Morgan's Surprise: Powertools, Book 2 Read online

  Damn, he was screwed. He’d planned to take things slow, but weeks of keeping his distance threatened his restraint. He forced his grip to relax, afraid of spooking her again.

  “Everything okay?” Morgan’s cherry-scented breath tickled the side of his neck as she leaned closer to speak over the din of the throng and the music belting out of the local radio station’s amplifiers.

  “Uh…yeah.” He stifled a groan. “Hoping you like what I have planned.”

  “Planned?” She tilted her head then peeked up at him from beneath the long, dark lashes that emphasized her gorgeous, dove-grey eyes. “I thought we were going to hang out at the festival?”

  “Something like that.” Joe grinned at the anticipation in her glance. He loved delighting her with little things and hoped she’d react as well to what he had in store for their evening. The way she lit up shifted something in his gut. And made him wonder about the man she’d nearly married last year. What kind of damage had that asshole inflicted?

  Kate had refused to give him details no matter how hard he’d pressed, but it was clear the prick had hurt Morgan. Deeply. He intended to try his best to erase the sadness he’d sensed lingering inside her—hoped she’d let him be more than a rebound guy. But he’d settle for healing if he had to. If he could. It infuriated him to see such an amazing woman hiding from the world and herself.

  One step at a time, buddy.

  “How about we start with a hay ride?”

  Oh crap! Morgan blushed at the suggestion. Had Joe plucked the dirty thought from her mind yesterday? If she were so transparent, why would he pursue her instead of shoving her away like Craig had when he’d finally realized all she desired?

  “Are you allergic to hay or something?”

  She hadn’t realized she’d stopped dead in her tracks until the pressure of his warm fingers singed the back of her arm.

  “Uh, no. Sorry.” Morgan studied the tiny scuff on the toe of her black leather boots. She hadn’t worn them in quite a while, but the extra height afforded by the stiletto heels eliminated some of the disparity between her and Joe. In the commotion of preparation for the festival, she hadn’t had time to search for polish.

  “Why do I make you so uncomfortable?” His tense tone drew her gaze to his handsome, if rugged, face. The corners of his plump lips pinched together as though he hadn’t meant to speak aloud. “I would never do anything you don’t want. But, if you’re more comfortable staying around here that’s fine too.”

  Morgan couldn’t stop herself from turning into the solid bulk of his chest and giving him a quick, one-armed hug. “Thanks for offering, but that’s not necessary. I trust you.”

  Crazy but true.

  She’d spent most of the summer with this man, alone as they worked on her store or surrounded by his equally burly friends. Funny how they’d never once intimidated her in the cramped space. Around them, she felt safe.

  His smile answered for him as he dropped a kiss on her forehead. They resumed their leisurely pace toward the edge of the gravel lot where several tractors towing platforms, ringed with hay, waited for a full load of passengers. His knuckles stroked the sensitive space between her fingers as he held them in a loose grip.

  A mix of children hopped up on candy, parents enjoying the brisk but not too chilly evening and young couples out for an evening of local entertainment piled into the wagon. Joe paused to boost a straggling kid onto the loose bales before leaping up himself. He turned and offered his hand. She gladly accepted. He tugged her into his arms as a few women nudged over to make room for his wide shoulders. When it looked like they’d run out of space, Morgan peeked toward the next wagon.

  Instead of making a move in that direction, Joe settled in the gap remaining then scooped her into his lap before she could object. Not that she would have. The leather of his jacket smelled divine and quickly warmed with the heat of her cheek, pressed to the supple material. The woman to their right shot Morgan an envious grin before resuming her conversation with her friends.

  The cramped space forced Morgan’s hands to land against the taut muscles of Joe’s chest beneath his thin T-shirt. Defined lines tempted her to trace them downward to the ridges of his abdomen, but she resisted. Barely.

  “Comfortable?” He nuzzled her temple while his hands ran along the length of her spine. One settled on her knee, and the other on her waist, for several seconds before she remembered to respond with words instead of a simple purr.

  “Very.” Holy shit. Had that husky sigh come from her? Thank God for their chaperones or she might have been tempted to throw decorum out the window and beg Joe to touch her more intimately right here and now.

  “Blanket?”

  Morgan blinked up at the attendant waving a quilt in their direction.

  “Sure.” Joe winked when her mouth gaped into a giant O. “Wouldn’t want you to catch a chill.”

  Between the helpful older man and her date, they bundled her under the well-worn cover in a matter of moments—right along with Joe’s wandering fingers. She laughed when he traced the dip of her side beneath the hem of her sweater. Amid the banter of the other passengers, no one seemed to notice.

  Her brows rose when Joe’s palm cupped her ribcage, the side of his hand brushing the underside of her breast. No way could his touch be accidental. The warm hold soothed her. She relaxed further into the cushion of his thighs, chest and arms.

  Joe flashed a terrible imitation of an innocent grin then proceeded to ask her questions about the new assortment she’d planned in order to capitalize on the change of seasons. They talked about the successes and failures of her recent product testing as the tractor began to pull them along the bumpy farm grounds toward the pumpkin patch.

  To avoid embarrassing herself, she thought of things she had to do this week. That way she might be able to ignore the contact of their bodies shifting against each other and the hard length of Joe’s denim-clad erection at her hip.

  Before she left tonight, she’d snag a basketful of local produce to use in the tarts she’d unveil this week. “Do you like pumpkins? I have some new recipes I’d like to try if you don’t mind being my guinea pig.”

  Her question came out more like a squeak.

  “I’ll eat anything of yours. After tonight, I have a feeling pumpkins may be my new favorite vegetable.”

  The children at the front of the wagon sang off-key loud enough she couldn’t swear she’d heard him right. Before she could clarify, the cart lurched to a halt.

  “I think this is our stop.”

  “Huh?”

  “We’re getting out. Come on, you’ll see.” Joe set her on her feet as the attendant collected their cover.

  “Don’t forget, the last ride comes by at midnight. After that you’re on your own to make it back to your cars. If they haven’t turned into pumpkins by then.” The man laughed at his own joke.

  Joe planted one hand on the rail then leapt to the ground with a hell of a lot more grace than she could muster. He wrapped his hands around her waist then lifted her from the wagon as though she weighed about as much as a bag of confectioner’s sugar.

  Her body slid along every hard inch of his on the way down.

  Oh my.

  The man in the wagon tossed Joe a flashlight then trundled off into the dark toward the main barns they’d started at. In the wake of the raucous gathering and the sputtering diesel engine, the still night rang in her ears. Vines curled across the ground, their leaves rustling in the soft breeze.

  They stood in the middle of the farm’s pumpkin patch listening to each other breathe for several heartbeats.

  “Okay?” Joe spoke softly but his gentle question might as well have been gunfire. It sliced through the quiet. “Your phone works out here if you want to call the cops on me for abducting you or have Mike kick my ass.”

  “Not necessary.” She shivered a little, but it had nothing to do with fear and everything to do with the excitement of being truly alone with the man she�
�d been dreaming of for weeks. Her curiosity grew by the second. “What are we doing out here?”

  “Right this way, you’ll see.” Again he took her hand, entwining their fingers. Suddenly it was enough to be here, with him, walking side by side along a slightly wider row in the field.

  A beam of light swept from edge to edge, guiding Morgan out of danger of twisting an ankle in her ridiculous boots as long as she kept to her toes. The heels made her calves look fantastic, but had no place in the tilled dirt.

  The row narrowed, forcing her behind Joe. She hummed when he tucked her fingers into the waistband of his jeans. So warm. But even that distance made the walk treacherous in the moonlight.

  Rocks and divots in the earth waited to trip her. She stumbled a bit before her eyes adjusted after the bright white of the flashlight. Joe stopped in front of her. She plastered herself along his backside before she could reverse her momentum. Pure male strength greeted every inch of her from the hard tips of her breasts to the soft curve of her belly, which met his firm ass.

  Morgan took a step away, thanking all the powers of the universe he couldn’t spot her face flaming in the shadows or smell the scent of her instant arousal. Instead of continuing on, Joe crouched, holding his arms out from his sides.

  “Hop on. It’s not far from here but I don’t want to spoil the fun before it’s begun.”

  When she simply stood and gawked, he glanced over his shoulder.

  “What, you don’t like the idea of riding me?”

  Jesus. It was either admit she enjoyed the thought all too much or pretend her panties hadn’t drenched at their collision and his naughty implication. Without another objection, she climbed onboard.

  The powerful shift of his torso between her thighs had her groaning before she could prevent the sound from escaping. His fingers stroked the back of her knees. The motion, designed to soothe, instigated a hormonal riot of massive proportions.

  “Too fast?” Joe slowed to a pace that jostled her less but caressed her core with each tread of his long stride.

  She didn’t attempt to answer. Clinging tighter to his sculpted chest, laying her head on his solid shoulder and surrendering to her hunger before it raged out of control seemed wiser. Her lips brushed his neck with each step, but sensory overload prevented her from fidgeting. If she moved her head, her rock-hard nipples would stroke his shoulder blades. If she adjusted her hips, her steaming pussy would graze his lower back.

  Why was that a bad idea again?

  Her tongue nipped out to taste Joe’s nape. Salty spice and oak. He cleared his throat. Could she make it hard for him to speak too?

  God she hoped so.

  “We’re here.” He released her thighs slow enough she had time to ensure her footing despite her wobbly legs. She relinquished her hold on him one finger at a time. Too bad their destination hadn’t been another five miles, or five hundred, away.

  Joe turned to face her, blocking the view behind him. He took her hands in his, his thumbs brushing the sensitive centers of her palms. Then he lifted them over her eyes. “Don’t peek. Give me a minute, okay?”

  “Would now be a good time to tell you the dark isn’t my favorite thing?”

  “I’ll be right here.” The deep timbre of his voice continued to croon to her as he moved to the left then the right, a little further away then close again, so she never felt alone.

  A whoosh carried to her ears a moment before heat and orange light washed over her cheeks.

  “Can I look now?”

  “Sure.” His breath teased her face as he took his place behind her, wrapping an arm around her waist and drawing her back against his chest.

  Morgan peeked between her fingers. “Holy crap!”

  The digits slammed closed once more. That couldn’t have been what it looked like. She must be dreaming again. But when she opened her eyes, his surprise hadn’t vanished. Her jaw hung open far enough to swallow a handful of bugs. Fortunately, the brisk air kept them away.

  “Is that a good holy crap or a bad holy crap?”

  She couldn’t answer immediately. A knot as big as a squash grew in her throat as she scanned the small pavilion sheltering them from the chill. A fire pit blazed in the center of the space, perfuming the air with the scent of applewood from the neighboring orchard.

  Carved pumpkin lanterns of every size and shape ringed the perimeter of the cement-slab floor, hung from wires over the rafters and perched on sporadic wooden pillars. A few more made an elaborate centerpiece for the picnic table, laden with Indian corn, gourds, cider and other autumn treats. Geometric shapes glowed and bobbed with the radiance of the tea lights within. Warmth and welcome washed the entire space.

  “You did all this for me?” She studied one of the beautiful designs so he couldn’t see the sheen of moisture in her eyes.

  “I did it for us,” he whispered into her ear a moment before he cupped her chin in his fingers then angled her jaw until she couldn’t avoid the sincerity in his gaze. “I wanted our first time together to be special. As special for you as I know it will be for me.”

  Chapter Three

  “First time?” Morgan didn’t object, really. She’d lusted after the man for weeks, but she hadn’t expected him to put it all on the line like that. Or to make the molten desire flowing between them so personal. Why couldn’t she be more like him?

  “Shit. I didn’t mean that like it sounded, cupcake. I meant our first date, our first intimate conversation, our first dinner. Maybe our first real kiss.” When she still didn’t say anything, he sputtered. “Unless… I mean, I want you Morgan. Whatever you’ll take from me is yours. I hoped, but never think I assumed.”

  “God, how do you do that?”

  “Put my foot in my mouth? It’s pretty easy.” He laughed. “I have a lot of practice.”

  “No. You distill complicated issues to their essence. I would have worried for three days about how to say what you just did—and probably would have bungled it anyway or lost my nerve—but you follow your instincts and they never lead you wrong. I really admire that about you, Joe.”

  “I’m a simple man.” He scrubbed his hands over his cheeks. Were they red from the fire, or from her praise?

  “You’re exactly the kind of man I like. Direct. Honest without being harsh. Strong and generous. They’re all great qualities.” She smiled. “I never have to guess with you.”

  “Again, is that a good thing?”

  She crossed the gap between them and kissed his cheek before she started bawling. “It’s a really good thing. Thank you. For everything. This has already been one of the most amazing nights of my life.”

  “And what firsts would you like to try to make it even better?”

  “Can we see where things go?”

  “Yeah. Of course.” His smile returned, bigger than before. “How about we start with dinner?”

  Her stomach growled in response. “Sounds good to me.”

  They both laughed as they tucked into the fixed bench of the picnic table, draped in black linen. Joe straddled the plank, seating himself on her right so that he faced her. His left hand stroked her hair and he stole a peck on her cheek before admitting, “Kate and the rest of the crew helped me organize everything. The guys know you’re like a sister to Kate, and they’re all happy we’re finally doing something about—”

  He gestured between himself and her.

  “They said that?” She watched as he dipped mulled cider from the warmer into her mug. Cinnamon and cloves mixed with the leather of Joe’s jacket, nearly making her high from the delicious scents surrounding her.

  “They didn’t have to.” Joe tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I can tell by the way they act around you and how much they’ve ripped on me for waiting to ask you out.”

  “What if they didn’t approve of me?”

  Joe waited until he’d finished plating several slices of fresh apples drizzled with caramel, a mixture of nuts and something that looked like herbed chicke
n with eggplant and other seasonal vegetables from the insulated bag on the table.

  “Look, Morgan. I realize what Kate told you the other day could be confusing. I’m not sure I understand it myself. There aren’t any hard and fast laws when it comes to the crew and the women we’ve entertained.” Joe trailed one finger across the corner of her mouth, where a stray bit of foam from their drinks had landed. He brought the digit to his lips and licked it clean. “Let’s make one thing clear, though. If the crew had been crazy enough not to care about you like I do, I still wouldn’t have walked away. I couldn’t have.”

  Her stomach clenched at his assertion. Almost as hard as when he sucked her taste from his fingertip. Desire coursed through her as she imagined his tongue lapping at her juices with such gusto. And what if it were more than just Joe devouring her? Could she handle three other men as potent and masculine as him? Would he still want her if she couldn’t?

  “What happens between us is between us. Anything else we decide to do or not do can come later. But, I am curious. You didn’t say much yesterday. How do you feel about what Kate told you?”

  “It’s hot!” She clapped her hand over her mouth in horror. She had not blurted that in the middle of their heart to heart.

  Joe laughed, then forked up a piece of chicken. He cupped his hand beneath the chunk of steaming meat and guided it to her mouth. She gathered her thoughts as she chewed. The savory dish delighted her taste buds.

  “Mmm. This is great.”

  “Do you know how rough it is to cook for a chef? I got my balls in a bunch trying to pick the perfect thing.”

  “I’d say you did fine. Better than.” She swallowed another draught of cider then bit the bullet. She could be as brave as her date. “And, yes, I’m completely turned on by the idea of the crew but it scares me too. I don’t want you to think I’m a slut. I, um, care too much about you to ruin this for one night of fun.”

  “Morgan.” He set his mug on the table hard enough to make the candles shimmer. “That’s bullshit. Is that what you think? That enjoying a ménage with people who know you and respect you is the same as sleeping with any man who needs to get off? If it is, then this isn’t for you.”