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Protect Me (The Donovan Family Book 6)

Page 19

by Margaret Watson


  He suspected she didn't realize she was doing it. He wasn't about to point it out, either, because then she might stop.

  Leaning over Finn so that her breast pressed against his upper arm, she said, "Pete, you're coming in, too. My mother would be horrified if you didn't."

  Pete's gaze shifted from her to Finn and back. "That's not necessary, Mia. I'll be fine."

  "It's completely necessary." She squatted next to the car, so her eyes were level with Pete's. "You don't come in, Finn and I aren't going in there, either. Then who's going to eat all that homemade lasagna?" She leaned closer, putting her breasts dangerously close to Finn's mouth. He wanted to bend his head and kiss them, but he restrained himself. Who knew who was watching out a window?

  Pete's eyes softened. "I haven't had homemade lasagna since Judy died."

  "That settles it. Turn off the engine and get out of the car."

  Pete glanced at Finn again. He shrugged. "I'm just along for the ride, too. If Mia says you're welcome, of course you should join us."

  Pete glanced back at Mia. "Thanks," he said softly.

  As the three of them walked up the steps, the door opened and an older woman who looked a lot like Mia rushed out the door. "Mia! I'm so glad you came."

  She hugged her daughter, pressing her cheek against Mia's, and Finn was impressed. Mia's mother was focused completely on her daughter – she hadn't even glanced at him.

  Not that he expected her to. But he was usually the first person noticed in a group, and it was unexpectedly refreshing to be the sidekick. To be Mia's 'date' and not the center of attention.

  Mia's mother finally leaned back and studied her daughter. "You look tired. Is this job keeping you too busy?"

  Finn's face heated. Mia's lack of sleep had nothing to do with her job.

  "Not at all. There have been some late nights, but nothing I can't handle," Mia said calmly. She turned around and looked at Finn, and instead of the discomfort he expected, her eyes twinkled. Like she was getting a kick out of their shared secret.

  Was she punishing him for pushing to meet her family?

  Probably. It would be a very Mia-like thing to do.

  Maybe coming to her mother's wasn't such a great idea.

  He tore his gaze away from her laughing face and held out his hand to her mother. "A pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Donovan. You have a remarkable daughter."

  She beamed at him. "Thank you, Finn. And call me Rose, please."

  "Rose. Thanks for inviting me." He grabbed Pete's elbow and dragged him forward. "This is Pete White. My friend from California. Mia insisted he come, too."

  "Of course." Rose held out her hand to Pete. "Nice to meet you, Pete."

  Frozen in place, Pete stared at Mia's mother for three heartbeats. Then he shook her hand for a few seconds too long. "You, too, Rose," he murmured.

  His hand slid away from hers and swallowed. "Mia looks a lot like you."

  "I get that a lot," Rose agreed. "Come on in and meet the rest of the family."

  Finn stepped into a welcoming living room with a denim-colored couch and loveseat. A coffee table sat in front of it, and a worn recliner stood in the corner. He recognized it immediately. It was the twin to Mia's. Like Mia's, a table sat between it and the couch, holding a stack of magazines and several books. An oriental rug covered the floor.

  The whole bungalow would fit into his living room, but he'd rather sit in this comfortable room than his own designer-arranged space. In here, a guy could be himself. Get comfortable on the couch with a beer and a book. Watch a baseball game on TV.

  An arched opening led into a dining room that held a long table. Voices and laughter spilled out of the kitchen behind it.

  "Mia's here," Rose called, and a tide of people surged out of the kitchen. They stopped, falling silent, when they saw him next to Mia. Then one of her brothers stepped forward. Finn was pretty sure it was Brendan, the one who'd interrogated him at Oscar's.

  "Glad you could come," Brendan said easily, shaking Finn's hand as if he'd never engaged in a stare-down with him at the restaurant. "Con told me you're Mia's job. Should have said something the other night. I wouldn't have given you the stink eye. At least not as much."

  "Uh, that was Mia's call." Ouch. Could he sound any more lame?

  Brendan slapped him on the back. "Yeah, she scares all of us sometimes, too." He turned around and pulled a beautiful woman with wavy, caramel-colored hair forward. "This is my fiancée, Cilla."

  Cilla studied him for a long moment, then nodded. "Good to meet you, Finn." She finally smiled. "Hope you're not overwhelmed by all us Donovans."

  "Trying not to be," he admitted.

  Cilla leaned closer. "Greatest family in the world," she said, as if she were imparting a big secret. "The first time is a little intense, though."

  He met the rest of the family in a dizzying wave. Con shook his hand and apologized for making a scene near his trailer, then introduced his girlfriend Raine. A guy who looked exactly like Con turned out to be his twin, Quinn, whose girlfriend was Tessa. Mia's oldest brother, Mac, was more reserved than the rest of the family. His fiancée Lizzie was warm and welcoming.

  Even Mia's aunt Helen, whose clingy dress outlined a baby bump, her husband Jamie and their daughter Charlotte were there. Helen and Jamie didn't look any older than Mia and her brothers, and Finn shot Mia a questioning look.

  "Helen is Mom's much younger sister," she said, taking the dark-haired baby who was reaching for Mia. "How's my Charlotte?" she cooed to the little girl, who patted Mia's cheeks with a huge, drooling smile and babbled at her. The drool landed on Mia's shoulder, but instead of freaking out, she pressed a kiss to Charlotte's wet cheek.

  As if baby drool was a fashion statement she was proud to make.

  Finn smiled as he pictured Jenna Stanton's shriek of horror if a baby drooled on the shoulder of her designer clothes.

  Someone pressed a bottle of beer into his hand, then Mia tugged him into a conversation with Jamie and Helen about the house they'd just bought and were rehabbing. As they talked, Mia played with Charlotte's hand, smoothed the baby's curly hair, and replied to every one of the girl's babbling sentences.

  They drifted from one group to the next, and after an hour, Finn felt as if he'd known the Donovans forever. They asked briefly about the film and his role, her brothers talked about the security and the stalker, then they moved on to Charlotte's upcoming birthday and the party they'd planned.

  Rose questioned him about his family, and the sympathy in her expression when he said they didn't see each other very often made him squirm.

  He wanted to point out that not everyone had a family that lived as close as hers, but he knew it was more than that. Finn had focused on his career, and the choices he'd made had limited his time with his family.

  Yeah, they couldn't get together for dinner one Sunday a month, but they could get together more often than they did. He had enough money to make it happen. Seeing his siblings and parents, who lived in different cities and different coasts, took effort and planning he hadn't bothered with.

  An effort he vowed to make, starting when he finished shooting this film. Seeing the closeness the Donovans shared, the way they truly enjoyed each other's company, made Finn realize how much he was missing.

  Mia nudged him, and he turned to her. "You notice my mom and Pete?" she murmured.

  Finn glanced around and saw them in the kitchen. Pete was helping Rose set the steaming lasagna on the counter, pulling the salad dressing out of the refrigerator, checking on the garlic bread.

  "This smells so good, Rose," Pete said as he removed the second pan from the oven. "I can't wait to try it."

  "I'm so glad you came with Finn and Mia," she said, canting a little toward Pete.

  "I didn't exactly come with them," Pete said in a gruff voice. "I'm Finn's driver."

  "He brought you from California so you could drive him around?" She laid her hand on Pete's arm, and the older man gazed down at it, his eye
s suddenly a little darker. "He must trust you very much."

  "What's going on?" he whispered to Mia.

  "What do you think is going on?" she asked, elbowing him in the side. "He looked as if he'd been struck by lightning when you introduced him to my mom. Do I need to ask his intentions?"

  Finn watched his friend, who'd been grieving for his wife since Finn met him, talking and laughing with Rose Donovan. "Maybe you do," he said slowly.

  "I was joking, Finn," she said, leaning against him for a brief moment as she took a sip of iced tea. Even here with her family, she wouldn't drink. She was still on the job. "They're both adults. I think it's kind of sweet."

  She eased away from him, and he missed the weight of her body against his. "I doubt he's going to break Mom's heart in the two weeks you'll be here."

  Two weeks. He had fourteen days left with Mia.

  When he'd heard about the Chicago shoot, he'd shrugged it off as part of the job. He hadn't looked forward to living in a hotel for three weeks, but it wouldn't be forever.

  Now, in two weeks, he and Pete would go back to California. He'd move on with his life and career. Mia would stay in Chicago and go back to her normal life, as well.

  She'd meet someone else. Fall in love with him. Make a life, probably very much like the life her brothers and mother had. Centered around her job. Her family.

  Her husband.

  Finn ignored the tiny burn of regret. Of loss. He'd make an effort to get closer to his own family. They couldn't have dinner together once a month, but they'd damn well get together more often than Christmas and Thanksgiving.

  Mia wouldn't be part of it, though.

  She'd be with that damned husband.

  He reached for her hand, and after a moment, she twined her fingers with his. Squeezed once, then let him go.

  She'd disappear from his life after this shoot, but he'd spend every second of the next fourteen days with her. And after he went home to California?

  He'd miss her. A lot. After only a week, it was hard to imagine his life without Mia. His world would center on work. Publicity commitments. Parties with important people he was obligated to attend

  Was that the life he wanted?

  * * *

  Mia glanced at Finn as the car sped toward the Loop. He'd thoroughly charmed her family tonight. He'd laughed and joked with her brothers, patiently answered questions about movie-making, and teased her future sisters-in-law until the tough women who loved her brothers were giggling.

  He'd even let her mom draw him aside for what looked like a serious talk.

  As they were leaving, her mother had told Finn she hoped to see him at the next family dinner. Finn, sounding sincere, had said he hoped so, too.

  At the next family dinner, he'd be back in California. Already gone for two weeks.

  Two weeks would go by in the blink of an eye. But she'd savor every second of them.

  Tick tock.

  She slid closer until they were pressed together from their thighs to their shoulders. "You were great with my family," she said, taking his hand and pressing their palms together. "Thank you."

  He looked at her, his expression puzzled. "You're thanking me? For what?"

  She shrugged as she studied their joined hands. "For answering all their questions. For flirting with Tessa and Lizzie and Raine and Cilla." She smiled, although it was forced. "For letting my mother interrogate you."

  "She didn't interrogate me," he said immediately.

  "I don't believe you," she said, frowning as she studied him. "I know my mother."

  "Okay, she did. But not about you."

  "No?" Mia was shocked. She'd brought guys home in the past, and her mother's and brothers' questions and hovering always embarrassed the hell out of her. "About what, then?"

  Finn touched the thick plastic window between the front and back seat. Checking to make sure it was closed? "She wanted to know about Pete. If he was married, or engaged or dating anyone."

  She let his hand go and gripped his leg as she swiveled to face him. "No way."

  "Sorry. That's what she was asking about." He trailed his finger down her check, down her neck, lingered at her pulse. She shivered. "You thought she was asking about my intentions toward you?" he asked, his eyes crinkling into a grin.

  "No. I'm just shocked because my mother hasn't dated at all since my dad died. At least not that I know of."

  "So they didn't ask about my intentions because they assumed our relationship was professional. Right?"

  "Yeah. Right." She barely resisted rolling her eyes. "Because none of them noticed we were touching each other all evening. Even Charlotte could tell we were more than business acquaintances."

  "That must mean they approved of me." His voice was as smug as his smile.

  "Nope. Just means they didn't have to ask. They already know your intentions."

  His smile disappeared. "What do you mean?"

  "You told them you only had two weeks of shooting left in Chicago. You're leaving after the filming's done. So why bother to interrogate you?"

  "What if I'm so hard to resist that you fall madly in love with me in the next two weeks?"

  Mia snapped her gaze to his face. His eyes were twinkling. Good joke, Finn. Swallowing once, she flopped back on the seat. "My mama didn't raise stupid children."

  Silence filled the car, stretched uncomfortably long.

  This wasn't the way Mia wanted the evening to end – thinking about the end of things rather than the time they had left. Determined to lighten things up, she asked, "So what did you tell her about Pete?"

  "That his wife Judy died about five years ago. That he hasn't dated since, as far as I know. And that he's a great guy. That I've seen a lot of women hit on him, including some pretty well known movie stars, and he never gave any of them a second glance."

  "Oh my God. You did not say that to my mother." Mia spun in her seat so she was facing Finn.

  "How do you know I didn't?" He tilted his head, a smile flirting with his mouth, as if he was fascinated.

  "Because she was laughing. If you told her Pete had ignored movie stars but was interested in her, she would have kicked your ass."

  "How come?" He frowned at her. The wrinkles in his forehead only made him look sexier.

  "Because she'd assume you were lying, of course. Sucking up to her."

  "I wasn't lying. It's the truth." He took her hand. "Your mother's a beautiful woman," he said softly. "I imagine you'll look just like her in about thirty years."

  "I was right. You are a suck up," she muttered.

  "Nope." He curled his arm around her shoulders and tugged her against him. "You're one of the most beautiful women I've ever seen." He nuzzled her hair, pressed a kiss to her neck. "And I can't wait to get back to our room and show you how beautiful you are."

  Desire fizzed and bubbled through her, and she leaned against him. This was what she wanted. Not depressing conversations about him leaving in two weeks. She'd much rather think about what was going to happen in the next hour or two. The rest of the night.

  When they reached the hotel, she practically dragged Finn through the deserted hall and onto the elevator. She let him go when they reached their floor, unlocking the door and stepping inside.

  Stopped before she entered, her eagerness to get inside vanishing. A white envelope lay on the carpet.

  Chapter 21

  "What?" Finn asked behind her.

  "There's an envelope on the floor," she answered, staring down at it. "Looks like the other ones." She turned to him. "I want you to stay in the hall. Keep the door open, but don't come in, okay?"

  "Mia…"

  "Don't argue, Finn," she said, her voice sharp with fear. "Just stay here."

  He nodded, putting his hand on the door to hold it open. Holding her purse tightly, she searched through his room, then hers. Both closets. Both bathrooms.

  Finally, when she was sure the suite was empty, she searched in her suitcase for a pair of gloves and
an evidence bag as she called, "Come in, Finn. Close and lock the door."

  Snapping the gloves on, she picked up the envelope and slid it into the plastic bag. Then she found the letter opener on the desk and slit it open. Eased out several pieces of paper.

  The top sheet was ripped out of a newspaper. It was a story about the fight at Seven with Kyle. Finn's name was prominent, as was the description of her. And the fact that they were plastered together all night. Never apart except for the few moments of the fight.

  Next was a photo someone had taken of Mia pushing through the crowd to get to the center of the dance floor. Finn's hand was on her hip, his face easily identifiable.

  Then another photo. It was taken from the side. Finn's face was clearly visible, hers, less so. They were near the door, on their way out, and Finn's arm was wrapped around her shoulders. She leaned against him, her arm around his waist.

  The fourth piece of paper was a note. Same handwriting as the other notes, same hard, angry strokes of the pen. 'You betrayed me. When you left Gemma, I knew you were ready for me. And when you came to Chicago, I knew you were looking for me. It was our time. Then you dumped me for this slut. We're over. You will pay.'

  "Oh, God," she murmured, gripping the top of the evidence bag in her fist as she stared at the photos. "Was she there? At Seven?"

  "I don't think so." Finn uncurled her fingers from the bag and tugged it out of her hand. He peered at the first picture through the plastic, his finger sliding over first one photo, then the other. "My guess? These are screen shots. Someone at Seven took the photos, then uploaded them to one of the gossip sites. Looks like the stalker printed them out from her computer."

  Mia snatched the bag from him and studied the photos more closely. "I think you're right," she finally said. "I see the edges of the computer toolbar at the bottom of one on them."

  "So she wasn't there. And she doesn't know the circumstances surrounding those pictures."

 

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