by Jill Shalvis
“But who you were factors in. You’re a smart woman. You know that.”
Maybe. But she’d been running for so many years because she didn’t want to face the fact that, looking around at her life right now, right this minute, she might have to admit she was far more her momma’s daughter than she’d ever wanted to be. Sure, she had money and a good job, but she hadn’t ever kept a man, or even a friend, for longer than it took to sneeze.
Tess being the exception somehow, but mostly that was a tribute to Tess’s tenacity rather than anything Mia had done. “Look,” she said. “I don’t lean easily, I don’t share easily, you know that. But I do both with you more than anyone else.”
Tess sniffed, sounding slightly appeased. “Well, that counts for something, I suppose.”
“I have to go. You wouldn’t believe the crap here. So are we okay?”
“Yeah. I love you, Mia.”
Mia sighed. Lots of people were throwing that word around lately. But there was leaning, and there was truth. “Damn it, I love you back.” She hung up.
Then dialed a local hotel she often used for business. No availability. A few minutes later she discovered why, after calling her way through the phonebook. Thanks to some geek/tech convention that had come to town, there wasn’t a single hotel worth staying in within thirty miles that had availability, and she was not going to a motel, thank you very much.
If it had been just herself, Mia might have taken her credit card and her weary soul off to the Bahamas until she could deal with her issues, but she had Hope.
And Hope had school.
Finally she escaped the building she would have sworn she loved being inside more than life itself and took her first deep breath of the day, even if it was pure smog.
She drove straight to Tess’s. “I need a pound of cookie dough,” she said when Tess opened her door. “And a spoon.”
Mike peeked out over Tess’s shoulder with a grin on his face. He smiled at Mia, kissed Tess, and then, with a wave, left.
Mia watched him go, then looked at Tess. She wore a matching grin to Mike’s, flour smudged on her cheek, and sported a suspicious-looking red spot on her throat that screamed I just had sex. When Mia shot her a bland smile, Tess covered her red cheeks with her hands. “So I needed some cheering up.”
“I didn’t say a word.”
“Honey, you speak volumes with the mere arch of a brow.”
“Look, a good cheer-up requires chocolate, not a penis.”
“Hello Mrs. Pot. Meet Kettle.”
Mia let out a sigh. “I’m just worried about your tender heart getting broken.”
“Well, don’t.” Tess’s smile faded and so did some of her glow. She turned away and went into the tiny kitchen and began to measure ingredients. “I’m just having fun. I’m not going to let my heart get involved.”
Mia squeezed into the kitchen and hopped up onto the counter. “That’s new.”
“Yeah, well, maybe things change.”
“Like what things?”
“Like maybe he has a bazillion women to chose from and I’m fairly worthless at the moment,” Tess said quietly, mixing dry ingredients in a bowl.
“What?” Fury rose hard and fast. “You’re not worthless, and if he said—”
“No. He adores me. He’s sweet and kind and sexy and funny, and makes me feel like I’m the most important thing on the planet.”
“But…?” Mia asked, reaching for a bowl that looked finished. She fished a wooden spoon out of the canister and dug in. “Because I’m feeling like there’s a big ‘but’ here.”
Tess shook her head. “It’s nothing.”
“Tell me.”
“Other women text-message him, or at least one did. I read it. It said Come do me.”
“What?”
“He was so embarrassed, and deleted it right away. He told me that he’s led a fairly wild past and that sometimes that past comes up and bites him on the ass, but that’s he’s changed. That since me, he’s changed.”
“And you believe him?”
Tess stared at her, then shook her head. “I want to.”
“Oh, Tess.”
“Look, I’m getting ready for the unemployment line, okay? I don’t have a lot of time to stress about this.”
A stab of guilt pierced Mia’s heart. “Collect unemployment because Dickhead is an asshole, but we’re going to make this cookie dough thing work. I’ve made a bunch of calls. I have a few clients interested in using the dough as charity fund-raisers. They’re going to call you.”
“Oh, Mia. Thank you—”
“I don’t want your thanks. After all you’ve ever done for me? My God. I’d do anything.”
“Stop.” She began to pour the dough into the pound-size containers she sold to her customers.
Mia dug into hers and moaned out loud. White chocolate chip. “Oh, my God. That’s better than sex.”
Tess laughed. “No, it’s not.”
Mia thought of Kevin and how good he felt buried deep inside her, and felt a shiver rack her. “Okay, not quite. But close. Seriously, you’re going to be the Mrs. Fields of cookie dough.”
Tess grinned. “I want to be.”
“You need a bigger kitchen.”
“Yeah, but the start-up cost—”
“I’ll lend it to you. No, don’t say no yet,” she said quickly when Tess opened her mouth. “Just think about it. Cookie dough in malls across the country…you’ll make millions.”
“I don’t need millions,” Tess said softly. “Just enough to get by on so that I could stay home with my babies.”
“Babies!” Mia grabbed her shoulders. “You’re not—”
“No. But someday…”
“You are not thinking of having babies with Mike.” But the look on Tess’s face said it all. “Shit.” Mia dug for another big spoonful of dough. “That’s insane.” The sugar rush began, but she took yet another. “Utterly and totally insane. I mean, sure, he’s cute and sexy as hell, I’ll give you that. But the text messages—”
“You should have seen his face, Mia. He was horrified that I would think he was with another woman during this time he’d been with me. He wanted me to believe him.”
“And you do.”
She sighed. “He doesn’t know it yet, but yes. I think I do. Don’t say it’s too soon.”
“Can I just think it?”
“I have so much going on. I need you. I need your help.”
Mia’s gut twisted. “I’m right here. For anything. You know that.”
“I know. I’m blessed, because Mike said the same thing.” When she saw Mia’s face, she smiled. “You know, it’s okay to lean on a man once in a while.”
“Why would you want to lean on anyone?” Mia asked a bit desperately, thinking of Kevin and how she’d had the urge to do just that. “And how do you really know it’s okay?” she whispered.
“You have to trust.” Reaching over, Tess squeezed her hand. “Let your guard down once in a while.”
Mia stuffed another spoonful of dough in her mouth, then looked at her watch and groaned. “I’ve gotta go. I have to run a few errands, find a hotel, pick up the kid, then work some more. Damn it.”
“You used to love your work.”
Yeah, and wasn’t that yet another worry. Something was happening to her neat and tidy world, something not so neat or tidy at all…
Mia raced out of Tess’s place and ran her errands; the printing shop for the new Runner posters that she’d had made, the shoe-repair shop where she’d turned in the Manolos with the broken heel, the dry cleaners…
By the time she finished, she had five minutes to pick up Hope before the teen center closed. She had no idea what happened if she was late, but just thinking about it brought back memories of her mother being late to pick her up from school. She could remember sitting on the curb all alone, an hour or more after the bell had rung, feeling as if no one gave a shit.
God. If she did that to Hope…She popped
open her cell phone and dialed Hope’s while navigating the 134 east.
“Hey,” came Hope’s Southern drawl.
“Hey,” Mia said quickly. “I’m on my way, I’ll be there—”
“Sorry, I can’t answer right now, but you all be sure to leave me a message and I’ll get back to you.”
Damn it! The kid’s voice mail. What did a sixteen-year-old have going on that she couldn’t answer her phone?
The possibilities, none of them good, goaded her into speeding as she called information for the teen center. She got directly connected, then waited impatiently while that phone rang.
And rang.
“’Lo,” came a low, annoyed voice of a male teen. “Teen center.”
“Yes, this is Mia Appleby. I’d like to speak to Hope Appleby, please.”
“Not here.”
“What? What do you mean she’s not there?”
“She’s not here.”
“Look, I thought you people aren’t supposed to leave until your adult signs you out!”
No answer.
“Hello?”
“Hold on.”
She grated her teeth and got stuck behind a truck. She tapped her fingers on the steering wheel while she thought of all the things that Hope could be doing: smoking, rewiring the entire teen center, cavorting with boys.
She really hated holding.
She hated waiting.
She hated—
“Mia.”
Just the sound of Kevin’s voice, low and a little rough, made her belly do a little quiver. Too much cookie dough, she told herself. “Yeah. Hi. I’m trying to get ahold of Hope.”
“Ah.”
She heard the quick flash of disappointment in his voice as he realized she wasn’t calling for him, which brought a flash of shame to her cheeks, because she tended to show up in his world only when she needed him. When had she gotten so selfish? “I’m sorry, it’s just that she didn’t answer her cell—”
“I sent her on an errand to my classroom. She’ll be right back.”
“Oh. Okay, thank you.”
“Want me to leave her a message?”
So formal. He’d been buried inside her to the hilt, holding her face for his deep, hot, wet kiss as he decimated her with achingly slow thrusts designed to drive her right out of her mind, and here they were saying please and thank you like strangers. She hated this. She opened her mouth to say so, to say she was sorry she was so stubborn in her ways, to say she didn’t know how to be anything other than what she was but that she wanted him to like that woman. She really, really wanted that.
But the words stuck like straw in her throat. Damn pride. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d choked on it. “No,” she finally managed. “Thank you,” she said again, inanely, and clicked off.
Drove.
Swore.
Yeah, the power had shifted, from herself to another.
To a man.
That was a first, an uncomfortable one, and she didn’t like it. Not one bit.
Chapter Nineteen
A few minutes later, Mia came to a standstill in traffic and felt her brain matter begin to boil. Never going to get there in time.
Why hadn’t she just told Kevin? Now she had to call again.
The same sullen teen answered the phone at the teen center, and she strove for casual. “Hi. Can I talk to Kevin again, please?”
She waited longer this time. Finally he picked up. “McKnight.”
She let out a low breath and tried not to react to the way he said his name, as if he had all the confidence in the world, as if everything was as it should be, no doubts, no stress, nothing. “It’s me.”
He said nothing and she let out a breath. “Again.” She winced. “I, um…” Lost in the desire to get him to soften toward her, she actually forgot what she’d wanted to say.
“You lose your nerve?” he asked.
“No. I just…”
“Just what? Why can’t you say it? That you hated the way we got off the phone just now. That you care about what I think. That you want us to be more than fuck buddies.”
“Actually, I called to tell you I’m running late.” At his silence, she pressed the phone to her forehead, then brought it back to her ear. “Okay, yes. And I hated the way we got off the phone just now. All right? Happy?”
“Jumping for joy.”
“Look, I really am going to be a few minutes late. I didn’t know the protocol.”
“I can take Hope home so you don’t worry about it while you’re navigating traffic.”
“I can multitask.”
“Then multitask this—drive carefully while thinking about what I’m going to do to you tonight.”
Her thighs quivered at the threat/promise, so silkily uttered she got goose bumps. “There’s, uh, going to be a tonight?”
“Oh, there’s going to be a tonight. My way.”
She swallowed hard.
“Drive safe,” he said again.
It wasn’t often someone wanted to do something for her, and she squirmed for a moment, fighting with that age-old nemesis—her pride.
“This is where you say, ‘Okay, Kevin, thanks.’”
In spite of herself, she had to smile. “Yeah. Thanks.”
“Well, look at that,” he said softly. “You didn’t choke on it.” Before she could process that, he said, “You can bring dinner. Pizza? The works would be great.”
“I hadn’t been planning on—” But she was talking to herself, because he’d disconnected. He had no idea, of course, that she didn’t have time for that.
She had work to do, a teen to watch, a house to pack up, a hotel to find—
Ah, hell. She dialed information for the number of the local pizza joint.
And then did as he asked: drove while thinking about what he was going to do to her tonight.
Mia arrived at home half an hour later still wondering about what Kevin intended. She hadn’t even gotten out of her car before she heard the wild cheering and screaming. Hoisting two pizzas and her briefcase, she followed the noise to the basketball court and stopped in surprise. From what she could gather, it was Kevin and Hope against Mike and Tess.
Tess, who’d never followed, much less played, a competitive game or sport in her life. Unlike the others, Tess wasn’t wearing shorts, but a denim skirt, which made Mia laugh. Even she’d change out of her designer wear for a game.
Kevin was in a damp T-shirt stuck to his chest that read REPEAT AFTER ME: I WILL NOT SLEEP THROUGH MY EDUCATION and big, baggy basketball shorts hanging to his knees, with athletic shoes that should have been retired in the previous millennium.
He looked good enough to lap up with her tongue.
Mike snagged the ball from him, giving his brother a nice elbow to the gut as he did. Kevin bent over, and Mike tossed the ball to Tess.
Tess looked at the ball in her hands.
Mike waved his hands at her, gesturing that she should run and make a basket.
“Right!” Tess whirled and ran with the ball.
Without dribbling.
Mia rolled her eyes. “Tess, dribble!” she yelled from the sidelines.
Tess stopped and looked at her. “Huh?”
“Bounce the ball!”
Kevin straightened and started laughing out loud. “Travel!”
Mike elbowed him again, and Tess got to the basket before Hope caught up with her.
“Now what?” Tess called to Mia.
“You shoot!”
“Hope! You’re supposed to stop her!” Kevin called out, planting a hand in Mike’s face, holding him off from delivering another elbow blow. “Grab the ball from her!”
But Hope didn’t. She and Tess were talking.
“I’m not very good at this,” Tess was saying.
“It’s okay. Here.” Hope showed her how to shoot with just one hand beneath the ball, the other merely a guide. “Keep your elbow in,” she said. “I heard Kevin say that earlier.”
Tess
shot. The ball went too far to the left.
Hope grabbed it and handed it back to Tess. “Try again.”
Kevin flopped to the floor dramatically and groaned. “This is not basketball.” He turned his head and leveled that dark gaze right on Mia, still standing at the fence. “Do you see how she is? Completely disloyal.”
Hope laughed.
Laughed.
Mia turned her head and stared at the girl, realizing she’d never heard the sound before. Hope jogged back to Kevin and sat at his side, Indian style. “Don’t worry,” she said and patted his shoulder. “We still totally won. I made sure of that before I stopped to help.”
“Good girl.” Weakly, he held up a high five.
She slapped it, then grinned, looking sweet, adorable, and very sixteen. “Did you see that last layup I pulled off?”
“Amazing.” Groaning, he rolled over and got up, then offered her a hand up as well, which she took. “You should play high school basketball.”
Hope blinked her black-lined eyes. “Really?”
“I’d recruit you. I coach the varsity team during the season.”
Hope shot a quick glance at Mia, and her smile faded. “That’s cool.”
They all knew she’d be long gone by then. The thought brought a pang to Mia, but she smiled and lifted the pizza.
Everyone perked up at that and headed off the court.
“Oh, and here’s another adventure,” Mia said as they gathered their things. “Hope and I are out of my place by six thirty for the exterminator. We’ll have to hotel it for a week. Probably in downtown, though—nothing’s available here. I’m thinking the Biltmore…I know, tough life, right?”
Kevin shook his head. “Don’t do that. Stay with us.”
Mia laughed.
“I’m serious.”
Hope jumped up and down. “Yes!”
Mia shook her head. “No.” No way. No way in hell. She couldn’t even look at his house without wanting to strip down and jump his bones. She couldn’t stay there. In such close quarters, it’d be…intensified. Maybe they’d have great sex, like always, and then what? She’d have nowhere to go afterward, nowhere—
“What’s the matter?” Kevin asked. “Worried I’ll hear you sing in the shower?”
