Finder's Keeper (29 page)

The heavy thud of Karma’s fist against her desk jarred him out of his vacation fantasy. “You’re an idiot, Chase.”

The outburst was so uncharacteristic, he gaped at her. “Karma? Are you feeling all right?”

She ignored the question, plowing on, irritation bright behind her dark eyes. “There are times when it is important to let people be idiots—you’re a man and it’s your prerogative—but I think you’ve overstayed your lease on idiocy. I try to be patient, but I’m in no mood to indulge you tonight. I’m tired and you’re a moron.”

Chase blinked, as surprised by her admission that she was tired as he was by her declaration of his idiocy.

“Were you using Mia Corregianni?”

“I didn’t—”

“It’s obvious you have some kind of relationship with her and now you’re running off to Bali. Scared off your too-pretty-for-your-own-damn-good ass.” Her chin jutted up, the gesture oddly aggressive considering her usual contained stillness. “Why?”

She waited, obviously expecting an answer, but words froze like jagged ice chips in his throat. He swallowed in an attempt to melt them.

“I’ve watched you cling to your isolation. It was your right to choose your own way of mourning and I tried to respect that even as I watched you dodge every hint of a real, human connection. If you avoided anything that might have given you a real life because you couldn’t face the fact that the life you might have had was taken from you, that was your choice. And if you want to choose that now—fine.” Her hands swept out, eloquent in their impatience. “Is that who you want to be, Chase? A lonely old bastard who lived a shadow of a life because he was too chicken-shit to take a second chance?”

Her words bludgeoned him, battered him.

“Are you really that afraid?”

“Yes
.
”

The word burst out, stopping Karma’s rant in its tracks.

“Yes, I’m that scared. And saying it doesn’t change it.”

She leaned back in her chair, her ferocity muted by his admission. “If you want to go to Bali, go to Bali. But consider two things while you’re drifting on the water.” She held up a single slim finger. “By running from the hope of more, you may find you are doing for yourself what you are so afraid of fate doing for you—ripping everything that can make you happy out of your life.”

He felt his muscles tense against the assault of the words. “And the second thing?”

Karma’s smile was icy. “You aren’t just punishing yourself. What kind of selfish bastard is so scared of his past he hurts the people who love him? The woman he loves?”

“I don’t l—” He couldn’t finish the sentence. He already loved her. It was too late to deny it.

Karma shrugged, the gesture dismissing him. “Just something to think about on your flight to Bali. Alone.”

What would Mia think of Bali? What would it be like to see it through her eyes?
Chase shook away the thought, dismissing it roughly, and left before Karma could give him any more tough love. He’d had all he could take for the night.

He walked out to his car, determined to go home, only to realize the only place he wanted to go was Mia’s house. His apartment, his parents’ house, even the beach, none of it called to him, but he wasn’t ready to see her again. Wasn’t quite ready to stop being an idiot yet. He didn’t know if he ever would be.

Chapter Thirty-One

Eggs-cruciating

Mia sat at her kitchen table, studying the man making her breakfast. It was the wrong man.

The watch was an anvil against her breastbone, taunting her with the life she’d thought she wanted.

Peter was back. The golden fleece of teaching positions had been offered to him at a nearby university and he was in town to “consider his options”. Part of that consideration apparently involved her. And a family.

He’d appeared at her lab the night before and proposed before he even took off his coat. Scotland had apparently given him a personality lobotomy because he had decided he wanted a house in the suburbs and children on the honor roll to go with his academic success. He’d already explained that Mia was the ideal mother because they’d more than demonstrated their intellectual and social compatibility.

It was eerie how much his arguments had echoed her own thoughts—right down to the words she would have chosen to make the same points—but all she could think was that her children wouldn’t have the charm gene or even a remote genetic probability of inheriting blue eyes.

Neither of which should matter, since Chase had taken himself out of the picture. And yet…

Peter stood at her counter, scrambling eggs with precise flicks of his wrist and humming tunelessly to himself. The years had been kind to him. Men did age insultingly well. The silver threading his dark hair at his temples and laugh lines creasing the corners of his eyes made what had already been an austerely handsome face even more dignified and elegant. His long-fingered hands, hands that should have belonged to an artist, still snared her attention with carefully practiced gestures to emphasize his points as he enumerated all the reasons they were perfectly suited to one another.

His voice was still deep and he still spoke with the same lingering deliberation, though he’d picked up just the hint of Scotland in his speech, more an inflection than an actual accent. He’d also taken to calling her “love” which she found inexplicably irritating, even though she’d long since stopped being bothered by Chase’s mildly sarcastic sweethearts and honeys.

Peter stood in her kitchen—brilliant, stable, eminently compatible and laying out a life for the two of them in her own words. He was Mr. Perfect—correction,
Dr.
Perfect. Even Occam seemed to agree, panting softly as he leaned his tiny head against Peter’s ankle and gazed adoringly up at the source of bacon scraps.

And all she could think was how much she missed Chase. Drop-out, bullshit artist, surfer Chase.

Chase who had walked out without even a goodbye.

She’d put the watch on to lure her love back to her…and Peter had appeared. Chase had taught her to believe in the magic of the watch, to trust it, but if it was pointing her toward Peter…

Peter looked over his shoulder at her as he unerringly opened a cupboard to get out the plates, his eyes crinkling. “I see everything is just as I remembered.”

Mia frowned. Obviously he wasn’t just referring to the plates. The wordplay wasn’t like him and she had to bite back the urge to tell him that she wasn’t as he remembered. She’d changed. Chase had changed her.

For the better?

In the harsh light of morning, she wasn’t sure. She’d been distracted yesterday. Sure, she loved Chase, but did love make her inefficient? A less productive member of society? To be a better scientist, did she need to be with someone she didn’t care about in a passionate manner? Someone with whom she could leave all thoughts of him at her lab door?

Was the watch perhaps telling her that she wasn’t actually designed for romantic love? That her life would be richer through contributions to the human race rather than emotional self-indulgence?

“Have you thought any more about what we talked about last night?” Peter didn’t look away from his task as he poured the frothy eggs into the skillet.

Last night. His proposal.

He was a good man, a brilliant scientist and the embodiment of a leave-your-emotions-at-the-lab-door husband. He’d let her stall him on the proposal, but it seemed her reprieve was over.

“I have. I—” She broke off, rubbing the watch, stalling for time. “It’s the family anniversary celebration today. Do you remember it?”

Peter gave a low, mocking laugh. “How could I forget? How is your family these days? Still making sure the local tarot card readers are fully employed?” His smile blazed with superiority. “Has your crazy aunt had any more dreams prophesying the Royals in the Super Bowl?”

“World Series.”

They’d always rolled their eyes at her family’s antics together, the two of them sharing a laugh about it, above the silliness of love and superstition, but now she wanted to smack him for saying exactly what she’d always said. Peter didn’t understand her family. He didn’t have the right to look down on them.

“We should elope,” Peter continued, turning back to the burner. “None of your family there to make you crazy. A quick weekend in Niagara Falls—knock out the wedding and the honeymoon.” He sent her an understanding smile. “I won’t keep you away from your lab for longer than that.”

That was what she wanted, wasn’t it? Efficiency. A man who understood her priorities. So why was it so hard to just say yes?

Her cell phone rang, releasing a tidal wave of relief into her system that she had an excuse to put off answering Peter. She glanced at the caller ID.

“It’s Gina. I’d better take it,” she said to Peter, though at the moment she would have taken a call from a telemarketer and been grateful. She beat a retreat into the living room. Sliding her thumb across the screen, she lifted it to her ear. “Hey, Gina. What’s up?”

“A miracle has occurred,” her little sister announced with her usual flair for the dramatic.

“Don’t tell me. Let me guess. Marley spoke and her first words were: I love Auntie Mia.”

“Better. Mama and Teresa are speaking again.”

Mia felt a flash of guilt that she’d temporarily forgotten her sister’s troubles, chased by surprise that her dramatic family had resolved a drama without her interference. “How?”

“Apparently—hold onto your test tubes—Daddy intervened. He told Mama she was going to miss out on a relationship with her next grandbaby if she didn’t get her head out of her ass and stop punishing Teresa for her choice.”

Mia’s hand closed around the watch against her chest, squeezing it tight. “When did this…?”

“Just last night. Mama and Daddy and Teresa and Martin hugged it out and now Mama is determined to help Teresa decorate the baby’s room so everything is ready for her when they bring her home.”

“Her? They know the gender already?”

“Their adoption liaison contacted them this morning. Baby Girl Lee is about to become Baby Girl Amata. Teresa says she doesn’t want to get her hopes up, but she has a good feeling that this time it’s gonna stick.”

Mia couldn’t find the words. It was all coming together. She’d put on the watch and everything worked out for her family. Like magic. Could she really deny that Peter’s arrival was meant to be now?

Gina misinterpreted Mia’s silence. “Hey, I’m sure she would have called you and told you herself, but they’ve got a million things to do, getting ready for the baby. She said she left a message on your office line. I tried that one first too—”

“Do you want bacon, love?” Peter’s voice carried easily from the kitchen.

Mia half covered the mouthpiece of her phone. “No, thanks.”

“Is that Chase?” Gina giggled. “I should have guessed you had company when you weren’t at your office on a Saturday morning. Just don’t get so caught up in him that you’re late to the party today. You two are among the guests of honor this year.”

“Actually…” Mia swallowed around a sudden lump in her throat. “Peter’s back in town.”

The silence was deafening as Gina processed that revelation. “Peter…”

“He’s been offered a position at a university near here and, ah, he crashed on my couch while he considers…” Mia trailed off and the next words popped out of her mouth uninvited. “He proposed.”

“Oh shit. I mean that’s—ah—wow—” Gina coughed. “What about Chase?”

“You can’t be surprised. Chase and I are hardly compatible. How could any man understand that my professional ambition is the driving force of my life if all he cares about is the next wave?” That was unfair. She knew he was more than that. Better than that. But his departure had stung. Maybe now she was turning into that mopey heartbroken wreck she’d expected to be last night. She’d thought he would come back…

“Just because Chase isn’t a nerd, doesn’t mean he’s not perfect for you,” Gina protested. “Honey, you should see how you are when you’re with him. You’re
alive
. How can you walk away from th—”

“Chase left, okay?” Mia fingered the watch, rubbing it like a genie might pop out and start granting her wishes. “He isn’t in the picture anymore.”

“Oh Mia, what—”

“I don’t want to talk about it right now, Gina. I’ve got…breakfast. See you later?”

Gina grudgingly agreed to let the subject drop and hung up after a reminder not to be late to the anniversary celebration at noon—though there was much less enthusiasm in her sister’s voice at the prospect that Mia might be arriving with her fellow professor on her arm.

Mia hovered in the living room, not ready to go back into the kitchen and face Peter. That was a bad sign, wasn’t it? That she didn’t want to see him because he wanted her to marry him?

“Mia? How about some pancakes, love? Shall I whip some up?”

She looked longingly at the front door, wondering how Peter would react if she ran out of it. He’d probably just wait for her to get back. Patient. Logical. Unperturbed.

She stroked the watch, the gold warming with her touch. Its magic was working. And making her miserable. But misery was fleeting. In the long run she’d be grateful she married Peter. When she and her offspring became the first mother-daughter team to be awarded the Nobel Prize, she’d thank Chase for leaving the path to her best future open.

She pivoted on her heel, chin up, decision made. She had to be smart, true to herself. She would marry Peter. It was the logical choice.

The doorbell rang and her stupid, hopeful heart skipped a beat. Occam yipped from the kitchen and the sound of his claws scrabbling against the hardwood preceded his mad dash toward the front door.

Mia held her breath. It wasn’t necessarily
him
. Girl Scouts. It was probably Girl Scouts. They were always hawking their cookies this time of year, weren’t they? She scooped up Occam so he wouldn’t attack the ankles of any unsuspecting cookie-hawkers. She shifted his soft, squirmy weight against her hip and opened the door.

Chase Hunter stood on her doorstep, the morning sunlight painting him like a golden surf god—and emphasizing all the ways they were incompatible. He was gorgeous, dynamic,
distracting
…and her heart stuttered to a stop on the hope that he was back to stay.