by Kimberly van Meter - A Sinclair Homecoming (The Sinclairs of Alaska)
“I am Rainbow Aurora. I will be your guide through this journey to wellness this evening,” the instructor said, and Wade had the presence of mind not to roll his eyes. Rainbow Aurora? He wanted to ask if her parents had graced her with that name or was that the name she’d taken on when she started her journey to Stretchy Pants Land. Okay, stop being a jerk and try to make a go of this, he told himself when the voice in his head became incredibly snarky. “If at any time you feel panicked and can’t breathe, go into child’s pose and give yourself over to the sensations your body is creating.”
He shot a look at Morgan. Are you kidding me? She simply smiled and squared her shoulders with a blissful, anticipatory expression that made his insides tremble a little. Or maybe it was impending heatstroke.
Within the first five minutes of the class Wade wanted to escape except his legs had turned to jelly and he was pretty sure his lungs were sticking together. Why did he stay? Simple. Because watching Morgan perform her yoga poses managed to make the heat in the room seem like a cool breeze. While he struggled, Morgan floated from pose to pose in utter peace, demonstrating how flexible she was and how deplorably stiff he was. He was fairly certain he’d spent almost the entire class stuck in child pose, and even then he felt as if he’d been folded into the shape of a pretzel because it had to be unnatural for a man to remain in that pose for too long.
By the time the hour was up he had to admit his muscles felt looser than they’d been in years and exhilaration followed at having survived the class. He followed Morgan gratefully out of that hotbox and drank from his water bottle in big, greedy gulps. “I think I just sweated out a whole person,” he said when he could speak. “That was insane and I think you tricked me into going. That was no peaceful, gentle class.”
She smiled but didn’t deny it. “If I’d told you that you were about to go to a class where the room was heated to ninety-five degrees and do stretches what would you have said?”
“I would’ve told you no way.” He grinned. “You’re a crafty woman. I better watch out for you.”
“How do you feel?”
“Actually, I feel pretty good. I think this is my body’s reaction to still being alive after a brush with death.”
She laughed, the sound tickling his insides. He liked the way her face lit up with a smile and how she seemed far different from the buttoned-up therapist she presented at first. “Well, you said you wanted help sleeping. This always works for me. Every time I go to yoga class, by bedtime I’m ready to hit the sheets.”
“That’d be a miracle. I’ll let you know how it goes.” Sweat tricked from every pore, and he probably looked like a human faucet but he really wanted to invite her out for a nightcap. However, he knew that wasn’t going to happen. He mopped his face with the small towel she’d instructed him to bring and said, “This has been...fun. I think. But now I have to go take a shower before I turn into a pillar of salt.”
She smiled and wiped her own face. “Drink lots of water. You could dehydrate easily after a class like this. The water will also help with the soreness that you’ll feel tomorrow.”
“Soreness? You mean the torture continues?”
“Well, my guess is that you stretched muscles that haven’t been stretched in a very long time. Chances are you will be very sore tomorrow and possibly worse the following day.”
“That’s something to look forward to. Sore tomorrow and worse the day after that. Tell me again why I did this?” He was joking and he loved the way her eyes sparkled with mirth as they bantered back and forth. She intrigued him. There was something about her that lit a spark deep inside him that should have been a warning but he wasn’t in the frame of mind to listen. No, in fact, he wanted to know even more about her. “Hey, I know this is probably an inappropriate suggestion and if you shoot me down I won’t hold it against you but would you like to go get coffee tomorrow morning? I promise to be showered and not dripping with sweat. I’m told I clean up pretty well.”
“I’m sure you clean up very well, Wade Sinclair. You know you’re a very handsome man,” she said with a mild tease to her voice but soon enough she sobered, as if compelled to throw out a disclaimer, and added, “It probably goes without saying that we shouldn’t, given my connection to your mom’s case.”
“What if I promise not to talk about my mom at all?” he suggested, determined to get that coffee date. “It’s a small town. I’m sure you run into this situation a lot. If you never had anything to do with any of your clients’ relations, I suspect you’d end up very lonely because there wouldn’t be anyone left to talk to. Besides, it’s just coffee. It’s been a long time since I’ve been home and I didn’t really keep ties so it’d be nice to talk with somebody who knows what’s going on around town.”
“And your sister and brother can’t do that for you?” A tiny smile played with the corners of her mouth. Was she flirting with him? God, he hoped so because he was fairly certain he was flirting with her a tiny bit.
“Let’s just say my siblings and I have some unfinished business from the past that makes it hard to just chat.”
She seemed to consider his offer and he could tell she was wavering. Please say yes. He’d never been so keen on getting a woman to go to coffee with him before. In fact, he’d never actually chased a woman before. She played with her bottom lip with her front teeth and just when he was fairly certain she was going to turn him down, she relented with a small exhale as if going against her better judgment and said, “I’m sure this is not a good idea. I just want to go on record as to say we probably should keep the lines drawn between us but coffee seems harmless enough. What time would you like to meet?”
A wild thought occurred to him as he said, “How about this...I’ll meet you at your place and we can enjoy coffee without the threat of people staring or whispering or making things seem less than professional.”
“Are you asking to come to my house in the morning and have coffee with me? Or are you asking to come home with me tonight and share coffee with me over breakfast?”
A jolt of awareness went straight to his groin and even though he hadn’t been thinking along those lines, that one simple question was like an adrenaline shot to the heart. Pulse thundering, and his mind gleefully throwing all sorts of images that weren’t appropriate into his mental theater, he stammered an apology, worried that he’d offended her. “I...I’m sorry if I’ve overstepped myself. I was just trying to think of a way that might work for us both, given our situation. I didn’t mean to imply—” Heat crawled into his cheeks as he struggled to redeem himself but Morgan’s light laughter put him at ease.
“Relax, Wade. I was kidding.”
“Oh, thank goodness. For a second I really thought I’d offended you.”
“No, not at all. It’s been a long time since I’ve bantered with anyone of the opposite sex, and sometimes I forget how to do it successfully.” She blushed. “Wow, this conversation just deteriorated, didn’t it?”
“No, it’s fine. It’s my fault. I should’ve never suggested going to your house for coffee. Now that I think about it, I realize how that must’ve sounded. We can meet at the coffee shop. If anyone has anything to say they can just keep it to themselves.”
She released a shaky breath and nodded, but if Wade wasn’t mistaken, he detected a tiny bit of disappointment in her expression. Was it possible that she’d briefly entertained the inappropriate version of his suggestion? Chances were, he’d never know. “Yes, the coffee shop would be best,” she said, switching things up with an almost too-bright smile. “I will meet you at 8:30 for a little friendly chat.”
In a parallel universe, he would’ve pulled her into his arms, sweat and all, and planted an exploratory kiss right on that sweetly curving mouth. In that universe, he didn’t care about how it looked or why he shouldn’t. In that world, his hotel bed that night would’ve remained made and unto
uched. But he didn’t live in that world. He lived in this world and he’d just have to settle for something far less satisfactory with the alluring Morgan O’Hare.
He returned her smile and, feeling as if he’d just penciled in a business meeting, said, “I look forward to it. Again, I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I wish we could just erase that last couple of moments. I hope you don’t hold it against me. My dad used to say the reason God created women was because men needed someone to smooth out the rough edges that men had created with their mouths. I never understood that saying until just now.”
To his surprise, she laughed. “That’s a good one. No worries. I will see you at eight-thirty. And stop beating yourself up. It was an innocent comment that just came out wrong.”
He nodded and slipped on his jacket while she did the same. “I’ll walk you to your car,” he offered, and she started to decline but he shook his head, knowing his offer was nonnegotiable. “It’s dark and God knows who’s out there watching. Please allow me to walk you to your car so that I know you’re safe.”
At that she nodded, and he knew he didn’t need to spell out his reasons for his apparent chivalry. It was impossible for him to allow a woman to walk alone in a darkened parking lot if he was within a reasonable distance to escort her. Maybe if someone had been with Simone that night, she’d still be here and this entire mess his family was in wouldn’t have happened. Another instance of the parallel universe.
“Thank you,” she said, pausing at her car door. Her breath plumed before her and he had to root his feet so he didn’t close the distance to sweep a kiss across her lips. “I’m glad to see gentlemen still exist in this modern world,” she said.
He smiled and gave a mock bow as if he were her knight in shining armor, and once she was safely inside her car, he got into his own.
His plans had included watching some television after showering but his conversation with Morgan stayed with him far longer than he expected it to. In fact, as he slipped into the shower his thoughts were firmly on Morgan’s flexible body and they were decidedly Rated R.
Wade enjoyed sex but he’d never been ruled by the pursuit of it. He’d often gone long stretches between relationships and he wasn’t one to seek out a one-night stand, so when he had the urge for a little carnal activity, if he wasn’t in a relationship, he simply buried himself in work until the urge went away.
But he didn’t want to bury this urge. He closed his eyes and allowed his hand to stray to his erection, remembering every line and curve in Morgan’s body, and the way her eyes closed in peaceful bliss as she held her poses. The downward dog had been particularly engaging as he pictured himself behind her, framing that perfect backside with his hands on her hips, guiding his aching length into her ready and willing heat.
Was it wrong, fantasizing about his mother’s therapist? Surely, there was something wrong with that—but something about Morgan worked for him in a way that he’d never experienced. She was a brainy beauty without an ounce of guile—in fact, he wasn’t even sure if she was aware of how sexy she really was. She hid behind those glasses and conservative clothing but beneath was a woman bursting at the seams with raw sexuality, and the men in Homer were fools if they didn’t see it.
Hell, if the situation were different, he might’ve enjoyed the early-morning coffee suggestion—the one that wasn’t based in friendship.
He shuddered and nearly fell against the shower wall as his knees threatened to buckle. Several minutes passed before he could stand without trembling and when he could, he quickly washed and exited the shower, not sure what had come over him. He climbed into bed and snapped off the light, prepared to fight the insomnia as usual, but within five minutes, his eyelids began to droop and he drifted into dreamland. His last thought before dropping off being, tomorrow I’m buying that girl’s coffee! Hallulejah! Sleep!
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
MORGAN ADJUSTED HER purse on her shoulder for at least the tenth time as she waited for Wade and wondered briefly if she looked half as nervous as she felt on the inside. She’d paid particular attention to her wardrobe this morning and had actually spent a little extra time with some mascara and blush before heading out the door.
David had always insisted that she look perfect whenever she stepped outside their house, and after he’d died, she’d eschewed makeup in favor of a clean face, blemishes and all. It fit the part of the grieving widow to pay so little attention to her makeup but that wasn’t the reason she’d thrown away nearly every bit of high-priced toiletries David had purchased for her. She’d wanted to reclaim some part of herself and that included her dislike for heavily made-up faces. She rather liked seeing people’s flaws. Maybe if she’d caught a glimpse of David’s secret flaws she would’ve looked past the flattery and the seemingly polished exterior and run far, far away.
Stop thinking about David, she told herself sharply, swallowing a lump in her throat. He was gone and he wasn’t coming back. He couldn’t control what she wore, how she did her hair or how she chose to wear her makeup. Maybe this was a mistake, a different voice piped into her thoughts. What was she thinking going to coffee with Wade? It wasn’t ethical. Or was it? Was she breaking any rules? Was she not allowed to have friends?
Just as she was about to walk out the door and call Wade with an excuse, she nearly collided with him, forcing a laugh at her own private neuroses that he had no clue she was mired in. “I’m sorry! I was just...”
“Leaving?” he supplied, and she blushed at being caught, but his warm smile dissolved the apprehension spilling over in her brain. Why shouldn’t she enjoy coffee with Wade? They were consenting adults and as far as she knew there was no law against it, nor was there an ethical quandary caused by enjoying polite conversation over a dark brew.
But one good look at Wade and she couldn’t ignore the little flutters of awareness that tickled her insides. Damn, he was handsome. Classic Sinclair good looks. Wade’s expression faltered and she realized she’d taken too long of a pause and flat out lied to cover up her actions.
“No, not at all. I was just going to step outside to check my voice mail because the service in the building is spotty.”
“Oh, do you still need to check your voice mail?” he asked courteously, and she purposefully dropped her phone into her purse.
“Nope. I was just killing time. I can check my messages later.”
“Great,” he said with a smile as they got into line. “Because I am determined to buy you coffee this morning as a thank-you for tricking me into that horrendous class.”
“Oh? And why is that?”
He leaned down to murmur in her ear. “Because I slept like a baby last night for the first time in years. I feel like a new man and it’s all because of you.”
Morgan suppressed a shudder of pure hunger that lanced straight through her and fought the urge to lean into him and angle her lips for a kiss. She imagined he was a great kisser. There was something sensual about his mouth that tugged at the part of her imagination that she’d long ago shut down, reawakening urges and needs.
Her breath caught and for a long moment she forgot they were standing in a coffee shop in front of everyone who had eyes to see. She licked her lips and managed to say, “I’m so happy for you,” but her mind was suggesting a different way to expend energy. “You could come with me next week if you’re still in town.”
His eyes briefly sparked with something aside from polite friendship, and Morgan knew with a certainty that she wasn’t alone in her less-than-neighborly feelings. What would it be like to throw caution to the wind and do something so reckless, so wild and out of character, that it left a mark on her psyche? Would that one single action have the power to break the walls she’d erected to protect herself? Danger. She had enough marks on her soul. Back away, don’t go there, a voice warned, but she felt drugged with the potential she saw in his eyes. “I hav
e better coffee at home,” she murmured, almost unable to believe that the words had made it past her lips. Who was she? And who was in control of her mouth? She held her breath, wondering if he would read between the lines and hear what she hadn’t said.
“Are you sure?” he asked, and she knew neither were talking about coffee. She jerked a small nod, and he said in a low tone that only she could hear. “I would love to sample your coffee but I feel compelled to ask...should we?”
“It would complicate things,” Morgan agreed, slowly crashing back to reality. What was she thinking? She was losing her mind. “I don’t know why I said that. Now I’m the one making things weird. I’m so sorry.” Heat flooded her cheeks, and she wanted to sink through the floor. When had she become so inept at talking like a normal person with someone of the opposite sex? She abruptly turned back around to face the coffee line, relieved to see she was next up. “The coffee here is excellent,” she said, putting an end to the strange walkabout they’d taken together. “Best in town.”
* * *
WADE DIDN’T WANT COFFEE. He wanted Morgan. Yeah, that was a sure-fire way to muck things up, and he wasn’t the wild one in the family, so why was he itching to break the rules? He’d always considered himself the stable one. And stable people don’t go off trying to bed their mother’s therapist—no matter how badly his hands shook with the desire to roam her beautiful body.
They managed to order their coffee and find a nice, private area to enjoy their early-morning kickstart and as expected, their conversation was decidedly benign and boring. It was as if each of them was so intent on preserving propriety that they knowingly engaged in completely ridiculous fluff just to avoid talking about what they both wanted.
Finally, after a third go-around about the weather—yeah, snow’s coming, it’s Alaska. Snow is always coming at some point—Wade cut to the chase and simply threw it out there. “I’m attracted to you, Morgan. What do you think about that?”