Troublemaker - Lisa B. Kamps Page 0,3

but she was so upset and—"

"Not as upset as you're going to be when you get home and find out your place has been wiped clean."

"No, I don't think so. I didn't get that kind of vibe from her."

Tristan slid his chair out of kicking distance from Jacqui then sneered. "Probably because you weren't thinking with your big head."

"It wasn't like that. I mean, hello? Today was supposed to be her wedding day. That's not exactly a turn-on."

"Seriously? If she really was a jilted bride, I'd be all over comforting and reassuring her. As long as she was hot. She was hot, right? I mean, why else ignore all common sense by leaving her alone at your place?"

I didn't bother to answer Luke's question about Morgan's looks. Yes, she was definitely attractive, with dark reddish-brown hair and vibrant green eyes. But that wasn't why I let her stay—

I let her stay because I felt sorry for her.

Well shit. Maybe the guys were right. Maybe I had totally been played and would return home to an empty apartment. Had I let misplaced sympathy override common sense?

Probably.

I took another long swallow of beer then ran one hand through my hair before defending Morgan. No idea why I felt like I needed to, I just did. "She's not a jilted bride. She left him."

"So she's already in the habit of running out. Yeah, you definitely need your fu—" Tristan shot a wary glance at Jacqui, cleared his throat, then looked back at me. "You need your head examined."

Jacqui brushed Tristan off with a wave of one large hand before leaning across the table. "What does this runaway bride of yours look like, cher?"

"She's not my—"

"Semantics. What does she look like?"

I studied Jacqui for a long minute, trying to decide if I should answer her or not. Jacqui ran a clothing boutique in the Quarter and seemed to know everyone and everything. Maybe she knew who Morgan was. If that was the case, then maybe she'd be able to get the guys off my back.

"She's about this tall—" I held one hand near my shoulder. "Dark red hair. Green eyes. Kind of cute, I guess—"

"I knew it!"

I leveled a warning frown at Tristan then turned back to Jacqui. "Her name is Morgan. I don't think she's from around here. Do you know her?"

"Not her, no. But I heard something earlier about a wedding being called off at the last minute because the bride got nervous feet."

"She didn't really strike me as the nervous kind."

"Hmm. Maybe not. But if it's the same runaway bride, you may want to head home, cher."

The bottom of my stomach dropped open to let in a cold wave of doom. "Why? Is she really going to clean out my place?"

"I don't think it's her you need to worry about."

"What do you mean?"

"If she's the same runaway bride, they're probably looking for her."

"They, who?"

"The groom and his family. From what I understand, they don't take kindly to losing their possessions."

Well shit.

Chapter Three

Morgan

I was in so much trouble.

So. Much. Trouble.

I paced around the room, barely registering the furniture I stepped around. Sofa. Recliner. Coffee table. Huge television mounted on the white-washed brick wall.

Just normal, everyday furniture in a normal, everyday apartment.

Except this wasn't Cassie's apartment, it was some stranger's. What the hell was his name? I paused in my pacing, squeezed my eyes shut, and mentally thumbed through my memory banks.

Dylan. His name was Dylan.

Kind of cute but not very bright. I mean, what sane person would leave a total stranger alone in their apartment?

One that's a little too trusting.

I ignored the words in my head and looked over at the bed across the room. The apartment had a weird layout, with angled walls and a completely open floor plan. The bedroom itself—if you could call it that—was a large alcove off the living room separated by absolutely nothing. No walls. No doors. Not even a privacy curtain or screen of some kind.

I should have realized Cassie wasn't living here when I first walked in. There were no feminine touches at all in the apartment. No plants. No flowers. Not a pink ruffle in sight.

In my defense, I wasn't really paying that much attention when I got here. I was just glad to get away from yet one more mistake in a long line of mistakes. I'd grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator, drained it, then climbed the five steps to the main living area and collapsed onto the bed.