by Annie Rains
“Not a good idea.” Those were the same words he’d used at the Christmas tree, right before kissing her. And he’d been wrong. That had been an excellent idea.
“Why?” she asked, feeling the tension between them dial up to crackling.
“You know why, Kaitlyn. Kissing is one thing. Anything more is irresponsible.”
“For who? Me or you?”
“Me. Mable didn’t leave this place to us for me to take advantage of you.”
“Is it taking advantage if it’s what we both want?” Sucking in a breath, she reached for the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head.
“Kaitlyn,” he said on a deep groan. She watched his gaze flick down to her white lace bra.
It was a bold move, unlike her for sure, but she was tired of waiting for Mitch, who seemed to have the patience of Job. Her desire bordered on need. She could barely breathe as she waited for him to make his move.
“You’re going to have to invite me over there,” he finally said in a gruff voice.
“I kind of thought taking my shirt off was an obvious invitation. Being together doesn’t have to change things between us, Mitch. It can just be two adults having consensual sex.”
Sex had always meant something to her in the past though. Maybe it would now too, but she didn’t want to think about that at the moment. Her body needed him. She hadn’t been satisfied sexually by a man in a very long time, and she had a feeling Mitch would raise the bar for any man who followed him.
He took the smallest step toward her, his gaze unwavering. Then, detouring, he flipped off the lights and climbed onto the opposite side of the bed with his back turned to her. “It’s been a long day,” he said. “We’re both tired. We should get some sleep.”
She blinked, feeling hot tears descend. Snatching up her top, she put it back on and stared once more at the shadow of a man. Gah. How embarrassing. She’d offered Mitch sex with no strings attached, and he’d rejected her.
Burrowing under the covers, she hoped sleep would find her fast. By the sound of the heavy breathing beside her, it’d already found her bedmate.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Mitch flopped restlessly onto his side as he slept. He was in one of those dream states where he was right on the edge of waking but he couldn’t get his eyes to open. And he needed them to open.
He was at a party where he probably shouldn’t have been. But when you’re seventeen, the things you shouldn’t do usually sound like the best ideas. He had a beer in his hand but he didn’t intend to drink it. It was all for show. He also had his eyes on the head cheerleader across the room. The night was promising to be one of the best of his life.
Not the worst.
“Last-Ditch Mitch,” his buddy Tuck called, grabbing his elbow and pulling his attention away from the blond. “Something’s wrong with Tim.”
Mitch turned to Tuck, whose black hair was overgrown, making waves that turned in varying directions on his head. “What’s wrong?”
“He’s sick.”
Tim Sampson was always sick. He was one of those kids, chronically pale, thin, catching every virus in the air. If survival of the fittest were in play, Tim would be the first one to die in their group of friends.
“He’ll be fine,” Mitch said, curling his fingers around his bottle. It’d taken some convincing from his friends to even come tonight but he was glad he did. All the worry that came with being a teenager in a single-parent home had melted away with the crowd, music, and girls.
Tuck gestured at Mitch’s drink. “You’ve barely taken a sip from your beer. I’ve had a whole one. We all have. You should be the one to drive him home.”
Mitch looked at Tuck as if maybe his friend had lost his mind.
“Don’t you remember how Tim almost died last year? After eating the bad burgers?” Tuck pressed. “My parents don’t know about this party. If we call an ambulance, they’ll definitely find out, and I’ll be grounded until college.”
Mitch started to argue but Tuck raised a good point. Tuck came from a strict home, and having the party here tonight while his parents were away would get Tuck grounded for life. He’d probably never see his friend again.
“He only lives a few minutes away. Drop him home and then you can come back and flirt with Tanya.”
Mitch sighed. “Fine. Where’s Tim?” He went in the direction that Tuck pointed and nearly had to carry their scrawny classmate to the door. The air was chilly as they stepped outside. Ice had been forming every night lately, and Mitch had to watch his step on the pavement to make sure he and Tim didn’t bust their asses as they walked.
With Tim secured in the passenger seat, he got behind the wheel and jabbed the keys in the ignition of his mom’s car. She worked for the prestigious Everson family in the daytime and usually let him have the car in the afternoons and evenings to go to his job at the local diner. That’s where she thought he was tonight. He felt mildly guilty for lying to her but he deserved to be a normal kid like his friends sometimes too. Right?
He turned on his headlights and took to the winding mountain roads, trying to remember which turn led to Tim’s house. “Hey, Tim.” He nudged his friend, trying to get his attention. “Tim?”
Tim stirred in the seat beside him.
“Which road do you live on, man?” Mitch reached over and gave his friend’s shoulder a harder shake.
“I don’t feel so great,” Tim moaned. “I think I’m going to barf.”
“No, no, no.” Mitch glanced across the seat. “Please don’t vomit in my mom’s car. She’ll kill me, dude.” And he’d be busted on his lie. He hated disappointing his mom. She was always working so hard.
Tim lurched forward, making a gurgling sound as he did.
No, no, no!
Mitch grabbed an empty fast-food bag from the floor and started to shove it into Tim’s lap. Then a sharp squeal shot terror into his lungs. Mitch whipped his head up to look at the road and saw only lights, so blinding that he yanked the steering wheel right, but not before something hit the front of his car, throwing his mom’s old Cavalier into a tailspin on a patch of black ice.
The moment seemed suspended in time. One split second seemed to float like one of the snowflakes starting to fall from the sky. A million thoughts raced through his mind.
What is happening?
What did I hit?
Is this the end?
His mom would be so disappointed. So lost without his dad and now him too. How could he do this to her?
The moment broke, and Mitch’s head slammed forward into the steering wheel, bouncing off like a rubber ball. Pain, like a lightning bolt, seared his brain. Then Tim’s body fell into his lap like a rag doll.
Is he dead?
The car finally came to a slamming halt against the guardrail. Or maybe they’d gone over, had fallen down the mountain, and this was death.
Mitch’s eyes cracked open, a splinter of light jabbing into his pupils.
Tim stirred on his lap. Still alive. Still in one piece—hopefully.
Turning, Mitch saw the SUV he’d hit rolled over on the other side of the road. He knew deep in his gut that the accident had been his fault. He had dipped to get a paper bag for Tim, taken one hand off the steering wheel as fate had tossed black ice in his path. Instead of turning into the spin, he’d jerked the wheel. His driver’s education teacher had taught him better but that training had gone out the window in his terror.
Mitch focused on the SUV, thinking it looked familiar in the beam of his broken headlights. He knew the person who drove it but in his groggy state he couldn’t remember who it was.
Sirens sang in the distance. Please get here. Please help us. A passerby had pulled over on the roadside now and was running toward the scene of the accident.
Accident. It was all a terrible, horrible accident. He hadn’t intended for any of this to happen. Hopefully everyone would be okay, and he’d just be grounded from now until he went to the police academy next year with Alex. Watching
the SUV, with no sign of life inside, he had a sinking feeling that wouldn’t be the case.
* * *
Mitch’s eyes flung open. A thin layer of sweat covered his skin. He blinked in the darkness, making sense of his surroundings. He glanced over at the dark figure lying next to him in bed. Kaitlyn. That hadn’t been a dream. She was real.
They hadn’t had sex but he’d wanted to. All those years of practicing self-control in the marine corps had paid off. Kaitlyn wouldn’t be waking up with any regrets related to him this morning. He didn’t want her to wake up next to him sweating and shivering like this either.
Careful not to wake her, he got out of bed and pulled some jogging clothes and sneakers out of his bag on the floor. He needed to go work off his pent-up sexual energy and frustration before showering.
After dressing, he slipped out of the bedroom and then the front door. He hopped into his truck and drove to his favorite jogging spot at Evergreen Park. It was still dark out, but he didn’t mind. He locked up his truck and started down the path.
Between his interaction with Kaitlyn last night and his nightmare about the accident, he was ready to implode: physically, mentally, and emotionally. He upped his speed, running from the weight of it all, but it stayed steady on his shoulders.
Up ahead he could hear the natural hot springs. The sound called to him as each foot pounded the earth.
Then the image of Kaitlyn’s lace lingerie popped into his mind. What was he going to do about her? He didn’t have a clue. He hoped it would come to him by the time he got back to the B&B. He had a feeling she still might use that fireplace poker on him if provoked.
Which he might’ve done last night.
* * *
Kaitlyn rolled over and stared at the empty space beside her in bed. Before nodding off last night, Mitch had turned on his side, away from her, and he went to sleep without a second thought. Then apparently, after she’d finally drifted off, he’d slipped away. He’d rejected her and then decided he didn’t even want to stay in the same bed as her.
Jerk.
Blowing out a breath, she sat up on the edge of the bed. The clock read five a.m. She supposed she needed to get up and start preparing to be the happy host for her house full of guests. She headed into the bathroom, showered and dressed, and then dragged herself down the hall to the kitchen. Mitch was nowhere to be seen. A quick glance out the window revealed that his truck was missing too. Maybe he’d gone back to his mom’s place. Gah—she shouldn’t have thrown herself at him last night. What was she thinking?
“Need a hand?”
She jumped and whirled to face Paris. He was dressed in his usual jeans and black T-shirt. She wondered if he owned anything else. “You know how to cook?” she asked.
“I didn’t survive this long on cold cereal.” He went to the sink, washed his hands, and then started collecting ingredients from the fridge. She had been doing this routine for a couple weeks now, and she was getting good at it. It was nice to have help though.
“You are a godsend, you know,” she said as she beat eggs in a bowl.
“I could say the same. I got on my bike and headed down here without planning for a place to stay. I’m glad your inn had a room for me.”
“Me too.”
She and Paris prepared enough food to feed a dozen people and set the tables just as the first guests started to arrive downstairs. More guests spilled into the dining room a few minutes later and took their seats. Kaitlyn had decorated the tables yesterday, setting floral bouquets inside mason jars at each one, creating a cheerful environment.
Mr. Krespo pulled out a chair for Mrs. Krespo. The old woman eyed him suspiciously. “You’re going to pull that out from under me when I go to sit,” Mrs. Krespo accused, talking loudly enough for the other guests to hear.
“I would never do that, sweetheart. That’s your paranoia and dementia talking.”
“I don’t have those two things. Are you trying to lock me away so you can find some other hot, young thing to live out the rest of your days with?”
“No, I’m trying to be more romantic. That’s what you said you wanted, remember?”
Mrs. Krespo shook her head. “By trying to kill me?”
Mr. Krespo’s hands flew up at his sides in surrender. “I give up.”
“Want me to do damage control?” Paris offered.
Kaitlyn shook her head. “No, I’ve got this.” She walked over and grabbed the back of the chair that Mr. Krespo had already pulled out. “Why don’t you have a seat, Mrs. Krespo, and I’ll bring your breakfast?”
Mrs. Krespo gave her a suspicious look too but Kaitlyn had no reason to do the older woman harm. On the contrary, if Kaitlyn harmed Mrs. Krespo, she had a feeling the older woman would go after her for all this place was worth, which still wasn’t much.
The older lady sat and frowned at her husband, who took a seat next to her.
“There you go. Why don’t you two talk while I get breakfast for you?” Kaitlyn gave a slight nod at Mr. Krespo when he looked up at her. “Maybe talk about what you’d like to do today,” she suggested, and then grabbed a nearby brochure. She laid it on the table in front of Mrs. Krespo. “This might give you some ideas. I recommend going downtown and walking along Silver Lake. Dawanda’s Fudge Shop sells hot chocolate nearby. You might stop there after your walk.”
Before Mrs. Krespo could argue with the suggestion, Kaitlyn walked away to get the serving dishes passed around. Then she sat down with Paris, Chris, and Nate.
“How was your stay last night?” she asked them as she filled her own plate.
“Wonderful. Much better than it would have been at your mom and dad’s anyway,” Chris said, looking at his partner.
Kaitlyn looked between them. “If you don’t mind me asking, why won’t your mom let you two share a room, Nate?”
He shrugged. “She’s still getting used to the idea that we’re not just friends, I guess. We’re married now, and there won’t be any grandchildren for her.”
“Not in the traditional way, at least,” Chris said, smearing strawberry jam on his biscuit. “We can adopt,” he told Nate. “I love kids.”
“Me too.” Nate turned back to Kaitlyn. “My mom sometimes takes a while to come around but she usually does. This just means that Chris and I might be booking more nights at your inn over the next couple of years.”
“Well, you’re always welcome,” Kaitlyn told them. “And if you have any suggestions to make the stay better, please feel free to tell me. I’m still learning the ropes of running a bed and breakfast. This is all very new to me.”
Chris shook his head. “I can’t think of any recommendations. It’s absolutely perfect here.”
They continued to make small talk, and then Nate leaned over to Chris and whispered loudly. “Chris, why don’t you ask her?”
“Ask me what?” Kaitlyn looked between them.
“Well”—Nate grimaced slightly—“Chris and I can’t figure out which one of the guys who work here is your partner.”
“Business partner?” she asked.
“No, partner partner,” Chris said.
The room suddenly went very quiet.
“I mean, you were with the big guy with the beard last night,” Nate said.
“That’s Mitch,” Chris offered and then nodded at Paris. “But you’re eating breakfast with him.”
Paris started choking on a bite of his biscuit. “I’m just a guest here,” he said when he finally swallowed. “Kaitlyn and I are just friends.” He looked at her. “Once you’ve shared a Thanksgiving dinner together, you’re officially friends, right?”
Kaitlyn nodded, a little stunned by the Trapps’ question. “Yes. We’re definitely friends. Just friends,” she told the group.
“So, the other guy, Mitch, is your boyfriend? I say boyfriend because there’s no ring on your finger.” Nate nodded at her left hand.
She pulled her hand back from the table. When she’d decided to be the host here, she’d
had no idea she would be the object of such speculation. “I’m single, actually. Mitch is also just a, um…um…” She had no clue what Mitch was to her. Maybe they weren’t even friends anymore.
“Sex toy?” Mrs. Krespo asked from across the room. “That’s how me and Marvin started out too. Sex buddies, and then he knocked me up.”
The room filled with gasps. Then Missy and Joe started giggling uncontrollably.
“You laugh,” she said, pointing a finger at Joe, “but I sure hope you used protection with her last night, young man, or your good times are over. Once the baby comes along, all the fun is sucked right out of life. No more staying at fancy bed and breakfasts like this one. Not until you’re old like me, at least. And by then you’re no longer attracted to one another.” Mrs. Krespo gave a pointed look at Mr. Krespo, who was busy keeping his head down and nibbling on his bacon.
Awkward.
Kaitlyn made a mental note to offer Mr. Krespo some more tips that might put him back in favor with Mrs. Krespo. He’d told Kaitlyn over the phone that his wife wanted romance. Kaitlyn could certainly help with that.
The front door to the house opened, and Kaitlyn heard heavy footsteps in the living room. Her breath stuttered in her chest.
“You go check on who it is,” Paris said. “I can help out here if anyone needs something. That’s what friends are for.” He winked.
“Thanks.” Relieved to distance herself from the conversation, she headed to the front, even though she already knew who was here. The only person who would enter without ringing the doorbell.
“Sounds like everyone is already having breakfast,” Mitch said when she rounded the corner and stopped to look at him. He was sweaty and dressed in jogging clothes, and something about that turned her on.
Which also infuriated her. After last night, she didn’t want to be attracted to him.
“The guests started coming down early. Paris helped. In fact, I think I can handle things on my own from here on out. You can just come by during the day for the next month to satisfy the conditions of the will.”