Page 36 of Under Her

And I won’t deny that I’m thrilled at the prospect of having to work closely with Morgan on this over the next few days—maybe even the weekend, if I’m lucky.

What the hell? I’m actually wishing to miss out on my weekend fucks, so I can spend time working with Morgan.

Can the real Wilder Cross please stand up?

The only thing I can think is that my cock is in definite lust with her. That, or she’s done some kind of voodoo to him.

That’s the only explanation I have right now as to why I’ve turned into a Morgan-obsessed idiot.

We all leave the restaurant together. My parents have a car waiting. I’ll hitch a ride with them. My condo is on Lake Shore, which is on the way to my parents’ house on Gold Coast. They still live in the same house that I grew up in.

“Thanks for dinner,” Morgan says to my mom and dad.

Mom kisses her on the cheek. “See you soon,” Mom says to her, climbing in the car.

“I’m looking forward to seeing that proposal,” my dad says to her. “You want a ride?” Dad asks me, climbing in next to my mom.

“Yeah, I’ll just grab Morgan a cab.”

“Oh, no need. I’m going to walk. I only live on Lincoln.” She thumbs over her shoulder.

“I thought you got a cab here?” I say stupidly.

She smiles. “I came from the office. I was working late.”

“Okay. Well, I’ll walk you home.”

“You don’t need to. It’s not far.”

“I don’t give a shit if it’s five steps away. I’m walking you,” I firmly tell her. “I’m walking Morgan home,” I tell my parents, leaning into the car. “I’ll talk to you later.”

I shut the car door.

I turn to Morgan as my parents’ car pulls away into traffic.

“You really don’t have to walk me home,” she says to me.

“I’m not letting you walk the streets of Chicago alone at night.”

“It’s not that late.”

“Mmhmm. Okay. So, you think murderers don’t start work until it’s super late?”

“I actually didn’t know that murdering was a profession.” She gives me a dry look.

“You’re hilarious. And I’m serious, Morgan. You shouldn’t be walking around the city on your own at night.”

When I look at her, a smile is tugging at her lips, and she’s shaking her head at me.

“What?”

“I just didn’t realize that you had such strong feelings about women walking Chicago’s streets alone.”

“I don’t. I just care about you walking these streets alone.”

Something flashes across her face. It’s not happiness at my words. If anything, she looks annoyed, but it’s gone too quickly for me to know for sure.

She stares ahead, wrapping her arms over her chest.