Free Long Time Gone by Meg Benjamin

of Skeeter and opened the door almost before he had a chance to knock.
    He stood in the doorway, blinking. “Hi.”
    “Hi. Come in.” She stepped back, warding off Skeeter and Fred who approached in tail-wagging frenzy. Arthur planted himself in Erik’s path with a challenging stare.
    Erik stared back. “Is that a bobcat?”
    “No, it’s just Arthur. Ignore him.” Arthur swung his head to give Fred a monitory hiss before stalking off toward the apartment and his food bowl. “Would you like a glass of sauvignon blanc? There’s some left over from the tasting room.” Morgan knew she was babbling, but she couldn’t seem to stop.
    Erik Toleffson turned his molasses gaze her way and smiled.
     
     
    Erik placed his hat on the bar. “Thanks, I’ll pass.”
    Technically, he was still on duty, assuming that the call forward worked on his cell, of course. A new way to get around not having enough people for night duty since it was Peavey’s day off. “I just wanted to check on you. To tell you the truth, I didn’t expect you to be awake.”
    He’d hoped she would be, though. Bingo .
    Morgan walked behind the bar and opened the refrigerator. “Water? Soda? Fruit salad? I’ve got a little of everything.”
    “Soda. Thanks.”
    He watched her reach into the refrigerator. She had on jeans and a white tank top that showed a lot of her chest and did interesting things to his solar plexus. When she turned to set the can down in front of him, he saw the clear outline of her nipples against the white ribbing.
    No bra. His lungs contracted. Down boy!
    “Actually, I slept most of the afternoon.” She pushed a hand through her hair, sending short curls tumbling around her ears.
    The shadowy disks of her nipples peaked against the thin cotton. He wondered if the feeling in his chest was heart palpitations.
    “So now I’m wide awake.” She grinned in his general direction.
    He tried to remember what she was talking about. Oh yeah, sleeping.
    He pulled up a bar stool on the other side of the counter. Better than standing there with his pulse thundering in his ears. “Nice place. How long has it been open?”
    “The winery? Dad started off in a Quonset hut around 1994. He and Ciro finished this building a few years ago.” She looked up at the vaulted ceiling over her head, smiling. “I’ve always liked it.”
    “How long have you lived here?”
    Her smile faded slightly. “I moved in after my dad got hurt. Before that I just came down on weekends. But I needed to be on-site so I could help Ciro.”
    “Does your mom come down to help you out sometimes?”
    Her smile disappeared entirely. “My mom doesn’t like wine.”
    “Must have made for interesting dinner conversation.” He picked up his soda.
    “Oh, it did that.” Her lips stayed flat. “Like I told you, my folks are separated. Not legally, but practically.”
    “Where do they live?”
    “Austin. My mom’s there full-time. My dad was there in a rehab facility, getting his leg back in shape. My mom let him move back in when they released him, so maybe some good came out of the whole wretched mess. Maybe they’ll work out their differences. What about your folks?”
    Erik frowned, not sure what she was asking. “They’re still in Iowa.”
    “Are they thinking of moving down since all of you are here?”
    “They threaten to every once in a while. We might be able to lure them down for the winter, but my mom’s not big on heat.”
    A moment of silence stretched between them. He tried to think of something to fill it. “Remembered anything else about what happened on the hill?”
    She gave him a dry smile. “No. In fact, I’m looking forward to forgetting the whole thing.”
    Not as great a smile as before, but he’d take what he could get. He mentally told his nether regions to cool it. “I’ll try to get back up there tomorrow to see if I can find the tracks you talked about.”
    “Good idea. At least I’ll know I didn’t imagine them.” She