Something More (A Well Paired Novel)

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Something More (A Well Paired Novel) Page 14

by Rice, Marianne


  Really, she should leave now and forget dinner. It wasn’t worth the emotional roller coaster.

  It’s just sex.

  There shouldn’t be an emotional roller coaster when it was just sex. They’d agreed to that twice now. Mia was the one breaking the rules by trying to make something more out of this than what it was.

  He’d made it clear this wasn’t about friendship or even a relationship.

  But he’d invited her to dinner. Conversation was a normal thing to have during dinner, the preparing and eating of.

  It was just dinner. People ate or they died.

  Damn. Since when did Mia become so ... girly? It was the negative influence of her five happily married friends who were turning her no-strings-sex attitude to something more.

  Not wanting to be that girl, she pushed herself up from the Adirondack chair and joined Ryan at the grill.

  “Need any help?”

  “No.” A beat then, “Thank you.”

  “Yyyyuuup.” She popped her lips at the end and clicked her tongue while watching him flip the chicken.

  “What are they?”

  “What are who?” Mia wouldn’t waste her time trying to decode Ryan’s limited vocabulary.

  “The names.”

  “Names?”

  Ryan set the tongs on the side of the grill and closed the cover. “The sea otters.”

  “I didn’t think you wanted to know.”

  “I didn’t think you wanted to tell me.”

  Mia squinted her confusion. “Why would you think that? I asked you if you wanted to know.”

  “No, you told me you named them.”

  “It’s implied.”

  “Implying gets you in trouble.”

  “Can you ever not be an agent? Can you just be human?”

  Hell. Did his face just fall? A sadness she’d never seen filled his eyes. He gave her a curt nod and went into the house.

  She wasn’t one to grovel, but she wasn’t a bitch either. Yanking the screen door open, she followed him inside.

  “Sorry. That was bitchy.”

  “Dinner is almost ready.”

  “I don’t get you.” She covered her face with her hands and then lifted her arms in the air. “One minute you’re so sweet and gentle and we’re having this great sex, and then you’re like a man of stone. It’s just sex, I know. I’m fine with that,” she lied. “But don’t make me like and hate you at the same time. I know you’re capable of being human. Our trip to Boston showed me that. But something happened to you or between us since then, and I don’t know what it is.”

  Ryan stirred the rice on the stove and took out a bowl of broccoli from the microwave as if she hadn’t even spoken a word.

  “What are the sea otters’ names?”

  So confused. She was so incredibly confused. He infuriated her, and he looked adorable at the same time, standing in the middle of his tiny kitchen holding a pot in one hand and a bowl in the other, asking about her sea otters. Yet he completely blew off her tirade.

  She got it. Sort of. He was keeping his distance, making sure they didn’t get too personal.

  It’s just sex.

  His passive manner was his way of warning her if she was going to break the rules, she was more than welcome to leave. He’d told her that with his body language, with his lack of words.

  If he reminded her it had been about sex, and now just about dinner, he’d sound like an ass, and her feelings would be hurt. In the odd way that was so Ryan. He was letting her down easy, and letting her off the hook instead of kicking her out.

  “Esme and Ollie.”

  He nodded his approval. “Outside or in?”

  “Let’s eat outside,” she said with a heavy sigh. “I’ll get the plates.”

  After he’d served their food, they carried their plates to the picnic table by the water and sat side-by-side so they both faced the pond.

  It wasn’t until they were halfway done with their meal that he spoke again.

  “Will Esme and Ollie be in the next book?”

  Why did one simple question turn him so easily from jerk to sweet? Ryan wasn’t the type of man who asked a question if he really didn’t want to know the answer to it.

  “I’m writing a book about a seahorse who wants to be a princess. Ollie has a guest appearance, though.”

  “My niece likes princess stories.”

  “Do you see them often? Your niece and nephew?”

  “No.” He stabbed his chicken with his fork.

  If they were in a relationship, or even admitted to being friends, she would have asked why not. She would have asked about his sister and when he last visited his family. Instead, she took the easy way out.

  “I think sex on the chair was even hotter than sex against the counter.” She lifted her shoulder in a casual shrug and sipped her water. “Just sayin’.”

  Of course, he didn’t take her bait and remained quiet, but she sensed a shift in his posture. A little more casual, a little more relaxed.

  “Sex outside could be interesting.” She pointed at a tiny red cabin across the water shielded well by tall pines. “Unless the neighbors across the pond have telephoto lenses. Of course, you could be into that.”

  Ryan dropped his fork on his plate and whipped a leg across the bench with an impressive amount of grace and speed.

  “They’re eighty-two and can barely make out the pond.”

  “Ah. So you’ve already ... tested the waters?” She grinned at him over her water glass. “Have sex with women out here often, do ya?”

  He took in a loud, deep breath. “No. Never.”

  “Well, I’m honored to be the first. It’s just sex, but still, first sex is kinda ... sexy.”

  “Mia.”

  She lifted her palms up. “Just sayin’. You’re a sexy guy. Can’t blame my mind for going there.”

  His eyes turned into that rich, dark chocolate again, and she did all she could not to smile too big, too wanting. She was teasing him, testing him, and Agent Thorne wasn’t one who liked to be tested or teased.

  The time to leave was now, before she said and did any more stupid stuff.

  “Thanks for dinner and sex. I’d clean up, but that would cross the line from it’s just dinner to something more.” She swung her legs over the bench and hopped to her feet. If she had her keys on her, she would have avoided going back inside and would have gone straight to her car.

  They were right where she left them on the kitchen table. She reached out her hand to scoop them up when Ryan’s strong hand gripped her wrist from behind.

  “Wait.”

  She didn’t turn around. “Dessert?” She didn’t mean to sound so ... throaty.

  “Yes.”

  His lips came plundering down on her neck, and she backed into him, needing his heat, his strength to hold her up.

  It turned out dessert sex on the kitchen table was right up there with sex on the chair.

  All around, Ryan’s dismal kitchen had become one of her favorite places.

  MIA WAS A HOT MESS, and she didn’t care. She let herself into her apartment and fell face first onto her couch. Her body had never been so thoroughly ... touched. Kissed. Branded. While the sex on the wooden chair was something for the record books—sweet and tender and beautiful—the fast and furious “dessert” on the kitchen table was smoking hot.

  He touched her everywhere with his hands and didn’t make her wait. While his lips attacked hers, his hands groped, massaged, rubbed, and pleasured. There was no teasing or talking in the second round.

  Granted, he hadn’t talked in the first round either, but Mia couldn’t have formed a word if she tried. He’d surprised her again from behind and covered her neck with his kisses.

  It should have been a turn off, a man not even giving the decency to have a civil conversation. She should hate him for being so cold.

  But he wasn’t. It was too hard to put into words, or a coherent thought, what the man did to her. The way he made her
feel when she was in his arms, like she was the only woman in the world—worshiped, adored, cherished. Maybe it was because she had a terrible track record with men, and he had small shoes to fill, or maybe it was because Ryan was amazing.

  Amazing for her.

  Stuck between wanting to keep his scent on her forever and needing a shower, she stayed on the couch until the sun set. Tomorrow would be a long day at the restaurant and then book club at night.

  “Big Sexy, play music from the eighties.” There were four chapters left in the historical romance. Reading in the tub with music playing from the living room, she did her best to forget about Ryan and got lost in someone else’s romance. At least Annabelle and the duke of Hamden would find their happily ever after.

  The following day flew by fairly quickly. She stayed busy waiting tables at The Happy Clam and filling takeout orders. The constant flow of customers kept Hope distracted enough to not notice the beard burn on the back of Mia’s neck.

  Ryan’s jawline had been smooth the first time, but between their chair escapades, dinner, and the kitchen table, he’d grown some stubble. It could have also been how rough he was. No, not rough, necessarily, but not tender and gentle like earlier.

  After work she went to the store to get snacks since it was her turn, and she was back at Books by the Ocean before anyone else got there.

  “Hi, honey.” Celeste greeted her with a hug.

  “Hi, Mom. Are you staying tonight? Historicals are your favorite.”

  “Please, I haven’t stayed for one of your book talks in years. Not since it turned into girls’ night out.”

  “Girls’ night out involves bars, loud music, drinks, and men. This is a far cry from GNO.”

  “When you get to my age, or even once you’re settled down with a husband and children, this is exactly what a GNO looks like.”

  “That reconfirms my commitment never to settle down.” Even though Mia didn’t believe what she said, she had a reputation to uphold.

  “Someday, honey, you’ll find the right person. In the meantime, do what makes you happy. Like writing your books. Any news from the agent?”

  “No.” Mia set the bags of food on the coffee table. “I got four rejections the other day. Kinda sucked, but they weren’t my top pick agencies anyway. Lesley Canton, the Newbury author whose been mentoring me, sent my book to her agent, and she’s the one I’m holding out for. A girl can dream, right?”

  “Dreams are what keeps the world bright and wonderful.”

  She didn’t know why she thought her parents would scoff at her fantasy to be a writer. Her mother lived with books, her life was books, and she was more proud of Mia now than when she graduated high school.

  “Thanks, Ma.”

  “I love you.” She kissed her forehead. “You girls have fun. Don’t forget to lock up.”

  “Never.”

  “And who’s on driving duty?”

  “Jenna. And we have Tristan as backup since he’ll be getting home from work around the time we finish up. He likes it when we send Jenna home frisky, so...”

  Her mother held up a hand. “I don’t need to hear anymore. Tell the girls I said hello.” She looped her arm through the strap of her purse and left.

  Book club didn’t start for another thirty minutes, but she got there early so her mother could head out and start on her own dinner. Mia had no one at home waiting for her, so she filled her time by filling in for everyone else. She was a filler.

  Just like she was a filler for Ryan.

  Just sex.

  Just dinner.

  Until he went back to New York and returned to his fancy life with his elegant, classy women who were probably lined up down the streets of Manhattan waiting for him to call their name. If he even did that. He probably looked at a woman, and she eagerly and easily followed him to his penthouse and did whatever he said. If he even talked to those women.

  He sure as hell didn’t talk to her.

  “Not going there.” She snapped the elastic at her wrist.

  “Ty’s out with Brady and Carter tonight, so I came by early.” Lily’s belly bump popped a week after the Fourth of July, and she looked too stinkin’ cute lately.

  “Mom just left.”

  “I saw her in the parking lot. She’s really excited for you.”

  “There really isn’t anything to be excited for.”

  “Not yet. You found your calling, though. We all loved the story you wrote, and Celeste said it passed the biggest test of them all. The kids at story time were on the edge of their seats.”

  “I wouldn’t go that far.” She unpacked the box of crackers and cheese and set them out on a platter she pulled from behind the counter.

  Their meetings had become so regular they stocked serving dishes, wine openers, paper plates, and plastic cups in the back.

  “Celeste said they were glued to you.”

  They were, and it was fun. A total ego boost. She read from her sketchbook, ad-libbing a bit when she thought of another line to add. When the kids left, she scribbled down her notes and added them to her manuscript when she got home.

  “They’re good kids.”

  “Alexis said Sophie talked your ear off after.”

  “Yeah.” Mia laughed. “She gave me some material for my next book.”

  “Please tell me you have chocolate.” Hope came barreling through the door, a bottle of rum in one hand and a two liter of diet coke in the other.

  Even though she and Lily were pregnant, they still had drink duty when it was their turn, and they only had DD duty when it was their turn as well. Not being pregnant wasn’t an excuse to drink at every book meeting.

  “The selection at Boon’s was limited, but I did find a box of Devil Dogs and a giant ass bag of peanut M&Ms.”

  “I love you. Give me the Devil Dogs. No, the M&Ms. Screw it, give me both.”

  “Chocolate cravings are a little fierce tonight.” Lily rubbed her small bump. “Is that what I have to look forward to in my eighth month?”

  “Eighth? Try first trimester and from thirty weeks on. I’m surprised I haven’t broken out with zits yet.”

  “You have the pregnancy glow,” Mia said, not fully understanding it, but hearing it was a thing.

  “Screw that. I’m sweaty, swollen, hungry, and want sex all the time. There’s no glow about me.”

  “You’re a little scary tonight.” Mia handed her the Devil Dogs.

  “I’m hangry. I just worked six hours and didn’t have time to eat. We’ve been nonstop busy since you left, and Olivia called out sick.”

  “Why didn’t you call me?”

  “Because you put in a long day already.”

  “We could have figured something out. You shouldn’t be on your feet that long.”

  “I’m pregnant, not an invalid. If I sit down, these Devil Dogs are going to go to my ass. Moving around helps to compensate my poor eating habits. And ditto on the feet comment.”

  Even though Mia never mentioned the pain standing for long shifts caused, her friends still noticed.

  Lily rubbed her belly again. “Mia, please let me know if I start to turn into a chocolate craving lunatic when I get to my eighth month.”

  Hope waved them both off. “Until you’ve been here...” She tore open the chocolate treat and ate it in two bites. “Don’t judge me,” she said with her mouth full.

  “No judging,” Lily said.

  Alexis, Jenna, and Grace came in together and stopped in their tracks when they saw Hope with another Devil Dog in one hand and the other buried deep in the bag of M&Ms.

  “Somebody’s got some cravings,” Grace said.

  “Sex is a good cure for the chocolate cravings.”

  They all turned to Jenna, their faces dropping for a moment. They didn’t know her when she was pregnant with her daughter, but they learned of her story, how she lost her baby after carrying her for nine months.

  “That must be why I’m not craving chocolate,” Lily broke the awkwar
d silence.

  “My ears.” Mia covered them with her hands. “No sex talk tonight.”

  “None at all?” Grace crossed the room and picked up the bottle of rum from the table. “Does this mean no more FBI nookie.”

  “I agree. No sex talk tonight.” Lily topped a cracker with a slice of cheddar cheese.

  “Her cheeks wouldn’t be burning red if she wasn’t getting lucky. She’d be angry.”

  “Like me,” Hope said, popping a handful of candy in her mouth.

  “Cameron’s not putting out?” Mia gasped. The man worshiped the dirt Hope walked on.

  “He’s afraid he’ll hurt the baby.”

  “That’s a myth. We asked our doctor back when I was pregnant.” Okay, so if Jenna could talk about it, they’d listen.

  “Ty was worried too and asked at my first OBGYN appointment.”

  “I know, but Cameron’s...” Hope dropped the Devil Dog back in the box. “He’s not small.”

  “We are not having a penis size talk tonight. Especially since I’m not drunk yet.”

  “Does that mean FBI guy is small?”

  “Grace.” Mia made herself a drink and started sipping. Guzzling.

  “Let’s talk about the book and hear what Grace’s pick for next month is,” Jenna said, making herself comfortable on the couch.

  “Next month’s book’s a good one.” She pulled out a hardcover from her purse. “It’s about an FBI agent who’s involved in a sex scandal. He’s not only investigating one, but he’s, uh, tied up in the middle of it as well.”

  Mia glared at her from across the room.

  This was going to be a long month.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Ryan’s radio silence for the past twenty days shouldn’t have surprised her. That was his MO after they’d been together. But because she was human, it hurt. A little. Right where it shouldn’t. Mia rubbed her hand across her heart as if she could ease the ache.

  Nothing would, so she continued with her mantra of diving into her work and flicking the elastic at her wrist anytime she went down the rabbit hole of despair.

  It was her days off that were especially hard. With only herself for company, she dove into her reading, writing, and sketching. And editing. The online writers’ groups were a constant wealth of knowledge and support.

 

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