by Jill Shalvis
Damn it, she had wanted to. “If you know you’re impossible, maybe you should do something about it.”
“Nah, it’s part of my charm.” He handed over her pen. “I was only eighteen, the same age when she divorced me for not kissing her ass enough.”
“I didn’t ask that, either.”
“You were wondering.”
She looked at him and he laughed softly, a sound she was beginning to react to like Pavlov’s dog.
Drool, drool.
“What about you? Ever been married?” he asked.
Now she laughed. “Do I look like the marrying type?”
His gaze ran over her face, her body, heating every single inch. “You look like the type to do whatever she pleases.”
“Yeah, well, it’s never pleased me to be married.” Because that seemed incredibly revealing, she distanced herself. “I’ve got to go check on the crazy kid.”
“Crazy?”
“Trust me.” She stood up. “Crazy.” She soaked in his extremely pleasing-on-the-eyes face. “See you?”
“See me, or do me?”
She laughed.
He didn’t.
And she sighed. “Right.” He didn’t want just sex, he liked more, and she didn’t. “Bye.” Feeling a little like Alice down the rabbit hole, she grabbed the last bag of groceries and went into the house.
Hope was heading for the stairs.
“We have to talk,” Mia said.
Hope slowly turned back, her eyes filled with misery.
Ah, hell. She was waiting to be rejected, sent away, and much of Mia’s anger melted away in spite of herself.
The girl had been made to feel unimportant for most of her life, and Mia knew that feeling all too well. Damn if she’d add to it.
So how to do this? Right up front, she decided. She might be a bitch in her world, but she wouldn’t be one in Hope’s. “Don’t look at me like that. It’s just talk.”
“No good ever came out of talking,” Hope said. “Trust me, I know. My mom does that. ‘We have to talk, Hope.’” She said this in a perfect imitation of Sugar. “‘About your attitude toward the men I date. About your grades. About your stealing.’” The kid put her hands on her hips. “Well, the men she dates are assholes, the teachers all hate me because she slept with the principal, and then his wife found out and he quit. Some jerk took his place and he’s awful, but that’s not my fault. And I don’t steal!”
Mia stared at the kid’s stiff spine, her shoulders thin and narrow and seemingly weighted with the world. Mia’s early fury was still firmly in place, but now it was mixed with something that felt like sorrow and guilt and regret, and, damn it, she hated when something got in the way of her righteous anger. “Hope—”
“Look, I’m sorry I screwed up your day, okay? I know I’m going home. I’ll go pack.”
And with that, she took her heavy-soled boots up the stairs, probably leaving scuff marks with each step.
“Hope, wait.”
Hope stopped but didn’t turn around.
Fine. She’d talk to the girl’s back. “I know what it’s like to grow up feeling as if you don’t matter. As if nothing you do or say makes any difference in this world. I know what it’s like to have hopes and dreams and be afraid you won’t get a chance to live them. I know, Hope.”
Slowly the girl turned around.
“I’m sorry you were dealt those cards, that you had to run far and fast to get what you think you want. I, more than anyone else, understand. But you have to understand me in return. I don’t know anything about raising a teenager, about being a role model, about making your world right for you. Nothing.” She drew a deep breath. “But I’m willing to see this through until the end of the week if you are.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re so sweet and kind?”
Hope smiled. Smiled.
Mia covered up the unexpected emotion eased by that and pointed a finger in Hope’s face. “But no more joyriding in my car.”
Hope shook her head.
“No more messing with my work.”
Another shake of her head.
“No more cracks about me being old.”
Hope smiled.
“All right then,” Mia said.
“All right then,” Hope repeated in the same exact tone, though Mia would have sworn there was a light of excitement and hope in her eyes that hadn’t been there before as she turned and went up the stairs.
Watching her, Mia let out a slow breath, then sat on the bottom step, wondering what the hell she’d just gotten herself into.
Kevin watched Mia vanish into her house and shook his head. “Way to keep your distance there, stud,” he said and, with a disgusted shake of his head, headed toward the basketball court.
Mike was already there because of course he didn’t flake out on the good stuff.
Mike didn’t look at Kevin, so Kevin merely walked onto the court and got in Mike’s way as he came down for a warm-up layup.
And checked him.
Mike bounced back and glared at him.
“Oh, would you like to know my problem?” Kevin asked politely, forcing him to read his lips even though he knew Mike didn’t like to.
Mike shook his head.
“Too bad. They would have hired you today, you dumb-ass.”
Oh, so now I’m a dumb-ass?
“Hey, if the shoe fits.”
Mike snatched the ball from Kevin and drove it down the court, executing a perfect layup. He could have played basketball for college, and possibly even the pros, but not a single college would recruit him because of his handicap.
Mike landed and turned around, no triumph in his face, nothing but desolation.
All his life he’d been whispered about and pointed at. The times were changing, and these days a deaf man had just about the same rights and expectations as anyone else, but Mike still carried the chip on his shoulder.
It was getting damned heavy.
Kevin understood it. He had been trying to hack away at it for years, but he understood it. He waited until Mike’s gaze met his. Please interview. You’re a shoo-in, I swear it.
Mike just dribbled, thinking God knows what. Then he tossed Kevin the ball, hard enough to sting. I’ll be there, he signed.
When?
Tomorrow. Now, are you going to play or nag?
Kevin looked at him for a long moment, searching his brother’s gaze, finding nothing but bare honesty. Fear, too, but Mike wouldn’t want him to comment on that, so he nodded. First to ten, loser cooks dinner.
Mike grinned. Get ready to cook, Mrs. McKnight. And he came after the ball.
Thirty minutes later they were both a sweaty, exhausted mess, slumped on one of the benches on the side of the court slurping from their water bottles.
A woman pulled onto the street in a red Honda. She got out and came along on the sidewalk, and Mike stopped drinking to watch. She wore a jean skirt cut a few inches above the knees and a red tank layered over a white one. Normal summer gear, only there was nothing normal about the tall, athletically toned brunette—she was beautiful enough to grace the cover of any magazine.
Mike glanced at Kevin and waggled his eyebrows.
Kevin rolled his eyes. Don’t even think about it, he signed. You’re cooking dinner for me tonight.
I’m going to be cooking all right…
Mike—But Mike wasn’t looking. Instead he’d risen off the bench and, hiding his wince from his various aches and bruises, plastered his I’m-God’s-gift smile in place.
Kevin kicked his foot to get his attention. She’s out of your league.
Yeah? Watch and learn, big guy. Watch and learn. He moved off the court and onto the sidewalk directly in front of the woman.
She stopped and smiled at him. “Hi. Haven’t seen you before. Are you new around here?”
Mike nodded his head.
“Well, welcome!” She held out her hand. “I’m Tess Reis. I don’t live on this street—m
y best friend, Mia Appleby, does—I’m just going to drop some things off at her house. Have you met her?”
Mike nodded and shook her hand, bringing his other up to cup over hers. Then he pointed to himself, and his ear, shaking his head.
“I’m sorry,” she said, shaking her head. “I don’t understand.”
Again Mike tapped his ear and shook his head.
“You’re…deaf?”
He smiled and nodded.
“Oh!” And as Kevin had witnessed a thousand times, maybe more, this melted her. Women, he thought in amazement. Always softened for the underdog, even if that underdog was really a damn wolf in sheep’s clothing.
But the two of them were seemingly managing to communicate despite the handicap, and Kevin just sighed. Bending, he gathered the waters and the ball, and stuffed them into his duffle bag.
On the sidewalk, Tess laughed out loud at something Mike did. Over her shoulder, Mike turned to Kevin and winked salaciously. I’m going to need a rain check on cooking, big brother.
Unbelievable, Kevin thought. Just unbelievable.
Chapter Eleven
A few days later Kevin was in his kitchen, seated at his table with a beer and stacks of paperwork. A stack for the taxes he hadn’t yet gotten together, a stack for ongoing fund-raising tactics for the teen center, a stack for filling out forms for grants and funding from the state. And yet another of the pop quiz he’d given in class today to see where everyone was at.
Yeah, he knew how to party.
It was late, past midnight, and he was hip deep in grading, staring down at Cole’s quiz, not surprised to find the kid had answered every question correctly, even the ones Kevin hadn’t expected the kids to answer at all, when there came a knock at his kitchen door. He lifted his head, figuring it was his idiot brother coming in from a date with Tess, who he’d seen three nights running now.
But Mike had a key…The night was dark, and Kevin couldn’t see out the glass pane in the door. Tossing his pencil down, he got up and flicked on the porch light.
Mia Appleby stood there in a filmy, gauzy sundress that bared her shoulders and arms, showing off smooth, creamy skin and a body he suddenly, sharply wanted squirming beneath his. She had a hand on her hip, her mouth turned upside down in a frown, her eyes narrowed as she took in his low-slung jeans and unbuttoned shirt hanging open over his torso.
From some part of his brain, he acknowledged the hard kick to his gut. And also farther south.
He’d seen her every morning, of course, strutting her stuff in her designer wear and towering heels as she got into her Audi with Hope in tow, the girl a contrast in her stark black and shimmering metal rings and belts and earrings. Neither of them had appeared at the teen center, though he’d spoken to Hope yesterday afternoon about her car, which needed an alternator and water pump. She’d thanked him for the news and said she’d get it fixed, but he knew she probably didn’t have the money for it. Kevin also knew through Mike, who’d gotten the scoop from Tess, that Hope was having fun with all things electronic in Mia’s life, and it’d amused Kevin to think about Mia dealing with the teen on a daily basis.
Mia knocked again, her eyes narrowed, looking ready to chew him up and spit him out, and still he felt a surge of unwanted lust.
Which really proved it. His brother wasn’t the idiot. He was. “Where’s Hope?” he asked through the glass.
“Hopefully packing.”
It was Thursday. He’d thought she wasn’t going home until the weekend. “She’s leaving? By herself?”
“Listen, that little tornado can take care of herself. Trust me.”
When he just looked at her, she sighed. “I’m not letting her take off by herself. “Sugar’s coming for her on Saturday. Happy now?”
Happy? Was she kidding? “What is she really doing?”
“Probably hot-wiring my car. Believe me, she’s capable.”
“She’s a sweet kid.”
Mia laughed, a low, throaty sound. “Yeah, sweet. Listen, about tomorrow. I can’t have that ‘sweet’ kid with me at work anymore. Now, before you begin with a lecture, you should know, she wired hip-hop and rap into my building’s speakers at decibels previously uncharted. She rerouted the phones through the donut shop on the lobby level. She—”
Kevin smiled. “Smart kid.”
“She stole my boss’s wallet.”
His smile faded. “Ah, hell. Really?”
“So the story goes. So are you going to let me in or not?”
Was the Pope Catholic? Did a bear shit in the woods? He wondered what she wore beneath that dress—
“Earth to Kevin. Come in, Kevin.”
“I’m thinking.” He paused while she swore softly beneath her breath, some slur on his heritage, and despite himself, a smile tugged out of him. “I didn’t hear a please.”
“Goddamnit, let me in.”
He had no idea why, but he pulled open the door, then blocked her way in with a hand on the jamb. Her middle pressed against his forearm, and despite the chill in her voice, she was warm, very warm. He knew from experience her bare skin would be even warmer, and taste like heaven. “Maybe we should set some ground rules first,” he said.
She blinked once, slow as an owl. The warm beat of desire pulsed between them along with the storm. “Like?”
“Like…” God, she smelled amazing. Something exotic, sensual. And she looked good enough to eat right then and there. “Like no—”
She slid past him, making sure to glide that glorious body of hers all over his as she did. “No…what?” she murmured, spinning to face him in his own kitchen, a daring, tough, cocky, miserable light in her eyes he figured he knew all too well.
She’d had a rough day, she was hurting, and she needed oblivion.
Him.
Damn it. “No—oomph—” was all he managed as she obliterated the rules by wrapping herself around him and kissing him—and not a hello-sweetheart kind of kiss, either, but a deep, wet, hot one—and only when air was required did she pull back. “You were saying?”
“Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “Um…no more of that, for one thing. And no touching, either. And especially no fu—”
She lifted a condom out of her pocket, brandishing it like a trophy as she shimmied out of her sundress, answering his question of what she wore beneath it.
Just a set of high-heeled sandals and bright pink toenail polish. He took in her taut, tan skin, smooth limbs, high, full breasts. Between her legs, she was freshly waxed.
Kevin heard the rough groan leave his throat, and he slammed shut his eyes. “Put that dress back on.”
“Why?”
“Because we’re not doing this. Damn it, we’re not.”
“How about next time we don’t.”
“Mia—”
“You want me.”
He supposed she was referring to the hard-on currently straining his jeans. “I want a lot of things. To play for the Lakers, a Bahamas cruise, world peace—”
“Me,” she said. “You want me.”
“Maybe I’d like to get to know you first.”
She put her hands on her hips as if this was the stupidest thing she’d ever heard. “What?”
“You heard me. Favorite color, obnoxious siblings, high school…I’d like to hear it.”
Still naked, she stared at him. “You have got to be joking.”
“Nope. Talk to me.”
“You want to talk? Right now?” She spread out her arms. “While I’m naked?”
“I want to know you, Mia. You.”
She looked at him as if he’d grown a second head, and for some odd reason this got to him. Had no one ever said such a thing to her before? Had no one ever worked their way beneath her tough-as-shit exterior? And who was under there anyway? He knew she worked hard, that she’d let Hope stay to be kind, that she had a Southern accent when she was upset. But he wanted more.
“You really want me to talk to you,” she repeated, sounding stunned.
/> “Yes.”
“And if I talk, you’ll get naked?”
“Talk, and we’ll see.”
She narrowed her eyes but didn’t get dressed. “Okay. I’m…a Leo.”
“Big surprise,” he murmured, trying not to swallow his tongue at how magnificent she was, standing there.
She actually laughed, telling him she did have a sense of humor to go with all that sharp wit. “Yeah. Um…what else?”
“You tell me.”
She shook her head, still baffled. “Uh…I like big, open, clean spaces.”
“What don’t you like?”
“Talking when I could be having sex.”
Now he laughed. “Tell me something about your past.”
She looked down at her nude body and shook her head again, displaying disbelief that he wasn’t ravishing her. “I went to UCLA—”
“Before UCLA. Tell me about your parents. Your childhood.”
Her face closed up. “I didn’t come here for that.”
No kidding. He raced for something to say rather than reach for her. “How do you even know we’re alone?”
“Because your brother took out Tess. And I’ll tell you right now, Ace.” She pointed a finger in his face, utterly unconcerned with her nudity. “He’d better not mess with her head. She’s sweet and warm and nice. Special. She falls easily and hard, and she’s been hurt. There. Now I’ve talked.” She slapped the condom on the counter, slid a hand around the nape of his neck, and pulled him down for another brain-destroying kiss, which he returned. God, the feel of her bared body against his clothed one. Why was he wearing clothes? “Mmm” rumbled helplessly from his chest as she spread hot open-mouthed kisses along his throat, across a pec, a nipple, which she licked, then bit.
God. He entangled his fingers in her hair. “Wait,” he managed.
“‘Wait’ isn’t in my vocabulary.” She dropped to her knees and put her mouth low on his belly while tugging on the buttons of his Levi’s.
“Mia—”
Pop, pop. “Right here,” she said and yanked down his jeans, leaving him dangling in the wind, so to speak. Because his knees were wobbling, he sank to them, not easy with his jeans hampering his descent. She reached for his erection.
“Stop.”
