Chapter Three
Morgan
Swinging a hammer feels pretty damn good today.
It might be because I am still frustrated after my meeting at the bank.
Might be because all I could think about the last few days was that mouthy, maddening woman behind her desk, judging me.
Looking so goddamn perfect while she smirked at me with that perfect mouth and those pretty eyes.
Swinging the hammer, I slam it against the hand I am holding a piece of drywall up with.
"Motherf....that goddamn woman!" I curse as I throw the hammer, biting down on the thumb I just smashed.
Grunting, I sit down on a stack of drywall, tearing my hat off.
I am sweating, it is hot, and I am pissed.
I have not been able to think of anything else but her since I sat across her at the bank.
We’ve not heard about our loan request, but I could give a shit about it.
All I want to do is see her again. I want to prove myself to her and I have no fucking clue why.
"You good in here, bro?"
Glancing up at Ethan, I flip my middle finger at him.
He smirks at me, coming into the room I am framing out.
It’s been a slow process with this build the past few days.
Mostly because I cannot concentrate. I may not give a toss about a loan, but my brothers do.
They’re over doing pissant jobs—such as this small hotel renovation—so I can’t blame them.
"Yeah, I am just fine. Just a little worried about our loan with the bank. If we don’t get that loan..." Sighing, I trail off.
There are a lot of "what ifs", if this falls through for us.
It means more days at the office in a suit for me.
More on fishing tours to Sunset Springs for Ethan and Tanner.
More teaching classes at the college for Dexter.
All things we do without passion. Building things, working side by side, being together to do some good here in True Ridge, that is our passion.
Being so dumbfounded by Maren threw me off course. I should not have lost sight of our goals. Of how important this is for my brothers. They trusted me to get that loan so we could focus on our passions. I blew it by leading with the wrong head, something I have never done before.
"I made such a fool of myself," I admit, free to be open with my brother even if he gives me a hard time about it. "I just...I’ve never met a woman that made me think or feel what I did the moment I met her."
"Good," Ethan is quick to respond. "We were all wondering if you might be broken when it came to women. It's good to see you react at all."
"Not so sure it was the right reaction—or one that is returned."
"Might be time to go have a chat with Ms. Carter," Ethan suggests, waggling his brows as he shoves a coffee straw past his lips. He chews at it much the way a rabbit does a carrot so I can’t help but laugh.
"Yeah. Yeah, I need to follow up. If it is a no, she can tell me that so I can go to another bank," I suggest, dusting my hands off as I push to my feet with a sigh.
"Go do that, big man. Follow up. Take something as a gesture since last time you left her office in shame," he teases.
Flushing, I shake my head. Yeah, I should have kept some of that meeting to my damn self.
Why I went on and on about how pretty she was, yet how mean, how I said the stupid shit I said to her, I have no clue.
Well, of course I know. It’s because I’ve never had that reaction to a woman before.
We’re close enough with one another, I thought I could tell them how dumb I behaved so they could ensure I don’t do that shit again.
"Take her something? Wouldn’t that seem...I mean we’re asking for funds for the business. Wouldn’t seem as if I were bribing her?"
Ethan threw his head back, letting out a sharp bark of a laugh.
"God, you’re an idiot. Stop making it complicated.
Buy her a pastry and a latte. Say you’re sorry for hitting on her—or better yet, do it again.
Leverage that ‘pretty face’, why don’t you?
" He leaned in and gave my face a rough smack, leaving behind a dusty, plaster-covered handprint.
"Oy, you prick," I curse him, wiping at the mess at my cheek. "Now I have to clean up before I go make this nice gesture."
Ethan laughs again because he knows how full of shit I am.
I would jump at any excuse to go see her again.
Matter of fact, I have been thinking of a dozen reasons to go see her since I walked out of her office.
Something I forgot on our loan application.
A statement from our other incomes she might need.
Now it seems coffee and some pastry could be the simplest solution.
I swat him away as I rush past, calling out that I’ll get back to the framing later.
The remodel can wait; I’ve got a bank manager to impress.
I stop long enough to pick up two chocolate chip croissants and an assortment of coffee.
I want to be ready for her this time—no more tripping over my words like I did at our last meeting.
"Hello, Mr. Brant," her assistant calls with a puzzled look. "Did you...did you have a meeting with Ms. Carter?"
Beaming a smile at her—using my pretty face the way my little brother suggested—I shake my head, lifting the goodies at her. "No, I thought I would come thank her for taking our last meeting," I explain as I sail past her with confidence, hoping I blitzed her enough she won’t stop me.
To my relief, she just waves me on with a little smile.
Nodding at her, I knock once, then let myself into Maren’s office.
I stop when I find her sitting behind her desk, her raven hair a mess, her skin flushed, her eyes big.
Rushing inside, I kick the door shut behind me, setting the coffee and pastries down with a thud on the edge of her desk.
"What is wrong? Did someone do something to you?" I rush to the edge of the desk, kneeling beside it.
I don't understand the hold she has on me. I’m worried about a woman I hardly know—though I’ve asked enough subtle questions since we met to know more than I should. Waiting for her answer has me spiraling. I’m restless, agitated, even defensive at the thought of anyone upsetting her.
"N-No, no one did anything. I uh...Mr. Akron lost his wife. He uh...well, he came to talk about...their funeral funds," Maren sniffles, covering her face with her hand, trying to hide this softness from me. I refuse. I grab both her hands in one of mine, holding them against my chest.
"He’s a good man. They’re what most of us ought to aspire to be," I admit as my fingers brush over her cheeks, taking away tears I know she must hate someone else seeing.
"Heard about her passing, my brother Dex built a gazebo for them, so he could take Rosemarie out there to sit.
They were romantic until the end," I admit with a little chuckle.
Maren blinks down at me, her hands pressed against my chest now, her eyes shining in the sunshine.
Slowly, the moment shifts. Between us, something builds that makes my chest ache.
It’s the same feeling that I’ve carried with me since I left her office.
I know now as I sit knelt at her side, its not something that is going to go away even if I want it to.
No, this feeling is going nowhere. Good thing I rather enjoy it.
"Morgan," her mouth caresses my name and I groan, my head falling a little.
I move before I can think. Before I can hesitate too long, wrecking the moment.
I pull her forward, sliding her from her seat down onto my thighs.
My arms go tight around her as I lower my head, brushing my nose over hers.
I whisper her name the same soft, needy way she just said mine.
Then I do the stupidest thing I have ever done during a business meeting.
My mouth fits to hers, and I savor the little soft whimper she gives when my tongue pushes past her lips.
To my utter surprise and pleasure, she clings to me, wrapping her soft body around me tightly.
I cradle her close as the kiss deepens, my hand sliding into the hair at her nape, tangling roughly.
She tastes so sweet, her tongue twists with mine, and I savor the faint taste of strawberries.
Her fingers slide into my hair as her legs wrap tighter around my waist.
Standing up with her clinging to me, I settle her ass on her desk.
My hands drop to her thighs, and I start to push at her skirt.
I have no clue what I am doing, but I need to touch her.
It’s all I can think about. All I have been able to think about since I first walked into this office days ago.
Her little gasp when my fingertips brush over her panties makes me pause.
"I won’t touch you if you don’t want me to. Jesus, I want to touch you so bad I ache," I whisper against her mouth, kissing her before she can respond. I can’t stand the idea of stopping, but I will if she tells me to.
"Touch me," she whispers it as if she is asking a question. Her head tilts, those stunning eyes shining up at me before she smirks. "Is that...all you want to do, Morgan?"
"Fuck, I love the way you say my name, honey," I breathe, licking at her mouth, my fist tangling in her hair to yank her head back. I drag my mouth greedily down her throat, sure any moment she is going to throw me out of here. I have thought of nothing else but this exact moment for days. "No, I want to do a hell of a lot more than touch you. It’s all I can think about. I’ve never...Maren, I’ve never felt the things I’ve felt since I first walked in here.
I don’t give a damn about a loan now," I breathe harshly, sinking my teeth into her shoulder.