“Or his auntie,” Ty added.
“His or her. Eventually we’ll have a few of each.”
“A few?” Ty’s eyes grew big and round.
“We’ll wait to see how the first one goes.”
“Hey.” Mia whistled and waved her hands in the air. “This is supposed to be about me, remember?”
Lily’s total support of her new ambition meant a lot to her. Now she had to wait to hear Ty’s criticism.
“As long as you don’t name the crab Ty, I think it’s a great idea.”
“You do?” His easy acceptance had shocked her. “You’re not going to tell me it’s an unrealistic career? That I can’t make a living off writing children’s books?”
“You never know unless you try.”
“Thanks.” She pushed herself up from the sofa and hugged her brother.
“You really thought I was going to make fun of you for this?” She looked away, and Ty continued. “I can be an asshole, but I’m not that much of an asshole, am I?”
Mia lifted a brow and looked at Lily, who bit her lip to contain her grin. “We love you, honey.” Lily joined them and kissed Ty on the cheek.
“So back to Thorne. He just jumped up and spewed out his childhood memories to help you brainstorm your book?”
“Sort of.” He hadn’t told her to keep his James Langlois identity a secret, and now Ty knew about it, but she didn’t need to reveal his undercover operation.
“What else are you keeping from me?” Ty’s big arms folded across his chest.
“I’m not at liberty to say. He was ... on assignment when we bumped into each other. I don’t think he meant for us to meet up, but then we sort of ... clicked, in a weird unclicking sort of way.”
“That makes no sense at all.”
“Sure it does.” Lily looped her arm through Ty’s. “I could say the same thing about us.”
“We clicked.”
She laughed. “We did not. I compared you to Meatball. You were both grumps, but I fell in love with you anyway.”
“And I’m out. You two go kiss or make another baby. I’m going to grab a shower before I have to be at the library.”
“I’ll see you at book club tomorrow night. You’re on food duty. Hope and I are eating for two, so make sure you bring extras.”
“As long as Jenna brings extra booze for me.”
MIA HADN’T SEEN THORNE all week. She’d contemplated stopping by the fishery or the casino, but she didn’t want to blow his cover. Besides, the way he’d reacted in the parking lot when he saw those guys freaked her out a little. A lot, actually. If he was involved in anything dangerous, she didn’t want to interfere. Or risk her safety.
Figuring she’d never see Lily’s sexy FBI agent again, she buried herself in her writing. Surprisingly, the words flowed from her fingertips, and before she knew it, she had a halfway decent story. Yesterday, she’d sent it to a critique partner she’d met through one of her online groups and was anxiously—if not nervously—waiting for her feedback.
The woman had been writing children’s books for twenty-five years and had two Newbury Medals under her belt. And by luck or fate or the goodness of God, she’d been in a super giving mood the day Mia posted her onslaught of questions about finding someone to read her work to give her feedback.
Waiting was not her strong suit, but she’d told Mia it would be a few days before she could get to it. In the meantime, Mia drew the scenes to match each page and ran through the story for the next book.
Last night at dinner, she told her parents about her dream of writing and publishing. It wasn’t as hard as she thought it would be. They were supportive, and her mother was overly enthusiastic.
“I can’t wait to schedule you as our guest author when your books come out!” Her mother had practically crawled across the dining room table to hug Mia.
“Easy, Mom. I’m about a zillion years from that happening.”
The rest of the dinner was nice with Lily gushing about Mia’s artwork and her mother making plans for the big book release.
Now, sitting in her bed with her drawings laid out around her, she let her mind wander to the man who irked her yet made her think about cozy nights in front of the fire.
She’d grown partial to the hazel-eyed dirty blond with the baseball cap, even though that wasn’t the real him.
The real Ryan was mysterious. Man of few words. Standoffish. She didn’t particularly care for him, yet that was the real man behind the mask.
It was a total Mission Impossible move, minus the music and Tom Cruise. Although, she much preferred Ryan’s dark eyes and dark hair to the actor’s. Even if she couldn’t see into the agent’s eyes as much as she could see into James’ hazel beauties.
They were one in the same, she reminded herself. Yet totally different. Jekyll and Hyde. Sure, the agent persona was more handsome and alluring than the blue-collar worker she’d met on the shore, but it was the blue-collar personality she much preferred.
She’d never been into suits and fancy cars. A guy who worked with his hands and got a little dirty was way more her type than a suit with a badge. Picking up one of her drawings, she studied the enlarged eye on the Madrid shrimp. He was goofy looking. It was either that or make him scary.
Save the scary stuff for book club; she wanted kids to think of her characters as friends. Which left her stumped with the second book in her marine life series. She’d need titles and even a series name. That could come later.
For now, she needed to plot out the next story. Using her drawings to help her muse, she moved them around in different orders, overlapping and watching how the creatures interacted with each other.
The sea otter with his flapper stuck in a plastic bag stuck out to her the most. “I think it’s gonna be your turn next, buddy.” She picked up the drawing and ran her finger across his long whiskers.
The otters at the aquarium were her favorite. Adorable and charismatic, they were too cute not to draw. Combining their loyalty to each other with the pollution in the seas, she hoped to center the second book around plastic waste.
Her muse now coming alive, she picked up her notepad from her nightstand and scribbled down her notes and the dialogue that came to her. The grin couldn’t be helped as she worked to write as fast as she could think.
When she had the outline done, she rubbed her hands together in excitement. It was eleven at night. Too late to call Lily or her parents. Even if she’d told the rest of her friends about her new plan to be a children’s author, she couldn’t call them this late anyway.
They were all tucked away in their beds with their husbands. The girls never made her feel left out because she was the only one without a boyfriend or husband, but it was times like these when she wished she had someone at her beck and call to share good news with.
“Nope. No pity parties.” Slipping her finger under the elastic around her wrist, she snapped it against her skin. “Ouch.”
The sting was needed as a reminder not to go down that alley anymore. Only five snaps today. Her best day yet. Since she came up with the idea to punish herself when she slipped down negative nelly lane, she’d been much happier, even if it was for stupid things.
Now, however, she really did want to share her ideas with someone. It wasn’t a pity party she was having; it was sadness at the hour.
Thorne would be up, she bet. He seemed like the type of man who never slept. James got a solid eight hours in while the FBI agent thrived on four hours and a vat of coffee every day. At least, that was how she played it out in her head.
Active imagination and all. Who knew that the agent Lily had told her about after the accident would be the one who inspired her stories. Both her children’s and the semi-dirty ones she had at night.
Needing a good night’s sleep, especially since she had an early day tomorrow working at the library, she piled up her drawings and tucked them inside her notebook, setting them on her nightstand.
She opened the dra
wer and tossed her pencils and erasers in when a white card caught her eye. Reaching for it, she remembered what it was.
Agent Thorne’s phone number. Ty gave it to her a few weeks after her surgery as a precaution. Just in case the accident wasn’t really from a geriatric man having a stroke but was connected to Lily’s ex.
Tapping the card against her palm, a wicked grin broke out across her face. What did she have to lose?
Settling back into her pillows, she lifted her cell phone and dialed the number.
“Thorne.”
“Or is it Langlois?”
Silence greeted her on the other end. Crap. What if someone was listening in? What if she blew his cover?
“I didn’t mean—” No, she couldn’t apologize because if the bad guys were listening in then they’d hear that as well.
“Mia.”
Good. A start. He didn’t use her code name.
Wait. She didn’t have a code name. Mia wasn’t the one undercover. Gah! She was no good at this game.
“Hi.” Way to be so middle school. She closed her eyes and rolled over, cupping her phone between her pillow and her ear.
“Hi,” he said back. There was no inflection in his voice. No tell if he was annoyed or happy to hear from her or missed her like crazy.
No, Thorne wouldn’t miss her. Thorne treated her like a gnat. James, however, liked to talk to her.
“I wrote a story tonight.” She gave him ample time to respond, to ask a question, to show interest in what she had to say. Dust settled on her nose while waiting, so she continued. “It’s about a sea otter whose flapper gets caught in a plastic bag.”
“Flipper.”
Good, he hadn’t hung up on her.
“Flipper, then.”
“Sea otters have dexterous forefeet with retractile claws.”
“Oh, stop. You know how it turns me on when you talk about big feet.” Even if he wasn’t having a good time, she could have one.
“Actually, their feet are quite small.”
“Hm. Interesting. What else can you tell me about the sea otter?” Not exactly phone sex, but if it got him talking...
“This is why you called?”
“Sort of.” She called to hear his voice, but she couldn’t exactly tell him that.
“Under each foreleg, the sea otter has a loose pouch of skin that extends across its chest.” His voice relaxed, and she picked up a hint of a smile behind his words, if that was possible.
“Every girl loves hearing about a loose pouch of skin while she’s curled up in bed,” she groaned purposefully.
“You’re in—” Ryan cleared his throat, and Mia bit back her giggle.
“Tell me more.” She added an extra throatiness to her voice.
The long silence before the loud sigh had her biting at her bottom lip in anticipation of what he’d say next. “They store food in their pouches, and often a rock that’s used to break open shellfish and clams.”
“That’s very practical of them. And very I am man. Hear me roar.”
“Male and female sea otters do that. And they usually live with their same sex. Not a lot of intermingling going on.”
“Except when they’re ready to get down and dirty.”
“Sure.”
Another long, drawn out pause. She was about to let him off the hook when he said, “Tell me about your story.”
And then, damn it, her heart did this really weird thumping in her chest like it wanted to come out and play.
Mia babbled away about the Mommy sea otter who lost her baby and had called on the seagulls and dolphins to help find him.
“What happened to incorporating the lesser known marine life?”
Well, well, well. He had been listening all along. “Change of plans. This story didn’t need the funky crazy. Sometimes a little bit of normal with a nice moral is all it takes to tell a good story.”
“I like it.”
“Thank you,” her voice soft and almost shy.
They didn’t hang up until after midnight, and she hoped he went to sleep dreaming about Mommy sea otter, and maybe a little bit of Mia.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Every ounce of training, every class, every drill he’d done told him this was a stupid idea. And if that wasn’t enough, he had a track record to prove what he was about to do was about as smart as the man bra.
Regardless, Ryan walked into Books by the Ocean. It seemed every store in town had one of those jingling bells above the door. When it rang, two women from behind the counter looked up at him.
“Welcome to Books by the Ocean. If you need any assistance please don’t hesitate to ask either of us. I’m Celeste, and this is my daughter Mia.”
Good. Her mother had no idea who he was. He gave them equal eye contact, not wanting to show any more of an interest in Mia than he did her mother. “I’m just browsing today.”
The phone rang, and Mia’s mother picked up. Ignoring Mia’s wide-eyed shock, he hightailed it down the nonfiction section, cursing himself for being such an idiot. This wasn’t the way he handled situations.
Granted, he wasn’t sure what the situation was, exactly. He wanted to see Mia, to congratulate her on her first draft, but meeting her anywhere in public would be too risky. To them both.
He could have called or sent a text. That would have been the safer route, but for the first time in ages he thought with his emotions instead of his head. The last time he did that he planned a double funeral.
Turning to leave, he bumped into Mia. No one should ever be able to sneak up on him. In his line of work, that could be the difference between life and death. The fact that she so easily surprised him was all the encouragement he needed to hightail it out of there.
He didn’t like the way she made his pulse race. He never got hot under the collar. Ever. Being near Mia, thinking about Mia, was a distraction he couldn’t afford.
“Can I help you find something, Agent Thorne?” The quirk of her eyebrow and lip told him she meant every word of the double innuendo.
Another thing he learned about Mia Parker in watching her for the past year and a half. Shy and coy was not her strong suit. When she wanted something, she went after it, and she never held back her words. Two things he admired about her, even if it did make him wary. Acting on impulse could get you killed. Or hurt. And his job was to protect.
Coming to the bookstore today was one hundred percent impulse.
“I—” Damn it. He meant to. He really meant to leave, but her wide hazel eyes and cupid mouth called him in like a beacon. Needing to break the spell of her lure, he straightened the collar of his shirt, wishing he wore a tie as another protective barrier from her spell, and peered over her head. “I found it.”
Not wanting to cause a scene or make it obvious they knew each other, he moved past her to another section of the store. Trailing his finger across the spines of the books, he stopped at one, had another bad idea, and pulled the book from the shelf.
Mia had disappeared from the aisle. Confirming for the thousandth time he wasn’t in his A-game. Good thing he wasn’t heading out to the casino for another two hours.
Taking the book with him, he weaved through the aisles looking for her, coming up empty. Awesome FBI agent he was.
Celeste took his book at the register and rang up the sale. “Being a coastal town, we have a lot of visitors coming in here looking at these types of books.”
Ryan handed her a few bills.
“Is this for you, or is it a gift?”
Dumb idea number forty-eight slipped out of his mouth. “A gift.”
“Would you like me to wrap it for you? It’s complimentary.”
“Sure. Thank you.”
Somehow he’d mustered up enough strength not to look around the bookstore for Mia before he left. Tucking the wrapped book under his arm, he kept his head held high on his way to his car.
With the case at the fishery closed, he still had mountains of paperwork to get through and a confere
nce call in an hour. Once he got through those tasks he could focus solely on Miller and Kaiser.
It pissed him off that he didn’t get a tail on the exchange at the train station. If he hadn’t been distracted, if he hadn’t been with Mia, if he had his head in the game...
He was lucky they weren’t spotted, or the outcome could have been different. It could have been just like in Virginia.
“Focus, Thorne.” He started up his Lexus and came close to peeling out of the parking lot. Dumb move forty-nine. Squawking tires was not the best to remain incognito. Neither was driving a Lexus around a town like Crystal Cove.
He chanced being spotted and having his cover blown. Fifteen minutes later, he pulled into his driveway and parked his car under the shade of a hemlock tree. The truck would need to be his mode of transportation until his job in Maine was done.
Hopefully it would be sooner rather than later. If he heard Mia’s voice again, or caught a glimpse of her eager eyes, he’d be well on his way to the top fifty dumbest moves ever.
Getting out of town and distancing himself was the only way he wouldn’t make the second biggest mistake of his life. Cutting the engine, he reached for his phone in the console and spotted the wrapped book on the passenger seat.
Not needing the complication, he left it there and slammed the car door behind him. Doing a quick inspection of the mulch and the window screens, he checked the perimeter of the camp and let himself in the deck door.
Hours later, when the business side of his job was done—for now—he changed into dress pants and a nice polo shirt and set out to work some information out of his informant.
MIA WIPED THE SWEAT from her eyes and guzzled down the rest of her water.
“Someone piss you off lately? You were crushing it today,” Jackie, her kickboxing instructor, laughed.
“I may have had a little built-up aggression.”
“You think? Anyway, nice job. See you next week.”
“Thanks.” Mia wiped down her chest and face with her towel and tossed it in her gym bag.
Something More (A Well Paired Novel) Page 9