Midnight Sun Quotes

“Charity thought of the Yukon, the dream of adventure that had carried her so far from her home, and the turn of fate that had led to the place she stood now, in the arms of the man she loved.
And she smiled.”
― Kat Martin, Midnight Sun

“I’ll never make the mistake I made before, Charity. I’ll never let work come between us. Family is the most precious thing a man can have. But it’s time I got on with my life. You helped teach me that.” He slid the engagement ring onto the third finger of her trembling left hand.
“Oh, Call, it’s beautiful. Magnificent.”
“It shouldn’t be hard for you to find an editing job if you decide that’s what you want to do. We’ll buy a house somewhere…Bainbridge Island, maybe. Not too far from the city but not too close, either. Someplace with a little room, maybe some acreage. The kind of place that would be good for raising kids.”
He wanted to have children! Happy tears glittered in her eyes. “That sounds perfect.”
“Come on,” Call said, taking her hand. “Let’s get out of here.” As they made their way back inside the ballroom, heading for the door and Call’s suite on the fourteenth floor, she saw Deirdre at the table sitting next to Jeremy.
Charity smiled at her best friend and held up her hand. She pointed to the ring and mouthed the words, “We’re getting married!”
Deirdre said a not-so-silent, “Yes!” And in a highly undignified moment, shot her arm up into the air.”
― Kat Martin, Midnight Sun

“I’m going to make it easy for the bastards to find me. When they do, I’ll have a little surprise waiting for them.”
Her worry heightened and a knot clenched in her stomach. “You’re going to set a trap and you’re planning to use yourself as bait.”
He turned his attention to her. “More or less. I’m going to stop hiding and see what crawls out of the woodwork when I do.”
“Why don’t you just pin a target on your back and parade around downtown Seattle until someone shoots you?”
― Kat Martin, Midnight Sun

“Buck called Mose’s cabin a landmark,” Call said casually, though Toby had the feeling it wasn’t a casual remark. “Mose once told me part of the original structure dates back to the Gold Rush days. I think it’d make him feel real bad if it didn’t get rebuilt.”
Charity looked up at him, alert for the first time since she had walked into the living room. “I can’t rebuild. I don’t have that kind of money.”
“I do,” Call said.
“I can’t take your money, Call. I won’t. Not even for that.”
“All right, if that’s the way you feel. Maybe we could work something out…an option or something. You’re planning to leave eventually. I’ve always wanted to buy the place. Maybe you could agree to sell it to me when you’re ready to head back to the city.”
He said it as if the idea had just cropped up, but Toby knew him better than that. Call had the money to rebuild the cabin and he knew how much Charity had come to love the old place. And whether Call was willing to admit it or not, he wanted Charity to stay.
“I-I don’t know.”
“Grama and I would help,” Jenny said excitedly. “And if Mr. Hawkins doesn’t mind, I’m sure Toby would pitch in, too.” She looked at him as if he were the kind of man she could count on and Toby felt an odd little quiver around his heart.
“Jenny’s right,” Toby agreed. “All of us would help. It might be fun to build a real log cabin--and part of it is already there.”
“You’ve got time to decide,” Call said gently. “You don’t have to start building today.”
“That’s right,” Maude said. “Next week would be just fine.”
Toby looked at Jenny and both of them laughed. Charity actually smiled. Then her smile slowly faded. “I appreciate the offer, but I’ll still need some time to think about it.”
Call frowned and Toby inwardly grinned. McCall Hawkins hadn’t become one of the most successful men in the country by taking no for an answer. Toby wondered how long it would be before the first truckload of logs came rolling up the hill.”
― Kat Martin, Midnight Sun

“Bob Wychek here. Any chance you could drop by my shop sometime today?”
“As it happens, I’m on my way to town right now. What’s up?”
“I’d rather show you, eh? See you at the shop in what? Forty-five minutes?”
“I’ll be there,” Call said, and hung up the phone.
“One of your girlfriends?” Charity asked, casting him a look.
Call’s eyebrow arched at the faint note of jealousy she hoped he wouldn’t hear. “Bob Wychek. He’s the guy who’s been working on my plane. I think he may have figured out what went wrong with the engine.”
“I know what went wrong. It coughed a couple of times and turned itself off and the propeller stopped going around.”
“Very funny,” he said dryly but both of them grinned.”
― Kat Martin, Midnight Sun

“Hi, sorry to bother you. I’m Tyler Johnson. I’m looking for my dad. I thought he might be over here.” Tyler Johnson was as big as his father but a lot better looking, with his father’s dark hair and brown eyes. The way Buck might have looked twenty years ago.
“Your father’s over there in the corner,” Call said. “He’s about to go to jail for assaulting Ms. Sinclair.”
― Kat Martin, Midnight Sun

“Damn.” He let go of her legs and she slid the length of his long, hard body. “I didn’t mean for that to happen.”
She managed a wobbly smile. “I think I’ve heard those words before.”
Call raked a hand through his hair. “What is it about you?”
She sighed. “I don’t know, but I hope no one was looking in the window.”
He glanced across the living room. “Toby’s out back.” But he reached down and picked up her clothes, handed them over.”
― Kat Martin, Midnight Sun

“I just…I didn’t like the idea of him being over there with you.”
Her legs felt weak. How could he do that with just a single kiss? He let her go but she wished he hadn’t. “I had no idea Jeremy was going to show up on my doorstep. If I’d had the slightest idea of his intentions, I would have tried to head him off.”
“What exactly were his intentions?”
She kept her eyes on his face. “Jeremy came here to ask me to marry him.”
His jaw went hard. Call walked over to the window, stared off toward the cabin. “Yeah, well, he looks like a pretty good catch. Expensive shoes. Wall Street haircut. Oozing with slick New York polish. What’d you say?”
“What do you think I said? I said no, dammit. I’m not interested in finding a ‘good catch.’ I wouldn’t marry a man unless I loved him. I don’t love Jeremy Hauser.”
Call said nothing. He gazed out the window, then slowly turned to face her. “Look, Charity. Even if you aren’t interested in Hauser, maybe it’s just as well this happened. After you left, I started doing some thinking. We were getting pretty involved. You know how I feel about that.”
“Pretty involved? We spent the weekend together, Call. We slept together. We enjoyed ourselves. It wasn’t any big deal.” If he could dish it out, so could she. And she could tell by the scowl on his face that she had hit a nerve.
“No big deal?” His expression was dark as he strode toward her, hauled her back into his arms. “We screwed like minks for hours and you call it no big deal?” She gasped as his mouth crushed down over hers.”
― Kat Martin, Midnight Sun

“Your boyfriend leave already?”
She glanced toward the kitchen, saw Toby disappear out the back door, leaving them alone. “He isn’t my boyfriend. At least he’s not anymore.”
Hard blue eyes bored into her. “So what then? You just invited him in and gave him a farewell fuck?”
Oh, dear. He was madder than she thought. She wasn’t sure if that was a good sign or bad. “I let him spend the night, but I didn’t sleep with him.”
“Yeah, right. And the New York Yankees are gonna lose the pennant this year.”
“I didn’t sleep with Jeremy. I didn’t want to. I don’t have those kinds of feelings for him anymore.”
“So I’m supposed to believe the two of you stayed together in a two-room cabin and he didn’t wind up in your bed.”
Her own temper heated. “I’m not a liar, Call. I especially wouldn’t lie about something like that.”
He stared at her for several long moments, then a weary sigh escaped. “I’m sorry.” He walked toward her, dragged her into his arms, and very thoroughly kissed her. “I just…I didn’t like the idea of him being over there with you.”
― Kat Martin, Midnight Sun

“I’d planned to stay all week. Now I’ll have to reschedule, try to get a flight out sometime tomorrow.” He dragged out his cell phone, started to punch in numbers.
“Um, I’m afraid that won’t work. You’ll have to walk up the hill a little to get any sort of reception.”
He gave her a look that said What the hell kind of place is this? Making his way outside, he climbed up the hill to make the call and came back a few minutes later.
Charity couldn’t help thinking that for a man who was supposed to be madly in love, he was taking this very well.
“I was able to make connections tomorrow,” he said. “You don’t mind if I spend the night, do you?”
Of course she minded! Having Jeremy as a houseguest was the last thing she wanted. But hey, the man had come all this way to propose. She could hardly toss him out on his ear.”
― Kat Martin, Midnight Sun

“There was a car parked in the driveway. She hadn’t seen what appeared to be a rental car, a light blue Ford Taurus, drive up the hill, and apparently neither had Call.
“Looks like you’ve got company,” he said.
“Looks like. I wonder who it is.” Just then, the door swung and a man stood framed in the opening. Charity froze in her tracks as Jeremy Hauser stepped out on the porch.
For a moment she just stood there, her stomach churning, trying to convince herself she was still asleep and this was a very bad dream.
Please God, I promise to be a good girl if you’ll just…She didn’t finish the mantra. The fervent prayer hadn’t worked when she was a kid wanting a new pony and it wasn’t going to make Jeremy disappear.”
― Kat Martin, Midnight Sun

“Don’t tell me you want to marry him?” He said it like a dirty word and Charity’s mouth went dry.
“Of course not.” She didn’t, did she? “Call’s a very…” Nice was hardly the word for Call Hawkins. Arrogant, obstinate, domineering. Capable, intelligent, protective, the sexiest man she’d ever met. “He’s just a friend.”
“A sleeping-together sort of friend.”
“The point is--”
“The point is, you and Paul Bunyan have some kind of thing going and I’m no longer in the picture.”
― Kat Martin, Midnight Sun

“You can use one of the damned computers.”
Charity grinned. Leaning forward, she gave him a smacking kiss on the cheek. “You’re a real pal, Hawkins.”
He fixed her with a glare. “Yeah, well, wait till you hear the favor I want in return.”
― Kat Martin, Midnight Sun

“If I could track my family back that far, maybe I could find a link to one of the Stampeders who climbed the trail.”
One of his eyebrows went up. “You’re talking about genealogy.”
“Exactly.”
“And the favor is…?”
“I want to use one of your computers.”
“No.”
“Why not? You’ve got three of them. You can’t use them all at once.”
Because that would mean you’d be over here all the time and that is the last thing I want. His mouth tightened. He couldn’t do this, dammit. He scrambled through a dozen lame excuses, finally settled on one. “I wouldn’t be able to concentrate with you in the room with me.” Now that was the truth.
Charity gave him a syrupy smile and replied in a thick Southern accent. “Why, Call, sugar, that is the sweetest thing you have ever said.”
“Dammit, Charity, that office is where I do business.”
“Come on, we’re neighbors. Besides, you owe me. Aren’t I lying in this bed because you crashed the plane I was flying in?”
He could feel the blood draining out of his face.
“I’m sorry,” she said quickly, sitting up in the bed. “I was only kidding. What happened wasn’t your fault--we both know that. The engine went out, for God’s sake. You don’t owe me anything. In fact, you rescued me, probably saved my life.”
Call eased her gently back down. “It might not have been my fault, but I do owe you.” he sighed, raked his fingers through his hair. “You can use one of the damned computers.”
Charity grinned. Leaning forward, she gave him a smacking kiss on the cheek. “You’re a real pal, Hawkins.”
He fixed her with a glare. “Yeah, well, wait till you hear the favor I want in return.”
― Kat Martin, Midnight Sun

“She cried herself out in a couple of minutes, sniffed a little, and wiped her eyes on the tail of his shirt. “Thanks for the shoulder.”
“Considering I’m the guy who got you here, it’s the least I could do.”
― Kat Martin, Midnight Sun

“Call?”
He eased back a little, cradled her cheek in one of his big, tanned hands. “What is it, baby?”
“I think I’m going to cry but I don’t want you to think I’m a sissy.”
He smoothed back her hair, looped it over her ear. “I won’t think you’re a sissy. You were great up there. Terrific. I wouldn’t want to crash my plane with anyone else.”
― Kat Martin, Midnight Sun

“It’s all right, baby, it’s over. You’re safe now. Everything’s going to be fine.” She could feel his heartbeat, his pulse racing nearly as fast as her own.
She swallowed, fought back tears of relief. “Will they…will they be able to find us?”
“They know where we are. They’ll send a search plane or a chopper. I’ve got flares in my emergency gear.”
She nodded, pressed herself tighter against him, felt his arms tighten in return. “Call?”
He eased back a little, cradled her cheek in one of his big, tanned hands. “What is it, baby?”
“I think I’m going to cry but I don’t want you to think I’m a sissy.”
He smoothed back her hair, looped it over her ear. “I won’t think you’re a sissy. You were great up there. Terrific. I wouldn’t want to crash my plane with anyone else.”
She did start crying then and Call just held her, letting her cry against his shoulder. His wool shirt felt rough and warm beneath her cheek and the smell of smoke seeped up from the fabric. It felt good just to be standing there in the circle of his arms.
She cried herself out in a couple of minutes, sniffed a little, and wiped her eyes on the tail of his shirt. “Thanks for the shoulder.”
“Considering I’m the guy who got you here, it’s the least I could do.”
She managed a wobbly smile. “You were great, Call. I think you saved our lives.”
He shrugged, looked a little embarrassed. “I just did what I’ve been taught to do.”
She didn’t argue, but she thought that under the same circumstances someone else might not have done half so good a job.
And less than half wouldn’t have been nearly enough.”
― Kat Martin, Midnight Sun

“So it’s just a one-night stand.”
His head came up. Eyes as blue as the sky bored into her. “In case you haven’t noticed, the sun is still up.”
“The sun is always up in this place. What does that have to do with anything?”
He pulled on his shirt and she suddenly wished he were bare-chested again. “It has to do with the fact that the night hasn’t even begun.”
― Kat Martin, Midnight Sun

“So it’s just a one-night stand.”
His head came up. Eyes as blue as the sky bored into her. “In case you haven’t noticed, the sun is still up.”
― Kat Martin, Midnight Sun

“For long seconds, neither of them moved. The only sound in the forest was the wind luffing through the trees, their labored breathing, and the soft thud of their heartbeats.
Then Call muttered something beneath his breath. Gathering his long limbs, he lifted himself away from her and regained his feet. His shaft was still hard, big and thick and jutting forward through his open fly as if they hadn’t just made wildly passionate love. Call rid himself of the condom, zipped his faded jeans, and turned to find her groping for her sweater, pulling it on to cover her naked breasts.
Swearing, he reached down and snatched up her jeans and pink satin panties, which were tangled together and refused to come apart.
“Here.”
She blushed as he unwound the fabric, handing her first the panties, then the jeans, which she hurriedly pulled on.
She didn’t look at him. Her cheeks were hot and her lacy pink bra still lay embarrassingly on the ground. She snatched it up and stuffed it into the pocket of her jeans.
Charity swallowed, made herself turn and face him, tried to muster some sort of smile. “I…um…I don’t suppose we can blame this on your relief at finding me alive and safe.”
He shook his head, his eyes still fixed on her face. “I don’t think so.”
“Just lust then, I suppose.”
He shrugged those wide shoulders and she wished he would put his shirt back on so she didn’t have to remember all that smooth muscle moving beneath her hands.
“So it’s just a one-night stand.”
His head came up. Eyes as blue as the sky bored into her. “In case you haven’t noticed, the sun is still up.”
“The sun is always up in this place. What does that have to do with anything?”
He pulled on his shirt and she suddenly wished he were bare-chested again. “It has to do with the fact that the night hasn’t even begun.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “You’re not…you’re not saying what I think you are.”
“I’m saying exactly what you think I am. If you believe what just happened is anything besides a warm-up, sugar, you had better think again. If I wasn’t worried that Maude might sent the Mounties up here to find us if we don’t get back soon, we’d start over again right here.”
“B-but you said…we both said--”
“I know exactly what we said. It’s a little late to be worrying about that now.” He looked at her and his deep voice softened. “Besides, I never really believed one night with you would be enough.”
Relief trickled through her. Whatever was happening between them, it wasn’t over yet. She gave him a reluctant smile. “I never believed it either.”
“Come on.” Call reached out and caught her hand. “It’s Friday. We’ve got the whole weekend ahead of us. Maybe by Monday, we’ll have had enough of each other.”
“Maybe,” she said. But Charity didn’t really believe it and from the burning glance Call gave her, she didn’t think he did either.”
― Kat Martin, Midnight Sun

“She wanted to feel his hands and his mouth all over her, wanted him inside her, wanted to be so close she couldn’t tell where one of them ended and the other began. She felt as if she had morphed into someone else, some wild creature she didn’t even know. As if her body were some alien, newly unearthed part of her that she could no longer control.
She didn’t notice when he slid her jeans and pink satin panties down over her hips, but roused a little when he dragged a small foil packet out of the wallet in his hip pocket and tore it open. She caught the sound of his zipper sliding down.
A hand she didn’t recognize as her own reached out for him, wrapped around the thick, heavy weight of his sex, held him while he slid on the condom, then guided him between her parted legs.
“God, Charity…” With a single deep thrust, Call buried himself inside her.
The moment he did, she started to come.
“Christ.” His muscles went rigid. In some vague corner of her mind, she realized he was fighting for control.
Charity cried out his name and clung to his neck, unable to believe how quickly she had reached her peak. She knew the moment he gave up his struggle to hold himself back, felt him begin to move, felt the deep thrust and drag of his shaft against the walls of her passage. She felt the power of the man above her and the deep, saturating pleasure as a second climax shook her.
Beneath her hands, hard muscle tightened and Call groaned. The sinews in his hips flexed and moved as he pumped himself inside her, then came with incredible force, his body going rigid, his shoulders glowing with a sheen of perspiration.
For long seconds, neither of them moved. The only sound in the forest was the wind luffing through the trees, their labored breathing, and the soft thud of their heartbeats.”
― Kat Martin, Midnight Sun

“Hey, Call! You over here? Call! Is everything all right?”
She whimpered as he whipped his mouth away and softly cursed. With an unsteady hand, he jerked down her sweatshirt and stepped protectively in front of her, leaving her shielded behind his body and the trunk of the tree.
“Everything’s fine, Toby.” His voice sounded raspy. She wondered if his friend would notice.
“I thought I heard shots,” Toby said, “but I was cooking so I didn’t pay all that much attention. Then I went into the living room and found the front door open. When I saw your rifle gone from the rack, I was afraid something bad might have happened.”
“Our neighbor, Ms. Sinclair, came nose to nose with her first black bear.” Call looked her way, gave her a quick once-over, saw that she didn’t look too disheveled, and tugged her out from behind the tree. “Charity Sinclair, meet Toby Jenkins. Toby’s chief-cook-and-bottle-washer over at my place, and all-around handyman. At least he is till he leaves for college in the fall. Toby, this is Ms. Sinclair, our new neighbor.”
“Nice to meet you, ma’am. I heard Mose sold the place. I’ve been meaning to come over and say hello.”
“Forget the ma’am,” Charity told him. “It makes me feel too old. Charity is enough.”
He nodded, smiled. He was young, maybe nineteen or twenty, with thick, dark red hair and a few scattered freckles, sort of a young John Kennedy, an attractive boy with what appeared to be a pleasant disposition. She wondered if he could tell by looking at her what had been going on when he arrived. Then she noticed Call’s shirt was open and missing a button and felt her face heating up again.
Call cleared his throat. “I’ll be home in a couple of minutes, Toby.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll have your breakfast waiting.” With a wave good-bye, he set off down the path the way he had come.
When Charity turned, she saw Call watching her, his face dark, his expression closed up as it usually was. “I didn’t mean for that to happen.”
Oh, God. He was obviously sorry it had and it made her even more embarrassed. “Neither did I. I don’t make a habit of…of…I don’t exactly know what happened.” She studied her feet, then stared off toward the creek. “It must have been the fear, you know? They say when your life is threatened you revert to your most basic instincts.”
She risked a glance at him, saw that his jaw looked iron-hard. “Yeah, that must be it.”
She glanced away, trying not to think of what they’d just done.
Trying not to wonder what would have happened if Toby hadn’t arrived when he did.
“You’d better go,” she said, making an effort to smile. “Your breakfast is waiting and I’ve got work to do.”
As she started to turn, the sun peeked out from behind a cloud, casting shadows beneath his cheekbones and the little indentation on his chin. He didn’t move when she grabbed the plastic bag of garbage and headed for one of the heavy iron trash cans that were supposed to be bear-proof.
She saw him walk over and pick up his rifle, his fingers wrapping around the stock with a casual ease that said he was comfortable with the weapon. He didn’t walk away as she expected. Instead, he stood there watching, waiting until she disappeared inside the house.”
― Kat Martin, Midnight Sun

“Tell him to stop, a voice inside her said, but all she could think was that Jeremy had never kissed her like this. He had never made her feel like this--not once in the two years they had been together. No one had ever made her feel like this.
And she didn’t want the moment to end.
Her brain seemed to shut down just then, leaving her body in control. Desire curled like mist through her veins. She fumbled with the buttons on the front of his denim shirt, tore one of them off in her haste to touch him. She jerked the fabric apart and slid her hands inside, pressed her trembling palms against his bare chest.
Thick bands of muscle tightened. Crisp brown chest hair curled around the tips of her fingers, and ridges of muscle rippled down his flat stomach. Call made a sound in his throat and a shudder ran the length of his body.
His mouth still clung to hers. He jerked up her sweatshirt, cupped her breasts over her white lace bra, and started to work the catch beneath the tiny bow at the front.
“Hey, Call! You over here? Call! Is everything all right?”
She whimpered as he whipped his mouth away and softly cursed. With an unsteady hand, he jerked down her sweatshirt and stepped protectively in front of her, leaving her shielded behind his body and the trunk of the tree.
“Everything’s fine, Toby.” His voice sounded raspy. She wondered if his friend would notice.
“I thought I heard shots,” Toby said, “but I was cooking so I didn’t pay all that much attention. Then I went into the living room and found the front door open. When I saw your rifle gone from the rack, I was afraid something bad might have happened.”
“Our neighbor, Ms. Sinclair, came nose to nose with her first black bear.” Call looked her way, gave her a quick once-over, saw that she didn’t look too disheveled, and tugged her out from behind the tree. “Charity Sinclair, meet Toby Jenkins. Toby’s chief-cook-and-bottle-washer over at my place, and all-around handyman. At least he is till he leaves for college in the fall. Toby, this is Ms. Sinclair, our new neighbor.”
“Nice to meet you, ma’am. I heard Mose sold the place. I’ve been meaning to come over and say hello.”
“Forget the ma’am,” Charity told him. “It makes me feel too old. Charity is enough.”
He nodded, smiled. He was young, maybe nineteen or twenty, with thick, dark red hair and a few scattered freckles, sort of a young John Kennedy, an attractive boy with what appeared to be a pleasant disposition. She wondered if he could tell by looking at her what had been going on when he arrived. Then she noticed Call’s shirt was open and missing a button and felt her face heating up again.”
― Kat Martin, Midnight Sun

“This is hard country. Bad things happen up here. Unless you’ve been wearing blinders, by now you’re beginning to see that. Why don’t you accept my offer, sell this place, and go home where you belong?”
Home where you belong. They were fighting words to Charity, right along with be a good little girl. Her lips tightened. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? For me to sell out and go home. Then you could have your precious privacy back. You wouldn’t have to worry about someone making noise when they worked next door. You wouldn’t have to worry about saving some greenhorn from a bear. You wouldn’t have to think about--”
She gasped as he took a threatening step toward her, his eyes snapping as he backed her up against the trunk of the tree. “Yeah, I wouldn’t have to worry about what mischief you might get into next. And whenever I saw you, I wouldn’t have to think about what it might be like to kiss that sassy mouth of yours. I wouldn’t have to drive myself crazy wondering what it would feel like to reach under that silly panda sweatshirt and cup your breasts, to put my mouth there and find out how they taste.”
She made a little sound in her throat the instant before his mouth crushed down over hers. Hard lips, fierce and hot as a brand, molded with hers, then began to soften. He started to taste her, to sample instead of demand. Lean, tanned hands framed her face, titled her head back so he could deepen the kiss and she felt the rough shadow of beard along his jaw. Her mouth parted on a moan and his tongue slid inside. It felt slick and hot as it tangled with hers, and ragged need tore through her.
Oh, dear God! Heat overwhelmed her and she started to tremble. Her hands came up to his shoulders, clung for a moment, then slid up around his neck. She heard Call groan.
He pressed himself more solidly against her, forcing her into the bark of the tree. She could feel his arousal, a big, hard ridge straining beneath the fly of his jeans. His hands found her bottom and he lifted her a little, fit his heavy erection into the soft vee between her legs.
An ache started there. She inhaled his scent, like piney woods and smoke, and he tasted all male. He kissed the way a woman dreamed a man should kiss, drinking her in, making her legs turn to butter. As if he would rather have the taste of her mouth than his next breath of air.
She tilted her head back and he kissed the side of her neck, trailed hot, wet kisses to the base of her throat, then took her mouth again. Their tongues fenced, mated in perfect rhythm. Their mouths seemed designed to fit exactly together. The kiss went on and on, till her brain felt mushy and she could barely think.
Tell him to stop, a voice inside her said, but all she could think was that Jeremy had never kissed her like this. He had never made her feel like this--not once in the two years they had been together. No one had ever made her feel like this.
And she didn’t want the moment to end.”
― Kat Martin, Midnight Sun

“Will he be back?”
“Buck or the bear?”
Her lips quirked. “The bear.”
“Not today. Hopefully, never.”
“Was it a grizzly?”
“Black bear.”
“It must have been a grizzly. It wasn’t black--it was brown.”
He shook his head as if he couldn’t believe her. “Black bears come in lots of different colors. Grizzlies are a whole different species. You have to learn which is which and you have to react to each of them differently.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“I mean you have to be aggressive with black bears. With grizzlies, the best thing to do is lie down, pull yourself into a protective ball, and play dead. The bear might maul you a little, but at least you won’t be killed…not usually, at any rate.”
She sagged back against the trunk of the pine tree, her face pale again. “That’s comforting.”
Call sighed in exasperation. “Dammit, Charity, don’t you know anything about living out here?”
“Obviously not as much as I should.”
“I can’t imagine what a woman like you is doing up here by herself in the first place. You did come on your own? No husband, no boyfriend, right?”
She straightened, beginning to get annoyed. “I don’t need a husband to do something I’ve always wanted to do. Maybe I should have learned more about the animals around here and less about the history of the area, but that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t have come.”
“This is hard country. Bad things happen up here. Unless you’ve been wearing blinders, by now you’re beginning to see that. Why don’t you accept my offer, sell this place, and go home where you belong?”
Home where you belong. They were fighting words to Charity, right along with be a good little girl. Her lips tightened. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? For me to sell out and go home. Then you could have your precious privacy back. You wouldn’t have to worry about someone making noise when they worked next door. You wouldn’t have to worry about saving some greenhorn from a bear. You wouldn’t have to think about--”
She gasped as he took a threatening step toward her, his eyes snapping as he backed her up against the trunk of the tree. “Yeah, I wouldn’t have to worry about what mischief you might get into next. And whenever I saw you, I wouldn’t have to think about what it might be like to kiss that sassy mouth of yours. I wouldn’t have to drive myself crazy wondering what it would feel like to reach under that silly panda sweatshirt and cup your breasts, to put my mouth there and find out how they taste.”
― Kat Martin, Midnight Sun

“Hello, Smoke.” She knelt and hugged his neck, ruffled his thick, silver-black fur. “What are you doing way out here, boy?”
“I might ask you the same question.” In faded jeans and a denim shirt, Call stalked out of the woods behind his big dog. God, he looked so good. Tall and a little forbidding, unbelievably handsome though he badly needed a shave. She hadn’t realized how much she had missed him. Well, maybe she had, but until now she’d been able to pretend it wasn’t all that much.
He started walking toward her and for the first time she noticed the hard set of his jaw, the little muscle bunching in his cheek. “I’ve been looking all over. Where the hell have you been?”
She took a step back, intimidated a little by the dark glint in his eyes and the anger in his face. “I-I was taking some pictures. It’s such a lovely day, so much warmer than it has been, and I-I--”
“Do you know how worried Maude’s been?” He dumped his daypack onto the ground and continued walking toward her. “She was afraid something terrible had happened. She thought you might be lost up here, or that you might be hurt. Maybe you were lying out here in pain, unable to get help.” He reached out, caught the tops of her arms, and hauled her toward him. “She was frantic. How could you be so thoughtless?”
Charity blinked at him. “I told her I was going for a walk. I might have stayed a little longer than I intended but I didn’t think she’d be upset.”
“Well, she was.” He held her immobile, their bodies nearly touching. “She was worried sick.”
There was something in his expression. Fear, she realized. Concern for her. “Maude was worried?” she said softly. “Or you were?”
Those fierce blue eyes bored into her. His arm slid down, wrapped around her waist, and he hauled her the last few inches between them, pressing his body full-length against hers. “I was,” he said, and then he kissed her.”
― Kat Martin, Midnight Sun

“Another week passed and Charity saw no sign of Call. It bothered her more than it should have. She knew what he wanted from her--the only thing he wanted. As she had told him, a one-night stand just wasn’t her style. And even if it were, she didn’t think a single night with a man like Call would be nearly enough.
Still, she couldn’t get him out of her head no matter how hard she tried. It irritated her, made her grumpy and out of sorts. God, she wished she had never met him.
Of course, if she hadn’t, she probably would have been eaten by a bear.”
― Kat Martin, Midnight Sun

“Your breakfast is ready,” Toby said to Call, leaning through the open office door. “I made waffles--your favorite. And I’ve got some of that Saskatoon syrup you like.”
“Someday, you’ll make someone a great wife, Toby,” Call grumbled, forcing himself to his feet though he wasn’t really hungry.
Toby just grinned. Call walked past him into the kitchen and sat down at the breakfast table. Toby was babying him again. For nearly a week he’d been foul-tempered and edgy, and he hadn’t been sleeping well. Apparently Toby had noticed the shadows under his eyes and his surly disposition.
Call raked a hand through his hair as the boy set a steaming plate of crisp golden waffles in front of him, then sat down in the chair across the table.
“So…what’s going on with our gorgeous next-door neighbor?”
Call nearly choked on the bite of bacon he’d just taken. “Nothing’s going on. She lives there. I live here. That’s all there is to it.” And Call was determined to keep it that way. To ensure that it did, he hadn’t seen Charity since last week, hadn’t even picked up the binoculars to see what she was up to. Since then, he had been able to block thoughts of her for, oh, maybe an hour or two at a time.
Christ, the woman drove him crazy and she wasn’t even near.
“Man, she is really something,” Toby went on between bites of waffle. “I wonder how old she is.”
Call glanced up, caught the interest in Toby’s eyes. “Too old for you, so forget it.”
“Hey--I like older women. And that one is definitely hot.”
Too damned hot, Call thought, trying not to remember what it felt like to kiss her.
“If you’re really not interested, maybe I could--”
“I told you to forget it,” Call snapped, then looked over just in time to see Toby grin.
“That’s what I thought.”
Call just grunted.”
― Kat Martin, Midnight Sun

“Your breakfast is ready,” Toby said to Call, leaning through the open office door. “I made waffles--your favorite. And I’ve got some of that Saskatoon syrup you like.”
“Someday, you’ll make someone a great wife, Toby,” Call grumbled, forcing himself to his feet though he wasn’t really hungry.
Toby just grinned.”
― Kat Martin, Midnight Sun

“She paused when her gaze lit on a wall of bookshelves filled with computer games. Above it hung a screen nearly four feet wide with a pair of control sticks mounted beneath it.
“All right,” she teased, “now I know what you really do all day.”
Some of the darkness faded from his features and the muscles across his shoulders relaxed. “Actually, I do spend part of my day playing games. Right now, I’m giving Inner Dimensions some feedback on a game called King Cobra.”
Her eyes lit up. “Can we play it?”
He shook his head. “No way. Not today. I promised to show you the country and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.” He opened the office door and waited for her to walk out.
Charity glanced wistfully over her shoulder at the gigantic game board. “Okay, but I’m not letting you off the hook. It isn’t like there’s all that much to do up here. One of these nights, we’ll have to play.”
Call’s expression changed and the blue of his eyes seemed to glow. “Yeah,” he said, “one of these nights we’ll definitely have to play.”
Charity’s stomach contracted. She didn’t think he was talking about computer games.”
― Kat Martin, Midnight Sun