by Powers, Jade
In My
Heart
by
Jade
Powers
Table of Contents
Title Page
In My Heart | Jade Powers | Copyright July 5, 2018 Jade Powers, J. Raleigh
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Book 2: On My Mind is Available On Amazon
On My Mind | Chapter 1
Author’s Note
In My Heart
Jade Powers
Copyright July 5, 2018 Jade Powers, J. Raleigh
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Written permission from the author must be secured to use or reproduce any part of this book except for brief excerpts to provide critical review or articles.
The characters and settings in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons or locations is coincidental.
CERTAIN IMAGES AND/or photos on this page are the copyrighted property of 123RF Limited, their Contributors or Licensed Partners and are being used with permission under license. These images and/or photos may not be copied or downloaded without permission from 123RF
Copyright:
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The Mile High Club
BOOK 1: IN MY HEART
Book 2: On My Mind
Book 3: In My Life
Book 4: With My Soul
Book 5: All My Strength
Book 6: All My Passion
Chapter 1
~~ Spokane, WA Jan 1998 ~~
MINKA UNLOCKED HER new apartment with a soaring sense of freedom. That joy warred with deep trepidation. She stood at the entryway and took a moment to survey her new home. The carpet was standard apartment beige, the kitchen little more than a hall, and the room utterly bare. A ceiling fan hung in the corner where she would add a dining room table. She planned to be there short-term, a few months to pay off cards. Still, it represented freedom, escape—life.
She left the door ajar while she ran back down the stairs. The streets were wet with snow that didn’t stick, the air cold on her cheeks. She wore knitted cloth gloves, leaving her dongle snow-hat in the car.
After a few trips hauling boxes, Minka’s legs were tired, her arms sore. Pulling a box of her favorite books out of the trunk, she rested them on her hip. It was the heaviest—not that she had many boxes. With a grunt, she pulled it higher and walked toward the stairs.
Minka was just starting up the stairs when the box broke, the bottom dropping out and books falling everywhere. At least the awning kept the concrete where her books fell dry. She heard the man first, his voice deep and suffused with warmth and humor.
Minka glanced over her shoulder. There, in khaki pants and a button-up shirt, stood the most gorgeous man she had seen in her life. His hair was midnight black with natural curls. That and thick eyelashes gave him an exotic boyish appearance.
Any childish aspect ended with his soul-piercing gaze, broad shoulders, strong arms, and respectable height. His posture was straight, with military bearing, and he had a real presence. Minka could imagine him barking orders, maybe as a sergeant, maybe a foreman. The guy exuded confidence.
It took Minka a moment to recall his words. He had such a warm smile. He said, “Surfing and crocheting. Quite the combination.”
“I have a variety of tastes,” Minka answered as she lowered the broken box to the concrete, peering at him through her lashes. She felt her cheeks flame and wondered if her whole body would consume itself like the phoenix.
In her mind she heard her ex-boyfriend, Joe, berating her, How are you going to learn to surf in Spokane? What a waste of twenty dollars.
Sven introduced himself as he picked up a pair of those huge, five-pound crocheting books replete with instructions and full illustrations. He handed them to Minka. She felt her heart skip a beat when their hands touched. The universe must be challenging her, introducing this particular neighbor just hours after she had sworn off men indefinitely.
She tried to play it cool, but his smile melted any chill her heart might harbor. He added, “I think we’re new neighbors. My apartment is the third floor to the left.”
Minka was suddenly tongue-tied. This man was handsome and kind. Joe had been handsome once, but never kind. Not that. She said, “How coincidental. I’m on the third floor to the right.”
Coincidental? Minka cringed at her own word choice.
Fortunately, her hot new neighbor didn’t seem to notice.
“Do you need help hauling boxes?” Sven knelt on his heels at the bottom of the stairs, carefully picking up books. Minka read plenty of novels as well. She thought she was going to die of embarrassment when he picked up the romance novel with a bare-chested Duke in a compromising position with a fiery woman in a red ball gown. He lifted an eyebrow and with a saucy smirk said, “Some light reading? I think I need to help you unpack so that I can spend our time as neighbors teasing you about your horrendous reading choices.”
Her dignity slipped, but Minka could parry words with the best. She said, “I doubt you’ve ever read a romance all the way through. Hard to judge something you’ve never tried.”
“You have me there.” Sven handed Minka another book. He didn’t seem in a hurry to leave.
Minka liked Sven more than was decent at a first impression. His eyes glowed with warmth. His smile radiated heat. Watching him lift the box, well that was just lust...or maybe physical appreciation. Minka couldn’t trust her mind—couldn’t trust him.
She imagined something dangerous lurking below the surface, something out of reach. She was hauling boxes in the dead of winter to escape her ex-boyfriend, Joe. At the time when she signed the lease, a third floor apartment sounded like a great idea. She would be safe on the third floor. No one would climb through her window.
Remembering her ex was plenty of warning against Sven, no matter how handsome and polite he was. Joe had been her first crush in high school. Their relationship grew, and they moved in together. After a few shoves into the wall and a black eye and bruised cheek, Minka struck off on her own. Between Joe and her absent father, Minka was learning to avoid men like the plague. Of course, she’d never caught a plague as hunky as this one.
What Joe might do always lingered permanently in Minka’s thoughts, sometimes as a faint nagging sensation that she needed to be hyperaware of her surroundings, sometimes in outright fear. He would find her eventually. Minka would be ready.
As if his very essence served to shine a spotlight on Joe’s flaws, Sven was charming, polite, and handsome. He wasn’t her ex, and not every man pushed or punched. She had to get past her crazy fears and move forward. This fine specimen of a man was the perfect place to start. It wasn’t all physical. Minka told herself to pay attention to his smiling face, to his kind gestures, to the gentleness in his reach. Those were the marks of a good boyfriend, of a real man.
Minka found she didn’t want to g
o up the stairs, didn’t want this moment with her fascinating neighbor to end. As if he read her thoughts, Sven pulled one of her romances off the pile. He carefully teased it open, his smile bursting like spring flowers. Sven pretended to read aloud, “His eyes grazed her dimpled breasts. Dimpled? Do breasts smile?”
“It does not say that.” Minka held out her hand for the book.
Sven handed it over, his fingers brushing hers. He said, “I should stay and help you unpack. Guard your bookshelf against the horny dukes. Perhaps if we sequester them to the bottom shelf, they won’t scare those poor sewing ladies.” Minka was fairly certain that if she could peek into the lives of the writers behind those crocheting books, she would find a stack of romance books that could reach the moon.
Minka threw Sven’s teasing back at him, “Fine. Help me haul the rest of the boxes upstairs. As a reward, I’ll let you unpack them as well. You may put the romances on any shelf you like, although I would recommend putting the crochet guides on the bottom.”
Sven grinned, a dimple rising in his cheek. He took an armload of books from the broken box and carried them up the stairs to his new neighbor’s apartment. He called over his shoulder, “Deal.”
Minka enjoyed the view as Sven carried her box of books up the stairs. He had fine musculature. Although it was the dead of winter, he had taken off his jacket and while he didn’t bulge as much as a wrestler, he did work out enough for her to notice his ripped muscles. And he was a total sweetheart.
It was a shame she only had a handful of boxes. Soon her car would be empty and her reason to hang out with the neighbor would be over. In her flight from Joe, Minka hadn’t packed half of her stuff. The end tables her mom gave them for a wedding present, the dishes she bought from money she’d saved for months.
What hurt the most was the loss of the teddy bear her dad had given her for her seventh Christmas, the year before he left the family. She cherished that bear. It was buried under the blankets above Joe’s shirts in the closet. It burned her to have forgotten it, hurt like nothing else. But she had to hide the things she cherished, or Joe would have destroyed them, and in her panic to pack quickly, the bear had stayed hidden from her very thoughts until it was too late.
Minka shook off her dark deliberation and watched Sven lower her box to the floor. He turned and took the box she was carrying. Her body felt electrified when their hands touched. This man was certainly intriguing.
Maybe her luck would change.
SVEN’S FIRST VIEW OF Minka on late Friday evening was of that magnificent derriere. Not that he was a perv or anything. One quick glance and he forced his gaze up. His heart might have stopped at the sight. Her hair was red, not the orangey-red of a strawberry blonde, but a deep auburn that sparkled with golden strands in the winter sun. She was a goddess, and he was the simpleton who bumbled in her presence. A smattering of freckles across her nose and soft, rosy cheeks completed the picture.
When the box disintegrated under her books sending them scattering around her feet, it was as if fate stepped in, beckoning to Sven in personal invitation. Minka wore a gray hooded sweatshirt and comfortable jeans. She would be petite but strong if that box of books was as heavy as it looked.
Their first conversation turned out well, as evidenced by his new role as a mule, hauling boxes into the cute neighbor’s apartment. After all this time, Sven discovered that he had been hanging with the wrong crowd.
After moving a dozen boxes into her apartment, the car was empty. Sven lowered the last box to the floor. He imagined a lonely evening playing computer games and realized that he didn’t want to leave this woman just yet. They had exchanged jokes in passing as they climbed up and down the stairs.
He certainly felt a spark. And she made him laugh. That didn’t happen much anymore.
Once she yelled down, “Did I see you on the WWF? Stone Cold Sven?”
Sven laughed at the jibe and called back up, “How do you find time to watch wrestling with Lord Duke and his lovely mistress haunting your waking moments?”
“I got it all from commercials. No need to watch. There is plenty of time for passion,” Minka said, her green eyes bright and shining.
And so it went. Sven realized that his time with Minka was almost over, and he wanted more. He had gone a long time without a girlfriend. Now that he was at the last box, he made the decision. He said, “Do you have another load to bring? I’m leasing a pickup if you need more power.”
“This is it.” Minka said. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and glanced shyly up at him.
It almost hurt, the affect she had on him. Physical attraction did not a relationship make, and Sven wanted more. Too bad he didn’t have the time.
He should just ask her out. Even if he was on business. Even if his business was dangerous. Even if it would end with him packing up and leaving town in two weeks, maybe a couple of months if he stretched it. If he left without asking her out, she would be better off.
They stood watching one another, the sudden silence between them awkward. Sven felt a keen sense of disappointment. Clasping his hands together as if he didn’t know what to do with them, he said, “Take care, then. I’m right across the hall if you need anything.”
Sven shut the door to his apartment, twisted the lock. His first urge when they parted had been to wrap his arms around Minka and hold her until the next morning. He barely knew the woman. Instead he made a fool of himself. Right across the hall if you need anything. Seriously...what would she need? It’s not like she would come over to borrow sugar.
He wanted to spend the evening with this woman. Hell, he wanted to spend the night, too. She didn’t seem the type, which was part of the draw. Damn. He was only in town for a few months at most, and somehow in the space of an afternoon this woman got to him.
Mumbling to himself, Sven decided, I’m just going to have to ask her out. Scratch the itch and move on.
When Sven considered scratching the itch with Minka, he didn’t actually mean sex. Sure he wanted it. And Minka was a beauty. But to Sven the itch was just asking her out. Spending more time, and if it turned into something more, well, that would be even better.
Sven had to be honest with himself, if no one else. Yes, he wanted a few rowdy nights with Minka. He would ask her out. It was decided. The logical part of his mind said, Sure, go out and realize we’re not compatible. Like every other date he had ever been on.
But Minka was unique; maybe this time would be different. Maybe this time, they would be compatible and maybe he would make love to her in a thousand different ways. Maybe.
That was the plan. Lots of love-making.
Chapter 2
IT WAS LATE SATURDAY morning. Minka shoved three pairs of jeans and four towels into the washer. Her decision to unpack from the bedroom first would have made more sense had she marked boxes like any normal person. How she and Alice had managed to grab two dozen boxes worth of clothes, kitchen gear, and towels in one night was really something of a miracle. She had forgotten things that hurt, and had left half for Joe. Minka wasn’t trying for war. She had just wanted out.
The doorbell rang.
Minka gasped. Her first impulse was to hide in the walk-in closet with the water heater, the stacked washer-dryer, her basket of dirty laundry, and the boxes of clothes yet to be unpacked.
Taking a deep breath, Minka steeled herself for a fight or at least an argument through the closed door. No one in their right mind would open the door on an angry Joe. She felt the confrontation like dry sand in her throat.
Her every instinct prepared her to hide from Joe, to tell him to go away, to do something. Every nerve ending was shouting ‘run run’ but there was no place to go.
Creeping to the door, Minka peeked through the security hole. Her whole body unwound and relaxed when she glimpsed her new neighbor nervously staring at the ceiling. Do handsome men get nervous? Minka thought this one did.
In her relief, maybe her smile was a little too bright when Minka o
pened the door and said, “Howdy neighbor, long time no see.”
Minka cringed. Could she have said something more stupid? She didn’t think so.
“Well, there, little lady, I can see you’ve a long way toward settling in. Would you like me to scare up some grub?” Sven said, going for the western drawl to mirror Minka’s Howdy.
Minka laughed. His accent was terrible. Her first impulse was to say no. After Joe, another relationship would be too hard. Something in his face, perhaps the light in his eyes overcame her internal resistance. It was just a friendly invitation to dinner, not a date. She said, “That would be nice. Let me get changed. Come in.”
Every box was open and strategically placed where it would be needed later. The boxes weighted the room, anchored in the center where the couch should be. Sven hovered in the doorway, unsure where to sit. He leaned on the counter. The apartment kitchens were set up for maximum utility. The refrigerator sat next to the sink which was next to the dishwasher facing the entryway. On the other side, cabinets stood next to the stove and on the other side stood more cabinets.
Two boxes blocked the refrigerator.
None of the boxes were labeled.
Minka didn’t take long. To Sven’s surprise and relief, she opened the bedroom door before he could thoroughly psychoanalyze her personality based on a few boxes. Minka wore a purple blouse and jeans to stunning effect.
“Ready,” Minka said.
Sven held open the door. He stepped out of the way so that she could lock it. Diplomacy had never been his strongest trait. Before he could help himself, Sven said, “If you label the boxes, it’s easier to unpack.”
Minka took a deep breath. The comment though well-meant raised a whole lot of personal problems that Minka didn’t want to talk about. It would be too easy to roll out her life’s story, and then Sven would run.
