Hooked by K. C. Falls Read Free Book Online Page A

next fever, the next headache, the next rash. The kid doesn't catch big fish 'cause he's never well enough to go that far from shore. The kid doesn't have any friends because he might catch something from them. The only friend he has is a dark-haired little girl who's just as pale and just as frightened as he is.
     

 
    Chapter 5--Lara
     
    I wasn't prepared when Morgan popped into the kitchen at seven-thirty the next morning. I hadn't slept at all after our encounter in the kitchen. And I was still more than a little shaken up by the memory of his naked body a few feet away from me. Putting that sight out of my immediate thoughts was on my list of goals for the morning. That and stowing away the provisions. I expected a parade of deliveries I hoped would arrive in time for us to make way on time. The distraction of my stubborn libido was not going to help me work more efficiently.
    I was on my knees in the pantry rearranging some dry goods to make room for incoming supplies. Considering the positively nuclear effect his presence had on me, I'm surprised I didn't sense him before he spoke.
    "Good morning, Chef."
    My head hit the shelf above me with a resounding thwack at the sound of his voice.
    "Good morning, Mr. Wolf." I rubbed the back of my skull. I was sure to have a knot there soon.
    He reached down to help me to my feet. He took both of my hands in his and I wound up standing close enough to him to smell his just-showered morning scent and feel the heat of his body. The masculine lines of his face had been sharpened by a clean shave. I had the urge to lean right into him. He emanated an energy that pulled on me somewhere deep in the hidden corners of my psyche. My whole body knew him.
    He took a step backward as if in retreat. Maybe he sensed my reaction.
    "I'd like a couple of poached eggs on wheat toast. Coffee. O.J.  and whatever fruit you've got that looks good." If he was at all embarrassed about being naked in front of me just hours before it didn't register on his face. He flashed his brilliant teeth at me as if a little voice had just whispered "you're supposed to smile now" in his ear.  His canine teeth were quite prominent and they gave his mouth a slightly feral look.
    He didn't give me a chance to answer. He just turned and left much like he had in the wee small hours. Under his crisp white shorts was an ass that I could only manage to think of as 'biteable'. I stared after him as the door made smaller and smaller swings. Swoosh, swoosh, swoos, swoo, swo, sw, s. When it finally came to a stop I unfroze and went to peek through the small window into the dining room. I stood on my tiptoes and watched him. He was seated at the table with his back to me reading something on his tablet. His bare feet rested on another chair. Like his hands, his feet were long and graceful.  There were white stripes where flip-flop straps had kept the sun away. I found that oddly sexy.
    Dark hair curled over his collar in shiny spirals that seemed to beg to be wrapped around my fingers. The pale lemon-colored shirt he wore accentuated the deep tan of his arms. I would come to recognize the shirt as his 'uniform'. I knew the brand. It was the shirt every angler or anyone who wanted to look like a serious fisherman wore. I'd seen them in a dozen colors on hundreds of men. Somehow, none of them ever made the utilitarian garment look quite as fine. Somewhere, a Columbia ad was missing a model.
    I gave myself a mental shake. Was there something completely screwed up in me that caused me to be stupidly and instantly attracted to all the wrong kinds of men? Because certainly there was nothing about Morgan Wolf's behavior or demeanor that suggested he even recognized me as an actual human being. I had already dismissed the hard-on as a bizarre reaction to a surprise situation. No, I was just a cook who happened to be able to recognize a Renoir when I saw one. Big deal.
    My idiotic and completely unrequited crush on my former asshole