Free The Right Thing by Donna McDonald Page B

seemed like a logical solution to how to fill the empty seats. “Tea and soda included. Beer is extra.”
    “In case you haven’t noticed, this is not an Italian restaurant. I serve burgers, sandwiches, and fries,” Thea said dryly. “You’ve practically tried the entire menu in a single week of coming here. You should have it memorized by now.”
    Morgan laughed. “I knew you had a sense of humor. That’s good because you’re going to need it. I think you should try offering a dinner special one night next week to see how it goes. What’s stopping you?”
    “I don’t know. Having an Italian pasta chef maybe? I don’t think Pete sees himself stuffing manicotti for a living,” Thea told him. “He likes the grill.”
    “I could do it,” Morgan said, sitting up straighter when she laughed at him. “I took lessons. I’m a fairly good cook.”
    “You cook?” Thea asked, her disbelief evident in her tone. “I’ve seen you eat greasy fries with enough ketchup to drown in, and now you’re telling me you’re a gourmet.”
    “I didn’t say gourmet,” Morgan denied. “I said I could cook. I make damn good spaghetti, and a ziti that my Dad begs me to fix. He’s putting on weight.”
    “You’re pulling my leg,” Thea challenged.
    “No. I am serious,” Morgan told her. “How many would I have to feed?”
    “I don’t know. I guess we could plan for a hundred and be real positive thinkers,” she said, laughing sarcastically.
    “You don’t have to even pay me during the trial,” Morgan said reasonably, his face creased in a sexy grin. “I’ll take it out in trade instead.”
    Thea laughed. “In my thirties, that would have been a good bargain for you. In my fifties, I’m apt to get bored and fall asleep before you get your money’s worth.”
    “I’ll take my chances. I want a down payment tonight, and the rest next Friday after you start selling burgers and sandwiches when the pasta runs out,” Morgan told her. “I have great instincts when it comes to making money. This is going to work.”
    Thea sighed. Morgan’s idea was no worse than anything she’d thought of trying, she supposed. She could always donate the unsold food to the homeless shelter and write it off.
    “Okay. We’ll try your pasta next Friday. What the hell,” Thea said, resigned to spending money on Morgan’s experiment that she couldn’t really afford to burn. At least if the restaurant went under, Thea could say she had tried everything.
    She rose from the booth intending to go check on the other two tables. She’d already sent Amy home because business was so slow.
    “Don’t forget my down payment tonight,” Morgan teased as she began to walk away.
    Laughing, Thea walked back to the booth, stepped up on the edge and reached to kiss Morgan’s cheek. He automatically lifted his hand to her face and she kissed his palm as well.
    It was the sweetest, nicest moment he’d ever experienced with a woman. Morgan suddenly understood his father so much more than he ever imagined he would.
    “Okay,” he said, voice rough with an emotion he didn’t want to analyze. “You drive a hard bargain, Althea. That was the best kiss I’ve ever had. I’ll consider you paid in full tonight.”
    Morgan’s tormented expression made her laugh.
    “One thing you need to know about me, Morgan Reed,” Thea said, her breath a whisper along his jaw. “I pay my debts in full when they’re due. Come home with me and collect the whole amount.”
    “Thea,” Morgan said on sigh as she straightened. “Are you sure?”
    “No,” Thea said honestly, and then laughed at both of them and their flirting. “But if I’m alone I’m just going to cry myself to sleep. I’d rather not do that.”
    “We won’t let that happen,” Morgan promised.
    “Well, don’t set your hopes too high about my decision. I haven’t had sex with a man since I was your age,” Thea told him honestly, “but I hear it’s like riding a bike.”
    “Thea,”