Chapter Twenty-Five Mia poked her head into the kitchen. "Ophelia, I'm all set. It's time for me to check out."
The woman wiped her hands on a daffodil-yellow dishtowel and walked over. "Can I say you're my very first guest that I actually don't want to leave?"
Mia laughed. "I don't believe you. I overheard you telling every guest they were your favorite."
"All lies and propaganda. But you? My brother's not the only one here who feels like he's lost someone special."
Emotion clouded her eyes. "Now, don't start. I'm going to be visiting regularly. I'm going to be in detox for your scones."
"No, you're not! I have a present for you!" Ophelia glided over to the freezer and withdrew a large package of perfectly wrapped scones. "They're already cut. Just pop them in the oven for fifteen minutes to warm, and you're all set. There's lemon and blueberry."
"You are amazing."
"Nah, all part of the job."
Mia shook her head. "No, it's not. I hope you know how special you are. How much you're really worth."
Ophelia jerked in surprise, color flooding her cheeks. Ophelia was the perfect hostess, and she ran the inn with both a firm and loving hand. Guests always felt special and pampered, and she worked tirelessly behind the scenes to give that effect. With her elegant grace, easy smile, and Irish beauty, she seemed like a woman who had everything.
But Mia sensed something deeper that seethed beneath the surface. Sometimes, when she caught Ophelia out of the spotlight of the guests, a sadness clung to her figure. Maybe it was the boy she once spoke of. Ophelia Bishop was simply a mystery she wished she had more time to explore.
"Back atcha, Mia Thrush." The women hugged one last time. "Safe trip. Did you see Harper?"
"Yep, said goodbye at the barn. Did Chloe and Jonathan come down yet?"
"They're putting their stuff in the car."
"Thanks."
Mia walked outside and found Chloe and Ethan waiting for her. Jonathan was talking on his cell by the car. Mia smiled at the girl, her heart aching. Though Chloe and Jonathan had fought over her father's insistence she come back to New York, Chloe eventually surrendered with an adult grace and dignity that had shocked her father. She promised to give NYU one semester and wait for the election results. Then they'd agreed to renegotiate depending on how the future steered. Though the girl was obviously disheartened, a new steely strength shone from her blue eyes. The proud tilt of her chin showed a woman, not a girl, and one who had confidence. Mia cleared her throat as Chloe came over and gave her a big hug.
"I'm going to miss you," the girl whispered.
"Me too. Do you absolutely swear to stop in and see me at the office? Or text me? Or Snapchat me? Or Instagram or Twitter or Facebook?"
Chloe laughed and drew back. "Yes, I swear."
"Good."
With one last squeeze, Chloe let her go. Then she turned to Ethan.
Mia watched them stare at each other, as if words were too little for what they were feeling. Like Phoenix, Ethan seemed to communicate with her on a whole other level. And when he opened his arms, Chloe stepped in and hugged him with a pure affection that brought tears to her eyes.
"Do good at NYU," he whispered roughly. "I may not be on Snapchat, but I text."
The girl laughed against his chest. "Will you send me pics of the newest horses? And Phoenix?"
"Yes. Maybe you can come up on break and spend some time here."
The girl pulled back and nodded eagerly. "I'd love that."
Jonathan motioned Chloe over and mouthed We gotta go.
Ethan regarded her with serious blue eyes. "You always have another home here, Chloe. Remember that." With a small smile, he gently pushed her away toward her father. "Bye, sweetheart."
"Bye, Mia. Ethan. Thanks. I had the best summer of my life."
Mia leaned against Ethan and watched them drive away. "Why do goodbyes have to suck so bad?" she asked.
"It means you care." He stroked her cheek, blue eyes filled with intimacy. They'd been starving for each other last night, making love over and over, trying to desperately delay the coming of dawn. His touch and scent were imprinted on every inch of her body. "I packed your car. Gave you some extra water bottles for the trip."
"And Ophelia gave me scones."
"Good. If I find out you're not eating at least one baked good per week, I'll be pissed."
"Magnolia Bakery is close by. I'll just stop putting blinders on when I pass it."
"Good girl."
They smiled at each other. A loud squawk filled the air, and Mia glanced over to see Hei Hei scrambling toward them, head feathers bobbing with excitement. Wheezy shot out after him, tongue lolling, and Mia met the animals halfway, crouching to her knees. The crazed chicken flew into her embrace, rubbing his feathers over her and pecking at her feet. Wheezy gave her a tongue bath, pushing his furry head against her. She laughed, blinded by the sheen of tears. Damn this chicken for making her love him. Damn this dog for making her crave such loyal companionship. Who would've thought they'd all become so close?
"Hei Hei, Wheezy, I just might miss you the most," she murmured, stroking his beautiful feathers and patting the dog's back. "Ethan promised to give you the special organic food I ordered and those treats you like. You have to stop eating the rocks like your namesake from Moana. It's not good for you."
Hei Hei screeched.
"Okay, I love you. I promise I'm coming back to visit. I promise."
The chicken cocked his head, as if considering her words. Wheezy seemed to understand and slowly, bones creaking, lowered himself to the ground. She unfolded herself from the ground and walked toward the car, where Ethan waited.
"I'll call you when I get home. I'll check my calendar and let you know when I can drive back up."
"Sounds good."
"Guess this is it." She bit down on her lower lip to keep it from trembling. "I love you."
"Love you, too. There's just one thing you have to promise me before you go."
"Anything."
He kissed her hard, with a fierce intensity that shook her to the core. Then he lifted his head with that sexy half smile curving his lips. "Win."
She nodded, stepping back, gaze glued to his. "We will."
"See you later, baby."
She got into her car, drinking in his presence: Thighs braced apart. Fisted hands on hips. Head tilted up in a proud arrogance that was all male. Ginger hair blowing in the wind. Leashed power emanating in waves around him. And those beautiful pale-blue eyes locked on her through the window.
Hei Hei was right beside him. As if the chicken knew something terrible was happening, those crazy feathers fell limply to the side of his head instead of sticking straight up. He kept still and silent, his entire demeanor sad. A choked sob rose up from her throat. Dear God, it hurt so much. It was as if she was losing a piece of herself she'd just found.
With one last heart-wrenching smile, Mia reversed in the lot and drove away.
This time, she couldn't look back.
She knew if she did, she'd never leave.
Chapter Twenty-Six
"Girl, you got it bad."
Mia shook herself out of her trance and looked at her assistant. Gabby stood framed in her office, a huge stack of folders in her hands. Impatience radiated from her in waves. "I'm sorry? What do you need?"
Gabby sighed, walking in to drop in the chair opposite her desk. "I've called your name three times. I need the approval on the new media campaign for the mommy blogger. Plus, Tanya's scheduling a press release about the sex tape, and you need to be by her side with the Cover Girl people. Did you get a dress from Rent the Runway for the gala this Saturday?"
"What?" Dammit, she'd been planning to try and sneak upstate for the night. "Which one is that?"
"Jonathan's being honored for his work with Saint Jude's Hospital, remember?"
No, but she'd pretend. "Right. I'm on it."
"No, you're not. I'm worried. It's like you're o
nly half here, with your head in the clouds back on that horse farm you were supposed to hate. Tell me again how hot he is."
Mia laughed, lowering her face into her hands with defeat. "Really, really hot."
"How many times did you do it in one night?"
"Five. But I had even more orgasms."
"I am so signing up for a horse farm on my next vacation," Gabby said with a sigh.
Mia shook her head, trying desperately to stop thinking about her time with Ethan. One full month had already passed, and she was so busy she barely had time to breathe, yet every spare second, his face drifted in her mind. With the election only a month away, every free moment was spent on Jonathan's social media campaigns, appearances, spinning solid press, and keeping him in the spotlight so voters were consistently reminded to vote. She'd managed to sneak in a visit with Ethan one brief weekend and a short lunch when they both drove halfway to save on time.
They'd spent the two hours holding hands, talking nonstop, and trying to pretend things were fine apart. On the drive back, she got stuck in horrific city traffic and was late for her next meeting. It had almost affected her ability to sign a new client, but she'd rallied and now safely held the career of a long-term basketball athlete who'd been arrested for drunken behavior in her hands. As a mentor to young kids, the incident had killed him in the press. Mia needed to piece it back together again. Normally, it was a challenge she thrived on, reminding herself once again of the importance of her job and giving people a valuable second chance.
Except lately, she just wasn't that happy.
She missed dinner with Ophelia and Harper and Chloe. She missed the smell of the barn and Wheezy's howls and Hei Hei's crazed affection. She missed the stark beauty of the mountains and the quiet of the woods and the scents of musk and earth and sunshine. She missed the way the air reached deep into her lungs when she breathed and how she'd finally begun sleeping through the night. Her damn insomnia was back with a vengeance now that Ethan wasn't in her bed. And she missed him so much, it was like a physical ache throbbing in her gut.
Usually, her job gave her a thrill like nothing else. She lived on adrenaline and hunting new clients. She adored social engagements and being in the spotlight. But lately, there was an emptiness inside her she couldn't seem to fill with work, no matter how much she tried.
"I'm sorry, Gabby," she said quietly. "I'm trying. It's just hard getting readjusted."
Her friend gazed at her with sympathy. "I get it. I'm on your side, and I'll help as much as I can. Maybe once the election is over, you'll have more time to see each other. Why can't he come down here more often?"
"It won't help if I'm running from event to event and can't give him any time. He's not really comfortable in the city, either."
"What are you guys going to do?"
Mia shrugged. "Nothing for now. Work it out. Take time when we can."
"Phone sex?"
Mia shooed her out of the office. "I am not discussing it, Gabby. I already gave you way too much info."
Gabby laughed, dropping a fat folder on her desk. "Fine. If you don't want to share the dirt, you can contact Reese Donovan, who's been trying to hire you to clean up his reputation."
"Ugh, no way, I only take on clients who deserve a fair break. He's scum."
"Exactly. I'm not up to another round with him."
Mia assessed her assistant, then sighed in surrender. "Fine. Yes to phone sex."
Gabby lifted a brow. "Webcam?"
"Once."
"Orgasms?"
"Three. In half an hour."
Gabby shuddered. "That's just too delicious. Fine, I'll deal with Reese the pond scum." She grabbed the file back and flounced out of her office.
Mia laughed and got back to work.
Ethan dragged in a lungful of air and knocked on the door. He'd only been in Manhattan a few hours, and already his nerves were wrangling. From the clogged city streets and beeping cars, to the confines of his monkey suit and tight, shiny shoes, he realized how far from this world he'd strayed. A year ago, he'd been king of the cocktail party and Hollywood scene. Now, he was counting the hours till he was back in his jeans and working with Phoenix.
He heard a few low mutters before he spotted her eye behind the peephole. The screech of delight and scramble to unlock the door affirmed he'd made the right choice to surprise her by accompanying her to the gala.
"Oh my God, Ethan!" She jumped into his arms without pause, and he caught her tight against him. The tension in his muscles relaxed, and the warmth of her body reminded him the evening would all be worth it to please her. "What are you doing here?"
"Every princess needs a date to the ball," he teased.
She blinked furiously, pure emotion filling her gorgeous whiskey eyes. "Thank you," she whispered. "But you didn't have to do this."
He tipped her chin up and smiled. "Yes, I did." He kissed her long and slow and deep, until his head spun like one of those old cartoons when a character got slugged and saw little birdies. He lifted his head and pushed her gently away from him. "Let me look at you."
She was gorgeous, dressed in a clingy gold gown that showed off just enough cleavage and hugged every curve--his dick was hard in an instant. That thick, honey-blonde hair was pinned up, emphasizing the graceful curve of her neck. Her shoes were wicked stilettos clustered with gold sparkles. He imagined her naked except for those shoes and smothered a groan. "Sweetheart, you're killing me. How am I supposed to keep my hands off you?"
"You don't." Her gaze swept his black tuxedo, and pure lust shot at him in waves. "Because I'm not keeping my hands off you, horse man."
At that moment, the discomfort of his clothes was completely worth it. The sheer pleasure in her gaze as she took him in made him want to roar and beat his chest like an ape. "Keep looking at me like that, and we're going to be real late," he warned.
Her wicked smile knocked him to his knees. "We can't be late, but we can leave early," she drawled.
"Done. The limo's outside. Let's get this over with."
Her laughter warmed him as she grabbed her sparkly gold purse and wrap. He escorted her into the sleek vanilla limousine, where a bouquet of red-and-ivory roses waited for her, along with champagne. She quirked a brow and sipped the bubbly brew. "Oh, you're smooth. Was there ever a woman who could resist you?"
He drank his champagne and tried to keep his gaze off the lean length of naked leg the slit in her dress revealed. "Yes. You."
"Yet here I am."
He snagged her hand and entwined his fingers with hers. "And every damn day I'm going to make sure you don't regret giving in."
Her features softened. "Ethan."
"Yeah?"
"We're going to leave really, really early."
He grinned. "I know. Now drink your champagne."
The ride to the New York Public Library was way too short. Ethan would've been happy spending the evening riding around in the limo with her, drinking champagne, stretching her out on the cool leather seats, and bringing her to orgasm with his mouth.
Instead, they pulled up to the red carpet, and the driver opened the door.
Flashbulbs exploded in his face. The roar of the crowd surrounded him, and microphones were shoved close, a mingling of voices peppering endless questions. Ethan concentrated on Mia, tucking her arm under his elbow and guiding her up the steps. She smiled and nodded, laughed and answered questions with a witty air that told him she was comfortable in front of cameras and enjoyed being in the public eye.
Ethan managed to keep a grim smile on his face and focused on getting one foot in front of the other. Sweat coated his skin. The fabric of his expensive tuxedo squeezed him like a vise. The noise came in a huge rush of waves, at first dim, then growing to massive proportions of sound that wrung his ears and rattled his foundation.
Ah, shit.
It was happening.
They stopped midway to the entrance to stand in line. He dimly recognized a few celebrities and politicia
ns, impeccably dressed and chatting nonstop in an effort to get a handle on who was most important, and who they should get their pictures taken with. A siren screamed and flashed past them; another flashbulb went off, and suddenly Ethan froze, held in the throes of a massive panic attack that drove him to drop halfway to his knees.
Mia's face faded in and out, but it was her voice he clung to as she repeated his name and angled her body to block his, guiding him firmly away from the crowd. He leaned against the giant column and fought the crippling fear chopping away at his sanity.
He looked up, frantic, and gazed straight into amber eyes.
"Breathe, baby. I'm not going anywhere."
He ripped at his tie and fought for air. Dragged in a breath. Again. Then again. Her hands clasped his, her gaze calm and controlled as she breathed with him, encouraging him to slowly take in more air.
It took a while for his lungs to accept the air and his heart to stop thundering and the sweat to dry on his skin. As he gathered more control, straightening up and coming back to reality, she smiled at him. A beautiful, loving, sweet smile that punched through his chest and squeezed his heart.
"Better?"
He managed a nod. Shame filled him. She deserved so much better than this. Than him. Than all his fucking issues.
"Don't you dare," she whispered fiercely, poking at his chest. "Don't you even think it, Ethan Bishop, or I'll . . . I'll . . . beat the crap out of you!"
That brought a grin to his face. God, she was magnificent. How had he ever managed without her? "Then I won't."
"Good. I have an idea. How about we blow this lame party and go back home, where you can show me all the dirty, filthy things you want to do to me?"
And right then and there, Ethan fell in love with her all over again.
Shoving back the fear, he shook his head. "Not a chance. I want to see you in action here. Plus, the crab cakes at these functions are really good."
A frown creased her brow. "They suck and you know it. I'd rather get naked."
He reached out and cupped her cheeks. Careful not to mess up her lipstick, he drifted a whisper-soft kiss over her lips. "Thank you, but I want to go in. I'm okay now."
She seemed to sense the need for him to prove he could conquer his fear and slowly nodded. "We're only staying an hour. Tops."
"Sounds like a plan."
She squeezed his hand, and they rejoined the line, which was now moving through the elaborate doors. The charity fund-raiser and gala was for Saint Jude's Hospital and boasted the creme de la creme of New York. The inside of the library had been transformed into a dream ball. Candles and white lights highlighted the gorgeous gleaming floors, and fat bouquets of flowers were held in Roman vases. Linen-covered tables supported a massive array of foods, and tuxedoed service staff brought around platters of appetizers. Dazzling gowns in blinding colors filled the space as tightly knit groups chattered away while a full string quartet filled the high ceilings with soaring melodies.
The Start of Something Good Page 25