When Morning Comes

by Harmony Evans

  She sat down opposite him. “What’s the secret to your success?” she asked, crossing her legs.

  For a split second, Isaac imagined her legs wide open, and only for him. He swallowed hard to rid his mind of the fantasy, knowing that she could only belong to him in his dreams.

  “Intuition, I guess.”

  Her eyebrows knit together. “What do you mean?”

  He settled back deeper in his chair, trying to put some imaginary distance between them. “Knowing when to push and knowing when to pull back.”

  Autumn exhaled. “Ah. Like when you kissed me.” Her eyes flitted briefly to the door and back to him. “Somehow you knew I wanted you, too.”

  Her confession of lust baffled his mind, but his flesh knew exactly how to respond. He shifted in his seat and said nothing, wondering if she was trying to trick him.

  He’d been burned once before in this very office.

  Never again.

  At his silence, she pursed her lips. “Didn’t you?”

  Her tone was so playful and teasing that he realized he wanted to explore the meaning behind her words almost as much as he wanted to explore her.

  “I didn’t know,” he replied, shaking his head. “I took a chance.”

  Isaac dipped his eyes to the single pearl nestled at the base of her neck. Her modest blouse revealed nothing but the memory of her breasts against his body.

  “I didn’t want to stop. Is that wrong?”

  She closed her eyes briefly. “No, but that taxi came along at just the right time.”

  He reached for her hand. “I wish it hadn’t.”

  Gently, he lifted her hand to his mouth, bent his head and moved his lips across her knuckles.

  She whooshed in a breath and her eyes flapped open.

  “Th-that taxi probably saved our careers.”

  Autumn pulled her hand out of his light grasp. She laughed nervously.

  “Or at least mine,” she continued. “I mean, what would people think? I’ve been here barely a week and I— They’ll think I’m trying to make a play for you when all I wanted was—”

  “To be kissed,” Isaac cut in, realizing that what he thought was a deep attraction to him was nothing more than a spur-of-the-moment mistake.

  She folded her hands in her lap as if to dissuade him from touching her. “You know when you haven’t done something in a while and all of a sudden you get the opportunity?”

  Her eyes danced with excitement, but not for him.

  “Sure, when you’re with someone you feel in your heart is safe, you just go for it,” he replied.

  Was that why he felt so comfortable with Autumn, because something about her felt safe to him?

  Autumn blew out a breath. “I knew you’d understand. From what I’ve read about you, you’re at the top of your career.”

  She stood, her pelvis close enough to reach. Close enough for him to pull up that skirt she was neatly smoothing and allow his hands—and his mouth—to mess it up again.

  “You wouldn’t risk it all for an office romance.”

  Oh, wouldn’t I?

  He rose carefully, hating that his flesh didn’t get the memo that Autumn was off-limits. Still, he didn’t bother to conceal the bulge in his pants. Let her see, and then imagine, what she was missing.

  Isaac pushed the chair back with his heel, to allow plenty of space between them.

  “You’re right, Autumn. Why take a risk when you already know it will fail?”

  Her head jerked back as if his words stung something deep inside her. Rather than ask if he’d hurt her, he simply headed to the door, not wanting to hear the answer.

  Isaac turned back to see that she hadn’t moved from where she’d been standing.

  “But hey,” he retorted, knowing he was trying to sound a lot more macho than he felt at the moment. “If you ever want to be kissed again, you know where I am.”

  He walked out hoping she’d take a risk and knowing, for both of their sakes, that she probably wouldn’t.

  Chapter 7

  When Autumn left work that afternoon, Isaac’s door was closed. She had no idea if he was in there or not, and she certainly wasn’t going to knock. Not that he wanted to talk to her anyway.

  After she’d rejected him earlier, Autumn realized she had two choices: solve the case or fall in love. She was being paid to find answers, not hop into bed with Isaac. Although the prospect of hot sex with one of NYC’s wealthiest men was beyond thrilling, she had a feeling one night with him would never be enough.

  A relationship, even a brief one, wouldn’t be fair to either of them. Besides, she was far too much of a free spirit to be tied down, and she never knew where or when her next case would come along. There was something about digging into people’s lives to find the truth that eased her loneliness.

  Most of the time.

  Once outside the Paxton Building, she adjusted her tote bag, heavy with files she needed to review over the weekend. The sooner she discovered something wrong, some kind of misdoing to pin on Isaac, the better. But so far, the only thing he was guilty of was turning her on.

  The subway uptown, always unbearable, was even worse on a Friday afternoon, with everyone jostling to get wherever they were going. Her nerves were frazzled and her back ached, but not as much as her heart. She couldn’t wait to get home, relax and try to forget about Isaac.

  Autumn moved with the flow of humanity up the stairs onto Columbus Circle. Upon arriving at her apartment, she wanted to scream in frustration. One of the elevators was out of order and the other one was already filled to capacity with residents.

  Not including the penthouse levels, there were over fifty floors in her building. Autumn adjusted her bag, leaned against the mirrored wall and groaned. It looked like she was going to be waiting awhile.

  A few minutes later, two kids approached the elevators. One was a teenage girl who wore a smirk instead of a smile. The other was a boy who lagged slightly behind carrying two grocery bags. Autumn could tell by the strained look on his face that they were too heavy for him. Both children wore school uniforms and pricey designer coats, not with haughty confidence but as though their bodies didn’t belong in them.

  The boy frowned. “What’s wrong with the elevator?”

  “Can’t you read, stupid?” The girl scowled, pointing the sign. “It says it’s out of order.”

  “Signs can’t talk,” he retorted. “So who’s the real dummy?”

  The two started arguing and the decibels started elevating and Autumn wished she knew how to whistle through her fingers to get them to stop. But she didn’t. Nor did she have any experience with children. However, she did watch reruns of The Facts of Life.

  Autumn held up her hands as if she was directing traffic.

  “Children, children,” she intoned in her best impression of a housemother’s voice. “Now if you will just quiet down, the elevator will be here shortly, and we can all go home.”

  Even though she left out the milk-and-cookies part, which she knew was the standard bribe, they shut their mouths and stared at her.

  “I know another way up,” the boy blurted out, looking over his shoulder. “The doorman is busy. Let’s go.”

  He was either really convincing or Autumn was just tired of waiting, but she followed them around the corner and down a couple of hallways that she’d never seen before, until they stopped at an elevator she never knew existed.

  “What’s this? And yes, before you get smart, I know it’s an elevator.”

  “It’s for the penthouse apartments only,” he explained. “We never use it. Our dad won’t let us. He makes us ride in the regular elevators with everyone else.”

  His sister clucked her teeth. “That’s because we are like everyone else.”

 
“No, we’re not. Not anymore,” he insisted. “We’re rich!”

  Autumn blew out a breath. “Congratulations,” she interjected, not wanting to get in the middle of another argument. “Now, if you guys will excuse me, I don’t live in a penthouse, so I think I’ll just go back and see if the regular elevators are working.”

  She turned to leave and she heard the rustling of plastic.

  “Wait,” the boy called out, looping both bags through one hand. “Why don’t you come up with us? My sister is making dinner for my dad tonight. He can’t cook and sometimes we get tired of ordering takeout.”

  The girl rolled her eyes at her brother. “What would Dad say if you invited a perfect stranger into his home?”

  “It’s our home now, too,” the boy corrected. “And I think he’d thank us.”

  Autumn raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Why’s that?”

  “Because you’re really cute, and he’s really lonely.”

  She smiled at the sincerity in the boy’s voice. He seemed so eager to please, while his sister seemed the total opposite.

  “Stop crushing on her,” she ordered, obviously trying to embarrass him. “Dad doesn’t need you to play matchmaker.”

  “Why not?” he objected. “I’m a lot safer than a dating website and I don’t require a password.”

  Autumn burst out laughing. “Thank you for the invitation, but I really must be going.”

  The boy shrugged and pressed the elevator button. “Okay. But if you change your mind, my name is Devon and this is my sister, Deshauna. What’s your name?”

  “I’m Autumn. Pleased to meet you.”

  For once she was glad her hands were full, so she wouldn’t have to shake hands. Children were walking playgrounds for germs and she didn’t have the time to get sick right now. As if she ever did.

  The elevator doors opened and the kids got in.

  “Good luck with dinner and thanks again,” Autumn said patiently. By the time she finally got up to her apartment, she’d need two glasses of wine instead of one.

  The doors began to close. “He’s a nice guy,” Devon called out. “And his name is Isaac.”

  Autumn’s heart took a nosedive and she stared at the elevator in shock.

  And my cover is blown.

  * * *

  Isaac rolled down the window and leaned his head against the taxi’s backseat. He could have taken the subway but just didn’t want to deal with the hassle tonight. At least here he could be alone and have a chance to think before going home and dealing with whatever challenges his children had faced that day.

  The icy air hit his nostrils as the cab sped down the street. He breathed in deeply, trying to clear his mind of the woman who had so easily lit a fire within his heart and—just as easily—doused it that very afternoon. No woman he’d actively pursued had ever rejected him before. Why had she?

  Turning his head, he stared out of the window at the shops rolling by as they traveled down Fifth Avenue. The fancy storefronts, all lit up and glittering like diamonds, were filled with things most people couldn’t afford. They say money can’t buy love, but he sure as hell would pay just about anything to be with Autumn.

  It hardly mattered anymore. All he had to do was get through the Witterman pitch and he wouldn’t have to work with her again. She’d move down to the floor where all the other analysts were and he would rarely see her. The constant temptation to kiss her, to touch her, would hopefully go away. Still, if the ache in his chest and the bulge in his pants were any indication, he was starting to get the feeling that there was nothing as painful as letting something go before it even had a chance to begin.

  When he arrived at his apartment building, he paid the cab fare and greeted the doorman, instructing him to have his dry cleaning picked up early the following morning.

  As he rode the private elevator to his penthouse, his heart was heavy with regret for even thinking that he could have any kind of relationship with Autumn. When the doors opened, he palmed the lower half of his face in exasperation. For the first time ever, he’d actually forgotten to bring home dinner!

  “Hey, guys, where do you want to go to eat tonight?” he called out.

  He set his laptop bag down on the marble floor and wrinkled his nose at the scent of steak wafting through the air. And it didn’t smell burned.

  “Surprise!” his children shouted as he walked into the kitchen.

  Isaac was astonished at the sight of the round glass table, beautifully set for three with the china plates he’d bought years earlier thinking someday he’d use them, plus real, not plastic silverware. In the middle, a giant pitcher of lemonade with the actual lemons floating in it was surrounded by little votive candles.

  He turned his attention to his two children. “What is this?”

  “We made dinner,” Devon said. “Steak and mashed potatoes with gravy. A real man’s meal.”

  Deshauna rolled her eyes and nodded. “Yeah. Having takeout all the time gets old. So we decided to change things up a little bit.” She bit her lip and then said, almost shyly, “Is it okay that we did all this?”

  Isaac’s heart melted and he moved to wrap them in a hug. “It’s more than okay,” he assured. “It’s fantastic.”

  Ever since adopting Devon and Deshauna, he worried constantly that he wasn’t doing enough. Being enough.

  But maybe he was. Maybe the knowledge that he was there with them and for them forever was finally sinking in. Isaac wasn’t going away or abandoning them. Maybe that was all his children needed to finally realize that he loved them.

  They were no longer foster—they were family.

  He hugged them tighter. “I know I’m new at this father thing, and that one of those cooking shows would never hire me, but I’m so happy you guys are mine.”

  “We are too, Dad,” Devon said, his voice muffled against Isaac’s shoulder. “But I’ve got to get the steaks now.”

  “And you’re ruining my hair!” Deshauna shrieked.

  “Okay. Okay,” Isaac acquiesced, releasing them. “But be forewarned, if the meal is real good, I just might want to read you two a bedtime story.”

  Devon and Deshauna groaned and then got busy putting the food on the table while Isaac sat down. When everything was ready, he bowed his head and said grace, thanking God for his wonderful children. In his mind, he asked for strength where Autumn was concerned, grateful that thoughts of her were put on hold for now.

  Isaac cut into his steak and took a bite. It was surprisingly flavorful. The mashed potatoes were light and fluffy, and the gravy had just enough of a savory kick that he poured even more on his plate.

  “This is awesome. I guess all those hours watching food shows finally paid off!”

  “I have another surprise for you, Dad,” Devon said through a mouthful of food. “We found you a girl to date!”

  Isaac stopped chewing. “Who?”

  Devon slurped his lemonade and set his glass down. “Her name is Autumn and she’s really hot.”

  “Gross,” Deshauna huffed in disgust. They started to bicker back and forth, but Isaac barely heard a word.

  Devon couldn’t be talking about his Autumn. Could he?

  “Oh, really?” Isaac put down his fork and peered at his son. “And where did you meet this gorgeous creature?”

  “Right here in our building. She lives here. Isn’t that perfect?”

  Yes. Perfect.

  He cleared his throat, trying to buy time as both children looked at him expectantly. He had to play this right. Since he’d become a father, there hadn’t been a woman in his life. Yes, he wanted one. He wanted Autumn. But he had to play this right.

  “What did she say when you told her about me?”

  “She didn’t say anything,” Deshauna piped up. “She just ran.
”

  Isaac raised an eyebrow. Surely his daughter was exaggerating. “She ran?”

  “Well, not exactly, but Devon invited her to dinner and she said no,” Deshauna explained. “Then she ran.”

  “She had pretty hair, Dad. It was all curly.”

  “Her hair was all right,” Deshauna stated with a hint of jealousy. “It looked frizzy to me.”

  “It sounds like she wasn’t interested, kids. Thanks anyway. But you know there’s a lesson in all this. If someone runs away from you, you should run, too.”

  Too bad he wasn’t going to follow his own advice.

  Instead, he was going to follow his heart.

  * * *

  Later that evening after Devon and Deshauna were in bed, Isaac took a long, hot shower. Afterward he pulled on a white T-shirt and a pair of comfortable sweats and slid into his well-worn leather slippers.

  He took the private elevator downstairs to the lobby and spoke to the doorman. After giving the man a large tip, he got on the regular elevator up to the forty-eighth floor. He only hesitated a second before knocking on the door of apartment 3G.

  Autumn opened the door and nearly took his breath away. She was clad in an ivory robe that only accentuated her already-gorgeous skin tone. He could see a hint of pale yellow lace as she crossed her arms over her chest.

  “Isaac!”

  She actually seemed surprised to see him.

  He leaned against the doorway. “You opened that door pretty quickly. I hope you looked through the peephole. We do live in New York and you never know what kind of crazy could be lurking in the hallways.”

  Her hair was bunched up into some kind of messy bun. She tucked an errant strand behind her ear. “Of course I did,” she retorted, sounding irritated. “What are you doing here?”

  “I live in this building. Why didn’t you tell me you did, too?” he demanded, his voice echoing in the hallway. He knew he was being loud, but he couldn’t help it. He was angry.