The Start of Something Good

by Jennifer Probst

  She turned, shading her eyes in the sun, and met Ethan's twinkling blue eyes. Immediately, she realized something had shifted between them. Before, there'd been banter and possibility and caution. Now, he'd been buried deep inside her, and the knowledge that she knew him on a whole new level was something she couldn't ignore. Her fingers curled, aching to touch him. Brush his hair from his brow. Run her fingers over his lips and jaw. Kiss those firm, lush lips until he whispered her name in that intimate tone and dragged her closer.

  The emotions swirled in her gut, but she was in front of an audience and didn't know how to handle him. Did he want to keep their affair a secret? And if he did, how much would it bother her? She focused on their conversation. "You have a desire to peck at my feet?"

  His gaze dropped, lingering over every curve that had experienced his mouth and tongue and teeth. "I'd hate to say I neglected any part of you."

  She blushed. Actually blushed. "You didn't."

  A delighted grin curved his lips. "Good to know."

  She shifted her weight and stepped back for distance. Oh God, did he think she was at the barn to see him? To catch a glimpse like a love-struck teen? "Umm, I'm here to see if Chloe wants to go to dinner when she wraps up."

  "Hmm, just to see Chloe?"

  "Well, yes. I mean, I'm not here to bother you or stalk you or anything."

  His grin widened. "You're shy," he said.

  Her mouth dropped open. She blushed deeper. "No! Of course I'm not shy. I'm fine. I'm cool. With . . . whatever."

  He threw back his head and laughed out loud, startling her. She tried to take a step back, but Hei Hei blocked her way. "God, you're adorable. Hot. Sexy. And I missed you."

  He did? His open affection warmed her, and she relaxed, smiling back. "Me too."

  "Then get over here and greet me properly." He snagged her around the waist, pulled her in, and kissed her. The sweetness of his lips moving over hers stole her breath and shattered her defenses. She kissed him back, basking in the sun on her shoulders; the delicious taste of coffee, mint, and man; the rough scratch of his jaw rubbing against her chin. Slowly, he released her, but his gaze kept her pinned in place. "Better," he murmured.

  A few loud whistles cut through the air. She peeked over his shoulder and saw some of the workers giving them the thumbs-up. Mia groaned at the boys' juvenile fun. "I guess this is okay with the rules? People seeing us?"

  His brow creased in a frown. "There are no rules, Mia. It's whatever we both feel comfortable with, but I have nothing to hide. There's no need to sneak around like teenagers. I want to be with you. Spend as much time as possible with you this summer. Don't you?"

  The silly grin was back. "Yeah, I do. Would you like to join us for dinner?"

  "I'd love it."

  "Hey, Mia, what's up?" Chloe came toward them. Dust clung to her jeans and black tank, and her boots were encrusted with mud. Her purple hair was pulled back in a ponytail. Her skin had turned a warm brown under the sun's rays, even though Mia kept reminding her to reapply sunscreen every three hours. Her face was free of makeup. She looked tired, but her blue eyes were bright and clear. Mia had been afraid she'd find the girl depressed or angry, but it seemed that work agreed with her. She wondered if Ethan had talked to her again.

  "Wanna go to the diner?" Mia asked.

  A shadow fell over her face. "No. I'm not crazy about it there. Can we go to the Market? Fran says she's running dinner specials now."

  "Sounds great. Is it okay if Ethan joins us?"

  Chloe glanced back and forth between them. A knowing smile curved her lips. "Of course. I was wondering when you two would hook up. Ethel and Priscilla had a bet going, you know?"

  Mia groaned. "I'm not surprised. Unfortunately, they had to head out this morning, but Ophelia said a girl your age will be staying for the week with her parents. Maybe she'll be cool."

  "Maybe. I'll go get washed up--unless you need me, Ethan?"

  "No, you're good. Thanks, Chloe. I don't think I could've managed today without you."

  Her face flushed with pleasure. "Thanks. I'm getting better at riding now, so I can help out more with the guests. If you want me to."

  "Good idea. Let's talk more over dinner."

  She disappeared with a light step, her purple hair a beacon. She'd come a long way since their first meeting. Mia wished Jonathan had stayed to watch her horseback riding. It was as if her worries lifted, and she could just be happy being herself. Mia had a feeling the girl's father regretted that decision.

  "She'll be okay, Mia."

  She looked up at him and smiled. "I know. I'm hoping she doesn't mention her friends again. She's got orders not to see them."

  "If they come around, I'll talk to them."

  "Think I can't handle trouble?"

  "Mia, I think you court trouble. I'll be trying to keep you out of it."

  She laughed, and he grabbed her hand to pull her in for another quick kiss. "Let me shower, and I'll come pick you up."

  She watched him retreat, appreciating the stretch of denim cupping his magnificent ass. Now she knew what it was like to dig her nails into the hard muscles while he buried himself deep inside her. He had a tendency to unleash something dark and sensual and free. It was the first time sex had become an experience of exquisite pleasure rather than a race to orgasm and a faint guilt she wasn't enough.

  She firmly pushed the thought away. It was just great sex. No more, no less. Stick to the rules and no one gets hurt.

  Right?

  Hei Hei stomped his claws over both of her feet in demand for her attention and shrieked. Wheezy heard and bounded over, licking Mia's leg and the chicken's feathers. Who would've thought a dog and a chicken could be so close?

  "I'm right here, guys, take a chill pill. Let's walk back while Chloe and Ethan get cleaned up. I found this organic chicken feed at the pet store that's supposed to be the new hot thing. Figured you'd want to give it a try. If you like it, Tara said she'd run a special promotion on it."

  Hei Hei bobbed his head in agreement.

  "And I found some bones that are really good for senior dogs, especially for their teeth."

  Wheezy barked.

  "Good. Let's go."

  The chicken and the dog followed her while she continued to chat.

  Two hours later, Mia, Ethan, and Chloe were seated at the Market, eating a shrimp ceviche that was so fresh and delicious, Mia insisted Fran put it on the weekend special and create an entire menu around it. The crowd was now doubled, and a line formed at the deli and fish counters. A new seating area now boasted comfortable padded chairs and sleek tables surrounded by vases of brightly colored fresh flowers. "How did you manage to get this reinvigorated?" Ethan asked, forking up a chunk of rosemary potatoes. The side dish looked so damn good, but Mia still struggled with her love/hate relationship with carbs.

  "Once I pulled apart the target crowd, I redesigned the advertising campaign for her. Many times, the real problem is brand recognition and what you originally believe will be the basis of the business. For instance, Fran created the Market to compete with Whole Foods and other gourmet supermarkets. The town wasn't interested in that as much as her unique ability to offer fresh prepared foods and meal entrees. Instead of just selling fish now, we incorporated specials so people can run in for lunch or stop and get a meal to go. No one wants fast food all the time, and Italian places have their niche with pizza and heroes. The diner has their burgers and fries and milkshakes. Fran now offers fish entrees, vegetable frittatas, grilled paninis, and organic health options. It was just a matter of figuring out what the Market truly is."

  Ethan and Chloe stared at her.

  She blinked. "What? Am I boring you?"

  Ethan shook his head. "Hell no. I'm just amazed at the way your brain works with this stuff. Is this another part of what you do at your company?"

  "Yes. But that's for small businesses looking to break out and succeed. My current clients are much bigger, so I'm mostly fielding an
d spinning press stories, scheduling appearances, and making sure there are no surprises."

  "You do that for my dad?" Chloe asked. "I thought you just helped with his social media pages."

  "I do, but I work closely with his campaign manager so your dad is protected from people trying to misalign his reputation."

  The girl's face turned serious. She fiddled with her straw. "You mean, people can say bad stuff about my dad just because they don't want him to win the election?"

  "Exactly. I help make sure that doesn't happen."

  Her voice was so quiet, Mia had to strain to hear. "So you made sure the press didn't hear about my community service thing?"

  "Yes. With the election so close, if the world found out you'd gotten in trouble, it would affect your father's rankings. Unfortunately, you're not just a normal kid right now. Your dad is running for mayor, and that's a big deal."

  Chloe kept her gaze down, not answering. Mia shared a glance with Ethan, but he just nodded, so she let the girl ponder her words in silence. In all their conversations, Chloe never brought up what she did, choosing to treat working at the horse farm like a summer job rather than probation. Mia never pushed. Denial was a lovely place to live, but she knew from experience that eventually it shattered. Maybe that was beginning to happen to Chloe.

  "I screwed up." The raw words seemed torn from her. "I could've cost my father his dream. And even though I'm pissed at him and I think he's wrong to try and tell me what to do all the time, I want him to win. I want him to get what he wants and what my mom always wanted for him."

  Emotion choked Mia's throat. She ached to reach over and hold the girl's hand, tell her she understood and was forgiven, but nothing seemed to come out. A short, awkward silence fell.

  "You did," Ethan said. "All kids do, especially if they're being real. But you paid for it. You've shown up at the barn every day to work. You don't complain. You work hard. I've seen more guts in you than I have for a lot of nineteen-year-olds, Chloe. The slate is clean. Which is another thing I wanted to talk to you about."

  Mia and Chloe waited.

  "You've almost completed your time. Hell, you worked so many extra hours, when I logged in your schedule for the judge, I realized you only have a week left to fulfill your obligations."

  "You mean I'm done?" Chloe breathed out in surprise. "I thought I had to work till August."

  "Not anymore. You've doubled your hours at the barn, and I never counted them for free. So you can make a decision, and I'll respect it either way. I'd like you to continue to work for me. For pay. I'll give you ten bucks an hour and free horseback riding lessons. You continue to stay at the inn until the college semester starts, just like we originally planned. I'll let Judge Bennett know you paid your dues."

  "What's the other option?" Chloe asked.

  "You go back home with your dad. Of course, you can stay here if Mia agrees, but there's no reason if you're not working. Personally, I'm hoping you help me out, because you've shown a real talent with the horses. But I respect your decision either way."

  Mia caught the mingle of emotions flicker over Chloe's face, but she was focused on Ethan.

  Chloe could go home.

  Which meant so could she.

  Her breath caught in her lungs. Thoughts rioted like mad in her head. She should be happy about the opportunity to get back to her real life. November was too close for comfort, and she could focus the next few months on Jonathan's campaign. Pavement under her feet, Starbucks coffee in her hand, designer clothes back on her body. The crazed chaos and excitement of being back in the game. Her trendy loft apartment with its endless space and fabulous cocktail parties every night.

  Why wasn't she excited? Why did the thought of returning home rip her apart with regret?

  She wasn't ready. She didn't want to leave Ethan before she could soak up every last moment of his company. She wanted a bit more time to dig deeper and learn more. She wanted to finish up the summer on Ophelia's front porch and meet the new guests arriving tomorrow. She had to finish the marketing plan for Brian's comic book shop and get Bea up to speed on boosting her social media.

  She couldn't go home. Not yet.

  "I want to stay," Chloe said.

  Mia almost sagged in relief. It was Chloe's decision, not hers. It should be Jonathan's, but if the girl wanted to work and finish up her commitment for the next few weeks, she knew it was the right thing to do. They'd already booked the inn, and everyone expected them to be here till August.

  And then the words popped out of her mouth before she could stop them. "I do, too."

  Ethan nailed her with his gaze. Pale-blue eyes glimmered with heat and promise and a hunger that exploded fire in her belly. Satisfaction coated his voice. "Good. Because I didn't want either of you to leave."

  Chloe smiled. "Just one more thing."

  "What's that?" Ethan asked.

  "How about twelve dollars an hour?"

  He grinned and Mia laughed, and Chloe let out something that was suspiciously close to a giggle.

  Chapter Nineteen

  The bedroom was cast in shadow. The full moon hung suspended over the edge of the mountains, glowing so brightly, she bet werewolves were running rampant. It was a crazy moon, big and round and ripe, tempting the world to shed inhibitions and go wild.

  Since they'd already made love twice, Mia had no problem following Mother Nature's instructions.

  "Tell me about Hollywood."

  He regarded her lazily. "Wanna hear about the stars?"

  She laughed. "No, I want to hear about your job. You were a bodyguard. Who did you protect?"

  "A few different people--no big celebrities, at first. Then I was assigned to Delilah Devlin."

  "The actress from that popular HBO series?"

  "That's the one."

  She lifted her head with a frown. "Wait, I think I remember reading something about her. Yes, she was with a Special Forces guy and got engaged and--" She broke off, stunned. "Ethan, were you engaged to her?"

  "Yes."

  A rush of jealousy gripped her. The idea of him sleeping with a famous actress and actually proposing shook her foundation. She tried to pull back to gather some space, but he seemed to sense her discomfort and tugged her back against his hard chest. He tipped her chin up to look at him.

  "Mia, it's not what you think. We were engaged for three weeks before I left on a mission." His face hardened, but he met her gaze head-on and continued. "When I got back, I was fucked up--both my brain and my leg. She came to see me in the hospital, and we realized immediately everything had changed. She wanted things to go back to the way they were. Hollywood parties and red carpets and fun. She wanted me to be her bodyguard again and leave the military behind, along with my memories. She couldn't understand I was too damaged. I had changed. I could never go back to the man I was. To what we were."

  Something shifted inside, opening her up to the faint regret in his voice as he spoke. She waited, sensing there was more. "Did you try to fix it?" she asked softly.

  "There was nothing to fix. She was concerned about how a breakup would look--not about losing me. I told her it was okay to spin the story so I took the blame and seemed like a cold-hearted bastard. We didn't care about each other enough to fight for the relationship."

  She caressed his rough cheek. "Do you miss her? Wish it could have ended differently?"

  He tucked her hand in his. "No. The only regret I had is thinking I knew what love was. I thought love was fun and frothy, like some cocktail you get on a remote beach. I thought it was easy and neat and tidy. When she walked away, I barely even missed her. I'm ashamed I allowed myself to believe in that type of world, when I was fighting so hard for real stuff in the other."

  His words rocked her to the core. She kissed him, needing the touch, and he kissed her back. Something had changed between them, but she didn't know what it was yet.

  "Thank you for telling me."

  He smiled, and she lingered in the following
silence, stroking his body. Her fingers ran over the bare skin of his back, tracing the beautiful scrawl of ink that declared the motto he lived and breathed: So Others May Live. His muscles jumped under her touch, and satisfaction curled deep within. It was nice to know she had the same power over his body that he commanded over hers. "When did you get your tattoo?" she asked.

  "After I joined. I worked with a pretty tight team, so we all went out one night and got matching tats."

  "How sweet. Male bonding at its essence."

  "Hey, it was hardcore. We'd just gotten off a mission in Mosul, and they joined me for a few days in LA. We got drunk, stumbled to a hole in the wall, and demanded to get matching tats. I was the lucky one."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Let's just say Wingbat's tat says, 'So Others May Lie.'"

  She laughed. "No way."

  "Way. What a fuckup."

  "Is his name really Wingbat?"

  "No, it's Kevin. But when he jumps from a plane, he tends to look like a crazed bat, so the name stuck."

  "Ted says he'll give me a free tattoo for helping him with his marketing campaign."

  He quirked a ginger brow. "You gonna take him up on it?"

  "Maybe." She took in his grin and pursed her lips. "You don't think I would?"

  "I think you never considered it a possibility before. Maybe it's time to indulge in a little rebellion you missed in your youth. What would you want?"

  She cocked her head, considering. "A rose?"

  He groaned. "Lame. Everyone gets a flower or peace sign. You need to think of something that will mean something to you, even when you're old. It needs to be a symbol that remains timeless."

  "Damn, you take this stuff seriously. Oh, wait, I know!"

  "What?"

  "A pair of Christian Louboutin shoes. I can never have enough, and they're timeless."

  "You're such a brat."

  Mia giggled and went back to her playground. His body was magnificent, and too much of it had missed her attention. She scored her nails down the line of his spine, stopping to press a kiss in the center of his back. "So we have 'Wingbat.' What's your nickname?"

  "Ethan."

  "What about these?" Her hands coasted toward his left biceps, where three deep gouges formed a jagged oval. "How did this happen?"

  "Someone tried to give me a nickname."

  She laughed, pinching his ass for his punishment and her pleasure. "Stop, for real. What happened?"