Her Sexiest Mistake (22 page)

Unbelievably touched, Mia closed her eyes.

“You’re passionate, smart, sharp as hell, and damn funny when you want to be. You’d give a perfect stranger a room in your home, even when you don’t open yourself easily. Yes,” he said when she began to shake her head in denial. “You’d give a friend your entire savings account.”

He knew about that? She’d kill Tess later.

“And yet you’d go to great lengths to hide what you think are your faults so that someone who means something to you won’t turn away. Goddamn, Mia, do you think I don’t know your faults?”

“Well—”

“You’re bullheaded, opinionated, and you swear like a sailor.”

She squirmed, braced for more, but he shook his head and murmured, “I don’t give a shit about any of that. I love you anyway.”

The words, uttered with frustration, with anger and heat, with utter bare-soul honesty, made her gasp.

“Yeah,” he growled. “And I know that thrills the hell out of you,”

She clutched at him, rain falling on her face, his hands in her shorts, still stroking her. “Kevin…I don’t know what you want from me.”

“You.
You,
Mia, without me pushing, goading, prodding to find that you beneath your protective layer. Let me in, goddamnit.”

“In?” she cried, overwhelmed by the emotion she’d been holding at bay since…since forever. “No one wants in. They want me to be strong, be in charge, they want me to be a team player. But I’m not! Do you hear me? I’m not any of those things really, I’m just me. Plain Mia Appleby, who can put a spin on anything, including a damn fine façade. Don’t you get it? I don’t know
how
to let you in.” She sank her fingers into his hair and tightened her grip, nose-to-nose with him, furious, upset, and far too close to tears. “I’m giving you all I can, but it’s not enough! I should have never brought you cookies that first night—”

“Damn right you shouldn’t have,” he growled, hands clasped on her bottom to hold her in place. “Or come knocking on my door the next night, and the one after that, looking like sin personified, promising all sorts of things with those gorgeous, wounded eyes, things that had nothing to do with what we give each other in the deep, dark of the night.”

The skies let loose then, dumping buckets down on them. It didn’t matter; Mia for one was so hot that the rain felt good on her steaming skin. “I want to be enough for you,” she whispered. “Just as I am.” She arched up, gliding the wettest part of her over the hardest part of him. “
Please,
Kevin. Let me be enough.”

He swore at that, and in the next instant slammed his mouth over hers as he tugged down her shorts and panties, shoved his shorts to his thighs, then lifted her back up to wrap her legs around him. “Hold on to me then,” he demanded. “Damn it, hold on.”

“I am.” She hung there, suspended by time, by his body, by the storm, lost in his possession, in his ragged breathing and the rain pummeling her heated flesh, in the feel of his muscled body, the scrape of his beard, the scent of him, and the wet trees and earth all around.

He slid into her with one powerful thrust, making her cry out. She had no idea how it was always like this between them, a match to dry timber, a moth to flame, every single time. She would die if she didn’t have it.
Him.
No one but him. “Kevin…”

A low, rough, gravely sound of tortured pleasure escaped him, and with the rain pelting down on them, he surged into her, again and again, until with a gasping sob she exploded. She was still in the throes when he followed her over, her name on his lips.

Still quivering, she closed her eyes and just held on, loving the way he had his face plastered to her neck, panting for breath, his arms crisscrossed against her back, protecting her from the bark of the tree, bowed over her body so that the majority of the rain fell on him instead of her.

Even when frustrated, hurt, and furious, he was the best man she’d ever known, and from nowhere the emotions reared up and battered her. She tightened her arms on him, preventing him from stepping free, but he didn’t even try. He stayed still with her a long moment, his muscles still quaking, until finally he lifted his head. His eyes were dark and shadowed. “You okay?”

She closed her eyes and pulled his face close, touching her forehead to his. “Yes,” she whispered.

“Sure? It was kind of rough.” He eased her shaky legs down until her feet touched the ground, and helped her right her clothes. “I’m sorry.”

She couldn’t speak past the lump the size of a regulation basketball in her throat, so she just shook her head. She didn’t want him to be sorry, she wanted—

God.
What she wanted.

They walked back in the pouring rain, their fingers entwined. Outside his house, he brought her fingers up to his mouth. “I have to go to work.”

And she did not. The wince came out of her before she could stop herself. He squeezed her fingers. “Mia—”

“I’m a big girl, I can handle it,” she said. “Besides, I have tons of stuff lined up—” She broke off, looked away, and then back into his eyes. “No, that was an embellishment. I have nothing. No leads, no interviews, nothing. I am unemployed. Completely. All I have is a part of a cookie dough company that looks good in theory but has yet to prove itself. How’s that for letting you in to see the real me?”

His smile was slow, and no less sexy for the sympathy in his eyes. “A damn good start. I was getting tired of being a piece of flypaper for the obnoxiously bullheaded and obstinate.”

She felt her own reluctant smile. “Obnoxiously bullheaded?”

“Hey, if the shoe fits…”

She laughed, and, God, that felt good.

“So what now, Mia?”

“I don’t know.”

He looked at her for a long moment. “Let me just lay it out there for you. I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything or anyone else in my whole life.”

Once again the breath backed up in her throat.

“You either feel that way back, or you don’t.”

Since she couldn’t breathe, she just stood there. Brilliant.

“What’s the worst that could happen, Mia, if you go for it?”

“I could screw it all up. I could—”

“Snore?” he asked ironically. “Have stinky feet? Be bad in bed?”

“This is not funny.”

“No,” he agreed, his smile gone. “It’s not. But if we’re going to just do this, I want all of it.”

“Define ‘all.’”

He just looked at her, and she swallowed. “You mean—” She swallowed again. “The whole white lace dress, tacky white tiered cake, complete with a lease on a double-wide?”

“I’m not trying to freak you out, I’m just telling you how I feel.”

“Kevin.”

Something in her face must have given him her answer, and he stared down at his feet. Nodded. “Yeah.” He looked at her then. “Good-bye, Mia.”

A sob welled up and she bit it back. If this was really how he felt, it was the end.

The end.

Oh, my God.
Through blurry eyes she watched him walk away, a profound sorrow working its way through her as she realized she’d never see him smile at her, never feel the touch of his kiss, hear the timbre of his voice all directed at her in that special way he had of making her feel like the only woman on the planet.

Not ever again.

She waited until he was gone to sink to the ground, curl up in a ball, and watch the rain fall.

Alone.

W
hen Mia got home, she was surprised to find the world still spinning. The refrigerator hummed, music emitted from Hope’s alarm that she was ignoring…Yep, everything looked and sounded completely normal. Chilled, she took a long shower. By the time she got out, she was warm and dry again. She surveyed her closet. Prada or…Target?

Target. Sweats and bunny slippers, to be precise. Dressed, she headed for the kitchen and any alcohol. Only problem, it was still morning. Settling for caffeine, she dumped three teaspoons of sugar into the coffee to add a desperately needed sugar rush. Then she glanced at a box of small chocolate donuts on the counter. Hope’s. Screw watching calories, this was a mental-health emergency. She ate one, then five more.

At seven thirty, Hope staggered into the kitchen, went straight to the refrigerator, and pulled out the OJ container. She shook it and drank straight from the jug. “I’m going to finish it,” she said when Mia just looked on.

“Fine.”

Hope eyed her more closely. “You look like crapola. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Gee, unless you count the fact my life is in the toilet. “Why?”

“Are you wearing…” Hope squinted in disbelief. “The
Target
clothes?”

That the girl recognized the difference between designer versus plain brand gave her a proud-aunt moment.

“Are you?” Hope pressed.

“Tell anyone and die.”

Hope laughed.

“Hey, I’m not kidding. And just so you know, I wasn’t always a clothes snob.”

“You know it sounds like English coming out of your mouth, but I just can’t quite make it out,” Hope told her.

“Great. A comedienne.”

Hope set down the juice. “Okay, what’s wrong really? Tell me the truth, because you’re not harping on my clothes or makeup, you’re not harping on what I’m not eating—”

“Does this train of thought have a caboose?”

“What did you do, call my mom and get me booked on a bus or something?”

Ah, shit.
Sugar. She needed to find a way to tell Hope her mom wanted her back. “No. No bus riding.”

Hope put the dishes from the sink into the dishwasher. Got to hand it to the kid; she knew how to pick up after herself. She’d probably been doing it for years. Mia took another long look into Hope’s face and felt a squeeze on her heart. There were purple smudges beneath her eyes that had nothing to do with her baffling choice of makeup. And her face seemed drawn. “Clearly, I’m not the only one in a pathetic mood,” Mia said.

Hope looked up in surprise. Lifted a shoulder.

Oh, boy. A fishing expedition in the expanse of a teenage mind. “So…Cole seems nice.”

Bingo. Hope plopped into the chair across from Mia. “Yeah. But just a few days ago I was gaga over Adam. I’m not sure how I’m supposed to trust my feelings now. It seems so…comforting.” She looked at Mia. “Any maternal urges coming to you? Any advice at all?”

“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not so good with feelings in general, so I’m probably not one to ask.”

“You’re with Kevin. You have feelings for him.”

“Well, no to the first, but yes on the second.”

Hope’s mouth trembled open. “I thought he loved you.”

“Maybe love isn’t always enough.”

Hope looked vastly disappointed by that, but Mia told herself she was young, she’d learn.

“I think what I feel for Cole is more…
real
than what I felt for Adam. Does that make sense?”

Mia thought of Kevin and compared him to every guy she’d ever been with. There was no comparison. “Perfect sense.”

“He kissed me.”

Mia cut her eyes to Hope.

“Don’t worry. No sex.”

Mia nodded and ate another donut.

“You know, my mom would be spouting stuff like, ‘Marry a trucker, they have good insurance.’ Nothing I’d want to hear. You don’t do that. If you don’t know something, you don’t pretend to. You just tell it to me like it is.”

“I guess I wish I’d had someone do that for me when I was your age.”

“Were you scared? When you left?”

“Terrified. Still am.”
Now that I’m back to square one.

“You never seem scared. You always seem like you know exactly what you’re doing.”

Mia laughed. “Well, trust me, I don’t. I’m all screwed up. I lost my job yesterday.”

Hope’s eyes widened. “Are you going to be out on the street?”

Mia’s smile faded. She’d nearly forgotten what it was like to be sixteen and living seriously day to day. In Hope’s world, no job meant no food and a manager banging on the door demanding rent, or else. “We’re going to be okay for a while.”

“You said we.”

“So I did.”

Hope smiled, but it faded. “How long is a while?”

“Long enough that you don’t need to worry about it. Longer if Tess and I make Cookie Madness work.”

“I can work for Tess. I can even quit the science class and work full-time.”

“No. No way. You’re staying in school. Wherever that might be.”

Hope blinked. “What does that mean?”

Mia sighed. “It means your momma wants you back.”

Hope was quiet a moment. “And what do you want?”

“I want what’s best for you.”

“Oh.” Hope looked down at her clasped fingers. “I guess I actually miss her sometimes. You know, a little.”

A knife to the chest. “That’s good.” Trying not to lose it right there, Mia got up and grabbed her keys. “Time for school.”

They were in the car before Hope spoke again. “I want to be just like you when I get to be as old as you are. What is that, forty?”

“Do you want to see your next birthday?”

Hope actually smiled. “Twenty-five?”

“See,
now
you’re talking.” So she’d turned the big three-oh last year. She could handle that. Yeah, her life sucked at the moment, but she could handle that, too.

For a long moment after Hope left the car, Mia sat there absorbing the morning sun. Hope wanted to be like her.

God help the both of them.

That afternoon Hope sat on a swing in the park. The early-evening sun beat down on her head as she idly kicked her foot in the sand, rocking back and forth, eyeing the lazy blue sky. At home she’d have been lying on her bed, wondering why she had no friends, why no one wanted to get to know her.

It should have disturbed her that she was still alone, but somehow it didn’t. She didn’t feel sick and sad all the time, she didn’t feel like her chest was too tight. She didn’t feel like she wanted to hurt something.

And—and this was the biggee—she didn’t feel like wearing black all the time. For one thing, it was freaking hot. And for another, she liked Mia’s clothes.

She liked it here.

She hadn’t talked to her mother yet. Sugar had needed a break, which Hope understood, because she’d needed the break, too. But now that break was over.

Still, it would have been nice to hear from her momma, even once, to know she’d been missed, worried about. Even though that wasn’t really her way. Hope would have bet that wasn’t Mia’s way, either, but Mia always wanted to know where Hope was and when she was coming back. At first, Hope had thought it was because Mia needed a break, too, but now she knew differently.

Mia worried about her.

And though that knowledge should have felt weird, should have been suffocating, it wasn’t.

She heard the footsteps and knew it was Cole. He’d said he’d come hang out. He always did what he said he was going to, and the sheer comfort in that warmed her from the inside out. Lifting her head, she watched him walk toward her. He wore baggy cargo pants, a Zeppelin T-shirt, and a tight expression that said his mother had been yelling at him again.

But then his gaze caught hers and the shadows in his eyes went away. He smiled.

She smiled back.

“You look really pretty when you do that,” he said.

She felt the heat settle in her cheeks. “You don’t have to say stuff like that.”

“I know.” Moving behind her, he gave her a push.

Laughing as the swing began to move, she closed her eyes and let the warm wind blow over her face. It felt so good. He pushed her for a few minutes, then sat on the swing next to her.

“Adam broke up with Amber,” he said.

She opened her eyes and caught the worry in his. “I don’t care about Adam,” she said.

He didn’t say anything.

“I don’t,” she repeated, wanting him to believe her. “I don’t care about any of them.”

“What do you care about?”

“My aunt Mia. Kevin, and Tess, and Mike. I care about school. About…”

“Yeah?”

“You,” she whispered, holding on to his swing when he would have backed up. “Cole, I mean it.”

He looked like he desperately wanted to believe her but didn’t.

“Adam was stupid,” she said. “Being with him was
me
being stupid. I’m done with that. And I’m done with trying to hurt people to get attention. I just want to be.” She leaned in close, her heart in her throat. “And I just want to be…with you.”

He just stared at her as if she was speaking a foreign language, and it gave her the courage to admit the rest. “Cole, I’ve never…” With a grimace, she looked down at her toes. “I’ve never really felt…excited by a guy. I mean, I pretended to, but it’s always pretty much been an act.” Never having made the first move before, she wasn’t sure how to make it count, but she lifted her head and stared into his eyes, then shifted even closer, their mouths a breath apart. “But when I’m with you, it feels different.”

He stared at her, not moving a muscle. “Different like I’m-going-to-puke different, or different good?”

“The truth?” She shook her head and stared at his mouth. “I’m not sure yet. I want to find out, though. I have to find out. But you also need to know…I have to go back to Tennessee.”

“When?”

“Soon, probably.”

He paused. “That’s going to suck.”

“Yeah. Big-time.” Her heart was going to barrel right out of her ribs, but she had to do this, wanted to do this. “Cole.”

He was still as stone, not even breathing, as far as she could tell, his fingers white-knuckled on the steel line. Then his Adam’s apple bounced once, hard.

For some reason, that little motion of vulnerability boosted the fledgling courage she felt inside and she touched his mouth with hers.

He groaned, a sound that did things to her belly and made her legs feel rubbery, all good stuff, so she kept her mouth on his.

He made the sound again, and then slid his arms around her. His nose bumped hers, hard, and she pulled back.

“Sorry,” he whispered.

She clutched at his shirt and stared at him. “No, it was good. I don’t feel like throwing up,” she said, her voice all strange and breathy. “I feel like…
wow.
”

He let out a long breath. “Yeah.
Wow.
”

She bit her lip and looked at his mouth again, a little surprised to find her body sort of quivery, wanting more. “I want to say one more thing about me. And Adam.”

Some of his smile faded. “You don’t have to. It’s okay.”

“I didn’t—”

“None of my business—”

“—have sex. I’ve never—” She managed to look him in the eyes. “—had sex. I just wanted you to know.”

He looked at her. Then smiled.

“What’s so funny?”

“I haven’t either.”

Was it possible to actually die of happiness? Hope thought maybe it was.

Over the next few days, Kevin managed to teach without losing it, managed to avoid Mike’s probing, thoughtful gaze whenever possible, but he hadn’t managed to avoid Hope. He just couldn’t do it to her, so when she came up to him at lunch and whispered, “I know,” squeezing his hand, he could hardly speak.

But he opened his desk drawer and pulled out her car keys.

Hope stared at them. “You mean—”

“Finished.” He’d stayed up late putting in the new alternator and water pump for something to do other than obsess. “All yours.”

Her smile was worth every moment. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“I don’t know what your rules are, so check with Mia before you drive anywhere.”

“I will.”

“And no more driving across the country until you’re thirty.”

“I won’t.” She hugged the keys to her chest. “You are the best man on the planet.”

He nodded, but he didn’t feel like the best man on the planet. He felt like the emptiest man on the planet.

Basketball had always been Kevin’s drug of choice, and he needed to self-medicate, bad. Luckily, after work he had a basketball game scheduled at the court near his house. He headed toward the gate with more than enough pent-up aggression, and hoped the guys he was playing this week could handle it.

They could. The other team consisted of all twenty-and thirty-year-olds, and by the time the game was over, Mike bled from his lip and one knee and Kevin thought maybe he’d cracked a rib or two. Plus, he could hardly put weight on his ankle, which he’d twisted twice in his college days and apparently reinjured today in one of his fan-fucking-tastic layups, if he said so himself.

You’re getting old,
Mike signed when Kevin winced as they walked/limped/whimpered off the court.

Kevin straightened and ignored the screaming in his ribs.
Speak for yourself.

I might be bleeding, and possibly getting old, but at least I’m heading for a woman who’s going to feed me and then tuck me into bed, clucking over my injuries, kissing me alllllll better.
He waggled his eyebrows as he backed away from Kevin, jingling his keys.

Who?

Tess.

I thought she dumped you.

Mike’s smile faded.
She did. I’m slowly working my way back into favor.

And he would, too. Mike was the most charming, funny, easy-to-love guy he’d ever met.
Let her go,
Kevin signed.
Pick someone else.

Mike shook his head.
There’s not going to be anyone else. Ever. And I know that’s a helluva long time, but that’s how I feel.
Mike looked down at his battered athletic shoes, then back up.
I’m going to prove myself to her. And you. I realize it might take a while, but I’m okay with that.