“Fuck that. What does that make him?” Zev thrust the bottle in Graham’s direction. “He hasn’t had any longer relationships than I have.”
She studied Graham for so long, he wondered what was going on in that beautiful head of hers. She pushed to her feet and said, “I’m not sure, but maybe mine for tonight.”
He wasn’t a one-night stand kind of guy, but this carefree beauty who smelled like sweet summer rain and wasn’t afraid to bust his brother’s balls just might change that.
She grabbed their hands, pulling them both up beside her on top of the container. “Dance with me.”
“Not my thing, sweetheart.” Zev leapt to the ground.
She glanced at Graham and said, “Looks like you’re the dominant one after all.”
“Damn right I am.” Beautiful and sassy. Man, he loved that. Women usually went crazy for Zev with his long hair and wily personality. He was glad she wasn’t one of those women.
Zev scoffed. “Good luck getting this guy to dance on that thing without first doing a complete risk assessment.”
Graham ground his teeth together. Jackass. “You going somewhere?”
“Making my way to the stage to prove my sexual powers.” Zev winked and said, “Nice to meet you, sunshine. I’m sure your sister will tell you how incredible I was tomorrow.”
“Good luck,” she said.
“Find me before you take off for the airport,” Graham hollered after him. Zev waved, making a beeline toward the stage.
“He’s leaving town?” she asked.
“Yeah. He travels a lot. All kidding aside, he’s a great guy. Bigmouthed and cocky as hell, but a good man. And you, sunshine, you’re something else.”
“Hard to define. I know. I hear it all the time. But I’m not going to apologize for who I am.”
“Apologize?” Was she kidding? She had a great personality and she was gorgeous, from her golden hair and tanned shoulders—which begged to be kissed—to her sexy figure, funky boots, and crazy hat. “I think you’re fantastic.”
Curiosity rose in her eyes. She wrinkled her nose, which made her even cuter. “You’re just trying to distract me because you don’t dance, right? Just for the record, I’m not a sure thing. I only said that because I couldn’t think of a better comeback.”
“You want to dance?” He swept an arm around her waist, drawing her closer, and said, “There’s nothing I won’t do, after you tell me your name.”
She smiled, brightening everything around them as she said, “Morgyn.”
“Morgyn. Beautiful.” He loved the way her name rolled off his tongue. “How about if we dance on the grass so you don’t slip and hurt yourself?”
She stepped from his grasp and twirled in a circle, giving him a gorgeous view of all her curves, and then she grinned as if she’d proven her point.
He looked down at her boots, unconvinced.
“Zev was right. You are totally assessing the risk of dancing up here, aren’t you?”
“Maybe,” he admitted, because he was a lousy liar. “But only because the idea of you getting hurt and us missing out on spending the next few hours together sucks—and because those boots look about three sizes too big.”
“Two sizes.” She grabbed his arm, steadying herself as she tugged off her boots. “I forgot to check the weather, so I came in sandals.” She set her boots on the edge of the storage container.
“You didn’t check the weather? Are you staying overnight? Do you have a tent?”
“Of course! And no, Mr. Prepared, I did not check the weather. Where’s the fun in that? I had those boots in my van, and they work fine other than filling with water when it poured.” She peeled off her umbrella hat and shook out her hair. Long blond tendrils tumbled around her face, making her blue eyes stand out even more. She shouted to a woman walking by, “Hey! Need a rain hat?”
The woman shrugged. “Sure!”
Morgyn clutched Graham’s hand and leaned over the edge to give it to her. Her dress crept up the backs of her legs, barely covering her ass. She didn’t seem to notice or care as she popped upright, looking sexy as sin and carefree as the wind.
“You might need that hat later,” he pointed out.
“And you think too much.” She waved her hand dismissively. “I’ll just borrow yours.”
“I’d build you a shelter before I’d part with my lucky hat, sunshine.”
She made a pouty face that was freaking adorable, and then her eyes narrowed and she crossed her arms, studying him. “What’s so special about that hat?”
“You want my secrets? You’ve got to give me some of yours.” The hat had been his father’s, and it had always brought Graham luck. He wasn’t about to tell her that he’d never met a woman he wanted a long-term relationship with, and until that happened, his lucky hat would remain solely in his possession.
“I don’t have secrets, so you can keep yours.” She leaned closer and, lifting the strap of his green duffel bag over his head, said, “Ready to live dangerously, Mr. Risk Assessor?”
He tossed his duffel to the ground as she began shimmying and swaying to the beat of the country song, her eyes locked on him, and in that moment, he didn’t give a rat’s ass about his hat. When the beat quickened, she kept pace, dancing with seductive confidence, like she was born with rhythm in her blood. Her allure was too strong to resist, and he began moving without thought. As an engineer and an investor, he did careful research, planning, and execution for everything he did, and that carried over to the extreme sports he took part in. Doing anything without thought was a first for him, but he wasn’t about to fight it because Sunshine was watching him like she wanted to disappear into him, and he sure as hell wanted to disappear into her.
He swept an arm around her, drawing her against him again, and her eyes flamed, but there was no hint of a blush on her cheeks. A bolt of heat shot through him. There was nothing sexier than a confident woman.
He put his mouth beside her ear as he said, “For your information, I thrive on danger.”
Chapter Two
“DAMN, CRACKER, YOU do have moves,” Morgyn said as Graham’s powerful hips swung and thrust in perfect sync with hers. They’d danced to several songs, and even though there were gorgeous, half-dressed women everywhere, his attention never wavered.
He flashed that addicting smile that made her stomach summersault. “Cracker?”
“Graham cracker…?”
He laughed, and as she’d noticed earlier, the sexiest dimples appeared, softening the inherent strength in his face. The guy had a serious presence, the kind that made a person want to hear what he had to say. He wasn’t authoritative, because he didn’t come across demanding or commanding, but the confidence he exuded was made even stronger by the cut of his jaw, his broad shoulders, and eyes that didn’t just see her, but seemed to read her.
“You’re a trip, sunshine. I haven’t heard cracker since about grade school. You haven’t even seen my best moves yet.”
His gaze rolled over her face as they danced, like the answers to whatever questions he had were written in her skin.
“Just ask,” she said as the sun broke through the late-afternoon clouds. She tipped her face up to soak in its warmth and felt his arms come around her.
“I’m just wondering why a beautiful, outgoing woman like you is here alone.”
“You think I’m beautiful?” she said just to make him laugh, which he did. “What makes you think I’m here alone?”
The song ended, but they didn’t stop dancing. She liked being in his arms, watching the gears of his mind churning behind that devilish grin.
“You didn’t run off when you caught me behind the fence, or when Zev propositioned you with a threesome.” He held her tighter, and she felt that particular body part she’d spied earlier pressing against her. “And you’re still dancing with me. Usually women have friends who save them from guys like me.”
Honesty. She liked that. “I came with my sister, but she blew
me off for a guy. I have other friends here somewhere, but I’m a big girl. I don’t need saving. Although now I’m curious about just what kind of guy you are that you think I might need rescuing. Because I have to tell you, your aura tells me you’re safe, while Zev’s told me to tread carefully.”
His brow wrinkled. “You believe in that stuff?”
“Absolutely, but I’m not surprised if you don’t. Risk calculation and ethereal things don’t seem to go together very well.” She’d found that out firsthand when she’d dated Beckett. He’d wanted to change so much about her, starting with the way she did business. She expected Graham to ease his hold like most guys did when they realized she wasn’t the conventional thinker they were used to.
He tightened his grip, slow dancing to the new fast song the band was playing and said, “Enlighten me. Tell me what you see.”
“Shades of blue and red mostly,” she said.
“Not gray?” he asked with a smirk.
She shook her head. “Oh no, that’s a low-energy, depressing color. No, cracker, you resonate inner peace, a quiet calmness and seriousness, and a strong sense of purpose.”
He arched a brow, and she realized what he’d meant.
“Oh, you meant…” She laughed. “The primal urges you’re trapping behind that cautious exterior? That’s the red in you, not gray.”
“Ah, that writer got it all wrong, I guess.” His eyes went serious again and he said, “You can see all that from looking at me? Because I think you missed a few things.”
He was clearly a thinker, no matter how much he claimed to thrive on danger. She was usually the opposite. Morgyn rarely took the time to think things through, but she found herself slowing down, wanting to figure him out.
“Like your connection to the earth?” she asked. “I get the feeling that you’re not a guy who can be trapped in an office. I bet you have a passion for living life to the fullest and succeeding in everything you do, but cautiously. Like Zev alluded to, assessing risks before jumping in to adventures.”
“Hm…” His gaze drifted around them for the first time since they’d met, and when his eyes found her again, they were even more intense. “If I’m mostly blue and red, what are you, sunshine?”
“You must already know, because of what you call me.”
He cocked his head, and then a slow grin spread across his handsome face. “Yellow?”
“Yes, and I think we share that, actually. You have a touch of orange-yellow, which means you’re creative and intelligent, but scientific and a bit of a perfectionist, while I’m more of a pale yellow. I’m an optimist, spiritually aware, and I’m definitely not a perfectionist. I usually act before I think, and I love exploring new ideas.”
His gaze smoldered. “I do love exploring,” he said in a low voice as his hands slid down her hips.
His hands were big and strong. Her mind traveled to his other big body part.
Oh boy.
Now her insides were humming.
She focused on the music, getting into the rhythm, the sound of the singer—who wasn’t Sable. Had they been dancing long enough for the band to change? Had she been so lost in him she’d missed the break in the music?
They bumped and ground on their own tiny stage, surrounded by hundreds of people who were talking, dancing, laughing, and doing God only knew what else. Graham’s eyes took on a seductive haze, and the sights and other sounds were drowned out by the electricity buzzing between them.
Your eyes have superpowers. Morgyn was sure of it because she had a hell of a time trying to look away from them. They were serious and sharp, everything she didn’t consider herself to be. She was smart and she took her life seriously, but she didn’t consider herself a serious or sharp person. She floated through her days taking everything in, seeing possibilities everywhere, and not stressing over the little things. Like the fact that she had to decide what to do about the rent increase on her shop and how she was going to manage it. But that was a worry for another day, not something to stress over when she was at her favorite festival, dancing with this handsome creature.
The longer she and Graham danced, the more intensely his rough hands moved over her skin and his eyes bored into her, bringing all sorts of naughty possibilities to mind. The kind of possibilities that Brindle and Sable would jump on, Grace would secretly take advantage of, and her most careful sisters, Pepper and Amber, would pretend didn’t exist. The kind of sinful possibilities Morgyn wanted to explore but was a little afraid to, because doing so could lead to wanting more, and that never worked out well for her. But his tempting lips were right there. She wasn’t laden with inhibitions, and she didn’t have sexual hang-ups or a painful past to overcome, but this…Whatever this was—desire, lust, intrigue, something deeper—was molecular. It pulsed inside her, expanding and multiplying, filling her with a force she’d never imagined.
His eyes sought approval, and she arched into him. She wanted to kiss him, to give in to the pull inside her and experience all his pent-up passion firsthand. But she didn’t need to feel the weight of desiring more and not having a chance at it. Maybe if he was a guy she wanted only to kiss, but she liked the man she was getting to know. He stirred emotions in her that made her want to slow down and think. She wanted to know more about him, and not to be remembered only as that girl at the festival. The festival noises came back into focus, clearing the lust from her brain enough for her to try to say what she was feeling, but all that came out was “Funnel cake.”
Confusion riddled his brow, but his kissable lips tipped up again, giving her a peek at his sexy dimples, which felt like secrets even though everyone else could see them. “Funnel cake?”
“Uh-huh.” She shoved her feet into her boots and jumped off the container.
He climbed down after her, mumbling, “Funnel cake…”
“Come on, cracker. I need it.” She grabbed his arm as he put the strap of his bag across his chest again and dragged him around tents and people, toward the funnel cake truck.
“Funnel cake? You actually eat that stuff?”
She looked at him like he’d lost his mind. “It’s the food of festival goddesses everywhere.”
“Festival goddesses? I guess I’ve got a lot to learn about festivals.”
A guy stumbled out of a tent, nearly barreling into Morgyn. Graham tugged her against him, glowering at the guy. He settled his arm around her, keeping her close as they weaved through the crowds and got in line for funnel cake. He was looking at her with that curious expression again.
“What?” she asked. “Are you a nuts and twigs type of guy?”
“Aren’t all guys? That’s how God made us. Well, nuts and tree trunks…”
“Ha-ha.” Great. Now she was thinking about that again. “You know what I mean. What’s your go-to festival food?”
He waggled his brows.
“Seriously?” She pushed out from beneath his arm and said, “Are you one of those guys who comes to festivals just to hook up?”
He put that strong arm around her again and hauled her against him. “No, sunshine. I’m the kind of guy who’ll take any reason to hang out with his family. I told you Zev travels a lot. He’s leaving tonight for several weeks. He convinced me to come to the festival.”
“You asked about the color gray, and I see a muddy or dirty gray in Zev, which doesn’t mean what you think. It means he’s blocking energies, overly guarded, despite his effervescent personality. That’s why I think he’s foreplay. It wouldn’t matter which woman he was with; he’s not open to that kind of long-term energy. I don’t see that in you.”
His face grew serious again. “I guess there is some truth to how you read people. He’s had a tough time.”
“What do you mean tough?”
“He carries guilt for something he shouldn’t.”
“Oh. I’m sorry. All that energy he throws out is probably to cover it up.”
Graham nodded as the line inched forward. “So, intuitive one. Why are y
ou here? Are festival goddesses like tour groupies?”
“Probably, but not me. I love festivals, but this is my favorite. It’s been going on for like a hundred years. My grandparents met at this festival, and they were together from that day on.”
“Really? That’s great. Do they ever come anymore?”
“Unfortunately, we lost my grandma when I was little, but my grandfather brought us until he passed away when I was thirteen.” She touched her necklace, thinking of her grandfather. “My parents brought us after that, until my oldest sister got her driver’s license. She took us once and swore never again. I guess we drove her mad, because she was thrilled when Sable got her license. By then only me, Sable, Brindle—the sister who ditched me today—and Axsel went to the festival, because my other sisters decided they didn’t need the craziness.”
“I can’t believe you have a family almost as big as mine. No wonder you’re not afraid to talk smack with Zev.”
“Comes with big-family territory.”
They bought one funnel cake to share, and Graham handed the plate to Morgyn. “Can you hold this for a sec? I’ve got a tarp and a towel in my bag. We can sit and listen to the band while we eat.”
“You carry a tarp?” She stifled a laugh as he spread it out. “You must have been a Boy Scout.”
“Eagle Scout,” he said with a smirk as he spread the towel over the tarp.
“What else do you have in that bag?”
“Still begging for secrets?” he said with a cocky smile. “Come on, sunshine. Sit with me.”
“I’ll get your towel wet. Oh, that probably doesn’t matter. I bet you have a portable, battery-powered clothes dryer in your bag, too.”
He sat down and pulled her down beside him. “Smart-ass.”
“Thanks. I try.” She tugged off her boots and set them beside the tarp.
He glanced at her painted toenails—purple with little white daisies. “Did you do that?”
“Mm-hm.” She wiggled her toes. “I hate plain toenails. They’re like little wasted canvases.”
“You’re talented.”
Trails of Love Page 2
