by Katie Meyer
“Wow.” A place to work uninterrupted for hours at a time? “This is perfect.” Thunder crashed again, closer than before, making her jump.
“I think your standards may be too low,” he said with a chuckle, “but it’s dry at least. You’ve got the wi-fi password, and the coffee is in the teacher’s lounge two doors down, so you’ll have plenty of caffeine. If you need anything else, just knock on my door.”
She shook her head, determined not to impose any more than she already had. “You go do principal stuff, and don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine on my own.” She always was. But as he left, closing the door behind him, she wondered if fine was good enough. Because, for the first time, she wasn’t sure it was.
* * *
Luke had never been so glad for a thunderstorm in his life. For weeks now, he’d watched Megan truck across the street to the park bench that had become her personal office. She’d never complained, but even this far into fall, the heat could be brutal. When she came for Lily’s afternoon break, she usually looked flushed and sticky. The one time he’d noticed her rubbing her neck, she’d straightened and mumbled something about it being awkward to type without a real table. His frequent offers to stay and work at the school were always rebuffed, with her insisting it wasn’t necessary.
Maybe not, but she deserved more than just the necessities in life. If it was within his power to make things even a bit easier for her, he wanted to do that. And yeah, maybe if she were around more, he’d finally get the nerve up to ask her out. He’d thought about it often enough—sometimes it was all he could think of. But although they seemed to have returned to a semblance of friendship, he could sense the barriers she’d erected. She wasn’t ready for more than that. She might never be. So he grabbed whatever brief moments he could and waited for some kind of sign.
He wanted to believe that her agreeing to stay at the school today was that sign, but he was pretty sure Mother Nature, not any romantic interest, had spurred that decision. Still, she was there. It wouldn’t be that strange if he dropped in to check on her at some point and then casually suggest they go out for dinner sometime, right? Or maybe dinner was too much. Maybe drinks. Or coffee. Start small, and see how things went.
It was a solid plan. Except, of course, for the very real chance that his mounting interest would scare her off. Was he willing to risk it? Especially since there were myriad reasons why he shouldn’t pursue her at all. His job, her busy lifestyle, the fact that she’d reacted very badly the one time they’d crossed the line from friendship to something more. Yeah, he had plenty of rationale for leaving things as they were, not rocking the boat. And one good reason for moving forward.
Megan.
She was the first thing he thought of when he woke up, and what he dreamed of at night. He’d even started timing his meetings around her dog’s potty schedule, for crying out loud. And, like a junkie who needed more and more to get his fix, those few minutes in the hallway weren’t cutting it anymore.
If they were dating, he’d have the right to call her in the evenings, or to drop by. They’d get the chance to have real conversations. He’d picked up bits and pieces about her life, but he wanted to know more. He wanted to know everything about her. And most of all, he wanted to have another taste of her.
That thought pushed him over the edge. Shoving up from his desk, he stalked down the hall to the closed conference room door. Rapping once, he pushed it open and found her chewing on the end of a pencil as she squinted at her computer screen. She didn’t look happy.
Maybe this was a bad idea. The timing was off. She hadn’t even seemed to notice that he was there. He could just leave and try another day.
Then again, she might go back to working at the park. This might be his only chance. He was going to hate himself if he didn’t take it.
This very well might be now or never. And never wasn’t an option he was willing to contemplate.
Not wanting to startle her, he cleared his throat as he entered. No reaction. Again, he considered leaving. Again, he rejected the idea. At this point, he just wanted this whole thing to be over with, even if she turned him down. At least he’d know, and maybe then he could stop obsessing over her.
Giving up on the subtle approach, he approached the table. “Hi.”
That was terrible, as far as pickup lines went, but she looked up, so he’d take it.
“Oh. Hi.” She pushed at the strands of hair that had fallen over her eyes, shoving them haphazardly back into the loose bun she always wore. He’d overhead one of the female teachers referring to the style as a messy bun, or a mom bun, but whatever it was, it was sexy as hell. Or maybe that was just Megan in general. Yeah, pretty sure that was it.
As Luke stood there staring at her like a loon, her expression grew concerned. “Is everything all right? Did someone complain about me being here?” She started to close her laptop. “I can leave. I’m sure the storm will be letting up soon.” Another crash of thunder made her wince. “Or not. But—”
He caught her hand, stilling it before she could put her computer into her bag. “Stop. Everything’s fine. I was just...checking on you.” Now he was the one wincing. “In a totally non-stalker-ish, supportive-of-your-independence kind of way.”
She stared at him, a strange, almost painful look on her face.
Great, he’d offended her.
She laughed suddenly, bending almost double and shaking with the force of it. He probably should be offended, her amusement was definitely at his expense. But seeing her let loose was more than worth the blow to his ego. She always maintained an edge of control, even in the most casual environment. Only when she’d kissed him had he glimpsed the real Megan, the one who didn’t feel the need to weigh every decision, to consider every action. And now, again, he was seeing her. As she gasped for breath, her eyes sparkled as she giggled uncontrollably, and he was awestruck.
“I’m sorry,” she finally managed to say, wiping the tears from her eyes. “But that was probably the most ridiculous thing I’ve heard in a long time.”
“No worries. You looked like you could use a laugh. If I’d known sticking my foot in my mouth would have that effect on you, I’d have done it a long time ago.”
“And why is that?” she questioned, a smile still on her lips. If he didn’t know better, he’d have thought she was flirting.
“Everyone needs a bit of fun now and then. And,” he said, biting the bullet, “you’re beautiful when you laugh.”
Her face froze, and he felt her armor slip back into place, the walls go up. Desperate not to lose the moment, he plowed on. “I actually came in here to ask if you’d like to go out for coffee. With me.”
She dropped her gaze and reached for her computer, avoiding his eyes. “No need, the coffee here really isn’t that bad. I had a cup just a bit ago.”
He wondered for a second if he’d been unclear. Maybe she hadn’t realized he was asking her out, not inquiring about her caffeine status. Her shaking hands and the blush of pink climbing up her cheeks told him the misunderstanding was deliberate.
He could leave it be, back off and go along with the charade. Or he could go for broke.
“Megan.” He waited until she looked up at him. If she wanted to turn him down, she was going to have to say it to his face. “I want to spend more time with you. Personally, not professionally.”
“I...I don’t understand.”
“I’m asking you out. On a date. Coffee. Dinner. A movie. Whatever you want.”
Indecision clouded her sky blue eyes. “Do you really think that’s a good idea?”
“The truth?” He shrugged. “I don’t know. But I do know I can’t stop thinking about you.”
Her blush deepened and she tried to look away.
“Don’t.” He lowered himself into the chair beside hers and cupped her cheek, turning her eyes toward his. “Don’t run away fr
om this.”
* * *
Megan’s pulse was pounding so loudly in her ears she could barely make out Luke’s words. But his meaning was clear. He was right. She was running. Not just from him, but from the feelings he brought to the surface, feelings she’d thought were gone forever. Did she want to go down that road again? She’d nearly lost herself in the pain of losing her husband, but she’d held strong because of Owen. If she and Luke tried and things didn’t work out, she’d be risking not only her own heart, but Owen’s, as well.
Taking hold of that thought, she let out a breath. “People will talk. You know they will. We sat in the same pew and half the town had us eloping by the end of the week. If we go out on a date, it will start a feeding frenzy among the gossip groupies.”
His fingers traced the curve of her jaw and up to her ear. “I don’t care.”
It was so hard to focus while he was touching her like that, but she had to try. “You don’t mean that. Besides, I care. I don’t want Owen having to deal with it.”
His hand stilled, letting her know she’d made her point. But then his grin returned and his fingers began working their magic again, this time finding their way to the nape of her neck. “So we keep it a secret. That could be fun.”
He pulled her to him, closing the small gap until her thigh pressed against his knees. “I’d love to take you out and show you off, but if privacy is what you want, I can definitely work with that.” The husky tone of his voice had her body tingling in all the right places, making it hard to think of a reason to say no. Or maybe she just didn’t want to say no. His strong hand began gently kneading the knots of tension at the base of her neck and she groaned.
His pupils dilated at the sound, his breath hitched. She loved the effect she had on him, even as she fought her own response. “No one will know?” she whispered, desire nearly strangling the words.
“Not unless you want them to.”
“Okay.” She said it quickly, before she could change her mind.
Her sudden agreement seemed to surprise Luke. One eyebrow raised, he searched her face as if expecting a trick. “Really? You’re sure?”
No, she wasn’t sure. But for once she was going to leap before she looked. If—or more likely when—things went badly, she’d deal with it. With their reputations and Owen’s feelings protected, all she was risking was her own pain. And with Luke’s lips so close to hers, his touch and scent filling her senses, she was willing to deal with that later for just a little of how he was making her feel right now.
Putting that all into words would ruin the moment, so she showed him instead.
Angling forward, she found his mouth with hers. Last time, she’d been tentative, hesitant, easing her way into the kiss. This time, she skipped past it all. She’d waited weeks to taste him, and she wasn’t waiting any longer. Greedily, she licked, nipped, and explored his mouth, and he met her hunger with his own. The hand at her neck held her steady while his other hand moved to her thigh, tracing small circles higher and higher. Eyes closed, she tried to move nearer, needing to be pressed against him but boxed in by the arm of the chair and the edge of the table.
Sensing her frustration, he shifted and gripped her waist, lifting her up while kicking the chair out of the way. For an instant, she was floating, carried in his strong arms, and then she felt the hard wood of the conference room door against her back. Click. The sound of the lock was loud in her ears. Had anyone else heard it? Were some staff member standing in the hallway right now, listening?
“Stop,” Luke growled.
“Stop what?” she asked, squirming as he nipped at the sensitive skin above her collarbone.
“Thinking.” He licked the spot he’d just grazed, and she gasped at the contrasting sensations.
“I’m not supposed to think?” she managed to ask before his mouth covered hers, silencing her with a very thorough kiss.
He lifted his head. “Not right now.” He kissed her, and this time she felt her knees start to buckle. “Just feel.”
As if to convince her, he pressed his body against hers, pinning her gently with his hips while his hands roamed up and down her sides, leaving goose bumps in their wake.
Mmm...he was right. Feeling was better than thinking. Giving in, she reached for him, pulling him ever closer.
* * *
His mouth returned to Megan’s skin, setting her on fire each place his lips landed. She fisted her hands into his shirt, holding on for dear life. The only thing she was capable of thinking now was that they were both wearing way too many clothes.
He must have had the same thought. “How unprofessional would it be for me to strip you down and take you against this door?” he asked, sneaking a hand under her T-shirt.
She gasped as he cupped her breast, arching toward him even as she vetoed the idea. “Very.”
His hand stilled and then eased back to her waist. His breathing was ragged, his muscles rigid beneath the starched fabric of his shirt. For a moment, they just stood there, forehead to forehead, as the world slowly came back into focus.
“At least this time you can’t kick me out,” he teased once they were both breathing normally.
Ugh, she still couldn’t believe she’d done that. But he was overwhelming, and having her barriers knocked down at the time had freaked her out. Especially when she’d been the one knocking them down.
“You’re doing it again.” His voice was light though his stare was serious. “You have a very bad habit of overthinking things.”
“Sometimes.” Might as well own it. “When things are complicated.”
A wicked little smile crossed his face. “Well then, how about I simplify things. I like you, and I’m pretty sure you like me.”
She nodded, biting her lip.
“Then that’s all that matters. Like I said, simple.”
She wanted to believe him. But somehow, she didn’t think it was going to be quite that easy.
Chapter Ten
Luke had never thought of himself as a masochist, but encouraging Megan to work in the empty conference room during the day had turned into a kind of self-torture. Sitting in his office all week, knowing she was just down the hall, was a painful temptation. The few stolen kisses they’d managed had only primed his desire, until it threatened to spill over in public, which he had promised wouldn’t happen. The only saving grace in all of this was that he knew Megan was dealing with the same frustration.
What they needed was a few hours of actual privacy. The problem was how to make that happen. Not only was there Owen to consider, but they both were incredibly busy. She had a big coding project she was working on for some client in Mumbai, and he had people breathing down his neck about the annual fundraiser banquet coming up. Each year they put on a holiday-themed event, hoping to hit people when they were looking to make end-of-year tax-deductible donations. Last year’s totals had been less than stellar, and although it wasn’t official, he’d be willing to bet that was a big reason the board had decided to bring new blood into the administration. Namely, him. And if he wanted to keep his job, he needed to be sure this year’s gala and fundraising totals weren’t a repeat of last year’s.
He was an educator, not a party planner, and it chafed him to have to spend so much time and energy dealing with catering decisions and seating arrangements—Mrs. Cristoff had called three times about that already today—when he had a million other, more relevant, issues to address. But he was a realist. Those donations were the reason All Saints was able to keep tuition affordable for the island families it served. Without them, he’d have to either cut salaries or charge parents more, and neither option appealed to him. He just wished the people with the money would write the checks based solely on the importance of the cause instead of needing to be wined and dined before they pulled out their wallets.
Fair or not, the gala meant he was swamped with more
work than he could fit into a twenty-four-hour day, and that meant no sneaking over to Megan’s after dark, like he had originally hoped. But tonight that was going to change. If they weren’t going to be a couple in public, then they had to make time to be together in private. That was why he’d spent the entire day chained to his desk, pounding through as much work as possible just to take the evening off guilt-free.
Normally he made a point of “accidentally” bumping into Megan at least once during the day, either in the lounge where she’d switched the generic coffee for freshly ground beans she brought in herself, or in the halls when she was walking Lily. He’d gotten good at coming up with excuses to stop by the conference room, as well, usually under the pretext of storing or retrieving supplies from the packed shelves. He’d fetched and retrieved the same stack of manila folders three times, all to have a few minutes alone with her. But he was willing to skip that ruse today in favor of uninterrupted time with her tonight.
Forcing Megan from his mind, he clicked through his email, taking notes and sending responses where appropriate. Several were from parents inquiring about homework assignments or upcoming exams, and he forwarded those to the appropriate faculty member. He’d just landed on the email requesting approval of a field trip idea from the science department when a knock sounded at his door.
Frustrated by the interruption, he bit out a “come in” and returned his attention to the monitor in front of him.
“Is now a bad time?” Megan’s hesitant query had his head snapping up in surprise.
“No, not at all.” He grimaced, knowing he’d sounded short. “Please come in. My bark is worse than my bite, I promise.”
She blushed at his word choice, and he realized the accidental innuendo. Closing the door behind her first, she moved to the side of his desk.
Taking her hand, he pulled her into his lap and nipped at her lush bottom lip.
“Hey now,” she laughed, wrapping her arm around his neck. “I thought you said you didn’t bite.”