with Dalton. He didn’t want to dig far to find out why, but the sight of their hands wrapped together and the intimate way they bowed their heads close had set him off. A tiny voice inside sprang to life, growled ferociously, and bellowed out one word.

MINE.

Ridiculous, of course. He knew it was wrapped up in the bruises of his past. When he’d walked in to find Dalton kissing his fiancée, her body arched under his like a present she begged him to unwrap, something died within him. Watching Dalton try to put the moves on Morgan just brought up his trigger point. It was the only reasonable explanation, but he still owed her an apology.

“I was out of line.”

“You think?”

She quickened her pace, but he stayed glued to her side. “I know. Dalton and I have some history, and he set me off. I wasn’t trying to disrespect you.”

Morgan suddenly stopped and looked up at him. The curtain of silvery blond hair swung past the gentle curve of her cheek. The streetlight bathed her in a glow that made her seem almost ethereal, with those big baby blues and the aristocratic slope of her nose and those lush, bubble-gum lips. “Apology accepted.”

“That’s it?”

She gave a delicate shrug. “I can accept a meaningful apology when you offer. Besides, I’m used to stress setting people off at the site. But I still think you need to give your brother a break. You can’t do it all, Cal.”

She was right, but he remained silent. He came off as a dickhead sometimes, but it was so easy to just do it himself so he knew things would be right. Maybe he was more like his father than he realized. He shuddered at the thought.

They walked past the brightly lit harbor, watching the boats bob and the sprinkle of moonlight over the glossy surface. Cafés and seafood restaurants stayed open late in the summer months, and residents and tourists poured out of their houses to walk around the marina and enjoy an ice-cream cone or a late-night cocktail.

“It’s beautiful here,” Morgan said. “There’s something elementally sophisticated yet charming about Harrington. I’m also addicted to the lobster.”

Cal grinned. “Yeah, I like living close to the water. My father took us boating regularly when we were young. Winters are a little rough, but it’s also nice when the tourists go home and everyone’s barricaded in their homes. Many of the bars and shops close down. The firehouse becomes a big draw for poker and pasta nights. And it’s not far into Manhattan if you get really desperate for stimulation.”

“I can imagine.”

“The Rosenthals looking to hole up for the whole year here? They’ll have a nice house to hunker down with.”

Morgan’s face said it all. His heart gave a little pang at the waste of building a home for a couple who didn’t want to live there. “I’m sure they’ll make use of it when they can,” she said carefully. “The filming will be extensive, so they’ll have a level of comfort. I can see them hosting big parties and bringing some Hollywood glamour to the town.”

“Glamour or drama?”

She wrinkled her nose. “Probably both. My car is over there.”

He looked to the right, where her convertible was parked in the lot. Then to the left. The second impulse of the evening overtook him and he made the offer. “Wanna see something no one knows about? Follow me.”

Her brow arched. “Is it good?”

“Real good.”

She hesitated, but her curiosity saved him. She followed his lead as he walked down the main dock and cut through the edge of woods. “Watch your step.” The path was overgrown now, but he followed it by memory, letting his instincts guide him as they grew farther away from the main crowd. Darkness closed in on them, and the moonlight guided his way.

“This has creepy written all over it,” she piped up. He held back a branch so she could step around a wild bush. “Why am I disturbed you have something to show me back here where no one can hear you scream?”

He laughed but pushed on. “A little further. Trust me.”

“Said every serial killer on the planet.”

“Here.” Satisfaction rushed through him. It was exactly as he remembered, even though it had been years since he hiked the trail. The harbor spilled into a separate private watering hole, an oasis broken from crowds or boats, with only the thick, shady trees to witness a person’s secrets. “What do you think?”

“It’s beautiful.” She smiled, her gaze sweeping over the short dock leading into the water. “Reminds me of a few places down South. There was an isolated marsh area down by the Ashley River. My girlfriends and I used to sneak out after dinner and meet there when it got dark.”

Cal leaned against a moss-covered oak and crossed his ankles. A wistful expression flickered over Morgan’s face, as if she were reliving the memories of her childhood. “Yeah, my brothers and I would hang here when we wanted some alone time,” he continued. “Sometimes we’d just lie on our backs and watch the stars after a swim. Sometimes we’d sneak in liquor and try to get girls to make out with us.”

Her laugh was infectious. “I bet you did,” she drawled. “Bet you did lots of bad things.”

“Bet you didn’t.”