Places in My Heart (8 page)

“Thank you.”

“But...since we're not in public right now...”

When he covered her mouth and gave her another long, intoxicating kiss, Morgan couldn't have been happier that they were not in public.

* * *

Omar fed on Morgan's luscious kisses and marveled at how well her mouth fit with his. As he'd told her, he liked to savor his desserts, and he took his time sampling her sweetness. He sucked and licked every delicious inch of her mouth. Her taste was addictive and he couldn't get enough. The sound of her low moans in his ear and the way she returned his kiss with equal fervor fueled his passions, and he grew harder with each sensual moment. Reaching up, he removed the band holding her hair in a ponytail. The curly dark brown and golden-highlighted strands fell like a curtain around her face, and he sucked in a sharp breath. He was on the brink of losing control and forced himself to rein in his runaway desire. “We should probably slow down. Otherwise we're going to end up in your bed,” he murmured, still trailing kisses along her jaw.

“Mmm, you're probably right,” Morgan said.

Omar stared into her honey-brown eyes and couldn't resist one more. He leaned back against the sofa, tightened his arm around her and closed his eyes, willing his body to a calmer state.

“You probably think I'm a bad hostess. I didn't even offer you anything to drink.”

“You're not a bad hostess at all. And you offered me something much sweeter.”

She moved out of his embrace and stood. “This line of conversation is going to put us right back in dangerous territory.”

He came to his feet, slid an arm around her waist and nuzzled her neck. “Yep, but I can't seem to help myself when I'm around you.”

She laughed. “Mmm-hmm, knock it off. You've gotten all the kisses you're getting for tonight. Now, do you want something to drink?” Morgan took his hand and led him to her kitchen.

He noticed papers spread on the kitchen table and a half-filled mug. “I didn't realize you'd been working. Sorry.”

“It's no biggie. I was just checking stats, doing some calculations and making notations.”

Omar peered into the cup, but because of the mug's dark coloring he couldn't determine the contents. “Are you drinking coffee this late in the day?”

“No, mint tea. I'm not a big coffee drinker. The only coffee addict in our family is Brandon. What about you?”

“I drink it sometimes, but I try to keep my intake down, especially when I'm training. Then it's mostly water.”

“I have some iced tea.”

“Can I get a rain check? I should get going. I had only planned to stop by for a minute to check on you.”

“Sure.”

“Walk me out?”

At the door, she gestured toward his motorcycle. “Nice bike.”

“I'll take you riding anytime you want.”

“I'd like that.”

Omar knew he should leave, but he couldn't get his feet to move.

“You're looking at me like that again,” Morgan said with amusement.

“I'm going.” He placed a quick kiss on her lips. “See you later. Lock up.”

“I will.”

Letting his gaze roam over her face once more, he turned and loped down the walkway. He wanted nothing more than to make love to her, but the last time he jumped into a relationship with both feet, he had come away with both his reputation and his heart in shreds. He needed to slow down. It would be a huge undertaking, but this time he planned to proceed with caution.

Chapter 8

M
onday evening, Morgan made it to the dance studio fifteen minutes before her class began. She rushed into the dressing room and changed out of her navy suit and into her dancewear. She waved to Brooke, whose tap class was in the middle of practicing Michael Jackson's “Jam,” and continued to her classroom.

“Hey, guys,” she called out to the students.

“Hi, Ms. Gray,” they chorused.

One student said, “I didn't know that our Michael Jackson song is from 1979. That's
old
.”

Morgan laughed. She guessed that to a thirteen-year-old, any song older than five years would be considered old. She and Brooke wanted to highlight the many facets the popular performer's music and had included songs that spanned his forty-plus-year career, choosing “Burn This Disco Out” from his
Off the Wall
album for Morgan's hip-hop dance class. “Okay, everybody. Let me see what you've got.”

The students got into their positions, and Morgan started the music. She walked the room, correcting where needed and giving the thumbs up when they mastered a section of the song. By the end of the class, the students performed the piece without one misstep.

After dismissing the class, Brooke sauntered over. “I like it.”

“So do I.”

“I hope the dances you and I do turn out as well.”

“Girl, that's no problem for you. Me, on the other hand...” Morgan shook her head. “I'm still a little leery about getting on the stage.”

“You'll do fine. Let's see it. What song did you choose?”

Fiddling with her iPod, she mumbled, “‘I Can't Help It.'”

“Hmm. Okay.” Brooke came over and eased it from Morgan's hand. “You get into position and I'll start it.”

She nodded, moved to the center of the room and positioned herself. The music started and she went through the choreographed moves. At the end, she turned to Brooke. “Well?”

“The moves are all there, but you're missing the passion. Stop holding back, Morgan. Feel the music.”

“Okay.” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Start it again.” This time, she let the music take over and focused on the lyrics. Soon she was lost, and thoughts of the kisses she and Omar shared last night emerged. The chorus summed up the emotional struggle she had been battling. She told him she'd see him in private, but after he'd left, she wondered if it was the right decision. But she didn't know if she would be able to fight her growing attraction toward him any longer. Or if she really wanted to anymore.

“Now
that's
what I'm talking about,” Brooke said with a huge grin when the song ended. “I could feel the emotional pull. I knew you hadn't lost your edge.” She threw her arms around Morgan. “If the kids' performances don't pull in some money, yours definitely will.”

Morgan laughed. “You're laying it on pretty thick, aren't you? I already said I'd do the dance.” While the studio had a good number of paying students, Brooke wanted to be able to offer classes to all students and didn't want money to be a barrier. The money raised would go a long way in helping to expand classes and provide funds to hire two more teachers. Brooke also had plans to purchase the newly vacated building next door to create a larger studio.

“Yeah, but I know you. You said the same thing last year but changed your mind.”

“You would bring that up.”

Brooke gave her a sidelong glance.

“I promise I won't change my mind.”

“Good. Now tell me what's going on with you and Mr. Sexy.”

“There's nothing going on,” she said.

“No? That dance tells me things are heating up. And please don't try to tell me it's nothing.” Brooke laughed. “This is the point where I say ‘I told you so' about that no-kissing rule.”

Heat stung her cheeks. “Everything was going according to plan until last night. He's working to open a mental health center for veterans and plans to be on staff as a clinical psychologist when his football career is over. I went with him to a fund-raiser for the center this past weekend.”

“You went as his date?” Brooke asked with surprise. She pulled out her phone and started typing.

“No, as his agent. It was sort of our announcement. Anyway, some pictures showed up in the paper yesterday, and Brandon saw them.” She gave Brooke the details of the blowup at the family dinner. “I could've killed him. I wanted to tell them in my own time, but now it's a mess. My parents didn't look too happy about it, especially my dad. I know he's thinking my taking on Omar will interfere with me handling the lawsuit.”

“I'm sure your parents will come around. And these photos were nice. You two look good together.” She held up her phone briefly, then went back to reading. “The article seemed to question Omar's sanity for dumping someone who's considered to be the agent of agents.”

“Yeah, and it didn't help that said agent showed up and tried to make a scene.”

Brooke's eyes went wide.
“Really?”

Morgan nodded and rubbed a hand across her forehead. “Called me out of my name, threatened Omar.”

“I'm surprised I didn't read about the man being punched in the face. It has happened before,” Brooke added.

She smiled. “Believe me, I wanted to. I had a hard time restraining myself.” In high school, one of the more popular football players had tried coming on to Morgan. She'd turned him down flat because he had a reputation for sleeping around and getting rough with some of the girls. He made the mistake of getting in her face and calling her a name, and Morgan sent him home with a black eye. She had worked hard over the years to learn to keep her temper in check. “Instead, I told him he'd be in court if he said anything about me or my client.”

“See, I miss all the good stuff.”

“It was fine up to that point. I got a couple of sideways looks, but other than that...” She shrugged.

Brooke waved a hand. “Back to the good stuff. Sounds like Mr. Drummond might have some potential.”

“Maybe. I thought he was like most of the other playboy athletes, but the more I learn about him and spend time with him, the more I'm starting to like him. You should've heard him speak. He was
amazing
. It was a totally different side of him that the media has never shown.”

“So, what are you going to do?”

Morgan sighed. “I agreed to see him in private until after his new contract is signed, but I'm starting to wonder if it might be a bad idea.”

“You just said he's not at all what you expected based on the media, so I don't understand why it's a bad idea.”

“He's still an athlete,” she said with a pointed look. Her pro basketball player boyfriend had turned out to be arrogant enough for ten people. He'd foolishly believed that Morgan would stand by while he entertained groupies when on the road, and had the audacity to tell her, “Hey, it's not like I'm going to see them again. It's you I'm coming home to.” She promised herself she would never date another athlete, but was now on the cusp of breaking her own vow. She gathered up her belongings and followed Brooke out.

Brooke stopped at the space she used as an office. “Not all athletes are the same, Morgan.”

“I know. But, remember—” Her cell buzzed in her hand, preempting what she planned to say. Morgan looked down at the display and saw Omar's number. “Speaking of.” She connected the call. “Hey, Omar.”

“Hey, beautiful. Is this a bad time?”

“No. What's up?”

“I have a proposition for you. You said we could be together in private, correct?”

“Yes,” she said warily.

“Come away with me this weekend to my cabin.”

“Your cabin in the mountains?” she blurted before remembering Brooke was still standing there. Brooke folded her arms, and a sly smile spread across her lips. Morgan shot her a look. “Um... I don't know, Omar.”

“We can discuss the contract. You asked me if I was going to be around next weekend so we could talk, didn't you?”

“Yes, but—”

“Then it's perfect. We can talk without being interrupted, and you can get things done on your case from work if you want, too.”

“Can I let you know in a couple of days?” She really needed to think about being alone with him in the mountains. Just the thought made her heart beat faster.

“All right. Will it help if I promise to let you set the pace? No denying I want to make love to you, but only when you're ready.”

Her eyes slid closed. “Yeah, it helps.”

“I
am
going to need at least two kisses a day, though,” Omar said with a chuckle.

Morgan smiled. “I have to go. I'll call you.”

“Night, baby.”

“Good night.” She ended the call and glanced over at Brooke's smiling face. “Don't say one word, Brooke Alexander.”

“I wasn't going to say anything,” she said with feigned innocence.

“I'm going home.”

“See you on Thursday for the dress rehearsal.”

“Okay. I like the idea of doing it a week earlier instead of the day before. Gives us a couple more rehearsals to iron out all the kinks.”

“Me, too. That's why I chose to change it for this year. Last year, the kids were frantic about not having enough time to fix mistakes. It also means you'll have time to work out the kinks in yours. And after that phone call, I can't see you having any problems with a flawless performance. You should invite Omar to the show.”

“No way. He doesn't even know about this place.”

“I, for one, think he'd
really
enjoy that dance. You've already kissed him and agreed to see him, so...”

“I thought you weren't going to say anything.” Animated voices rounded the corner and called out greetings, which she and Brooke returned.

“I didn't say anything. Gotta go.” Brooke strolled off with a wave.

Muttering under her breath about traitorous best friends, Morgan pushed through the door and was met with a warm breeze. Despite it being eight in the evening, the July heat had not totally abated.

As she drove home, Omar's offer weighed heavily on her mind. She appreciated him allowing her to set the limits, but they both knew if she decided to go, it would signal a change in their relationship.

* * *

“Hey, Mom,” Omar said into the cell as he got out of his car and walked across the lot to the Cobras' practice facility. Inside, he nodded at the front desk staff, went through a door leading down a hallway and mouthed greetings to his teammates. He exited out the back and took the tunnel leading to the practice field.

“Hello, Omar. I was calling to see if you were still alive since I haven't heard from you.”

“It's only been a couple of weeks.”

“Well, that's two weeks too long.”

He chuckled. “I'll try to get by the restaurant or the house soon. I promise.”

“All right.”

“Love you.”

“I love you, too. Don't make me have to put out a search and rescue call.”

“I won't,” he said laughing and said his goodbyes. When Rashad went into the service and wasn't able to communicate with the family consistently, she worried constantly. So when Omar left for college, she insisted on him checking in at least every couple of weeks. Years later, she still expected him and his brother to check in.

Omar went out and stood on the sidelines to watch the practice. While he and the other veterans didn't have to report to camp for another two weeks, he liked to get a sense of the new players' strengths and weaknesses. He saw Marcus jogging in his direction.

“I see you're doing the same thing I am,” Marcus said when he reached Omar.

“Yeah. How's it going?”

“I don't know. Still a little worried about the other receiver position. Colin's not going to be ready.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I just talked to him.” They watched a second-string receiver miss an easy pass and groaned. “You may be filling in this season, too,” Marcus cracked.

Omar chuckled. “We'll see.”

“Were you able to get in touch with my brother?”

He nodded. “Thanks. I hadn't thought about contacting him initially because I assumed he was an agent.”

“Jae? He doesn't have the patience. I barely convinced him to do my contract. Speaking of agents, I heard you have a new one.”

“You heard right.”

“I don't know how Morgan is as an agent, but the woman has a hell of a game. I couldn't believe she intercepted that pass at Malcolm's picnic. I didn't even see her until she'd snatched the ball out of the air.” He shook his head. “Instead of her being your agent, maybe we ought to see about signing her.”

He laughed. “She'd love that.” He had never met a woman who enjoyed football as much as he did.

Marcus shook his head and sighed again. Gesturing toward the field, he said, “I think this young fella needs some help. I'll catch you later. Oh, let me know how it works out with Morgan. If she's half as good an agent as she is a player, I might have to fire my brother.”

Grinning, Omar said, “I'll keep you posted.” While most people had been cordial when he'd introduced Morgan as his new agent, Marcus was the first person who didn't question the change or consider her a liability.

“Hey, Drummond.”

He shifted his attention to the man who had joined him. “What's up, Colin? How's the knee?”

Colin blew out a long breath. “For some reason there's still some swelling, and my range of motion is at minus eighteen degrees. The doc won't sign off and says I'll miss preseason and probably the first few games of the regular season.”

“That's a tough break. Sorry to hear it.” With Colin coming up on age thirty-five, Omar realized it might be harder for the receiver to make a comeback.