The Way to a Man's Heart

  “I was afraid Chad and Danny were going to murder him simply because he happened to catch it.”

  “We wouldn’t have done that,” Chad said, with more than a hint of indignation. “This is touch football, remember?”

  Danny scrunched up his face. “I might have tackled him, but I knew Meghan would kill me dead if I did.”

  Meghan looped her arm around Danny’s neck in a headlock and rubbed her knuckles over the top of his head. “You’re darn tootin’ I would have.”

  With his arms squirming, her brother escaped and angrily glared at his older sister. “I hate it when you do that!”

  Laughing, they all entered the house.

  An hour later, Grey followed Meghan back to her apartment and parked outside her building.

  “Do you want to come up for coffee?” she asked. Looking at Grey now, she found it difficult to remember that he’d been playing football with her brothers only a short time earlier. His eyes were serious, his expression sober. He seemed reserved and quiet after an afternoon filled with noise and fun.

  “I’d love to come up for coffee,” he answered automatically, and smiled at her softly, “but regrettably, I can’t. There’s enough paperwork stacked on my desk to keep me up most of the night.” He reached out and caressed the side of her face with his finger. “I enjoyed today more than I can tell you, Meghan. You have a wonderful family.”

  “I think so.” She was close to her parents and all her brothers, although she’d wanted to throttle the boys when she saw that they’d managed to drag Grey into a football game. What had surprised her most was Grey’s willingness to partake in her brothers’ folly.

  He continued to gently stroke the side of her face. Meghan knew he planned to kiss her, and she met him halfway, automatically slipping her arms around his neck. He lowered his lips to caress hers in a long, tender, undemanding kiss. Meghan felt certain that he meant to kiss her once and then leave, but instead he tightened his arms around her waist, bringing her closer to him. The kiss deepened and she was treated to a series of slow, compelling kisses that made her weak with longing. Something special had sprung into existence between them from the first moment they’d met—something delicate and so tangible that Meghan could feel it all the way to the marrow of her bones.

  She moaned at the erotic sensations that circled her heart and her head. Grey responded immediately to her small sigh of pleasure by prolonging the kiss. He parted her lips, then teased and tormented her with his tongue until Meghan was dazed almost senseless.

  “Oh Meghan,” he whispered into her hair as though in a state of shock himself. “I can’t believe the things you do to me.”

  “Me?” she asked, her laugh soft and mildly hysterical. Surely he must know that whatever physical electricity existed between them was mutual.

  Grey moved away from her and rested his head against the wall, taking in several giant gulps of air. “One kiss. I told myself I was only going to kiss you once. You’re quickly becoming addictive, Meghan O’Day.”

  Meghan’s breathing was ragged as well. “I’m sorry you can’t come in for coffee, but I understand,” she told him when it was possible to do so and sound as if she had her wits about her. “I enjoyed today, too. Very much.”

  His hand reached for hers. “There’s a cocktail party I have to attend next Saturday night. It’ll be dry and boring and filled with people who will remind you of Fulton Essary.” He paused and grinned wryly before adding, “They’ll remind you a lot of me, too. Will you go with me?”

  Meghan’s heart leaped to her throat. Grey had boldly walked into her world and was issuing an invitation for her to explore his. Doubts buzzed around her head like pesky mosquitos at a Fourth of July picnic. “Are you sure you want me there?”

  “I’ve never been more confident of anything in my life. You’ll do just fine.”

  Meghan wished she shared his faith in her. “Before you go, I want to tell you about a decision I recently made,” she said, smiling up at him. This small piece of news was something she’d been saving all day to tell him. “I’ve decided to visit Friends this week”

  His gaze widened briefly. “ ‘Visit’?”

  “You told me one of the reasons you invited me to hear Dr. Essary was to expose me to the richness of education that was available at the university. I’ve concluded that you’re right. My being older than most first-year students shouldn’t matter. There’s no time like the present to go back to school. I’m so excited, Grey. I feel like a little kid again, and I have you to thank for giving me the courage to do something I should have done long ago.”

  The warmth of his smile caused her heart to leap.

  “Classes don’t start until after Christmas, and I’m only going to sign up for two the first time around and see how I do. That way, I can keep working for a while, as well.” She felt a spontaneous smile light up her face as the enthusiasm surged through her. “I’m really trying to be sensible about all this.”

  “I think that’s wise.”

  “When I first leafed through the catalog, I wanted to register for every literature class offered. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that I’ve got to ease my way back into the habit of going to school. After all, it’s been several years since I graduated.”

  “Meghan?”

  He stopped her, and when she raised her gaze to his, she noted his brow had puckered into a frown. “Did you decide to take any of the classes I’ll be teaching?”

  She nodded eagerly. “The one on the American novel. But when I saw that we’d be reading Moby-Dick, I had second and third thoughts.”

  “You don’t like Melville?”

  Meghan nearly laughed aloud at the look of dismay that briefly sparked in his clear blue eyes. “I read the book in high school and found it insufferable. All those allegories! And from what I see, they made such little sense.”

  Grey’s frown darkened.

  “He was a great writer, though,” she said, hoping to appease Grey before she slipped into a black hole and couldn’t find her way out. When it came to literature, Meghan often found her views varied greatly from his. For the past two days, they’d been getting along so well that she’d forgotten how vehemently Grey defended the literary greats.

  “Were you aware that Moby-Dick is said to be the quintessential American novel?”

  “I imagine Margaret Mitchell was upset when she heard that,” Meghan returned jokingly. “Mark Twain, on the other hand, probably took the news in his stride.”

  “You can’t compare those two to Melville.”

  What had started out in jest was quickly turning into something more serious. “Grey, honestly, Melville was tedious and boring to the extreme. Maybe he would have appeared less so if he’d made even a passing effort to be less obtuse.”

  He looked away from her and expelled his breath. “I can’t believe you actually said that.”

  “I can’t, either,” she confessed. Her quicksilver tongue wasn’t helping matters any. She didn’t want to argue with Grey. She wanted him to be as excited as she was about her attending Friends. “I didn’t mean to start a fight with you, Grey. I just wanted to thank you for encouraging me.”

  He nodded. Although Meghan assumed their disagreement had been a minor one quickly forgotten, Grey was silent on the short walk upstairs to her apartment. Brooding and thoughtful, as well, she noted.

  “Thank you for bringing me home,” she said.

  “Meghan, listen.” He paused and raked his fingers through his hair, looking uneasy. “I’d prefer it if you didn’t sign up for any of my classes. It would be the best thing all the way around, don’t you think?”

  Those words felt like a bucket of cold water unexpectedly dumped over her head. She couldn’t really blame Grey. Already she’d proved how opinionated and headstrong she was. He was looking for a way to avoid problems, and she couldn’t blame him. If she was his student, she would be nothing but a nuisance. Her pride felt more than a little dented,
but she could do nothing except bow to his wishes.

  “Of course. If that’s what you want,” she agreed stiffly.

  “It is.”

  She cast her gaze downward, feeling wretched and sorry now that she’d even told him her plans.

  “Good night,” he said, leaning forward enough to brush his mouth over her cheek.

  “Good night,” she replied, doing her best to force some enthusiasm into her voice.

  He waited until she was inside the apartment and the living area was lighted before he left her. “I’ll call you later in the week,” he promised.

  She nodded, forcing a smile. The minute she closed the door after him, the smile vanished. Dropping her purse on the recliner, she walked directly into the kitchen and braced her hands against the countertop and stared sightlessly at her microwave. The lump in her throat felt huge.

  Grey was well within his rights to ask her not to register for any of his classes, but she couldn’t help taking it personally. She felt hurt and insulted.

  An hour later, Meghan didn’t feel much better. She sat in front of the television, wearing her yellow robe from Texas and watching a murder-mystery rerun. The phone rang, and, heaving a sigh, she reached for it.

  “Yo,” she answered, certain it was one of her brothers.

  “Yo?” Grey returned, chuckling.

  Meghan uncurled her bare feet from beneath her and straightened. “Grey?”

  “Hello. I took a break a minute ago to make myself a cup of coffee and I got to thinking about something. When I asked you not to register for any of my classes, there was a very good reason.”

  Meghan already knew what that was, but she didn’t volunteer the information.

  “The thing is, Meghan, I want to continue being with you as much as I can. If you’re taking my American-novel class, it would be unethical for me to date you.”

  “Oh Grey,” she whispered, closing her eyes as a current of warm sensations washed over her. “I’m so glad you called. I was really feeling awful about it.”

  “Why didn’t you say something?” he chided gently.

  She brushed her bangs from her forehead and held her palm there. “I couldn’t. I thought you objected because I can be so dogmatic and bullheaded when it comes to literature.”

  “I hadn’t noticed,” he teased.

  “Oh stop.” But there was no censure in her voice. She felt as if a heavy weight had been lifted from her heart.

  “You agree with me about not registering for my classes, don’t you?”

  “Of course. I should have realized why myself.” She hadn’t, and that only proved how insecure she felt about her relationship with him.

  “Yes, you should have. I’m glad I phoned. I don’t want any more discord between us. I guess for some people, politics is a touchy subject—for us it’s literature.”

  Meghan chuckled. “You’re right about that.”

  ***

  Entering the administration office at Friends University was like walking into a living nightmare. Bodies crammed each available space, and lines shot out in every direction imaginable. The noise was horrendous.

  Once Meghan had managed to get inside the door, she heaved in a deep breath and started asking questions of the first person she could.

  “Pardon me, can I register for classes in this line?” she asked a gum-chewing brunette.

  “Not here, honey, this one’s for those of us needing financial assistance. Try over there,” the girl told her, pointing across the room.

  Meghan groaned inwardly and was forced to traipse through a human obstacle course, stepping around bodies that took up nearly every inch of space, until she reached the far side of the building.

  She found a line and stood there, praying she was in the right place.

  “Hi,” a deep male voice greeted from behind her. “You work at Rose’s Diner, don’t you?”

  Meghan turned to face a tall, rakishly good-looking man who looked vaguely familiar. “Yes. Do I know you?”

  “There’s no reason you should. I eat at Rose’s every now and again. I don’t know if you’ve waited on me or not, but I remember you from there. My name is Eric Vogel.”

  “Hello, Eric. I’m Meghan O’Day,” she replied above the noise, and they exchanged handshakes. “This place is a madhouse, isn’t it?”

  “It’s like this every quarter.”

  “Don’t tell me that, please.”

  “You’re a senior?”

  “I wish,” she said. “I haven’t been to school in years, and I’m beginning to feel like an alien—in with all these eighteen- and twenty-year-olds.”

  “How old are you?”

  “Twenty-four.”

  “Hey, me, too.”

  “I guess that qualifies us for a senior-citizen discount,” Meghan teased. “I sincerely hope I’m in the right line for registration.”

  “You are,” Eric said confidently, easing the pack off his back and setting it on the floor.

  He apparently knew far more than Meghan did, and she was grateful he’d struck up a conversation with her.

  “What classes are you planning to take?”

  Awkwardly, Meghan opened the catalog and showed him the two literature classes she’d chosen earlier, after much internal debate. Eric instantly started questioning her about her choices, and it soon became apparent that they shared a love for the classics.

  “You’ll like Dr. Murphy’s class,” Eric assured her. “It’s a whirlwind tour through six hundred years of British rhyme.”

  “A poetry-in-motion sort of class, then.”

  “Right,” Eric said with a low chuckle.

  The urge to ask her newfound friend if he’d ever taken anything from Grey was almost overwhelming, but Meghan resisted.

  “Once we’re done here, do you want to go over to The Hub and have a cup of coffee?” Eric suggested. “I’m meeting my fiancée there, and a couple of other friends. Why don’t you join us?”

  “I’ll be glad to,” Meghan said eagerly. The line was moving at a snail’s pace, and by the time they’d finished, it could well be close to noon. The student center seemed as good a place as any to have lunch.

  Eric must have been thinking the same thing. “We might as well plan on having lunch together, from the way things are going here.”

  “It certainly looks that way,” Meghan agreed.

  Eric continued to leaf through the catalog. “By the way, if you’re interested in joining a reading group, there’s one that meets Friday afternoons at two. We get together at The Hub, although I’ve got to confess we don’t do as much reading as we’d like. Mostly we drink coffee and seek solutions to world problems. It’s a literary group with bipartisan overtones, if you know what I mean. We seldom agree on anything, but love the challenge of a good argument.”

  The group sounded like something Meghan had been looking for for years. “I’d love to come,” she told him, having trouble keeping the excitement out of her voice.

  Meghan had made her first college friend, and it felt good.

  ***

  Grey’s office lacked welcome when he let himself inside on Friday afternoon. He needed to phone Meghan but had put it off all week. He sat in his high-back leather chair and held a hand over his face as if the gesture would wipe out the image that kept popping into his mind.

  He’d known Meghan was registering for classes Wednesday morning and had half expected her to stop off and see him afterward. When he’d talked to her the day before, he’d casually issued the invitation for her to come to his office, but he had a class at one and she had to be at Rose’s before three, so the timing was iffy.

  It had been pure chance that had taken Grey to The Hub early Wednesday afternoon. The faculty dining room was situated on the second floor, and he was joining Dr. Riverside when he happened to catch sight of an auburn-haired woman who instantly reminded him of Meghan.

  It had been Meghan, and a surge of adrenaline shot through him to have bumped into her so u
nexpectedly this way. It took a second longer for Grey to notice the two men and another woman who were sitting at the table with her. The four were talking and laughing, obviously enjoying getting to know one another. One of the men, clearly attracted to her and doing his best to make himself noticed, had his arm draped along the back of her chair. He looked like a decent sort—clean-cut, preppy. Although it was difficult to tell from this distance, Grey thought he might have had the fellow in one of his classes a couple years before.

  The other man’s arm was looped over Meghan’s chair and was in no way territorial, but the emotions that shot through Grey certainly were. He felt downright jealous, and the fact stunned him. He had no right to feel so strongly about Meghan. Knowing he could experience such a powerful emotion toward her after so short an acquaintance shook him to the core. He’d left as soon as he could make his excuses to Dr. Riverside and returned to his office, badly shaken by the incident.

  Two days had passed, and Grey had yet to erase the image of Meghan from his mind. She hadn’t stopped off at his office that afternoon, which had been just as well; she belonged with her friends. As soon as her classes started up, after the first of the year, she would come into contact with others like the ones she’d met Wednesday. With her vivacious, warm personality, she would soon have scores of new friends. These people would be her own age and would share the same interests. They would open up a whole world to her—one in which Grey regretfully acknowledged that he wouldn’t belong. There was only one thing left for him to do.

  Only it wasn’t easy.

  Thursday, after giving the matter some heavy-duty thought, Grey had felt downright noble deciding to step aside for a man who would be far better suited to someone like Meghan O’Day. There would soon be several vying for her attention, and Grey couldn’t blame them. It would be all too easy for him to fall in love with her himself.

  Meghan was sunshine and bright colors. Unfortunately, Grey’s world was colored in black and white. He was staid; she was effervescent—the embodiment of warmth and femininity. And he was nothing more than an ivory-tower professor, secure in his own world and unwilling to venture far into another.