sight of herself in the mirror—took in the glowing pink face, the mouth still swollen from a weekend of Cooper Simon kisses—and smiled. She looked good, but she could look better. If she was going to say good-bye to Nathan, to a past that no longer held sway over her future, she was going to damn well look good doing it.
Exactly thirty-five minutes later, she walked into the kitchen intent on grabbing some granola, berries, and yogurt, but came up short when she spied her father at the kitchen sink. He was rinsing a coffee mug, which in itself wasn’t out of the ordinary, but the man was never out of bed before ten. At least not since Morgan had been back in Fisherman’s Landing.
“You want coffee?” he asked. He didn’t turn around, though he did crank his head to the side.
“No, I…” She cleared her throat and walked to the fridge. “I’m just grabbing some breakfast before I head out.”
“Kind of early to be going out to the McLaren place.”
“I’m not going out there just yet.” She grabbed the yogurt and set it on the counter.
Her father turned around and leaned against the sink. He was dressed in work clothes—clean work clothes—and his pants were pressed down the middle. Sure, he was pale and needed a shave, but his eyes were clearer than they’d been in a good long while. A knot sprang up in her throat, and she had to work a bit to clear it.
“Where you headed, girl?”
There was no use lying. “I'm meeting Nathan for coffee.”
Her father’s gaze narrowed a bit and his lips thinned as he tossed the tea towel onto the counter and set his mug beside it.
“I ran into him at the hardware store. Didn’t have much to say to me. Hell, he couldn’t look me in the eye.”
She gave a half shrug.
“He’s still with Christy.”
Morgan nodded. Not much she could add to that.
Her father was silent for a few moments, his gaze sliding away from hers, his jaw tight. When he spoke, his voice was low and controlled, but she heard the emotion behind the words. He was upset, and it seemed as if he was struggling to find the right words.
“That boy was like a son to me.” He pushed back his cap and ran hands over the whiskers on his chin, a faraway look in his eyes. It lasted all of two seconds and then he cleared his throat. “Why are you bothering with him?”
“It’s just coffee. Nothing more.”
Her father’s head jerked back, and his pale gaze zeroed in on her. “He was never good enough for you, Morgan. You deserved better. He should have been with you for the whole ride. Both of us should have.” His voice was filled with disgust. “Don’t let him off easy.”
That stupid lump came back and clogged her throat. Morgan had to work hard to clear it, and by the time she did, she was breathing too fast and felt dizzy.
Her father grabbed his keys off the counter and moved toward her. For a moment, she thought he was going to touch her—he paused, inches away—and after a few seconds, he tugged at the brim of his cap and nodded toward the back door.
“Hank and I are working on the equipment today. Hoping to expand the grass cutting this spring.”
“Okay,” she managed to whisper, watching him as he walked by and reached for the door.
He opened it a crack. “I was sitting in the dark last night and saw you come in. Been a long time since I saw a smile on your face.” His voice lowered, colored with a rough edge. “It was a nice thing to see.” He slowly cleared his throat. “I meant what I said. Don’t believe any of the bullshit Nathan is going to throw at you. He wants your forgiveness because he failed you. We both did. That’s on us. Not on you.”
Without another word, he yanked on the door and headed outside. Morgan stood as still as a statue, letting the silence of the house roll over her and soothe her fractured nerves.
What the hell had just happened?
Shivering now, stomach decidedly not in the mood for food, Morgan put the yogurt back in the fridge and grabbed her keys. The fresh air was crisp, the sun on her face amazing, and by the time she parked in front of A Charmed Life, she was somewhat in control of her emotions.
Okay. So maybe her hands were shaking