Morrow's Horizon (The Morrow Women Series Book 1)

by Sierra Kummings

  Sara disconnected the call without an ounce of guilt. After parking in the first available spot at The Morning After Café, she reached for her jacket in the backseat. As if in retribution, the universe laughed in response to the futile gesture. Full out, belly-rumbling laughter. All directed at her.

  Clarity hit her like a bitch. The things she’d forgotten today had been her jacket and the stack of important papers she’d placed next to it on her kitchen counter.

  Her conscience shouted in triumph, as if remembering now did her one bit of good.

  There went her plan to start on the veterans’ Christmas wish list at lunch, and she didn’t have time to spare. Her contact at the VA center had delayed giving the final names until last night, which meant Sara now had less than twenty days to complete each family’s wishes. Her friend Ray would thankfully help, but only after he received the fax from her.

  She tried to rid herself of the envy she felt whenever she thought of Ray doing what they both loved full time. She didn’t regret her job at the bank—it gave her the freedom to live on her own while paying her student loan debt—but in the dead of night while she fantasized about Jacob Ramírez, she also dreamed of what it’d be like to follow her heart’s desire when it came to her job too.

  Sunlight streamed out from behind the clouds, reminding Sara it wasn’t the dead of night right now and that she didn’t have time to daydream. She reached for her sunglasses to dim the blinding glare off her car’s windshield and breathed a sigh of relief as she tucked them behind her ears. Her eyes weren’t ready for the San Diego sun, regardless of the breathtaking view the brilliant light offered of palm trees and desert beauty.

  She wasn’t ready for the cold either, but faced with no other option, she braced for it and grabbed her keys, cell, and debit card. Come on, boots. Prove to me you’re worth more than your looks. In spite of their penchant for slipping out from under her, she rushed into the coffee shop warmth.

  Thank you, baby Je—Oh, no.

  The first smell of coffee, fresh pastries, and seasonal peppermint concoctions had her stomach threatening to rebel. And didn’t that just make her morning better. Blowing chunks all over the floor of one of her favorite places guaranteed she’d never be able to show her face there again, and they served the best coffee within twenty miles of her place.

  To ensure her welcome on future visits, Sara stayed by the door, still inside but close enough to make a quick escape if needed.

  Luckily, it didn’t take long for her stomach to calm down, and once the ability to swallow returned, she cautiously stepped in line, albeit still hidden behind sunglasses in case she embarrassed herself. Not that anyone in the busy café would notice her so long as she didn’t make a scene. Staff carried on with the mix of cheer and fatigue only seen at Christmas. While the barista with tattoo sleeves on both arms took order after order, holiday music piped through the store’s speakers.

  Neither the time of year nor music did anything for Sara’s mood. Last night had sucked, but realizing she was destined for more nights just like it sucked even worse. Sage was right. She couldn’t expect anything different if she kept choosing the same type of guys. But what was her alternative? Getting her heart broken? No, thank you.

  “Ma’am?”

  Sara jolted at the barista’s question, unaware she’d made it to the front of the line.

  “Can I help you?”

  I hope so. Sara needed all the help she could get. “Can you give me a restart to my day?” Or better yet, a new life? One where money isn’t an issue and men who make me weak in the knees can be trusted?

  “Excuse me?” The tattooed girl glanced impatiently at the long line going back to the door.

  “Um, a large—” The ringing of Sara’s phone earned a scowl from the overworked barista. Sara sent the woman an apologetic look and fumbled with the items in her hand, setting her keys on the counter to silence the obnoxious ring. “Sorry, a large caramel latte with a double shot of espresso, please.”

  Sage’s voice blasted on speaker, “FUCKING ASSHAT.”

  Dammit, Sara had hit the wrong button. She disconnected the call, another apology in her eyes, and quickly paid for her drink before stepping to the other end of the counter.

  A text came through almost immediately.

  Sage: I can’t BELIEVE you hung up on me.

  Sara: Sorry. Can’t talk.

  Sage: Mmm-hmm. And here I was going to tell you not to be so hard on yourself about Dan.

  Sara: Yeah right.

  Sage: I WAS. Come on. His poor dick performance aside, it wouldn’t have worked out anyway. Tessa…

  Sage had felt that too?

  Sara: I’d hoped I’d been the only one to notice.

  Sara had expected uneasiness the first time Dan had been introduced to their niece—Tessa was as unique as they came—but by the second and third family get-together, he should’ve fallen under her spell. Everyone did. Everyone but him, at least. During one of her meltdowns, he’d watched her, while she’d kicked and screamed and almost threw her body onto the floor, with a look of disgust on his face, and all because she’d had a tantrum. What kid didn’t have them? Sara had been putting her in her wheelchair after an exuberant dancing session, and the little girl hadn’t wanted to stop yet. So what if Tessa’s movements were atypical and her head rocked from side to side? That was part of what made her unique. Her tantrums didn’t happen frequently, but they did happen—Tessa was nothing if not a strong-willed girl—and the Morrow clan loved her all the more for it.

  Sara: I need to apologize to Maddie.

  And Tessa. Her being nonverbal didn’t mean the six-year-old couldn’t understand.

  Sage: Don’t be silly. Our sis knows where your loyalty lies. Anyone who doesn’t see Tessa for the gift she is doesn’t stand a fighting chance of earning a part of your heart.

  How could they? Tessa was goodness and light—.

  “Medium coffeé. Black. One packet of sugár.”

  The simple request from a man at the counter had Sara putting down her phone. She turned to the voice, drawn to the customer whose face she couldn’t see. Despite his near perfect English, the slight lilt at the end of each short sentence suggested a fluency in Spanish.

  One would think living this close to the Mexican border, Sara would be immune to the effects of the foreign language rolling off a man’s tongue. One would be wrong. Its gentle cadence sent her into fantasies at the first word.

  If she were ever going to take a risk on anyone it would be with someone like the man who currently had his back to her. At least half a foot taller than Sara’s own five-foot-eleven inches, he towered over everyone, and in a way that commanded attention. His knee-length jacket hid everything but broad shoulders, yet his presence called to her on a visceral level. She didn’t have to see his face. She didn’t have to see his body. His sex appeal came from something far greater than those two things. And she wasn’t the only one staring. At least half the people in the place had their eyes focused on him too.

  “Ma’am.” The barista nodded in Sara’s direction, breaking her fascination and offering a to-go cup.

  As much as Sara wanted to continue staring, she grabbed her phone, took the coffee, and headed outside. Her favorite drink would have to suffice as the only hot thing in her life at the moment. Sipping it while she drove the rest of the way to work would be infinitely better than whatever drama that guy was sure to cause anyway, despite what her sister had said.

  Shivering, Sara hustled to where she’d parked her car while checking the time on her phone. Twenty minutes to spare with only a fifteen-minute drive. Not bad. She smiled in triumphant at her little red Toyota.

  Her smile didn’t last long. She’d come out with her coffee, but only two of her other possessions.

  A voice behind her said, “You might need these.”

  The familiar tenor from inside washed over Sara and made her forget all about the cold and how she’d be better off without the complicatio
n of one extremely sexy Latin man. His voice tempted her even more up close than it had in the café.

  She struggled for words, fearing her reaction would only intensify once she turned around. If he could start a shiver racing down her spine while he remained faceless, what would he do to her when her gaze actually met his?

  Knowing he most likely had the keys she was now missing, she turned slowly, keeping her stare solely fixated on the huge palm holding out her keychain. “Um…” Oh, stop being an idiot. He’s only a man. “Thanks, I appreciate it…” Her voice trailed off as she realized the man in front of her was much more than only a man.

  The person holding out her keys was none other than the person whose pictures she’d spent countless hours drooling over.

  Jacob Ramírez.

  The Latin lover of her dreams.

  In the flesh, he definitely made her knees weak—so weak, hot coffee spilled on her hand instigating a string of internal curse words while she placed the to-go cup on the car roof and attempted to appear cool, as if she had any hope left of that considering her dimwitted stare.

  But how could she be blamed for words failing her? She hadn’t seen the co-owner and CFO of the small bank she worked for in person in her entire four-year tenure.

  “You okay, Míss?” Coming from Jacob, “miss” sounded like “meece”, jacking up Sara’s hormones even more. It didn’t help that the corners of his sultry lips also twitched in a sexy smirk, no doubt since he still held out the keys she’d yet to grab.

  Oh, for Heaven’s sake. “Perhaps I really should go back to bed.”

  “Perhaps I should…” He trailed off as if he decided against what he’d been about to say.

  Yet Sara waited with bated breath, filling in his silence with what she’d most wanted to hear.

  He should what? Go back to bed himself, or perhaps he should join her?

  The latter thought slowed Sara in the act of claiming her keys. Instead of taking them from his outstretched hand, her fingertips grazed his palm first. The touch should have been innocent, yet it in combination with her imagination made her head reel. She froze with her hand still in his, losing herself in the cloudy brown of his eyes.

  Offspring’s “Pretty Fly for a White Guy” broke the spell.

  Harrison.

  For once, Sara thanked her sister for programming the appropriate song into her phone for her manager’s number. His newfound desire to call outside of business hours irritated her family as much as it did her. Today, however, she had to give thanks to Harrison too. His call had brought her back to reality, even if she had no intention of answering her phone.

  Her thanks turned to annoyance, though, when her phone rang again immediately after she sent it to voicemail. With no regrets, she held down the power button, silencing it for good. Harrison would have her full attention in twenty minutes. That would have to be good enough for now. “Just when I think I can’t take anymore…”

  Jacob finished the sentence for her. “…your boss hounds you.”

  Surprise that he’d read her so well turned to lust. She yearned for a chance to spend more time with him, just to hear him speak.

  Yeah, right, because that’s all she wanted from Mr. Ramírez.

  Despite the bad news Harrison’s repeated phone calls could only mean, she smiled a goofy grin at Jacob, earning a return grin from Jacob that quite literally knocked the air from her lungs and no doubt made her look even more like a bug-eyed, gaping-mouthed lunatic. “How di—?” Her voice croaked, stopping her from continuing.

  What a stellar first impression.

  Sara cleared her throat to try again. “Do you know me?” Had he seen her when she’d taken training classes at their corporate office? Had he been as interested in her as she was in him, enough that he remembered her?

  Stop it.

  Jacob took a step back, more than likely to distance himself from the Mad Hatter, his gaze narrowing on her face. “Sorry for scaring you.”

  His voice lost all traces of his accent, yet even with it gone, he still sounded sexy as fuck. And it far from scared her. Nothing about him scared her. “I… scared? No, not hardly.” How could he scare her when she wanted to undress him one article of clothing at a time? With her teeth. “I thought maybe you’d seen me before.”

  “I’m fairly certain I would have remembered that.”

  …because you find me appealing or because I seem like I might be a stalker? She didn’t mean to stare at him, but how could she not? The hooded gaze he sent her way only added to his sex appeal. Those deep brown pools of intensity sucked her right in. “I-I’m Sara.” Your soulmate.

  Dammit.

  Why did she have to meet him this morning? Sure, her purple sweater showcased boobs the size of California, but it couldn’t hide the obvious effects of last night. Nothing she owned could manage that. “I don’t always look like roadkill, you know.”

  Her confession earned a bark of laughter from Jacob.

  The sound, rough and masculine in its presentation, mesmerized her. So much so, she gave in to the helpless rambling that had plagued her since adolescence. As much as she hated it, it was either that or turn into a giggling little girl. “Don’t let my appearance today fool you. I’m usually much more put together than this. I’m actually kind of a badass. At least to everyone except my immediate boss. I’d be surprised if, when he looks at me, he doesn’t see someone who’s more of a cross between Mrs. Doubtfire and Madea.” She took a breath for much needed air, but to her even greater horror, an unflattering snort escaped. She rushed to cover it. “But Harrison’s an idiot. I do my job well. He’d just prefer I’d do his too. Some days I’m tempted to print up my job description and smack him upside the head with it.” Oh, good God, how in the world did she keep making things worse? In an effort for control, she opened her mouth for another deep breath, yet instead more words came spilling out. “I probably sound really full of myself. I’m not. I promise. My manager is great. Well, maybe not great, but whatever. He didn’t actually compare me to Madea and Mrs. Doubtfire. And if he did, it would be a compliment. They’re hilarious. I just meant…”

  Jacob’s laughter grew, and with it her embarrassment.

  Come on, Sara, pull your shit together!

  Thankfully her phone rang, halting her instinct to continue. She shouted, “Hello,” into it, pressing it tightly against her ear.

  Dead silence answered her.

  She held it out to check who had called, but all she saw was a blank screen.

  Because you turned it off, dummy, right before you threw yourself at your boss’s feet.

  Mortification settled in her chest. As nonchalantly as she could, Sara dropped her hand to her side and peeked at the man who turned her insides to jelly. A smile no longer dominated his face. Instead, a look of resignation replaced its warmth, leaving her cold and shivering in its absence.

  Clearly, she’d worn out any appeal she might have had. And it was all for the good too. Even if by some miracle Jacob had thought he wanted her before she’d opened her big mouth, she would’ve turned him down as soon as he’d tried anything.

  Yeah right.

  Yeah right, nothing. She would have.

  She’d just let her hormones take control for a bit longer than normal. How often did one get a chance to live out a fantasy in real life, after all?

  Not often if her life was any indication. So she’d enjoyed herself. Who cared? Now that she’d had her few minutes of fun, she could go on her way and continue on to her safe job and her quest for an even safer boyfriend.

  Jacob spoke to her as her hand made contact with her car’s door handle. “Espere?” Though his voice carried doubt, he looked at Sara expectantly. “Wait for me? I have to take this, but afterwards…”

  Afterwards?

  She gulped.

  She should say no. She knew that. In fact, everything in her screamed RUN. But then shadows filled his eyes that hadn’t been there when he’d laughed, and an inexplicable desir
e that she swore to herself had nothing to do with attraction and everything to do with the weariness that now clung to him had her saying, “I’ll stay.”

  The stare he fixed on her called her bluff, yet strangely, since she’d already given her acquiescence, she no longer cared that she hadn’t agreed to stay for any reason other than her wish to live out her fantasy. She pictured him crowding her against the car for a fuck session that wouldn’t stop until he’d shown her everything she’d been missing.

  He shrugged out of his long coat. “You’re shivering.”

  No, she was trembling. “I…” …want to have your babies. Right here. Right now.

  Really, Sara?

  Ugh.

  He moved, bringing his body mere inches from hers, and the temptation to jump on him was almost too much to resist. Thankfully, he didn’t know her thoughts as he settled the soft wool on her shoulders.

  Or maybe he did.

  With an unmistakable shaky inhale, Jacob bent his head so close to hers that her hair rustled with his breath. And he stayed there. When a man smelled a woman’s hair that could mean only one thing, right? He wanted her. He wanted to… His lips hovered next to her cheek.

  Dear Mother of God, he was about to kiss her.

  Wait! I—We can’t do this.

  But common sense left her. Sara recognized it even while she was helpless to stop it. Not that she wanted to stop it. At the moment, she didn’t want to do anything other than run her fingers through his thick waves and lock her legs around a waist more than capable of supporting her weight.

  Expectant, she tilted her chin up to bring her mouth even closer to his. Kiss me, Jacob. Show me what I’ve been missing. She held her breath… And kept holding it as he readjusted the jacket to sit more firmly on her shoulders.

  “There. That should make you feel better.”

  Um… yeah, not really. Her breath came out in a rush as he stepped away from her. Crap on a stick! How did he do that? How did he make her forget all of her long-held rules while he seemed so completely unaffected? She practically panted for a release.