Morgan Sanderson had her life all planned out, and it didn’t include meeting a cop while on vacation or falling in love with him. When he disappears their last night together with just a note, she gets on with her life, never expecting to see him again. Except for in the faces of their twin sons nine months later.
Ryan Cartwright has used his resources on the force for years to find the woman he hasn’t been able to forget. But Morgan Churchill doesn’t seem to exist. Until his brother comes up with the best lead he’s had in four years. Holiday, Vermont.
Ryan travels north determined to find what happened between them. What he discovers becomes a second chance at forever.
Morgan relaxed in the hammock her grandfather had hung for her mom back when she was a teenager, far from the week-long house party celebrating her grandparents’ sixtieth wedding anniversary, reading one of her favorite books, Pride and Prejudice.
There was just something about Mr. Darcy that made her want to be Elizabeth. Completely engrossed in the book, she didn’t notice she was no longer alone.
She heard a twig snap and lifted her head, looking around for the noise. Her breath caught in her lungs. Her heart raced.
A modern-day Mr. Darcy had just walked out of her book.
He was gorgeous.
Tall, he stood at least six-foot-four, as he looked to be as tall as her brother, Case. His skin was golden brown from spending lots of time outside in the sun. His hair was light brown with streaks of blond, more from the sun than from any salon. It was his face, however, that captured her — all angles and planes, a strong jaw, and high cheekbones hinting at an Aristocratic ancestry. And then his eyes, so brown and piercing, they made her think he could look into her soul. He wore shorts and a tee shirt, showing a physique that said he took care of his body. The tee shirt pulled across his chest and was tight around the biceps, enhancing the well-toned muscles.
He stopped next to the hammock and looked down at her, like he was examining something under a microscope. She’d long since grown used to the way men looked at her and her sister, Brynn.
At five-foot-ten they were taller than most of the woman in the family. According to her grandpa, her eyes were the color of the purple-grey heather flower in Ireland. She also had no real chest to speak of. The running joke in the family had always been, she wanted a hope chest in the hope she would get a chest. As she’d played basketball all throughout high school and during her undergrad years, she wasn’t too upset about the lack of chest, it would have just gotten in the way of her jump shot. She arched an eyebrow at him as he continued to stare at her without saying anything.
“I believe the party is back toward the house, not out here.” Morgan’s voice was deliberately icy. She had thought, by isolating herself outside and away from the main part of the party, she could avoid socializing.
Mr. Darcy flashed a smile, one she was certain he’d used to get women to do what he wanted. He sat down on the log by her hammock, ignoring the frost in her voice. “Yes, it is and that’s why I am here. Why are you out here by yourself and not at the party?”
She ignored the smile or at least pretended to, “Because I don’t have to be. As long as I’m occasionally seen, I can do what I want.”
As he extended his hand the corners of his lips lifted, revealing dimples she hadn’t seen before. “Ryan Cartwright.”
She took his hand and felt the sizzle all the way to her bones. “Morgan Churchill.” The way her body was reacting to him was unlike anything she’d ever experienced before.
“What are you reading?” He asked.
She held up her book. “Pride and Prejudice, hmm.” He then eyed the pile of books sitting on a stump by him. She watched silently as he read the titles, Sense and Sensibility, Emma, North and South, Wuthering Heights, Jane Eyre, Little Women. He raised an eyebrow. All of them were full of sticky notes and tabs, marking important places in them. “That is some reading you’re doing there.”
“Yes, it is some reading, so if you don’t mind I have to finish reading these books and complete my dissertation on the influence of nineteenth century heroes in modern literature by the end of the week.” Morgan went back to her book, giving him the illusion she’d just tuned him out, when in fact she was only too aware of him. He had an aura about him that made a woman dream of very naughty nights in his bed, one that screamed he knew all the secrets to a woman’s pleasure.
She had two passions, three if you counted her family — basketball and literature. Having achieved all of her basketball goals, she was now hard at work on her literature goal — to be a professor of literature.
She didn’t have time to be distracted by a real life Mr. Darcy.
He sat there a bit stunned at the way she had dismissed him. She was certain it was a first for him. After several minutes he stood and wandered away. She went back to her reading, breathing in a deep sigh of relief.
The next day, every time she looked up from her books, there he was staring at her, as though he was trying to figure her out. Considering how large her grandparents’ property was, this was no small feat. A part of her was a bit disconcerted by it, and another part of her was secretly thrilled. She’d managed to snag the attention of the sexiest man she’d ever met by ignoring him. Maybe all those lectures from her sister and cousins on how to snag a guy that she’d ignored, had sunk in. She knew he was interested from the looks he’d been shooting her from a polite distance away.
Her favorite thinking place was sitting at a table in her grandmother’s rose garden. She’d been certain he wouldn’t track her there, but no such luck. Though she’d never admit to anyone, she was secretly happy he’d been persistent in tracking her down. She closed her laptop with a definitive click and looked at Ryan. He was lounging against a tree some twenty feet from her.
“Is there a reason you are haunting me?” she called out. Ryan straightened away from the tree and walked toward the table.
“Why? Is it bothering you?” he asked.
“No, it isn’t. I am, however, curious as to why you are doing it.”
“Seeing as I haven’t had a female dismissal quite like you did since I was fifteen, you have me intrigued. I’m curious enough to figure you out.” Reaching the table, he sat down across from her.
Morgan gave him her best “you have no clue” smile, “Ever hear the one curiosity killed the cat?”
“Yes, but what knowledge did the cat gain before he died?”
She laughed. “I have to say I never thought of it quite like that. So, what do I have to do to get rid of you so I can finish what I am working on?”
“Spend the rest of the party with me as my date.”
“Nope, not going to happen. I don’t socialize at these fêtes, and if I did there would be way too much scrutiny on me.” Morgan stacked her things. She had a feeling he was going to be persistent about spending time with her.
“Okay, how about we spend time together away from guests, that way no one would be suspicious?”
“How much time?”
“The rest of the week.”
Morgan pretended to think about it for a few minutes. She couldn’t believe she was doing this. As long as they stayed away from guests it would be okay.
“All right, I’ll do it. However, I won’t meet you at the house. Meet me by the walkway leading to where all the cars are being parked tomorrow morning at nine.
When Ryan had accepted the invitation for a week of nothing but sailing, drinking and hanging out with friends from college, he’d had no idea he would end up at a house party of a couple who resembled his grandparents and their relationship.
All he’d wanted was to relax and decompress after a very stressful couple of months on the job, not spend his vacation constantly fending off advances from women, and ignoring pointed questions about his job from the men.
When he’d stumbled across the hammock on his first day there, he’d thought it was a godsend and spent a very enjoyable afternoon lazing in it, thinking of nothing.
When he’d gone back the next day he’d discovered sleeping beauty had commandeered it. She’d been lying there, a mountain of pillows surrounding her. The sun shone through the trees, creating a halo effect around the hammock. Her long legs were stretched out. God, he loved long legs on a woman. His blood hummed like it hadn’t in a long time.
With her face turned away from him, he’d used all his training to get closer without her noticing him. Then he accidentally stepped on a twig. He’d silently cursed, hoping she’d been so caught up in her book she wouldn’t notice. No such luck, as she lifted her head and her gaze swung toward him.
The piercing glare coming from the most gorgeous set of eyes he’d ever seen had rocked him to his core, drawing him in like a moth to a flame.
Ryan shook his head at that thought, like a moth to a flame. If the guys in his squad had heard him say it out loud he would never live it down, and his brother would be giving him shit about it for the rest of his life if he heard him say it.
At the slight rustling of leaves he turned toward the walkway and sucked in his breath. No matter how many times he’d seen her over the last two days, she still managed to steal his breath away. She had the tall lean lines of an athlete, and a face that kept him coming back to it every time he’d seen her.
She wasn’t one of those women who had to be done up at all times. She was quite comfortable going about with only a hint of make-up, and with her hair in a ponytail. For a guy raised with three sisters he’d learned at an early age about the importance of hair and makeup, whether he’d wanted to or not.
He’d never been attracted to simple but, as he watched Morgan approach wearing shorts, which showcased her incredibly long legs, a simple tee shirt with a hoodie tied around her waist and athletic shoes, he admitted to himself, on her it was perfect.
He took the picnic basket she carried and extended his arm to her. “What do you have here?”
“I thought a picnic on the beach would be good.” She took his arm as they moved to where he’d parked his Jeep.
“Sounds like a plan. How do you feel about driving up the coast and exploring some of the small towns?” Ryan stowed the picnic basket in the back and helped Morgan into the Jeep.
Morgan paused with a surprised look on her face. “That’s something I would love to do, but it isn’t what I expected you to suggest.”
The look on her face was one of pure innocence, belaying the sarcasm in her voice. As she looked at him he couldn’t resist and leaned forward, brushing her lips with his. A spark of electricity shot through him, making him want to sink into her and take more. He held himself back, however, instinctively knowing if he did more she would be out of the Jeep and buried back in her books.
He stepped back and looked at her, a bemused look on her face, like she couldn’t believe what just happened. Good, he thought to himself. It was only fair if she confused him, he should confuse her in return.
Ryan rounded the Jeep and climbed in. For the first time in a long time he was excited about something new that wasn’t work-related.
Morgan pulled her hair away from her face and turned to look at Ryan. He was a sneaky one. She had a feeling if she didn’t watch him closely he would sneak past her defenses. That kiss had caused a tingle to go throughout her body and settle low in her belly.
She’d never experienced that kind of sexual heat and tension.
“What part of Texas are you from?” she asked. The reaction she had to him baffled her. Maybe if she knew more about him she’d be able to figure it out.
“How’d you guess Texas?” he responded. Ryan gave her a shocked look.
“I have a thing for accents, plus one of my best friends is from Dallas.”
“I’m from a town about a hundred miles east of Dallas near the Louisiana border.” Ryan pulled into a parking lot and parked. He got out and went around the Jeep to help her get down.
He graciously extended his hand, which Morgan grasped hold of, as she climbed out of the Jeep. He kept hold of her hand as they strolled down the sidewalk.
She loved small towns and the interactions between the locals, especially this one. Ryan had chosen a town about ten minutes from her grandparents’ house, and one she was very familiar with. She could hear the shrieks and yells from the town square and park where the kids played. She nodded to the people she knew as they passed them.
“What’s an East Texas boy doing in New England?” She stopped to glance in the window of a popular art gallery, the painting in the window catching her eye. It was a painting depicting her favorite part of the Cape hanging on the wall inside the shop. The image was of a lighthouse in the distance, the waves crashing against the reef, and a sandy stretch of beach almost hidden from view.
Ryan leaned his shoulder against the window, shoving his hands into the pockets of his shorts. The move stretched the material of his shirt across his chest. The sight caused all the moisture in her mouth to disappear. She concentrated on the window display, praying he didn’t notice her elevated breathing and how her body was reacting to his.
“Yale. It’s a tradition in our family, we all go there. No matter what we are studying or whether or not we want to stay in Texas or Louisiana, everyone goes to Yale.” He laughed softly, “My sister Cami did not want to go to Yale.”
“How come?” Morgan asked.
“Her high school boyfriend was going to play football at Texas A&M so she applied there without anyone knowing. When her acceptance letter came, you could hear the yelling all over the ranch.”
Morgan stood transfixed, as she watched him share the memory. His eyes were hidden behind his sunglasses, but the grin he wore spoke volumes to her about how he felt about his sister.
Morgan turned and headed into the store, deciding she really did want the painting. “Where did she end up?”
“Yale, of course. She did her undergrad work there in three years and went straight to Texas A&M where her boyfriend was still playing football to begin work on her graduate degree. They were married a month after he graduated. She just had her first baby.” Affection and joy for his sister and her new baby evident in his voice.
“She sounds like someone who knows what she wants, and isn’t going to let anyone stop her.”
Ryan laughed, “You have that right.”
Morgan headed straight to the counter to make her purchase. Out of the corner of her eye she tracked Ryan as he wandered the gallery. He’d stopped in front of a painting, completely transfixed.
While the store clerk was wrapping her purchase in brown paper, Morgan turned to see what had caught his eye and could only stare. He’d stopped in front of a painting showing a woman lying on a picnic blanket with the movement of the grass showing a slight breeze. What transfixed them both, however, was the way the man in the painting was looking at the woman as she nursed the baby in her arms. The love and awe he had for them was visible on his face, and in his body language.
Morgan looked at Ryan to gauge his reaction. The naked longing on his face came as a shock to her. Most men she knew never showed their emotions, and Ryan’s were on his face. He wanted what was in the painting. She moved up to him and slid her hand into his, the move so casual it was the most natural thing for her to do.
He looked down at her, and Morgan stopped breathing. The hunger in his eyes became a pulse beating between them. Oh, how she wanted to act on the sexual heat coming off him, but that wasn’t her. But she needed to give him something — not what he wanted — but what she could give, so she leaned up and brushed her lips against his. She slipped her arms around him and snuggled in.
She held her breath, waiting to see how he would react. When his arms slid around her, she let out a sigh of contentment. The moment was perfection. It didn’t matter how long they’d known each other, it could have been six hours or six months, the intense feelings coming from both of them would still be there. She closed her eyes and let herself be.
The flash of a camera jolted them both.
“I’m sorry, I couldn’t resist.” The man with the camera extended his hand. “I’m Lucky Ward.”
Morgan stiffened, “The artist?” Lucky Ward was an amazing artist who’d made him stamp on the art world by showing the stark emotions of everyday life in vivid detail on his canvases. When she’d stepped inside, she’d had no idea this was his shop. She’d have to tell her mom and sister about it. They loved his paintings.
He laughed, “Yeah, sorry about the picture, but it was one of those moments that I had to capture on film.”
Ryan shook his hand, “No worries, man. You going to use it?” The emotion was still thick in his voice.
“I’m not sure yet. I never know what my next piece will be until I start to work on it. I take pictures of moments and places that strike a chord with me and then use them for inspiration.” He gestured to the painting they’d been staring at, “I took that picture almost twenty-five years ago. It was one of the very first pictures I took and it wasn’t very good at that, but it showed the emotions the man was feeling at the moment. I found it a couple of years ago and, for the couple’s fortieth wedding anniversary, I gave them the painting.”
Morgan looked from the painting to Lucky and back again. Her eyes met Ryan’s.
“It is one of the most powerful works I’ve ever seen.” Ryan broke the eye contact and glanced at Lucky, “They’re your parents?”
“Yes. The baby is my youngest brother.” Lucky walked over and brushed his fingers over the painting. “He’s currently stationed in Afghanistan.”
Morgan had a sudden thought, a gift she could give her sister, “If I was to give you a picture, could you paint it?”
“I normally don’t, but after the picture you just gave me I’m feeling generous. Bring the picture by and I’ll see what I can do.”
After the year her sister had had it was the perfect gift for her.
The jingle of bells had them all looking at the door as an older couple came in. “Please excuse me.” With that Lucky moved to help the couple who had come in, breaking the tension that had gripped the young couple.
Morgan felt she needed to restore the earlier lightheartedness of the day. She once again slid her hand into Ryan’s and flashed him a smile. “You never finished telling me how a Texas boy ended up in New England… You said college, however, I’m pretty sure you finished college a while ago. Why are you still here?”
“What makes you think I’m still here? Maybe I flew out for the week, or I like to vacation here?” He shot her a quick grin.
Morgan laughed at him, “Let’s see, the license plate on your Jeep is a Massachusetts license plate. It is too well-lived-in to be a rental, and there is what looks to be a gym bag and another bag in the back as well.”
“I think someone liked Nancy Drew as a kid. You’re quite the detective.” He clasped a hand to his heart and laughed.
She harrumphed at him and tapped his shoulder with her own. “Maybe I’m secretly a spy sent to infiltrate a house party, so I notice all the little details.” She paused for dramatic effect, making them both laugh. “Now are you going to answer me?”
“Why? I’m having too much fun teasing you.” He pulled her closer and draped his arm over her shoulder while keeping hold of her hand. He brushed a kiss across the top of her head. Morgan was sure it was an unconscious move, but one she was very certain he was aware of.
Morgan playfully shoved her elbow into his chest, making him laugh and hug her close.
“I’m still here because this is where I found my niche in the world.”
“You mean it wasn’t because you were tired of all the Bonanza jokes, what with the last name Cartwright, in Texas?”
“Ha, ha. My dad loves all those references. My mom likes to tease my brother and me that if he’d had his way, we would have been named Hoss, and Little Joe. Needless to say, we’re extremely grateful our mom put her foot down. He has a room in their house devoted to all things Bonanza, and we all indulge him by adding to it every birthday, Father’s Day, and Christmas. It’s become a game between me and my siblings on who can find the most obscure stuff from the show.”
Laughing at the image he’d given her of his father she asked, “And who has found the most obscure thing?”
“My sister, Jess. She met someone who knew someone who’d gone to church with the guy who played Hoss. She arranged to meet them and discovered they had the mug the guy had drank his beer from on the show. It was collecting dust, and they wanted to get rid of it. It is now collecting dust in my parents’ house.”
They saw the old-fashioned ice cream parlor sign and grinned at each other. Without saying a word they made their way into the store. Ice cream cones in hand, they made their way toward the park at the end of the block, careful not to drop melting scoops of frozen heaven from their cones. Taking a seat on a bench under the shade of an old oak tree, they watched the game of kickball taking place.
“So, what’s your niche in the world?” She asked, bringing them back to the conversation they’d had before getting sidetracked by Bonanza and ice cream.
Ryan settled into the bench, pulling Morgan close. He didn’t know what it was about her that made him want to tell her things he’d never told anyone outside of his family.
“In my family you go into one of a couple different professions. You’re a cattleman, an oil man or you choose something that will help build up those two things. I chose neither and am a cop. I also chose to go to Boston as I have some family there, and it isn’t Texas where my grandfather knows everyone within a three-hundred-mile-radius.” He casually ran his fingers through her ponytail, as they watched the kickball game.
There was nothing better on a lazy summer’s day than to relax by watching a ball game and a gorgeous woman at your side.
He saw everything that was going on in the park The older couple a few benches down from them feeding the birds, and the teenage boys, who were doing their best to impress the teenage girls with their developing bodies as they strutted around shirtless. There was a group of young mothers gathered around a cluster of picnic blankets watching their kids play.
This is why he did what he did … to make sure days like today continued to happen.
Ryan angled his body so he could watch Morgan eat her ice cream cone. As he watched her slowly lick the sides of the ice cream cone and then take the top of it into her mouth to suck, he stifled a groan. Watching her eat the ice cream was a session in torture.
He wanted to be that ice cream cone.
His blood boiled, and he clenched his hand in her ponytail as he let his imagination take them from the very public park bench to anywhere they could be alone and he could be on the receiving end of her mouth.
There was nothing hotter than a woman who was unconsciously sensual and Morgan was that. He could walk behind her all day just to watch her body move as she walked. The way she ate her ice cream was an exercise in torture. He watched as she leaned forward a bit, her tank top gapping open, allowing him a view of the tops of her breasts with a hint of lace over them. She leaned back and stretched those long gorgeous legs out before her. Tilting her head back, she slipped the cone into her mouth and sucked the remaining ice cream into her mouth, hollowing in her cheeks.
Images crashed into his brain one after another. Him, her, no one around. Her on her knees. Her with her legs wrapped around him. Her sitting in his lap.
A squeal from Morgan jarred him back to the present. He saw the ball heading for his head in time to throw up his hands to catch it.
“Sorry about that, Morg,” one of the girls from the kickball ran up.
Morgan laughed. Taking the ball from Ryan she handed it back, “No worries, Stef. Who’s winning?”
“The other team,” she paused and shot Morgan a calculating look. “However, if you joined our team we could kick their butts.”
Ryan watched as Morgan looked at the other team. He saw the gleam appear in her eyes.
“Is that who I think it is playing?” Morgan stood, and began untying the hoodie from her waist.
Stef grinned. “Yep and he’s being insufferable.”
Ryan looked at the players from both teams, not that he would recognize any of them, wanting to figure out who they were talking about. He grunted as Morgan slammed her hoodie into his chest.
“Hold this while I go help demoralize the other team.” She headed toward the game.
Ryan moved closer to the game, wanting to see this side of Morgan. He stood with the other spectators watching Morgan play. As an avid sports fan he knew pure athleticism when he saw it. The long graceful lines of her legs — he realized he was fixated on her legs — the way she ran across the field, made his heart race just a little faster.
He made idle conversation with those around him as watched what looked like a competition between Morgan and a guy on the opposite team. The insults they were throwing at each other, the hand gestures, the way they went after each other with a ruthless determination spoke of a long-time rivalry.
The score was tied and Morgan was up to kick. Those around him held their breath as the guy Morgan was determined to beat rolled the ball to her. She ran toward the ball and kicked. They all watched as the ball sailed past everyone as they dove to catch it. Morgan ran around the bases laughing all the while, pointing at the pitcher. Ryan moved to home plate. When Morgan crossed home plate, laughing with complete abandon and joy, she leapt into his arms and, wrapping her legs around his waist, she gave him a smacking kiss on his lips.
They both stilled, their breathing instantly labored. Morgan unhooked her legs and slid slowly down his body. Their eyes met, and they leaned toward each other, ignorant of all that was going on around them.
Suddenly Morgan was gone, pulled into a bear hug from behind. Before he could get mad he noticed the look on her face. The smile took over her whole face, her eyes were lit up with humor.
She knew these people. They were her friends.
Both teams gathered around her, talking and joking about how it always came down to those two when they played. He backed up and leaned against a pole, watching everything.
Morgan eventually separated herself from the group, and made her way back to him.
“Everyone is going down to the beach to have a bonfire and party. Would you like to go? I know we had other plans in mind.” She turned and waved to someone over her shoulder when her name was called.
“Sounds like fun,” Ryan leaned out and put her hoodie around her waist, drawing her into him. “So long as it means more time with you, I don’t care. Will there be food, though? That is the question.”
She laughed resting her head on his chest. “Yes, there will be, plus I have what is in the picnic basket — we can eat on the way.”
Hours later Morgan couldn’t believe how well Ryan slid into place with her friends. She’d been coming to the Cape her entire life. She’d grown up with the local kids. Her family had insisted on being a part of the community and that meant summer sports and activities in town. It had never mattered to them she went to school somewhere else. When she was here she was part of the community.
When Ryan had been asked who he was there with and said Morgan Churchill, no one had given her away. They all knew why the girls in her family used that last name with anyone new. They’d been there when her cousin Lucie’s fiancée had been exposed as a con man after her name and money.
She watched him play a game of football with the other guys and wondered once again how come he was with her. She’d seen some of the female guests at the house party her grandparents were having this week.
A female body sat down each side of her and arms went around her shoulder.
“So, where did you meet Mr. Gorgeous?” Stef casually asked her, keeping her eye on the game.
“Yes, do tell. Inquiring minds want to know, as we want one for ourselves?” Toni sat down on the other side of her and squeezed her in a quick side hug.
“Um, Toni, aren’t you with Brendan? I could have sworn I heard my aunt telling my mom he finally got you to agree to be his girlfriend?” Morgan wound her arms through theirs, linking them all together.
“Yeah, so what, doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy the view before me. Anyways I’m not speaking to him right now.” She grumbled. “And don’t even think about distracting us from our question.”
“Hey, it isn’t his fault he was blinded by testosterone and a need to pound all of his female relatives into the ground in any sport. It comes from being a Sanderson. He’s still reeling from the loss at last year’s family baseball game.”
Stef grinned, “I remember that, I was with Case during that time and, boy, was he pissed. He needed lots of solace.” She winked at them and wiggled her eyebrows, “If you catch my meaning.”
“EEWWW, that’s my brother and just gross to think about.” Morgan shivered.
Toni slapped her knee, “Stop stalling and tell us.”
Morgan told them how he’d found her two days ago at the hammock and how, the day before, he had stalked her until she agreed to spend time with him. They both sighed appropriately and looked out at the game.
The game ended with Ryan’s team winning, and all the guys wanting food and beer — in that order, her cousin Brendan informed them, with all the guys nodding their heads in agreement.
As the night wore on, everyone paired up into their prospective couples, snuggling under blankets that had been brought out. Morgan silently made her way down to the edge of the water. She watched the water move in and out, thinking over her day.
When she had started out that morning with Ryan she’d been unsure what was going to happen. Now, however, she couldn’t ignore the spark that went off in her body every time Ryan was near, and how being with him was the most natural thing in the world.
Like she was made for him, and him for her.
Arms stole around her, and a chin rested on her head. There was no need to turn around. She knew who it was. She took a deep breath, inhaling the cool ocean breeze, and the muskiness — a mixture of sweat and sea air — that coated Ryan’s skin. She relaxed into his embrace.
Time stopped as they stood there.
By unspoken agreement, they turned and walked down the beach, their arms around each other, her head nestled into his shoulder. They stopped when the noise of the group was a slight buzz in the air, but the bonfire still visible. Ryan sat down in the sand and pulled her down in front of him. He settled her in front of him, her back to his chest, arms wrapped around her, chin resting on her head.
He began to nuzzle her head, pressing kisses to her ear, her neck, her jaw. She turned her body to face him, draping her arms around his neck. He spread his hands on her waist. Their eyes met, they leaned in, not breaking the eye contact, and their lips met. At first hesitant, and then consumed by a need to have everything.
Morgan’s eyes drifted down as she gave herself over to the sensations coursing through her body. Their tongues met and dueled. Ryan sucked her lower lip into his mouth and bit down gently. Their hands roamed each other’s bodies. The fire in their blood consumed them both, leaving their burgeoning emotions exposed.
Ryan pulled her closer, his hand on her thighs moving her legs to wrap around his waist, he settled her onto him. Chest to chest, heat to heat. His hands sweeping her body, not knowing where to stop, needing to feel everything.
They slowly parted, chests heaving, breathing heavily.
Ryan leaned his head against her forehead, unwilling to break the contact with her.
“We need to head back.” Morgan nodded her head against his, tightening her arms around his neck.
End of Excerpt
“Second Chance at Forever” is a feel-good romance. It isn’t overly complicated, but this is part of its charm. – Romance Novel News
Heather Lire had me laughing out loud, smiling, crying and even sighing with happiness at any given time while I read this book. – Blogging by Liza