Morgan stilled. Just his name spilling through her mind caused her body to light up, readying her for his touch. His kiss. His smart-ass remarks and his intriguing possessiveness and the way he never allowed her to hide either her body or her mind from him. He was a demanding lover, yet instead of pulling away and craving distance, she was doing the opposite.

Getting closer. Falling harder. Losing more of herself.

She shivered in the blistering heat. It didn’t have to be complicated. In fact, Cal had made it easy for her. They averaged four nights per week together, and he treated her no differently at work. Of course, the moment she arrived at his place he ravished her completely, allowing her to dress only so they could share dinner. Occasionally Tristan and Dalton stopped in for a quick bite, and Morgan enjoyed their clever banter, finding herself drawn to the pull of a sibling bond they still struggled with. It was obvious they loved each other, but the iron-fisted way Cal ran Pierce Brothers was tearing them apart. Morgan squirmed but tried to be neutral, holding back from explaining to Cal how he was alienating them.

A smile curved her lips. It was wonderful to be able to share her workday and passion for building with him. Her initial fears that they wouldn’t be able to have both drifted away in the heat of his arms and the joy of his presence. But each day was like a ticking time bomb, moving her closer to the only ending they had.

When the job was completed, she would leave. And she’d never see him again.

Morgan laid her hand flat on her belly. Raw longing licked at her nerve endings. For the first time in her life, she was beginning to want more. But she didn’t want to think of the future or what would happen right now. She intended to take every second with Caleb Pierce and wring it dry. Instead of holding back, Morgan decided to surrender to the relationship and see where it led them both. Her cards had been dealt, and it was up to her how she played them.

With a deep breath, Morgan finished her walk-through, taking in the energy of the house and its future occupants, making mental notes of finishes and details that would create a stunning debut and keep her at the top of her game.

Then she went home to Cal.

“We’re going out.”

He didn’t let her respond, pulling her hard into his embrace and kissing her senseless. The dogs whined, waiting for their turn, but they already knew their master had first dibs. The spicy, masculine scent of him always had her ready for him. How had she become such a slut? In a good way. A delicious, naughty way. He made her hot and ready with just a blistering look. Or a dirty command. He refused to let her hide from her sexuality, and for the first time in her life, Morgan reveled in her feminine power, in her curves and her ability to bring this powerful man to his knees just by taking off her clothes.

He eased away, nipped at her bottom lip, then licked away the sting. She tried to remember what he said. “What?”

He gave her a smug grin. “We’re going out. How about My Place?”

She shuddered with the memory of her call girl arrest. “No, thanks. I’m happy never to go there again.”

“Understood. Let’s do Italian. We’ll hit Cena. Sound good?”

“Pasta sounds heavenly.” She broke from his embrace and knelt down. “Come get me, guys!”

Balin and Gandalf attacked, pushing her off balance and licking her madly. Pure love shot through her for the canine goofballs she’d become so attached to. After a lovefest, they headed to the small Italian café, which boasted homemade ravioli and had a wait list every day of the week. Of course, Cal led her right in, the owners immediately recognizing such a valued customer and setting them up toward the back in a cozy booth. He ordered a Chardonnay for her and a Peroni for him, then attacked the bread basket with gusto. “How did the walk-through go? Dalton seems to have things under control for once, and we’re on target. Catch any issues?”

She battled and lost the war with carbohydrates. Swiping the crusty Italian bread in olive oil, she moaned in delight. “No, things are tight. Once the cabinetry is installed, we can get started on the finishes. The mahogany crown molding will look amazing in the library, and the doors will need staining. We’re still ready to hit our completion date.” She ducked her head, not wanting to think about when their time would be done. Each night spent in his bed made leaving it that much more agonizing. She shook off the thought and refocused. “How are you getting along with Dalton?”

He shrugged. “Same. He fixed the problem with Ashley, but he’s not really talking to me. He thinks I’m being a bully.”

She shifted in her seat and kept her voice light. “Are you?”

“I’m responsible for the business. If he goes in the wrong direction, I have to pull him back.”

“Maybe not. Maybe he needs to do exactly what he wants and is good at. Did you ever think you’ve never given him a true chance?”

A frown creased his brow. His gray eyes flickered with impatience. “Why are you defending Dalton? Yes, he’s a genius at woodworking, but he needs constant supervision.”

Morgan sighed. “I’m defending Dalton because I think he’s fully capable of handling his share and more. You yank things away from him before he can try. You do the same thing with Tristan.”

“Tristan is obsessed with flipping property. We need to build houses, not buy them. We have no time for real estate. I don’t know why my brothers insist on playing around with our future.”

Why did there seem to be more to the story? When she watched the brothers intermingle, there was a sense of loss that beat through each of their encounters. As if they were desperately trying to find their way back to each other but were blocked. She bet it was even harder to transcend the past without parents to hold them together. Morgan knew the brothers had a painful history, but she ached to help them all find their way back to each other.