Page 5 of One Kind Goal

Sawyer shifted closer. “Any particular reason for the interest?”

Her gaze connected with his. “Maybe.”

He’d take that. She obviously didn’t hold any grudge that they hadn’t stayed in contact. Might she be open to spending a little time with him again?

“Want to dance?” he asked.

Morgan slinked from the stool as if her body was liquid. He recalled that she had been amazingly flexible. Her body was toned, yet soft and . . . bendable.

Sawyer stood and took Morgan’s hand when she wiggled it at him. He followed her away from the table. Away from Teddy and Samira. Into the sea of dancers. The music was louder here, but they didn’t need to hear each other to talk. The moment Morgan found a free spot for them, he reached an arm around her waist and pulled her in close. When she didn’t protest, but instead slid her hands up to clasp them at the back of his neck, Sawyer couldn’t understand why he’d foolishly not kept in contact with her.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his lips right at her ear.

Another little tremor wiggled her body in his hold. “For what?”

“For not trying to keep this going.”

“Not solely your fault,” she said. “I could have done my part too.”

The music’s beat made her roll her hips a bit and Sawyer moved with her. If he had a magic wand right now, he’d make their clothes and all these other people disappear. They danced for a few songs, each one making Sawyer want to be alone with Morgan.

“I’ve been thinking about you,” he admitted.

She craned her head back a bit to look him in the eye, that sexy curve on her lips again. “And what have you been thinking?”

“That one night wasn’t nearly enough.”

Her smile grew then she rested her head on his shoulder and pressed a light kiss to his neck. “Want to go somewhere where we don’t have to yell directly in each other’s ears to be heard?”

“Yes, please.” He nipped her earlobe and that tremor happened again. Sawyer liked that tremor. A tremor filled with . . . need.

Morgan rolled her hips once more, an inviting look in her blue eyes that Sawyer wanted to R.S.V.P. to in the affirmative. Badly.

She led him back to the table where Samira and Teddy still sat, half-empty glasses between them now. Morgan didn’t let go of his hand, and Sawyer rather enjoyed the possessiveness of the small gesture.

“Hey,” she said, making Samira and Teddy look up. “We’re heading out.” Though those were the only words she’d said out loud, she and Samira appeared to have an entirely separate conversation with their facial expressions. Something along the lines of Are you sure? and Yes, I’ll be fine and Okay, call me tomorrow.

With a nod to Teddy, Sawyer let him know not to expect him back at the hotel room. Teddy didn’t mind. He’d probably not be going back alone if the way Samira was glued to him was any indication.

Morgan—still gripping Sawyer’s hand—weaved between groups of people and headed for the exit. Before she reached it, however, two women who looked exactly like her, aside from the different outfits they wore, stepped into her path.

“I’ve suffered from double vision due to concussions from hockey,” Sawyer said, “but never triple vision. Does this mean I’m dying?” He shook his head, but the three of them still stood solidly in front of him.

“These are my sisters,” Morgan said. “Claire, Brooke, and I are triplets.” She patted his chest. “So, good news, you’re not dying.”

Sawyer swiped a hand across his forehead. “Close call.”

She wiggled his arm then looked at her sisters. “Claire, Brooke, this is—”

“Sawyer Lundin,” Claire said. Even her voice sounded like Morgan’s.

“We’ve seen you on TV,” Brooke said. “Morgan always has your games on.”

“Okay, that’s enough of that,” Morgan said, tugging on his hand. “We’ve got somewhere else to be.” She stepped past her sisters, but then turned back toward them. “Where are your twins?”

“Getting their car,” Brooke said.

“And don’t worry,” Claire said. “We’ll be smart.” She put air quotes around those last two words then she and Brooke giggled.