"Was he mean to you?" he demanded. He'd kick Brian's ass himself if the man had said anything bad to Mia.
She laughed. "Oh, no, he's just a teddy bear underneath all that gruff. He called me later to apologize and asked if I could help him out. He's real sweet."
There were many words that described Brian, and sweet wasn't one of them. All this time, he had no idea she'd been going into town regularly, let alone interacting with everyone.
"Well, you're a gem," Fran said. "Bea from the diner also wanted to speak with you--have you eaten there yet? Popular hangout. Wait a minute--she's supposed to be here today; let me text her and tell her to come over."
"No, I have to go!" Chloe suddenly burst out. They turned to look at her. Ethan noticed her skin had gone pale, and she was gazing around with an almost panicked look in her eye. "Can we go now, please? I made plans with my friends tonight, and it's getting late."
Ethan frowned. Something else was going on. What had spooked her?
"Sorry, Fran, next time. We've been here for hours," Mia said.
"Of course. Thanks again and I'll see you later."
They said their goodbyes and headed toward the truck. Chloe seemed to calm down the moment she was inside, and they drove back to the inn, listening to the Arctic Monkeys while Mia begged for a music intervention. Poor thing liked Adam Levine. It was just wrong.
He parked the truck and said goodbye to Chloe, who ran off with her phone clutched tight in her hand. "Have you met her friends yet?" he asked casually.
"Yes, but Chloe freaked, and Jonathan said just to keep an eye out for them. I have to be careful not to push. Figured I need to let her breathe."
"Smart. Just wondering. Do you know if she has a boyfriend?"
"I asked her once over lunch, and she said no. I believed her. Why?"
"Nothing. Just a gut instinct she's worried about something."
"Her father is coming up next weekend, so I'll talk to him about it."
"Good idea." They stopped in front of the inn. "Want to walk me to my bungalow?"
That got a laugh from her. He enjoyed the throaty, full-on sound pumped with joy. "Are you trying to end this date on an official note?"
"Maybe."
"You already walked me to my door," she pointed out.
"In a traditional world, yes. But you, Mia Thrush, don't have a traditional bone in your body. And I'd like to spend a bit more time with you."
His words seemed to take her off guard. She stepped back in retreat, searching his face for her own answers. He wondered if she'd back off and hide behind the wall of sarcasm and banter they'd constructed, but she surprised him by nodding. "Lead the way."
They walked in comfortable silence. Fat bumblebees jumped from flower to flower, buzzing in ecstasy from too much pollen. The sun beat strong on their shoulders, but the faint breeze took away some of the sting, stirring the trees so they whispered in the woods. Their feet followed the winding path in unison.
"What was it like growing up here?" she asked.
"Peaceful. My parents worked hard to build up the bed-and-breakfast, but we ended up losing my dad too early to a heart attack. After that, Mom became obsessed with making the inn a success and later added the horse rescue. My sisters and I bitched a lot that we didn't have it as easy as other kids. She expected us to get up early, do chores, help run the business. She was tough. But loving. And fair."
"She sounds pretty amazing."
He smiled, a warm rush of memories comforting him. "Yeah. She was. Of course, I had bigger plans for my life and didn't want to get stuck in a small town taking care of guests and horses. Neither did Ophelia."
Her brow quirked. "You're kidding? I would've figured Harper would be the one to get itchy feet. Ophelia seems so perfect for this life."
He shook his head. "Hell no. She was the wild child. Sneaking out at night to cause trouble. Wanted to go to Hollywood and sing--her voice is extraordinary. She ran away from home for a while, but when she came back, she'd changed. Settled down some. She never told me what happened, but by then I was off pursuing my own dreams. Harper was the one obsessed with horses and making the farm a success."
Mia gave a small sigh. "I always wanted a sibling. It was lonely growing up an only child. Maybe that's why I got so involved with my dad and his career. I was really close to my parents and never went through any of those rebellious periods where I wanted to leave. They always made me feel safe."
"Nothing wrong with that. Are they still living happily somewhere in retirement?"
"Not together. Not anymore." Her face clouded. The flare of pain in those golden eyes made an odd ache squeeze his heart. He didn't like seeing her unhappy. That familiar protectiveness roared up inside, pushing him to stop walking and turn toward her.
"Divorced?" She nodded. He imagined how hard it was watching parents split, but there was something more underneath the surface. "Bad?"
She hesitated. Peered into his face as if to test how much she trusted him when they had just become tentative friends. Then she took the leap. "They split up over a lie. My father was running for senate years ago. A nasty rumor spread about him cheating on my mother in a sex scandal. The papers blew up, and he was tried and convicted before he had a chance. My mother didn't believe him, so she left. He lost his prospective seat and his wife."
"But he didn't do it?"
She slowly shook her head. Ghosts danced over her features. "We found out the truth after the election, but the press buried it and no one cared. By then, it was too late. They'd hurt each other too much, and the trust was gone. My father was brokenhearted. Mom remarried, but my father withdrew to a small town, practices law, and still lives alone." She blew out a breath, and the grief turned to anger. "I'm still so mad. Mad at the lies spun to hurt and frame. Mad at my mother for not fighting for her marriage. Mad at my father for giving up on his life. I swore I'd achieve justice by helping people who deserve to win a political seat. People who are good and have the right intentions. That's why I'm helping Lake's daughter. I don't want something like this to ruin his chances."
"If you can get him elected, you can right some of the past."
She jerked, looking up at him with startled eyes. At that moment, she was so beautiful, his heart stuttered out of rhythm, then stampeded in a mad rush to make up for the pause. Blood squeezed in his veins. The sheer grit and determination staring back at him punched him hard in the gut. She was a fighter, but she fought for good, for justice, for her beliefs. There was nothing that turned him on more than a woman who took loyalty and protectiveness to such a level.
And, suddenly, Mia Thrush became a lot more than a sexy woman who amused him.
The air thickened between them, scented with earth and sunshine and sweetness. His thumb tipped her chin up. His gaze locked with hers, relishing the tiny hitch in her breath and her dilated pupils. Relishing that she was as confused and turned on as he was.
"I'm sorry, sweetheart. Because I know you would've fought to your last breath to save something or someone you loved."
Seconds passed. The silence drenched them and pulsed with possibility.
She blinked, confused. "Ethan?"
He'd taken what he wanted the last time. This time, he needed the words. "I need to kiss you, Mia. Right now, I feel like I'll fucking die if I don't kiss you."
She didn't hesitate. Standing on tiptoes, her hands reached up and grabbed his shoulders. "Yes," she breathed against his lips, "kiss me now."
He did. His mouth covered hers, and his tongue dove inside her mouth to feast. He groaned and savored the taste of sugar and spice, of chocolate and coconut, of raw demand and sweet surrender. She fisted her hands in his hair, holding him tight, arching against him while her tongue tangled and battled his in a war they both won. Nipping at her delectable, lush bottom lip, he cupped her ass and hauled her higher up against him. The hard ridge of his cock begged for release against his jeans as she wriggled her hips to get closer. He needed her naked, spread-
eagled on his bed. He needed her wet and aching and begging for him to fill her. He needed so much . . . more.
She rubbed her cheek against the smooth skin of his jaw and purred like a sexy kitten. "Feels so good," she murmured.
"Miss the beard?"
"Hell no." She nibbled at the corner of his mouth, then kissed him again, long and deep. "You were hiding a cleft chin. What guy does that?"
"One who wasn't ready for anything."
"And now?"
The challenge burned hot and bright between them. There wasn't a shy bone in her body, and he loved her sheer grit and honesty. This was someone who wouldn't run away from messiness. She'd just give it the stink eye and confront it head-on.
"And now I can't think of anything but dragging you into my cabin and doing some very dirty things to you."
"How dirty?"
"Filthy," he growled, his fingers digging into the lush curve of her ass. His knees almost weakened in need. "Depraved. Maybe highly illegal."
"Oh God, that's hot."
She hitched herself up higher, and they fell into another drugging, crazed kiss. He began stumbling backward, desperate to get inside, and then--
"Hello! Ethan? Are you here?"
Mia stiffened in his arms. The familiar voice hit his ears, and reality unfolded like a bad B-horror flick. Impossible. She wouldn't come to his private home, would she?
Yes, she would.
Ethel and Priscilla stood a few feet behind, staring at them with a mixture of delight and pride. "Oh my! Here you both are, this is wonderful. And from that kiss, I see the date went well?"
Priscilla giggled. "Personally, I think Mia waited way too long to test ride this one."
Mia practically fell out of his arms and clawed at her eyes. Probably trying to get that nasty image out of her head, like he was. Why was this happening to him? Had he done something to deserve this type of karma? Talk about wrecking a perfect moment.
He cleared his throat and tried to speak normally. "What do you ladies need today?"
"Sorry to interrupt, but we have wonderful news!" Ethel screeched. "Remember that Mama Mia play we needed a driver for?"
Warning tingles shot down his spine. A black cloud of dread battled away the sun. Shit, shit, shit, shit . . .
"Sure."
Ethel beamed. "We got a party bus, so there's no need to worry."
"With a stripper pole," Priscilla added.
"But that's not the best part," Ethel said.
He glanced over at Mia and knew. Knew the next few words were going to be very, very bad.
"We got both of you tickets to see the play with us!" Ethel announced. "We'll all be on the party bus together, have dinner, and see the play."
"Now this can be your official second date!" Priscilla screeched in delight.
Mia's mouth fell open. Ethan bit back a scathing curse word. The two women stared at them, waiting for a joyous reaction, and suddenly, the situation struck him full force, and he laughed.
He laughed hard and deep and loud, and then Mia was laughing with him and so were the older women, and he realized he was truly screwed.
Just not in the way he'd imagined a few moments ago.
Chapter Fourteen
Mia approached the barn, picking her way around the piles of mud and hay with a practiced eye. The scent of horse and dung assaulted her nostrils, but she was getting used to it. Her occasional visits kept Ethan on his toes and allowed her to still keep an eye on Chloe. They'd bonded a bit after the cupcake festival, but the girl was still stuck 24-7 to her phone, and conversation still lagged. With Jonathan coming to see her this weekend, Mia figured she'd bring a decent bribe to get her talking a bit more.
Ophelia's cookies may do it.
The teen had her back turned toward her. Her purple hair was snagged in a ponytail and damp with sweat. Dirt smeared her black tank. She rubbed some sort of brush over a pretty gray horse, talking in a warm, open tone Mia didn't even know the girl was capable of. The horse seemed to sense her presence first and gave a low whinny.
"Hi."
Chloe turned, a smile on her face as she met her gaze. "Hi, Mia. What's up?"
Mia raised her hand, holding out the still warm chocolate-chip cookie wrapped in a napkin. "I brought you a snack. The cookies are usually gone by the time you get home, so I snagged one for you."
"Thanks! Can you put it on the table for me while I finish up?"
"Sure." Mia set it down, then watched the girl continue her brushing, moving her hand around in slow, circular motions. "How are things going here?"
"Pretty good. Flower just got a good workout, so I'm brushing her down. Then I have to check on Big Red. His leg got screwed up, so he can't do the trails for a while, and he gets cranky when he's bored."
Mia blinked. "What do you do, then, with him to keep him occupied? Show him your Instagram feed?"
Chloe laughed. Was it her imagination, or was the girl finally beginning to soften? Something about her work with the horses revealed her nurturing, gentle heart. Her appearance had also changed. No more skintight clothes or heavy makeup. Oh, the piercings and black lipstick still showed up, but Mia could actually see her real face, which glowed a golden brown from the sun. She was even more beautiful and looked like a female version of her father.
"No, of course not," Chloe said. "I talk to him, pet him, brush him. He needs to feel important, or he gets depressed."
Mia raised a brow, walking closer to the stall. "I guess I never realized how sensitive horses can be. I figured they just ate, slept, and trotted around a bit, not caring too much about who takes care of them."
Chloe shook her head. "Ethan taught me how horses really bond with their caretakers or owners. If they're ignored for too long, they become lackluster and lose interest in things. And Harper told me a horse's heart is a gift. When they give you their trust, you need to take the relationship seriously."
Wow. That was the deepest dialogue she'd had with the teen since they arrived. "Did you have animals growing up?" Mia asked curiously.
"I had a dog named Lucky when I was little." Her face lit up with the memory. "We did everything together. She was a spotted brown mutt Dad rescued from the pound. I remember my mom used to tell me Lucky would wait for me to get home from school, guarding the door for hours, refusing to budge."
"How beautiful to have someone love you so much," Mia said softly.
"Yeah. She died a few years before my mom. I was heartbroken. Didn't come out of my room for a long time."
"I'm sorry, Chloe."
The girl shrugged. "Dad kept telling me he'd get me another dog, but I didn't want one. Didn't think anyone could replace Lucky, and then it became easier not getting attached again, especially after Mom passed."
The raw truth punched through Mia's gut. Loss was such an awful thing to deal with. Chloe was still fighting her way through to the other side. "Makes sense to me. Your heart can only take so much pain before you feel a need to protect yourself."
Their gazes locked. Understanding passed between them, an acknowledgment of something bigger, and Chloe nodded. "Yeah. Funny, though, being around the horses reminds me how happy Lucky made me. It feels . . . good."
Mia smiled. "Then maybe this isn't as crappy a summer as you thought it'd be."
The girl laughed then, and Mia wondered why the sound filled up all the spaces inside of her, making her happy as well. "Maybe you're right."
Flower butted her head against Chloe's arm, as if she wanted in on the lovefest. Chloe put down the brush and rubbed her ears, the connection between them pulsing live and true and real. Mia had forgotten how wonderful it was to be important to another--the give and take of touch and dialogue and affection, the beauty of truly being seen. It had been way too long since her defenses came down and she'd given herself the real opportunity to bond with someone who'd actually give a damn.
Maybe that someone was Ethan.
"Mia?"
"Yeah?"
"Wanna
split the cookie with me?"
The gesture was small but symbolic. Mia didn't hesitate.
"Sounds like a plan." The smile they shared was natural and true, the connection between them fragile but finally beginning to blossom. Moving on instinct, she closed the distance and gave the girl a brief hug, hoping Chloe wouldn't push her away.
She didn't. After a brief pause, she hugged her back firmly. Mia swallowed past the lump in her throat, enjoying the rare contact. When they broke apart, something had changed between them.
"I'll get the cookie and some water," Mia said. "Don't forget to wash your hands."
"I won't."
"And you probably need to use more sunscreen; your skin is too fair. I got this organic oil for bugs and bought you a bottle in case you get bit. The outdoors can be treacherous."
This time, Chloe didn't roll her eyes. She just smiled and, with a pat to Flower's butt, exited the stall. They ate the cookie, chattering some more, and Mia hoped it was the beginning of something good.
The next day, Mia came down the stairs to grab some of Ophelia's cucumber-mint water, and stopped. The most beautiful voice echoed through the rooms, richly textured and hauntingly emotional. She paused, following the sound, and found Ophelia in the dining room where she served, folding napkins with economical grace, looking like she was lost in thought.
Ophelia jumped a bit when she caught sight of her. "Oh, Mia. I'm sorry, I didn't see you."
"No, my fault, I heard singing. Your voice is extraordinary."
A faint blush rose to the woman's cheeks. "Thank you. I forget I'm doing it sometimes."
Mia ventured a few steps farther in, sensing an odd sadness radiating from her. "It must get hard, surrounded by people all the time. No real privacy."
"I get more time alone in the winter, but I actually enjoy the guests. I love hearing their stories. It's exciting to know where they've been or what they plan to do. A few months ago, I met a man who'd climbed Everest at sixty years old and just met the love of his life. He was getting married for the first time. This past Valentine's Day, I had a lovely couple who stayed here for the weekend. She'd been told she would never conceive, and when she returned home from her vacation here, she found out she was pregnant." Her eyes misted with dreaminess. "She called me to tell me the news. Even though I only get a glimpse, I feel like I've been invited into their lives for a specific amount of time, and it's a gift."
The Start of Something Good Page 14
