Midnight (McKenna Chronicles Book 1) Read Online Free Page B

looks very stuffy and old . Hmm . . . based on his physical
appearance and intense eyes, I would guess Colin McKenna is many things; old
and stuffy are none of them.
    A
young girl managing the hostess desk, wearing a casual yet crisp white shirt
and navy pants, greets me. “Can I help you?”
    “Yes,
I’m meeting Colin McKenna. Do you know if he’s arrived?”
    Her
once pleasant features drop and her mouth opens and then closes before saying,
“Uh, yeah . . . yes, please follow me.” Eyeing me warily, she rounds from the
back of the desk, poorly trying to hide her scrutiny.
    There
are few patrons at this hour so it’s not hard to find him, sitting at a small
table in front of the room’s only fireplace. Thankfully, his head is tipped to
read something on his phone so he misses my inspection. He is, even more so
than in my memories, striking. More relaxed than I saw yesterday, he's wearing
a dark blue cable-knit sweater with a high collar. It hangs open exposing a
thick, muscled neck and the white crew-neck T-shirt hidden underneath the heavy
knit. His stature is impressive, with wide shoulders and thick, firm forearms
visible as the sleeves of his sweater are pushed toward his elbows.
    Looking
up, his eyes connect directly with mine, piercing intensity visible in their
depths. He stands in greeting, not looking at the hostess as she deposits
me at the table. “Is there anything you need, Senator McKenna?” she asks with a
hopeful draw to her tone.
    “No,
thank you.” His eyes remain trained on mine as he holds his hand out to me.
“Charlie.” It’s almost a whisper from his lips.
    Held
in his trance, I raise my hand to his and gasp when our fingers touch. The
electricity is so strong I pull my hand back quickly, as if it were burned. His
brow furrows momentarily and we stand silently together, unmoving for a short
moment. In time he steps to the chair next to his, pulling it out graciously
for me to sit.
    “Thank
you.” It’s the only thing I can manage without giving away how appalled I am at
my reaction to him and our physical contact.
    He
relaxes, sinking into his chair gracefully. “Thank you for changing your plans
and meeting with me, Charlie. I hope you slept well?”
    Okay,
normal conversation. I can do this. He is, after all, a man, just like everyone
else. I inhale deeply to steady my nerves before replying, “Yes. Surprisingly I
slept very well.”
    Our
waiter presents at that moment, “May I get you something to drink?” He looks to
me. The Senator already has coffee and an orange juice sitting in front of him.
    “Coffee,
please.” I smile broadly with gratitude. Coffee is usually the first thing I
have when I wake up, even before showering; I feel half-awake without it this
morning. My smile remains in place as the waiter leaves. I tip my head back to
Colin, whose own face has become impassive as he gazes at me. “Did you sleep
well?”
    He
considers my question thoughtfully, one side of his mouth rising. “Yes,
Charlie, I did.” I wish I knew what he is thinking. One minute he's completely
unreadable, the next his eyes are sparkling like the fire lapping next to him.
I glance to the flames, appreciating the heat on my bare legs.
    “Are
you cold?” There’s real concern in his tone, as if he would add kindling to
raise the languid lick of flame to an inferno if I said yes. He's very serious,
refined in his dialect and manners. I suddenly wonder if he ever has any fun,
if he ever laughs or is teased.
    “The
heat feels nice; my legs and toes are a little cold. I didn’t have my thermals
to keep me warm last night.” I try not to smile as I say it, keeping my face
smooth.  
    He
tips his head back and laughs. “Thermals?”
    Oh,
his laugh is deep and genuine, warming me from the inside, and I have no idea
why. It spurs me on. With a sober face, designed to maintain a certain amount
of dignity, I tip my head to him. “It’s very cold in Michigan, at nighttime
especially. Thermals