The Courage To Love (Love On The North Shore) (8 page)

“You want to hold the stick like this,” Sean said grabbing her attention. His left hand rested on the pool table while his right held the wider end of the stick. “Then line everything up.” Sean demonstrated by hitting the white cue ball. It instantly broke apart the neat triangle in the center of the table, causing a purple striped ball to roll into a corner pocket. “Give it a try.”

That looked easy. Mia positioned the stick, pulled back her arm, and managed to send the cue ball up into the air before it landed on the felt top with a thud. “What the heck? Why did it do that?”

“You’re hold on the stick is wrong and you made contact with the cue ball at the wrong angle.” He came around from the other side and stepped behind her. “Put you left hand more like this.”

His hand covered hers as he repositioned it higher on the pool stick. The calluses on his hands were rough against her skin. His warm breath brushed against her cheek, driving home just how close Sean stood next to her.

“And your right hand needs to be lower.” He placed his hand over hers.

Mia took a step back toward him as he moved her hand down. His strong solid body pressed against her back and the memory of him earlier, drenched to the bone, his T-shirt glued to him, formed in her mind and heat collected in belly.

“Pool is all about geometry,” he explained in his no nonsense tone.

Her eyes followed his hands as he guided the pool stick for her, and his words fell into the background as the desire to kiss him engulfed her.

“Once you line up the shot, make sure you keep the movements smooth and controlled,” he said, helping her finish the shot. On the table, the cue ball struck a striped yellow ball that rolled into a side pocket.

Sean began to move his hand, but Mia grabbed it and spun around to face him before she thought better of it.

“Do you want—” Sean began, meeting her gaze.

Mia leaned closer cutting off the rest of the sentence with a kiss. He remained rigid against her even when she released his hand so she could circle her arms around his neck. She tugged on his bottom lip with her teeth, frustrated when he made no move to intensify the kiss. The only response she got was a set of hands on her hips. While his reaction should have discouraged Mia, it had the opposite effect on her. Men always responded to her and she planned to get Sean to as well.

Pressing her body against his until no space remained, she smiled to herself when she felt his breathing change. Then she pulled her mouth away and switched her attention to his ear. In response Sean groaned, dug his fingers into her waist and then pushed her away from him.

Mia’s eyes popped open. “What’s the matter?”

Sean studied her, his eyes a deeper shade of green now. “You’re a guest. That shouldn’t have happened.”

“Why?” She took a step closer again and laid a hand on his cheek, not far from the bruise he’d earned at the block party.

Reaching up he pulled her hand away, but he held onto it. “It’s unprofessional and bad for business.”

With a laugh she took another step closer. “It’s only bad for business if you kiss everyone who stays here. I don’t see anyone else around.” She saw the indecision in his eyes, and by the way he kept looking at her lips, she knew he wanted to kiss her again. “I promise not to tell anyone about this either,” she said, her voice low and seductive. She kissed him again before he could argue.

Unlike the first kiss, Sean didn’t hold anything back this time. He took control of the kiss, his tongue slipping between her lips as his hands dug into her hair.

“Sean, I need your help. The pipes under the sink are leaking.” Maureen’s voice, along with the sound of footsteps on the basement stairs, reached through the desire filling her brain.

Sean’s hands paused in her hair and he kissed her one more time before pulling away. “Be right up, Ma.” He dropped his hands to her shoulders.

The footsteps stopped. “Thank you,” Maureen called down.

Sean’s chest rose and fell against her as he took a deep breath, the effort to regain his composure evident.

“Are you busy tomorrow night?” Mia asked. “I still want to take one of those ghost tours in Salem.”

Sean didn’t answer, so she took a step away to look at his face. His eyes were locked on the far wall and his lips were pressed together tightly. “What do you say?”

“Sure. I need to stick around here until five o’clock, but after that is fine.”

“Great. I’ll make dinner reservations for around six. Is there any type of food you don’t like?” Sean struck her as a meat and potatoes kind of guy, but appearances could be deceiving.

His hands dropped from her shoulders. “I’ll eat anything but sushi. Pick someplace you’ll enjoy.”

She’d never acquired a taste for sushi either, despite her younger sister, Angelina’s, best efforts at broadening her palate.

“Feel free to stay down here and practice if you want. I don’t know how long this will take.”

Mia picked up the pool stick again. “Thanks, I think I will.”

With nothing more than a nod, he walked away. When she heard the basement door close, she took another sip from her beer, then attempted to line up a shot. Careful to follow Sean’s instructions, she drew the stick back and made contact with the white cue ball. Unlike her first attempt, the ball stayed on the table and rolled a few inches before knocking into a solid orange ball.

Not perfect, but better. Determined to at least get one ball in a pocket on her own, she walked to the other side of the table and tried again. After two more tries the solid red ball dropped into the left side pocket. With one enemy down, she turned her sights on the solid orange one again.

Chapter 5

“Our dinner reservations are all set for six o’clock at The Scarlet Letter and the ghost tour starts at eight,” Mia said from the doorway.

Surprised by her voice, Sean turned away from the woodwork he’d started to cover with painter’s tape. He’d already moved all the small pieces of furniture out of the room and covered the large antique bureau and wardrobe with drop cloths. He needed to get the first coat of paint on today. Already his project was behind schedule. The Emerson room was the only guest room he hadn’t yet painted. He’d finished all the others that winter, and he’d planned to paint this one the week before, but thanks to the complications in his mother’s bathroom all his projects were behind schedule. Tomorrow he’d get the second coat of paint on the walls. The room was reserved for that weekend so it had to be back in order before then.

Mia walked into the room and stopped near him. “Does that work for you?”

Today she wore a pair of faded jeans that melded to her body as if they’d been made just for her and a cotton candy blue T-shirt with a deep V-neck. At the sight of her his pulse quickened as the head below his belt came to life, and he took a step forward as he contemplated how wise it would be to pick up where their kiss the night before had left off. The door was wide open and anyone could walk by. At the same time, it was early afternoon and more than likely most of the guests were out.

In the end, he reached out and brushed her cheek with his fingers lingering at the corner of her mouth. “Should be fine.”

Her lips curved upward to meet his fingers in a real smile, much like the one she’d given him at the block party. “Good. You look busy so I’ll see you later,” she said, her voice hinting at what may happen later that night.

Before he answered, she turned and walked out, leaving him to watch her. With a shake of his head, he went back to the window. Once he had all the trim around the windows covered, he pried open the can on the floor and stirred the paint inside. For the first time his mother had stayed away from the pale colors she preferred and picked a rich burgundy for the walls.

As he rolled the paint onto the wall, his mind wandered. Unlike some of the other jobs he did around The Victorian Rose, painting didn’t require much brainpower. And while he should be concentrating on his meeting with Phil, the contractor who inspected the old Victorian next door that he wanted to buy, his mind kept going back to Mia. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t physically attracted to her. The woman was a perfect ten and after just talking to her his body was hard and aching for release. And while half the men in the world would hand over their life savings for the opportunity before him, doing anything other than admiring her from a distance crossed the line in his mind. He strived to maintain a professional atmosphere at The Victorian Rose even more so now than ever before. His mom’s as well as his own entire livelihood depended on its success. He couldn’t let his personal wants and desires jeopardize all their hard work. And that very thing might happen if somehow the media got wind that Mia Troy had even a brief fling with him.

He’d seen firsthand the spin the media could put on things when his sister first met her husband. Who knew what kind of obscene story they might invent if it ever came out that he’d slept with Mia while she stayed with them? Guests might decide The Victorian Rose was not the type of establishment they wanted to visit. Then all their hard work would have been for nothing.

He dipped the roller into the paint again. Yep, the smart thing would be to cancel his night out with Mia and then avoid this celebrity guest for the remainder of her stay. The work in his bathroom alone could fill any of his free time with no problem. While the physical labor would not take care of the sexual frustration he’d felt ever sense watching Mia dance at the block party, it would almost guarantee he wouldn’t see her. “You’re not going to cancel and you know it,” Sean said as he applied the roller to the wall. He was a man, not a saint.

It wasn’t only the physical attraction that pulled him toward her either. Since her first night here she’d proven to be a kind and compassionate person. The night before, she’d followed him downstairs after the scene with his father, knowing he was in foul mood, but rather than complain that he canceled their plans, she’d offered to listen. Other than perhaps his sister, he didn’t know anyone who would have done that for him. And he’d liked it. And she seemed to like him.

The room isn’t going to paint itself. Get back to work. Sean shut out his thoughts of Mia and applied the paint to the wall. The dark burgundy stood in stark contrast to the pale cream on the walls. Oddly, the two colors side-by-side brought back memories of his father’s pride and joy: a white 1973 Mustang with a red leather interior. During the winter months his father had kept the car hidden away in the garage, but once the warm weather arrived, he’d drive it every weekend. As a kid Sean had looked forward to the day he could drive the car, but before that happened, his father just up and sold it. He’d never said why, but Sean had always wondered.

Thoughts of his father’s old car immediately brought back thoughts of his unexpected visit the night before. Much like then, anger flared to life and the overpowering urge to hit something came back. Okay, not just anything but Seamus O’Brien’s face. If it had not been for Mia’s calming presence, he would’ve done just that last night. While he hated that Mia, a guest, had witnessed the exchange, he was glad it had been her and not his mother. Who knew what kind of reaction she would’ve had?

He moved farther down the wall. What the hell could the asshole want? Sean had made it clear in his email that he wanted nothing to do with him, and he figured his mother felt the same way. After the divorce she never spoke his name, and that had not changed over the years. Even when his Uncle Rory appeared in town a few years earlier, she didn’t say anything. Sean liked to think a sudden appearance by his father wouldn’t bother his mother after all this time, but he just didn’t know. His father’s departure and the divorce had changed his mother so much. Only in the past few years had he started to see more and more glimpses of the mom he remembered. She no longer worried over every little thing like she had right after divorce. She spent more time with her friends and overall seemed happy again. Heaven help his father if he somehow changed all that for his mother.

“I really like how the color looks,” Maureen said, as she stepped inside the room. “I was afraid it would be too dark, but it looks good.”

He paused with the roller halfway up the wall. “It’ll need another coat tomorrow, but it shouldn’t be much different than it is now.” He brought the roller down the wall. “Did you need me?”

During the day his mother left him to his work unless she needed help. Over the years they’d developed a good working relationship. She took care of food preparation and regular interaction with guests while he took care of maintenance and supply needs.

“Phil Larson is on the phone. He said he tried your cell but didn’t get an answer.”

Sean reached into his back pocket where he kept his cell phone only to find it empty. “Thanks I’ll be right down.”

***

With his graying beard and beer belly, Phil Larson resembled a young Santa Claus. Maybe that was why for the past several years he’d dressed up in the red suit and handed out gifts to the children on the town common. It was a tradition that had been going on since Sean was a kid, though he figured Phil had not always been the man in the red suit. At one time Phil had been a fit and active man. He’d worked as the assistant high school football coach the whole time Sean had played and for a few years afterward. He only stopped coaching and started to gain weight after a car accident had broken both legs and he’d ended up bedridden for several months.