Places In My Heart. Sheryl Lister

I enjoy a good comedy or action movie, but I prefer reading to television.”

      Surprise lit her eyes. “Reading?”

      “Yeah, you know...books.”

      “Wow, really, Omar? I would’ve never figured that out,” she said teasingly and rolled her eyes. The group laughed.

      Omar smiled. She’d called him by his first name, something she had never done before. Their easy rapport gave him hope that she would be receptive to his plan. They finished eating while talking, and afterward, three other guys convinced Omar to join them in a card game. He kept one eye on his cards and the other on Morgan, waiting for a chance to get her alone.

      His opportunity came three hands later when he saw her go inside. It took some serious patience to finish the game, especially since his partner seemed to contemplate every round. In Omar’s mind it was simple—you either had the card or you didn’t.

      Marcus Dupree, wide receiver, threw up his hands. “Grant, do you think we could finish this game before the season starts? We only have a month.”

      “My thoughts exactly,” Omar mumbled.

      “Patience, my brothers,” Lucas Grant said. “I have to get my strategy together.” The middle linebacker employed the same tactics when watching plays develop and stopping runs between the tackles. Though effective on the field, today it only irritated Omar.

      Omar shook his head. Minutes later, he tossed out his last card and stood. “Somebody else can take my spot. I’m done.” Without waiting for a reply, he headed for the sliding glass door that led to the kitchen and stepped inside. The sight of Morgan’s long bare legs stopped him in his tracks. She had changed into another pair of shorts that stretched taut over her backside as she reached for something in a cabinet. If he could just get one touch... Omar shook himself and quickly dismissed the notion.

      “I see you changed.”

      Morgan whirled around. “Oh. Drummond, you scared me.”

      Back to last names again. “Sorry.”

      She set the glass she had gotten on the counter and went to the refrigerator. “That’s okay. I had to shower. I can only take feeling grimy for so long.”

      It took him a moment to realize she had commented on his previous statement. “I hear you. But you played a good game.”

      “Are you referring to the interception or the touchdown?” she asked as she poured what looked like iced tea into the glass.

      “A little cocky, aren’t you?”

      She leaned against the counter, wrapped one arm around her middle and took a sip of her drink. “My game speaks for itself. Yours, on the other hand, can use some work.”

      Omar closed the distance between them and braced his hands on the counter on either side of her. “Is that a challenge?”

      She tilted her chin and stared at him intently. “You tell me.”

      Their faces were inches apart. Common sense told him he should back up, but he couldn’t. Not when her full, gloss-slicked lips were calling to him. Without thinking about the ramifications, he crushed his mouth against hers and slid his tongue inside when her lips parted on a startled gasp. She came up on tiptoe and met him stroke for stroke, causing him to groan.

      A second later Morgan stiffened and tore her mouth away. She pushed against his chest. “Move.”

      Omar dropped his arms. “Morgan, I—” She brushed past him, and he reached out to stop her.

      She slapped his hand away and kept walking.

      “Morgan, wait. I need to talk to you.”

      “I think you’ve said enough,” she called over her shoulder.

      He stared at her retreating back as she stormed out of the kitchen. He cursed under his breath and slammed his hand on the counter. “Brilliant, Drummond. Just brilliant,” he muttered. After that stupid move, she most likely wouldn’t listen to a word he had to say about his contract now. What had possessed him to kiss her? He had never been able to resist a challenge, and when she got in his face, her sexy, full lips and intoxicating fragrance had stripped him of his good judgment. As much as he wanted a repeat of one of the hottest kisses he’d ever experienced, he needed her expertise more. His desire would have to take a backseat. For now.

      * * *

      Morgan Gray jogged up the stairs, entered the bedroom she always used when she came to her brother’s house and closed the door. She slumped against it, closed her eyes and willed her trembling body calm. She couldn’t believe Omar had kissed her. Or that she’d kissed him back. It had lasted mere seconds, but the man had managed to unnerve her, something not easily done. And what a kiss. She reached up to touch her lips and then snatched her hand away. The man was fine as all get out, and she had seen the legions of women falling at his feet. If he was expecting her to act the same way, he had another think coming.

      Morgan jumped slightly when she heard the knock on the door behind her.

      “Morgan?”

      She opened the door. “Hey, Mal.”

      Malcolm’s brows knitted together. “What’s wrong?”

      “Nothing. Why?”

      “I don’t know. I just felt something.”

      She waved him off and started past him. “I think you make up half this stuff so you can be nosy.” No matter how much she tried to discount the whole psychic twin thing, her brother always knew when she was upset or bothered.

      He caught her arm. “You know better than that.”

      “There’s nothing wrong. I came up to shower and recover from my awesome game.”

      Malcolm scrutinized her a long moment, then nodded. “If you say so.”

      “I say so.” Morgan preceded him out of the room and back downstairs, where everyone still sat relaxing and chatting. She walked over to a small group engaged in a domino game and asked to play.

      Several times during the rest of the afternoon and into the early evening, she caught Omar staring her way and did her best to ignore him. He’d said he wanted to talk to her, and for a split second Morgan contemplated going over to ask about it. However, memories of that kiss kept her away. She’d have to be dead not to be attracted to him, but she wasn’t in the market for a relationship. Especially with another athlete.

      Finally the guests trickled out one by one, and she busied herself with retrieving purses and bags, hoping that Omar would be among the first to leave. But he stayed around until only he and one other teammate remained. She went to the kitchen to put away the food and begin the long cleanup process that always followed these gatherings. Not hearing any noise coming from the family room, she ventured out, thinking everyone had gone.

      “Oh, I thought everybody was gone,” she said upon seeing Omar and Malcolm engaged in a seemingly serious discussion. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

      Omar stood. “You aren’t. You’re more than welcome to join us.”

      “Um...that’s okay. I’m going upstairs.” Their eyes met, silently communicating that they had unfinished business, but she’d had enough for one evening. Morgan turned toward her brother, who slowly came to his feet and divided a speculative glance between her and Omar. “Malcolm, I put away most of the food, but you’ll have to tell me where you want the rest when you two are done. Come get me when you’re ready.”

      Malcolm nodded. “We shouldn’t be too long.”

      She tried to keep her eyes focused solely on Malcolm but failed.

      Omar smiled. “It was good to see you again, Morgan.”

      “Same here,” she mumbled and fled. She didn’t stop until she reached the safety of