by Nia Arthurs
She’s tiny.
Barely hits my chest.
But she feels right.
Like she belongs there.
Right next to me.
“You’re infuriating,” I whisper.
Her smile gets wider on my chest and I feel it all the way in my heart.
16
Kaz
“We’re just friends,” I insist, glancing at the phone that’s sitting on the kitchen counter while stirring a bubbling pot of soup. “Morgan sees me like a little sister.”
“Girl, that man does not look at you like you’re his sister. Are you blind?”
“His pet then.”
“That’s a no from me.”
“I’m a project he’s working on.”
“Or working over.”
“For the hundredth time, it’s not like that.” I think about Morgan’s expression in the parking lot of the hospital yesterday.
He never told me outright, but I get the feeling he really loved the woman who died. His heart is still with her and losing her left a hole in his chest.
I don’t think anyone can fill it again.
Especially not me.
“I know what I’m feeling,” Ashley insists.
“That weird cramp in your left boob? You should check on that, you know. Make sure it’s not anything serious.”
“Laugh now, Kaz. I’ve never been wrong.”
“Well, you are this time.” I take a small spoon. Dip it into the brew. Sip.
Mm.
It’s perfect.
“He took on a biker gang for you.”
“Oh gosh—would you stop being overdramatic? It was not a gang. Howard and his crew are just a group of creepy retirees who like riding bikes and wearing leather. It’s not like they’re actually tied to any organizations—”
“Morgan didn’t know that!”
She’s got me there. “True…”
“He risked his life to defend you and you’re still convinced there’s nothing going on?”
I turn the dial on Ashley’s stove and watch the flames simmer down before adding thinly chopped cabbage. “I thought you called to check if I was okay after getting fired yesterday?”
“I’ll get to that.”
I laugh.
“But since you rushed me, how are you doing, Kaz?”
“I’m okay. It’s strange having free time after school, but I’m trying not to panic. It’s like a mini-vacation.” I glance behind me at her messy living room. “I even managed to do some chores. I swept and mopped.” I think about my old couch and the battered coffee table that’s polished to a shine. “Not that it did much,” I mumble, wishing for the hundredth time that I could afford to redecorate.
There’s so much about my old life that I took for granted, starting with the simplest of things. Like my Egyptian cotton sheets. My Queen-sized bed. My fuzzy slippers. My flat screen TV. My waffle iron.
Lord, my waffle iron.
With everything on my plate, I can’t even afford to buy a measly appliance. Turns out, being poor sucks.
Who knew?
“I’m proud of you,” Ashley says.
“Thanks.”
“Are you moving to another restaurant?”
“I haven’t started looking yet.” I click the dial. Watch the flame die. “It’s a little nerve-wracking. I’ve never gone job hunting before.”
“Then how did you get stuck at our diner?”
“Let’s say I… fell into it.” I move the phone to my bedroom and open my closet to peruse the few articles of clothes hung up in there. “Even if I won’t miss skating around in that ugly uniform, I’ll miss you, Ash.”
“It’s not like I’m dead. We can still hang out after work.”
“When? You’re always busy dating.”
“I’m single, remember?”
“Which is code for ‘I’m spending every weekend from here on out at the club’.”
“You know me so well.” She chuckles and then squeals. “Kaz!”
“What?”
“I just had a great idea. Why don’t you come with me?”
I pull out a white T-shirt and my favorite pair of black leather shorts that I grabbed at Goodwill for an absolute steal. “Sure. When? Tonight?”
“Are you serious?” Her voice drips with shock. “You will?”
I shrug. Why not? Miles loved going out, but he never invited me to join him. It’ll be nice to take a break and enjoy dancing for myself. See what Miles liked so much.
“Girl, I’m pleasantly surprised. I thought you were the mousy type.”
“I love to dance,” I admit.
“Then you’ll love this place.”
After hammering out the details and promising Ashley that I absolutely will not change my mind about this, I leave her apartment with my soup in the metal pot.
When I get home, I hop in the shower. The warm water soothes my tired muscles. After cleaning all day, I’m aching everywhere.
Next, I grab my dollar-store shampoo and conditioner, bemoaning the loss of my expensive hair moisturizers back home. Getting used to living in an apartment the size of my old bathroom was easy. Living without my hair products? Impossible.
With a sigh, I finish my routine and throw in some gel so my curls pop. I’m grateful that, even in this world, my coils work with me if given a bit of love.
After dressing, I return to the kitchen. The soup is cool enough for me to transfer into a plastic container. I get everything prepared and then place it into a large paper bag.
Grabbing my purse, I head to the door. On the way, I catch my reflection in the mirror and turn back to put on some lip gloss. A few more seconds of primping delays my exit. I don’t know why I’m fussing with my appearance, but I suddenly don’t want to face Morgan completely bare-faced.
See? There’s something between you two.
I push Ashley’s voice out of my head. There’s nothing between me and Morgan. And there never will be.
I’m a simple girl with simple tastes. Since I can remember, my life has been defined by two things:
I’m Miles Griffin’s fiancé.
I will be Miles Griffin’s wife.
That’s it. There’s no room for deviation.
I walk to the bus stop and catch a line to Morgan’s neighborhood. His car’s in the driveway so I know he’s home. With a deep breath, I stride to the garage and knock on the door.
Pavel peers at me through the top of the glass. His eyes widen and he quickly presses the button, letting me in.
“Hey.” I wave nervously. “The gate was open.”
To my surprise, Pavel wraps me in a warm hug. I’m caught off guard for a second but smile and squeeze him back.
“We were expecting McCarthy,” Pavel says, stepping away. “But this is a pleasant surprise.”
“Are you working on the doorway today?”
“He’s here everyday,” a familiar voice says.
I peer past Pavel’s broad frame and spot Morgan sitting behind the computer. His hair falls messily over his forehead as if he hasn’t brushed it since rolling out of bed. He’s in a blue T-shirt and long gym pants, but his green eyes are so commanding he might as well be wearing a business suit.
Unable to stand the weight of his lingering gaze, I drop my eyes. Even so, I can feel his intense study and my stomach flutters.
I glance up again.
Catch sight of his flexing biceps.
A memory of being in Morgan’s arms flashes through my mind and heat flares through my body.
“I need to work hard to get Little One home.” Pavel drops his paw over my shoulder and gives me another hug. I try not to dig too deeply into why Pavel’s hugs feel friendly while Morgan’s set me on fire.
Morgan scowls in the direction of Pavel’s arm. “Why are you here, Kaz?”
“To check on you.”
“I’m busy.”
“I can see that.” I shake my head. “You’re supposed to be in bed.”
He gestures to his laptop. “The parts for the doorway are coming next week and these calculations need to be solved by then.”
“Not an excuse.”
Morgan smirks. “When did you get so bossy?”
“Yesterday. After hearing about your stomach ulcer.”
Pavel draws back. “What? You’re sick?”
“He didn’t tell you?”
“The kid's been running around like a madman all morning. I had no idea.”
“I’m perfectly okay.”
“No, you’re not. I brought soup that’s supposed to be really light on the stomach.” Lifting the bag, I jerk it in Morgan’s direction. “Have you eaten today?”
His expression softens. “You made that for me?”
“That’s nice of you, Little One.” Pavel takes the bag in his giant fingers. “Smells delicious.”
Morgan marches over and grabs it. “It’s mine.”
“I made enough to share.”
“See?” Pavel flicks an eyebrow up. “Don’t be stingy.”
The scowl returns to Morgan’s face.
I laugh. “Why don’t we head inside and I’ll share it out.”
“Sounds great,” Pavel says eagerly.
Morgan hands the soup over to me. “I’ll eat later.”
“You need food to keep up your energy.”
Morgan ignores me and keeps tapping on his keyboard.
“Hello?” I wave my free hand in his face.
“You two enjoy your meal,” Morgan says.
For the love of… I slap the soup into Pavel’s stomach, eyes on Morgan. “Take that into the kitchen, will you?”
Pavel hurries away, eager to get far away from us.
I storm over to Morgan’s table. “What is it now?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You’re sulking.” I fold my arms over my chest.
“I don’t sulk.”
“You do sulk. Often.”
He scoffs.
“Are you upset to see me?”
A muscle in his jaw clenches. “Of course not. I’m just busy.”
The sound of his clacking keyboard buzzes in my ear.
Letting out a disgusted huff, I turn away from the table and start to walk off when Morgan grabs my wrist and hauls me back. “Wait, Kaz…”
As he spins me around to face him, I stumble on a part for the doorway and fall sideways. A grunt slips past his lips as Morgan struggles to right me.
He teeters, losing his balance.
My forward momentum follows his.
We both crash to the ground.
Me on his chest.
His arms around my waist.
My lips on his.
17
Morgan
Kaz’s body crashes into mine. My first instinct is to hold her up, but I’m too unsteady to centre my footing and gravity ends up dragging me by the collar and pummelling me into the tiles.
As I fall, Kaz tumbles after me.
In mid-air, my hands slide down to her waist.
I crush her to me.
Hold her close.
Protect her as best as I can.
My back thuds against hard tiles. The slap of her body on mine knocks the breath out of me. As the ricochet of my head slaps the ground and then bounces back up, hers shoots down to meet me. Our lips crashing together steals what little oxygen I had left.
The kiss is unintended and harsh.
Just like the simmering passion I’ve been trying and failing to cope with.
Kaz’s eyes spring wide. I can see into them like I’m holding them up to a microscope. Brown irises that have the power to suck a man deep into an abyss. Soft curls that graze my forehead. Soft, glossy lips.
Damn.
She’s beautiful.
Looking at her up close, I really can’t deny it.
For a moment, we just lie there.
The warmth of her body overwhelms me.
That sweet citrusy scent fills my nostrils.
She rubs against me.
Just a little.
As if she’s trying to get up but doesn’t have the strength or the will.
I respond by tightening my hold on her. Growling out a silent disapproval.
She remains in place, looking down at me with darkening eyes.
Every inch of me begins to throb.
My body begs for more of her.
It’s a primal response.
A familiar, desperate urgency.
I know she can feel it.
Feel me.
She doesn’t move.
Doesn’t flinch.
Damn.
Those eyes aren’t afraid.
Could she be feeling the same way?
I lift one hand to her cheek. Let my thumb swirl against her dark skin. Her thick eyelashes flutter down and she lets out a quiet sigh that’s filled with pleasure.
My pulse races as I note her softening response. I drape the pads of my fingers down to her small chin and then back up to brush the fleshy part of her ear. Her fingers tighten on my arm as if urging me on.
Sizzling pleasure tangles with my better senses. Quieting the noise. Snatching the throats of all the alarm bells that scream for me to get the hell up and away from this girl.
She’s engaged.
She belongs to another world.
She’s leaving.
She’s leaving.
But the longer we touch, the more the noise fades.
The more I drown in her eyes.
In her scent.
In her presence.
I feel like I’m losing a war I didn’t even know I was fighting. Like the walls I’ve built to keep the pain from overwhelming me a second time are being rocked at their foundations.
I know if I’m not careful she’ll tear them apart brick by brick. And the wall will crumble. Right at Kaz’s feet.
But, in this moment, I don’t care.
The world, the past, everything around us fades.
It’s just me and Kaz.
Nothing between us.
My hands tighten on her hips.
Drive her even closer to me.
She’s so small.
So sweet.
It feels like I’m snatching a piece of heaven to have her against me. That perfect mouth touched mine by accident. And I want it again.
I want to drape my fingers over those trim thighs.
Roll those leather shorts to her ankles.
Want to pull her into me.
Under me.
Soak in her lips.
Her tongue.
Her taste.
But before I can even entertain the thought, the garage door creaks loudly.
Someone’s about to walk in.
Kaz jumps to her feet. Backing away like I’m a serial killer with a machine gun, she holds a wrist to her lips and stares at me.
Horror creeps into her expression, slowly eclipsing the desire flashing in her eyes.
McCarthy bounces inside. “Gate was open!” He stops short when he sees Kaz. A big grin lighting up his wrinkled face, McCarthy throws his arms wide. “Kaz! I didn’t know you’d be here.”
She gives him a tight-lipped smile.
McCarthy turns. Spots me on the floor. “Morgan? What are you doing down there?”
“Nothing.”
His brows wrinkle. “What’s going on?”
“We were just heading inside to have lunch. McCarthy, have you eaten yet?” Kaz scrambles to the door leading into the house. “I brought soup.”
He pumps his fist. “I never turn down free food.”
“I’ll see if Pavel was kind enough to leave any for you two.”
“You left that guy alone with…?” McCarthy shoots her a worried look. “How long ago?”
They dash away, leaving me alone to gather my composure. A few breaths do nothing to calm me down. What I need right now is a cold shower, but slipping away to the bathroom is far too obvious.
Wit
h a sigh, I head to the kitchen in search of a cold glass of water. Hopefully, that’ll bring my temperature down enough. I’ll save the cold shower for later when Pavel, Kaz, and McCarthy are gone.
Laughter greets me before I turn the corner. Pavel and McCarthy lounge around the table in the dining room, both of them watching Kaz like she holds the stars and the moon.
Kaz smiles softly, sitting between them, a queen holding court. She dips her head as they both ply her with compliments about the soup.
I clear my throat as I walk in.
She glances up and her lips go flat.
Pavel pushes out a chair with his foot. “What took you so long?”
I move to the fridge. Open it. Grab a bottle of cold water. “What’s so funny?”
“Nothing,” Kaz says quickly.
I arch an eyebrow really?
She scrunches her nose in response.
“Don’t tell my wife, Kaz,” McCarthy sticks his spoon into his bowl, “but this is the best soup I’ve ever tasted.”
Pavel offers a tight nod in agreement.
“It was nothing.”
“Only skilled chefs say that.” McCarthy laughs.
I stride over to the table and peer at the soup in the container. Pieces of beef and chicken float around slices of carrots, cabbages and potatoes. It smells divine and my stomach grumbles impatiently.
“Did your mother teach you how to cook, Kaz?” Pavel asks.
“Sort of. I had a private tutor.”
I grab the ladle and dunk the soup into my plate. My first taste blows me away. I glance at Kaz, ready to let her know that she’s amazing, but she’s not looking at me.
“Mom said I needed to learn to cook if I want to get married,” Kaz is telling Pavel.
Pavel chuckles. “Whoever he is, he’ll be a lucky guy.”
She pulls her lips in and glances at me.
My stomach tightens.
The soup turns to dust in my mouth.
“Well…” Pavel rises. “I should get back.”
McCarthy springs up too. “I’ll come with you. I think I found a solution to the velocity issues we faced before. If we can strengthen the core of the vortex suspension with…” Their voices fade as they leave the kitchen.
A moment later, the door to the garage bangs shut.
Kaz squirms.
I lean back and study her. “You okay?”