The mid-August day was hot and humid, making the air in her apartment close to unbearable. She flipped on all the fans, changed into a tank and loose shorts, tied her hair up in a messy bun on top of her head, and sat at the kitchen table to work.
Later, she’d go down by the water. Midafternoon there’d be too many people down at the tiny private beach, and conversing with others only distracted her from her work. Too bad she didn’t have access to a private place on a lake or pond...
Wouldn’t Ryan flip if she just showed up and made herself comfortable in a chair by the water? The thought was tempting, but she needed to work, and having incredible sex would only serve as a distraction.
Plus, Ryan would be pissed. He wouldn’t talk to her. She’d press him into a conversation, they’d have sex, and she’d be momentarily happy with life. Then she’d be pissed at herself for falling so easily once again.
She picked up the book on seahorses that arrived last week. Again, no note or message attached, but she knew it was from Ryan. It was those little gestures that saved him from being a total prick.
He was afraid. Afraid of her, of getting close, of being tied down—although Ryan with his hands tied above his head was a fantasy she really wanted to see played out.
Rubbing her hands across her face in an effort to wipe the image away, she snapped at her wrist—even though she wasn’t exactly down the rabbit hole—and opened up her laptop.
She clicked on the webpage Carter had designed so perfectly, and wrote on her blog. It wasn’t much, and it wasn’t exciting, but it was part of her weekly routine. She typed a quick entry about blueberry season and how she was looking forward to fall.
It was pretty much mandatory if you were a New Englander to love fall. How could you not? Warm days, cool, crisp nights, stunning foliage, and the harvest in full swing.
Mia proofed her work for spelling mistakes and pesky typos, then hit publish. She was slowly gaining traction on her blog and was happy when she got two comments on her posts.
She had a regular commenter: Justine. Justine always had something sweet to say. “I’m looking forward to reading your books.” Or “Tell me more about the sea otters.” And once in a reply to her post about a thunderstorm she asked, “Do they make you scared or are you the type who loves a good storm?”
They wrote back and forth about the beauty of the storms. She asked Justine where she was from. The east coast. The woman didn’t specify where, but they had the Atlantic in common, so that was nice.
Popping over to her email, she first noticed a message from Sarah Walker, the agent who represented Lesley Canton. Mia opened the email and scanned the message, searching for those magical words.
Gasping, she read the email again, slower this time.
I love your book and future ideas and am interested in representing you. Please call me at your earliest convenience.
She stood up and danced and screeched about her kitchen.
“Ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod!” She pulled at the front of her tank top to cool herself down. “Oh. My. God.”
Mia took four deep breaths then chugged her glass of lukewarm tea.
“Oh my God,” she repeated.
She waited for her hands to stop trembling and then picked up her cell phone and dialed.
Fifteen minutes later she was shaking even more than before. Sarah already had a list of publishing houses she wanted to send her series, Ollie and Friends to. She liked the idea of centering the series around Ollie, since she found him so adorable. The princess seahorse story could sell, but she’d have to rework her focus a bit.
Uh, yeah. No problem there since her focus had been completely out of whack all summer long.
Her hands still shook, and she needed to talk to someone.
Ryan. He’d been the source for her initial inspiration. He was the first one who knew about her writing aspirations.
Without giving herself time to think or to back out, she dialed his number. On the second ring she hung up and tossed her phone on the counter as if it had scorched her.
What the hell was she thinking? It was just sex. Just that one dinner. He’d made it crystal clear they didn’t share anything other than sex.
She snapped her elastic over and over again as she paced her small apartment. The cell phone buzzed on the counter, and she stopped in her tracks. Peering down on it, she read the screen.
Ryan.
Again, without thinking of the repercussions, she picked up and forced a calm, “Hello?”
“Mia.”
His deep voice sent shivers to her core and warmed her even more, causing a sheen of sweat to cover her entire body.
“That’s me.” She tugged on the front of her tank top, giving herself some air and stood in front of the fan so she wouldn’t faint from all the excitement.
“You called.”
“Uh, no. I didn’t.” Why the lie? So stupid. So very, very stupid.
“You did.”
Damn technology and caller ID.
“I must have butt dialed you or something. Sorry about that.”
Silence. He was so good, so very, very good at the silent interrogation.
“I’ve been busy and am multitasking... I must have sat on my phone and opened up my calls and it decided to call some of my recents.”
“I’ve never been a recent.”
And wasn’t that the truth. The excitement fluttering through her veins seconds ago left her body like a feather in the wind.
“I don’t call many people,” she stammered. “Your name must have been up there.”
“We’ve never called each other.”
Shit. He was right.
“I ... uh ... I...”
“Are you okay?”
Those three little words shouldn’t have affected her the way they did. Closing her eyes, she dropped her chin to her chest and confessed.
“I’m sorry I’m breaking the just sex rule, but I had some good news I wanted to share. I shouldn’t have bothered you. I’ll let you go.”
She hung up on him and turned off her cell. It was stupid. All of it. Calling him, lying to him, hanging up on him. This amazing-sex-and-nothing-else relationship wasn’t working for her. He was right in cutting all their ties.
No more pining for Ryan. No more thinking about him. No more time wasted.
WHERE MIA WAS CONCERNED, Ryan had a habit of making bad choices. It didn’t matter that his case was closed, or that he was in the middle of packing and had planned on leaving for New York in an hour. He stopped what he was doing and got into his Lexus to go check on her.
Standing outside her apartment door, he told himself this was going to be the last dumb thing he did. After today, he was cutting all ties to Mia.
He rang the doorbell to her upstairs apartment and waited. And waited. And waited. He rang again and when she didn’t answer, he opened the door—unlocked, he’d have to talk to her about that—and headed up the stairs.
At least she had enough common sense to lock the door to her apartment. He knocked on it and waited again. Loud classic rock music played from the other side of the door.
Finally, he heard her from inside.
“Just a sec,” she hollered above her favorite Aerosmith song. She had good taste in music.
She opened the door wearing nothing but a bath towel, her hair piled high on top of her head. Ryan forced his eyes to stay trained on hers.
“Tell me.”
Her eyes went big and round with surprise, and she clutched at her towel where the two ends came together over the swell of her breasts. He may be keeping his eyes above the neck, but his peripheral vision was amazing.
As were her breasts.
She hugged her towel tighter and blew at the loose strands of hair in her face. “Excuse me?” she said with typical Mia-like attitude.
“Why did you call?” He picked his foot up and placed it on the step, forcing his way inside. She stepped back, and he closed the door behind him.
“I
... I already told you. I didn’t mean to.”
His gaze dipped to her cheek, then her neck, and he swallowed. This was incredibly stupid. There was nothing to gain out of barging down her door and demanding why she called him. They’d both get hurt. Especially Mia.
This had to end, but he had to see her.
One last touch.
One last taste.
That was all, and then he’d walk away from her and allow her to have a safe, healthy, happy life like she deserved.
Sex. This could be just about sex.
The song ended, and an even louder one started up. Mia angled her head over her shoulder and called behind her. “Big Sexy, turn off.”
Big Sexy? Ryan’s short fingernails dug into the palms of his hands. He had no right to be jealous. No right to ask who the guy she was showering with was.
The music shut off. Any second Big Sexy would step around the corner, and Ryan didn’t think he had the strength to keep his facial expression passive.
“I got an agent.”
His gaze snapped up and met hers. I’m your agent. No, that was not what she meant. Those hazel eyes softened, and the strong Mia he knew and ... just knew, shied away.
“The one I told you about a while ago. She accepted my proposals and is working with some publishers now. She gave me some suggestions on how to tweak my princess seahorse story. I hope Sophie’s okay with it.”
Mia scratched the top of her head under her bun and lifted her shoulders as if what she was telling him was no big deal.
“I have my work cut out for me, but this could be the big break I’ve been looking for. I mean, she may not be able to sell my books to anyone, and I could be sitting on this for a long, long time but—”
“Congratulations.” Ryan reached out and brushed his knuckles down her cheek. I’m proud of you, he wanted to say, but those words would imply something more ... personal. Like she meant something to him. Screw Big Sexy who had every right to punch him for touching the woman he’d been showering with.
“Thanks. I mean, really. I had a lot of ideas, but nothing solid, and our trip to Boston and all the stories you told me about your childhood and your dad’s jobs ... well, you’re the one I have to thank for this. If it wasn’t for you, Esme and Ollie wouldn’t exist. So, thanks.”
“Do I get a cut from your first royalty check?”
There it was. Mia’s full force smile that took up her entire face and knocked him on his ass every time.
Every.
Single.
Time.
She smiled a lot in Boston and on the train, and sometimes when they fought and she knew she was getting to him. The past few times they were together she smiled less, but his emotions were growing stronger. He had to sever the ties, he reminded himself, to keep her safe.
“That could be pennies. I’ll give you a shout out in my acknowledgments. Well, I’ll mention James since he’s the one who helped. Ryan Thorne has been nothing but a pain in my ass.”
Call him perverted, but he couldn’t help that he looked down at her butt, barely covered by her navy blue towel.
“And on that note, I need to get dressed. Thanks for stopping by.” Mia brushed past him, her strawberry scent filling his lungs, and opened the door.
She was kicking him out. They hadn’t even kissed. He barely touched her. And they didn’t have sex. This was good.
He needed her to be strong since he was so weak. If he could only be the man she needed him to be. But he couldn’t keep her safe. It was dangerous for her to be linked with him in any way, for many, many reasons.
“Mia.” He’d be an even bigger ass than she already thought him to be if he didn’t tell her he was leaving. “I’m proud of you.”
Okay, not the words he wanted to say but the truth, nonetheless.
She touched her throat.
The throat and neck he’d been fantasizing about for months. Damn, now he felt like a vampire.
“You are?” Her voice raised a pitch, the disbelief echoing through his ears.
“I am.” Because he was the ass she most likely thought him to be, he reached out and covered her hand with his, threading his fingers through hers.
If he hadn’t known about her close-knit family and tight circle of friends, he’d think her reaction was because she didn’t have a solid support system. But everyone she was associated with—with the exception of the party crew outside of town she hadn’t hung out with in months—were good people.
It was Mia who doubted herself.
“Thank you,” she said, her eyes showing the sincerity behind her words.
And dammit to hell, he couldn’t help himself. He lowered his head and cupped her cheeks, bringing her lips to his, not caring if her new boyfriend was in the other room.
She tasted sweet and clean, and he wanted to wrap his arms around her and hold her forever. But he couldn’t. Not now. Not ever.
Keeping their kiss light, he drew away and framed her face with his hands. “I’m leaving for New York.”
“Oh,” her voice dropped a level. “When?”
“Today. Now. I’m on my way.”
“Oh.” The tightness around her eyes returned, and she moved out of reach. “You wouldn’t have told me if I hadn’t called you.” She held up a hand to stop him from denying the truth. “That’s fine. It was just sex. You don’t call someone to tell them you’ll never see them again when it’s just a sex thing you’ve got going on.”
She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes.
“You have your ... Big Sexy.” He flicked his gaze over her head, still not seeing any movement in her apartment. Hell, if he had Mia naked and in a towel, there’d be no way he’d let her stand in the doorway talking to another man.
Not that Mia was the type of woman who took orders from a man. She was an equal partnership. Another thing he respected about her.
“Big Sexy?” Her eyebrows lifted, nearly touching her hairline.
“I didn’t mean to interrupt—”
“I’m sorry. I do not understand. Can you repeat?” A robotic sounding voice echoed from the living room.
“Big Sexy, turn off.”
Ryan eyed her with confusion. “Who...?” Nope. None of his business.
“What. Big Sexy is a what. He meets my every command. Well, some. Simple things like playing music, turning on the lamp by the couch, telling me the weather.”
He’d heard of those devices. A security risk he didn’t understand why anyone would want one. Mia thrust her hip out, her lip curling in a cute snicker.
So, Big Sexy wasn’t an issue, but her remark about them not being anything serious was a knife to the chest, even though it was painfully accurate.
“Mia,” he whispered, dropping his chin to his chest, hoping she’d hear the pain behind his words.
“Nah. No worries. Too bad I couldn’t get any congratulations sex out of you. I’ll have to find someone else for that.”
He snapped his head up, a new storm brewing in his eyes. “Don’t.”
“I think I deserve some congratulations sex. You can’t argue with me there.” She was joking, her tone light and giddy, but he wasn’t a hundred percent sure.
“This was supposed to just be sex.”
“It is. It was,” she said too easily.
“No, it isn’t, but it has to be.” Because he was a fool, he pinned her to the door and crushed his mouth against her lips, tasting her for one last time. If she pushed him away, he wouldn’t argue, wouldn’t convince her to let go one more time.
But she didn’t. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled her body up into his, kissing him back with as much reckless abandon as he gave her.
He kissed her until he couldn’t breathe anymore. Until her breath and his were so intertwined that there was no distinguishing between one from the other. His hands hadn’t left her neck, and he was soon jealous of his fingers.
He broke away from her lips, and she let out a protest. He couldn’t help bu
t smile at her reaction and then traced her jawline with his tongue until he reached her earlobe.
“Ryan,” she begged.
Her voice would be forever stamped in his memory. She moved her hands from his shoulders and undid her towel. His face was buried in her neck so he couldn’t see her body, but he could feel the heat radiating off it.
“The couch.”
“Anywhere you want, sweetheart.” He picked her up, loving the way her legs wrapped around him, and carried them to the couch.
This time he didn’t sit, but he lay her down and rested one knee in the cushion next to her naked body, keeping his full weight from crushing her.
“I’m leaving for New York today.” He needed to make it clear that this couldn’t be anything more, that this was their last time together.
She reached up and stroked his face with a gentle touch he didn’t deserve. “I know.” Again, she wore a sad smile on her lips. He brought his mouth down to hers in an attempt to erase it. To erase the pain of losing a woman he cared about.
At least this time when he lost her he could live with the comfort of knowing she was safe. That she could have a future, a life, even if it wasn’t with him.
Mia’s hands worked their way under his shirt, and he helped her take it off. Next came his shorts and boxer briefs. This was the first time they made love laying down. He nestled his body half on top of her, half on the couch, and took his time exploring, memorizing every curve.
His hands and mouth made a lazy trail across her ribs while her hands pressed firmly into his back.
She moaned again. Damn, he’d miss her voice, especially when it was low and throaty with lust.
“Mia.” He loved saying her name. He wanted to say more, so much more, but his words would only hurt and confuse her. Showing her instead with his body, he made sure she felt appreciated, cared for ... loved.
It wasn’t about him. This was all about Mia. He took his time touching her in places he’d missed in their rushed sexual frenzies. He rubbed her thighs, her calves, even her feet while his mouth kissed, licked, and nipped every body part it could find.
She dug her fingers into his shoulders and practically begged, “Ryan. Please don’t make me wait any longer.”
Something More (A Well Paired Novel) Page 15