Finder's Keeper (23 page)

“We don’t try to change one another. If you love someone, you accept them.”

Mia snorted. “I think Mama might have a different definition.”

“Perhaps. But she isn’t the only one.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Didn’t you come here determined to make her change?”

“Change her mind,” she protested. “Not change who she is.”

“Is that so very different?”

“Of course it is.”

“If your mother doesn’t have the right to tell Teresa she’s wrong, how do you have the right to tell your mother the same thing?”

“This isn’t a philosophy question, Daddy.”

“Isn’t it?” Then he flicked his fingers, dismissively, a silent
never mind
. “Your mother may always struggle to understand you, Mia. But she loves you. And your sister. Your mama…she’s always reacted with her heart first and her head second. Right now her heart hurts because one of her girls is having to make a compromise your mama doesn’t want her to have to make. She’s handling it badly, but as soon as she sees Teresa’s baby—wherever it comes from—she’ll have a change of heart.”

“And in the meantime?”

He shrugged. “Teresa is stronger than she looks. Not as strong as you, but she can handle this.”

Mia blinked, startled. Her father thought she was strong? Stronger than Teresa? “I should get back to work.”

He nodded, reaching for the book he’d set aside without another word. She stood, but paused on her way out of the room, crossing to her father and dropping a kiss onto his cheek. “Thanks, Daddy.”

He patted her hand and she slipped out of the room. Nothing had been resolved, nothing changed, but she felt lighter in spite of the lack of concrete results.

She was halfway down the front walk when her phone rang. Mia scrambled for it, feeling a moment of panic that something had gone horribly wrong at the lab on the one day she’d taken an afternoon off. Not that there was anything
to
go wrong. There were no test subjects coming in today and only data analysis and sample testing to be done. That knowledge notwithstanding, she couldn’t help the surge of irrational fear that the Lathrop building had exploded without her there monitoring its continued existence.

The call wasn’t from her office, but from her little sister. She swiped a thumb to connect it, transferring to her Bluetooth as she climbed into her car.

“Hey Gina.”

“Is it the apocalypse?”

Mia frowned. “Excuse me?”

“I called your office line first and you weren’t there. I’m just wondering if I should be on the lookout for Four Horsemen.”

“Cute. I was at Mom and Dad’s. Teresa asked me if I could talk some sense into Mama.”

Gina made a sympathetic noise. “How’d that go? I tried again yesterday but she’s really digging in her heels. Did you have any luck?”

“She wasn’t there. I ended up talking to Daddy instead.”

“Probably for the best. How is Mr. Bennett today?”

“Who?”

“Just another of those cultural references you claim to be so savvy about. Never mind. Forget Dad. How’s
Chase
?”

Mia had no idea how to answer that question. For all that she studied how the human brain reacted to emotional stimuli, she was starting to realize she didn’t know the first thing about being in a relationship that was based on anything more than professional compatibility. A real relationship, not a cardboard facsimile of a bond. This thing with Chase was already more intimate than any relationship she’d had before. And she had no idea how to process that fact.

“Mia? You still there?”

“We went on a date last night,” Mia blurted, incapable of thinking of anything more profound to say. “His furnace broke down.”

“Is that some kind of clever euphemism I’m supposed to understand? Because I haven’t slept a full night in two months and I’m a little slow with the innuendos these days.”

“No, his actual furnace. In his house. It broke. So we had to cut our date short so he could meet with his property guy.” And the experience had somehow been a thousand times more intimate than a date could have been.

“Oh, bummer. Furnaces are expensive as hell. Did you at least sex him out of his funk afterward?”

“
Gina
. Jeez.” Mia swallowed thickly, her hands at ten and two as she tried to focus on the road and not the rather graphic images of her
sexing Chase out of his funk
that her hindbrain had provided. “We haven’t…you know…yet.”

“Playing hard to get, huh? Good for you. Make him work for it.”

“I’m not playing,” Mia protested, then admitted, “I don’t know
how
to play hard to get.”

“So what’s the problem? You’re obviously into him. He’s insanely into you.” Gina lowered her voice, “Don’t tell me he’s got ED?”

“Boundaries, Gina, for the love of God.”

“Well, does he? Because there’s a pill for that.”

“As far as I know there is nothing wrong with his apparatus.”

Gina’s snort echoed in the interior of the car. “
Please
call it his ‘apparatus’ next time you’re talking dirty to him. I beg you.”

Mia’s face flamed. “
Gina
.” Talking dirty, just another thing at which she was utterly inept.

She wasn’t embarrassed by sex. It was a natural function, a biological imperative—scientifically pure. But her own lack of expertise in the area of copulation was daunting. Mortifying, even.

Not that she hadn’t gotten busy, to borrow one of Gina’s euphemisms, with Peter. Their intercourse had always been satisfactory, but the thought that her performance would be sub-par when compared with Chase’s doubtless vast experience… Mia could not stomach the idea of being below average.

Her sister was talking, but Mia didn’t bother to tune into the words, just waiting for a pause and asking, “How do you know if you excel at intercourse?”

A choking sound came through the speakers. “Christ, Mia. Warn a girl when you’re about to ask something like that. I almost snorted OJ out my nose.”

“It’s a pertinent question to the topic at hand.”

“Oh honey. Have you ever noticed that your vocab goes into uber-scientific mode when you’re nervous?”

“I am…concerned. About the outcome of our copulation.”

“The outcome? Like an orgasm? Mia, please tell me you’ve had an orgasm.”

“I have.” Mia pulled into the parking lot of the Lathrop Institute and turned off the engine, leaving the electrical system on to maintain the car’s Bluetooth and folding her hands in her lap to keep from fidgeting. “My concern is that my performance, while practiced, will be less skillful than that to which he is accustomed and he will be disappointed.”

Her real concern was that he would dump her for being crappy in bed, but she couldn’t say that to her little sister.

She could
do
sex, but it wasn’t the kind of interaction people wrote sonnets about. Not the way she did it. She was too cerebral to be effectively physical. She couldn’t lose herself in sensation because she was always analyzing the biofeedback provided by her senses. Smart and sexual just didn’t go together.

And it didn’t help that she hadn’t done it in a while. She just wanted so badly to please Chase. Sex would mean something with him. She was invested—far more than she’d ever anticipated being.

“Sweetie, you’re gonna be great. Just try not to give yourself a complex about it.”

Too late
. “While I appreciate the sentiment, Gina, I’m not asking for a pep talk. Unless you have practical advice or techniques you would like to share.”

“Hey, don’t underestimate the importance of confidence. Being into it is about the sexiest thing a person can do.”

An image of Chase flashed through her mind. His abnormal good looks and wry twinkling eyes. “I don’t think being into it is going to be an issue.” If only she could expect that
he
would be into it. She wasn’t exactly pin-up material. She had a good body with efficient limbs that did what she told them, but studies had shown men preferred curves which she patently lacked. “I’m seeing him tonight for another round of neural scans. Maybe we should just get it over with. Like ripping off a Band-Aid.”

“Sweetie, please don’t broach the topic with him that way.”

“Well how am I supposed to broach it? This is not helping, Gina. Unless you have more explicit instructions, I don’t see how—”

“Okay,” Gina said, taking on a businesslike tone, “I’m going to share with you my guaranteed, make-his-eyes-roll-back-in-his-head blow job trick.”

“Oh, thank God. Hold on, let me get something to take notes.” Mia dove into the glove box, pulling out an old oil change receipt and flipping it over as she rummaged for a writing utensil.

Gina laughed. “While you’re getting a pen, try to practice step one:
Relax
. He’s lucky to have you, Mia. If he gets to. You don’t have to sleep with him if you don’t want to.”

Mia clicked her pen, holding it poised. “Okay. I’m ready. Shoot.”

Gina giggled. “I’ll give you a thousand dollars to say that when you’re on your knees about to employ my trick.”

“Gina.”

“Sorry. Couldn’t help it. Are you really taking notes?”

“I want to get this right.”

“Okay. Step one, relax and don’t forget to breathe.”

Mia scribbled furiously. “Breathe. Check.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

Inspirational Science

“Comfortable?”

Chase’s eyebrows flew up at Mia’s drill sergeant-like bark and he suppressed a grin. They were back in the exam room and he was back in the chair, but this time, as Mia slapped sensor after sensor onto his cranium, the tension in the room was decidedly hot, as opposed to the arctic chill of last time.

He was relaxed, actually. Surprisingly comfortable considering the train wreck of their last date and the financial ax hanging over his head. It was Mia who was jumpy as hell.

He’d arrived at seven o’clock sharp, ready for the next round of tests. When he’d gone in for a hello kiss at the door, she’d jerked like he’d tazed her, turned bright red and stared at the floor. She hadn’t looked up since. Which would have worried him except upon closer inspection, he realized it wasn’t the floor she was staring at. It was his crotch. With anyone else he would have thought she was checking out his package, but from the expression on Mia’s face, it was more likely she was trying to see if she could castrate him with lasers shot from her eyes.

But all things considered… “Yeah, I’m comfortable.”

“Good.” She bustled around the room, fussing with her instruments, the unnecessary excess of movement uncharacteristic enough to be disturbing.

“Is everything okay?”

Her eyes finally snapped to his, gleaming bright and aggressive. “Of course. Are you ready to begin?”

He could have called her on the lie—she only got that combative gleam when she was feeling defensive—but she obviously didn’t want to address whatever was bothering her, so he just held out his hand, palm up, and said, “Ready when you are.”

They’d agreed to start with him trying to find the watch as she recorded his neural activity, killing two birds with one stone if he could get a successful read. If he couldn’t get a lock on it, she would bring in her research assistants in the next session to hide things from one another which he might have a better chance of locating. She seemed convinced there would be a neurological reaction associated with success and had even mentioned the possibility that she could stimulate a successful read if she could identify the neural network responsible. Chase was inclined to think the lack of success had little to do with him—he was just the tool. It wasn’t the compass’s fault the hiker got lost.

Mia rolled her desk chair next to his, perched on the edge of it and placed her icy fingers across his palm. He wrapped his fingers around hers, giving a little squeeze. She frowned, twisting in her chair to face the monitors.

“Begin.”

“Remember to focus on the watch and why you want it.”

She nodded jerkily. Chase opened up the part of his mind that held his ability and the deafening static of Mia’s mimosa-tanged intangibles crashed into his brain. Her incredibly
graphic
intangibles.

Her lips wrapped around his cock, sucking, drawing. His hands tight in her hair, urging her on, shoving himself deeper.

Chase nearly convulsed under the wave of eroticism that burst into his brain and erupted through his body. He was instantly hard, his breath coming fast, and even his damn eyelashes felt singed by the carnal heat pouring from Mia’s mind into his. “
Jesus fucking damn, Mia
.”

Mia dropped his hand, swiveling toward the monitors, her eyes alit with a hungry intensity that seemed to be purely intellectual—just proving how deceiving the surface could be for Dr. Mia Corregianni. “Your heart rate accelerated substantially,” Mia marveled, talking to herself even though the words were ostensibly directed at him.

Chase bit back the urge to growl trying to get his body back under control.
Ya think?
while

“Did you find it?”

He shook his head, still trying to get the blood to divert back to his brain.

She cursed without heat, then tapped one of the monitors and began chattering about elevated activity in cortexes and other gibberish he didn’t have a prayer of understanding. When he could breathe again without panting, he cleared his throat, more than a little surprised when her gaze immediately jumped off the monitor to meet his.

“How did that feel to you?” she asked, fingers poised above a keyboard to make notes on his answers. “Was that a normal failed find attempt?”

“
No
. Jesus, Mia.” He wiped a hand across his face. “The transference is getting worse. I told you before that it feels different with you and now, it’s like it’s louder and
deeper
somehow. I don’t know how else to say it. It’s like I can see everything in your thoughts
except
what you want me to find. Normally, it’s just static in the background, but with you, fuck, I don’t know. It’s like I’ve got a direct link right into your id or something.”