“Can you come by sometime before Monday and fill out paperwork?”
“Yes, I could do that.”
We discussed semantics for a few more minutes before saying goodbye. Then I hurried to the children’s section to tell Samantha. She had her nose buried deep in a book that seemed way too old for. “I got it,” I whispered, sitting on my knees beside her.
“You did?” The excitement in her eyes matched my own.
“Yes.”
She dropped the book and squeezed her arms around my middle. I hadn’t realized this meant so much to her. Which terrified me. I didn’t want to let her down. I could tell she’d already started to like Maine, and Mickey, and being miles and miles away from the drama of Pecan. I liked it all too. More and more each day. What if it didn’t work out here? What if we had to go back to Pecan? I shoved that awful thought from my mind. It was much easier to live in the moment and not worry about how long it would take for Mickey ‘the cheating bastard’ to grow tired of us.
“Let’s go. We need to get on the road if we want to make it to Connecticut in time for this game.” I rolled my eyes—still unsure if I even wanted to go to the game. Mickey wasn’t even playing in it, so what was the point?
By the time we hurried home, changed clothes, packed a few things, and set off it was getting late. The GPS on Mickey’s truck said three hours—but it ended up taking almost five. It rained and we hit a butt load of traffic. We missed the game, by a long shot, and I was completely drained by the time I dragged myself, while carrying a sleeping Samantha, to the front desk to check in.
I still hadn’t turned my phone on. I’d gone online last week and paid the bill with the last of the money in my bank account. I’d even found an old charger that matched my phone in one of Mickey’s drawers in his kitchen. But I hadn’t turned it on simply because I didn’t want to hear from my mom or anyone back in Pecan. Hopefully no one had reported us missing to the cops or anything like that—but it was super nice living in this cozy little Maine bubble without any of the responsibility from my Pecan life. But because I hadn’t turned on the phone, I couldn’t even call Mickey to tell him how late we were.
“Raven Malone,” I told the front desk person. “Mickey—ah, Mick—Jasmine left a key for me to his room. And some tickets, but I believe I’m too late for that.” I adjusted Samantha in my arms, she was getting way too big to be carried like this. My arms felt like they were about to break.
The man behind the counter looked at me funny. “Someone already picked up the key. About an hour ago. Not the tickets though, I still have them here.”
“What do you mean picked up the key?” This guy had to be fucking kidding me.
“A woman.” He paled. “She’s stayed with Mr. Jasmine before. I’ve never gotten her name. I assumed she was Raven—ah, you. Ah, actually, what proof do I have that you are Raven Malone? What if she’s Raven?”
Did he need to see my fucking driver’s license? When he hadn’t bothered asking to see this other woman’s? Oh hell no. The shit was about to hit the fan. I was about drop a serious trailer park mouthful on this poor, unfortunate idiot. When, Mickey of all people, walked up beside me—well, crutched up beside me.
“Hey.” His hair was wet, like he’d recently showered, and he wore sweats and one of his Sea Dogs shirts. “Are you just now getting in?” he asked.
A group of guys, his teammates I assumed, had all just come into the lobby. Aside from the fact that there was some other woman up in his room, he was almost a sight for sore eyes.
“Traffic was bad, and we got a late start,” I muttered.
“I’d offer to carry Samantha if I could.”
He must have noticed me struggling.
“I’ve got her,” I told him. I could have told him about my dilemma, about how there was another woman up in his room at this very moment, but I decided to let this play out. I wasn’t mad at Mickey, he clearly didn’t know, but I was slightly annoyed and slightly curious now about who this other woman might be. Was it the infamous Sandra? I wanted to see her. More so, I wanted to see what Mickey would do when he saw her.
We left the hotel desk person—who only looked baffled and confused now—and walked for the elevators. “How was the game?” I asked.
“Fine. We won. How was the drive—I mean, other than the traffic?”
“Wet. It rained.”
I said nothing else as we waited on the elevator and then stepped inside. His eyes were on me. I avoided eye contact. I think he knew something was up, but he didn’t say anything. We made it to his room and he put in the key card, opening the door.
Dim lights and candles everywhere. Rose petals coating the bed and shaped into a giant heart on the floor. Kenny G instrumental music soothingly playing. And a naked, beautiful blonde sprawled out on the bed. Super sprawled. Enough to make even me blush. Yikes. I swallowed hard, turning my back to her and keeping Samantha away. Samantha still slept, but in case she woke up I didn’t want her seeing this.
It was kind of romantic. And as much as I thought it would be a funny joke as we came up the elevator, my heart suddenly ached. Whoever she was she cared for Mickey. She’d stayed with him at this hotel before. She’d put a ton of effort into this gesture for him. More effort than I’d ever put into anything for a man.
“Holy shit.” Mickey swore under his breath. I couldn’t tell if it was a good swear or a bad swear.
“I saw a Twix in the vending machine by the elevators.” My words poured out fast. “Pretty sure it had my name written on it. Want me to go eat it in the lobby...slowly?” If he told me yes it was going to crush my heart. I stared at him, waiting on his answer.
“What are you talking about? No.”
Samantha shifted in my arms. “Yeah…Well, I’m going to go get that Twix now. You have fun here.”
No chance in hell I planned on sticking around a moment longer. I took off in a brisk walk, as brisk as the weight of Samantha holding me down would allow, back down the hall. The vending machine wasn’t far, and in its own little alcove with the ice machine. I went up to the machine. Dammit, there was no Twix.
I heard a door close—possibly the door to Mickey’s room.
Thinking for a moment he’d gone inside with her, I rested my head against the glass of the vending machine. I was upset and too tired for this. At least Samantha hadn’t woken up.
“What are you doing?” came Mickey’s voice.
He suddenly stood there beside me. He’d ditched his crutches and had walked on his damn foot again. He rested his arm on the glass above my head, staring down at me. A small gasp left my lips as I looked up at him, startled by his sudden presence. Samantha’s little head popped up as a result of it.
“Where are we?” she whispered, her voice groggy with sleep.
“At the hotel,” I told her softly. “Keep sleeping.”
She rested her head back against my shoulder, but her eyes were open now.
Mickey’s chest rose and fell as he watched me. I could tell he had lots to say—there was so much emotion and maybe a little bit of fear on his face. I could tell he wasn’t saying any of it because of Samantha. Really, though, the only thing that mattered was that he was standing here with me and not in the hotel room with the other girl. It said it all. I didn’t need any more confirmation than that.
“Sorry, sweetie,” I whispered against Samantha’s hair, setting her down. “You’re too heavy. I need you to stand for second.” She groaned a little but let me set her on her feet. Any second now she’d get her second wind, and she’d probably be up all night because of this.
The moment she was out of my arms, I stood on my toes, cupping Mickey’s face gently with one hand, and I pressed my lips to his. His eyebrows raised in question. I surprised even myself. I didn’t give away kisses easily. I certainly never gave them away in front of Samantha. I just…needed to kiss him. It wasn’t because of the other girl, as some competition with her, or some way of staking my territory. No…it was simp
ler than that. I simply needed to kiss him, to feel his mouth again mine, to taste him, and experience the spark inside that his kisses kept warranting. It had been way too many hours since I’d seen him last, and maybe I’d missed him.
“You’re not mad,” he said against my mouth.
“No.” I pulled away. “Stop walking on your foot though—I’m a little mad about that. It’s never going to heal.” I glanced down at Samantha. She had the biggest cheese-eating grin on her face.
Oh God. I only shook my head. What had I done?
“Can you just go take care of that woman, please? Sandra or whoever she is. I’m tired.” I glanced up at him, a little bitchiness in my voice, though I hadn’t meant for it to be there. “And can I have a dollar—for the vending machine. We never stopped for dinner. Pretty please. I’m so hungry I’m feeling weak.” I forced somewhat of a smile even though I was too exhausted to smile.
Mickey didn’t hesitate, pulling his wallet from his pocket, handing the few dollars he had inside it over to me. “Sorry, I never carry cash, that’s all I have.” It was more than enough. “And that wasn’t Sandra, just a girl I hook up with sometimes when we play the Yard Goats.”
Whoever named all these teams must have hated baseball as much as me. Mickey hopped down the hall back to his crutches, then I watched as he went back into the room closing the door behind him. I stared for a moment down the empty hallway.
“Can I get the cookies, Mommy?” Samantha asked, bringing my attention back to her.
“Sure.” I handed over one of Mickey’s dollars.
Fuck me, though. My stomach flopped and it wasn’t from hunger. Mickey might just be more promiscuous than even me. Plus, he was a self-proclaimed cheater. Maybe I hadn’t felt it a couple minutes ago, but an awful twinge of jealousy jolted through me. And a nauseating feeling that I attributed to fact that I knew all of this would end eventually and most likely end badly. I needed to be more careful, or I’d be instore for a world of hurt.
CHAPTER 15:
MICK
“Oh my God, was that your wife and kid?” Callie, the woman who’d literally been spread eagle on my bed a minute ago, asked. She’d blown out a good number of the candles lining the walls in the hotel room, but she’d failed to put her clothes back on. I swallowed hard and leaned my weight on crutches.
Fuck it.
“Yes, that was my wife and kid.”
Callie and I never exchanged personal details about one another so she wouldn’t know otherwise. I didn’t even know her last name. I didn’t care to know it. And vice versa. We had sex occasionally. That was all. Although she’d taken it a bit too far this time by sneaking into my hotel room and setting up whatever the hell she’d set up. It looked like some kind of ‘do-you-want-to-go-to-prom-with-me, marriage-proposal, Valentine’s-Day-threw-up-in-my-room’ thing. It scared the hell out of me. What had scared me more was the look on Raven’s face when she saw it. Nothing in this world frightened me more than fucking up whatever I’d started with Raven.
“I’m so sorry,” she apologized. “I should have called first. Is your wife terribly mad at you?” Callie stopped cleaning and moved a little too close for comfort.
“I’ll deal with it. I just need you to hurry, clean up, and go.”
“So, she’s not that mad.”
“Where are your clothes?”
“In the bathroom. What if—” She placed her hand on my chest, pressing her tits up against me. “What if we still had sex? You can fuck me as fast and as hard as you want. Your wife will never know otherwise. You can just say you were helping me clean everything up.”
“No.”
“Take a moment to think about it.”
“I don’t need a moment.”
Yes, Callie was sexy as hell. And yes, in the past I’d enjoyed being with her. But that didn’t mean I wanted to enjoy her right now. An image of Raven’s pale skin against the mahogany desk in my office flashed across my mind. That was the only image I wanted to hold onto. So suddenly Callie being here, pressing herself up against me, while I was trying to maneuver in these damn crutches no less, breaking into my hotel room unwanted, littering it with all this girly shit, was pissing me off.
“Get dressed,” I told her. “I don’t want to see you again after today.”
I crutched for the door, swung it open, and left her in the room. I took big strides for the vending machine. Raven and Samantha were still there, sitting on the floor, eating snacks. “How’s it going?” Raven asked me through a mouthful of Snickers. Stands of her black hair were falling in her face. Her eyes were wide and unsure as she stared up at me. She kept looking at me like that—like she too was waiting on me to go try something with Callie.
“Not good. I’m going to go downstairs and demand another room. Come with?”
“Good idea.” She stood up. Samantha did too. And we all went downstairs.
By the time everything was fixed and we were all settled in a new room, it was well past midnight and my foot was on fire. Raven was right—if I didn’t stay off it and try harder to take care of it then it never was going to heal.
I relaxed on the bed, watching Raven tuck Samantha in under the covers. After, she disappeared into the bathroom.
“Sorry we missed the game,” Samantha said softly after Raven left. “My mom was taking forever at the library. I thought we weren’t going to get to come.”
The library. Raven had been spending a lot of time there it seemed. “It’s okay. You made it. That’s all that matters. Tomorrow we’ll go get breakfast and maybe try to do something touristy. Would you like that?”
She nodded, snuggling into her pillow.
“I’m going to turn the lights off now. Goodnight, kid. Go to sleep, okay?” Ending our conversation, I turned off all but one of the lights. I moved under the covers myself, waiting on Raven to hurry up in the bathroom. Truth be told, my heart pounded. I hadn’t had a second alone with Raven since arriving back at the hotel. I couldn’t read her either. If she was mad about Callie. If she just flat out didn’t care about Callie. It’s hard to say which was worse. She’d kissed me, though—that had been unexpected and had to be a check in the positive column.
Another ten minutes passed. Finally she came out of the bathroom.
Dressed in another one of my shirts, no less. She was such a stubborn person that I started to get the sense that maybe she kept wearing my shirts simply because she didn’t have anything else to wear.
I glanced at Samantha. She’d fallen asleep, sprawled out in the middle of the second bed, while Raven had been in the bathroom. Raven moved to stand at the foot of her bed. I’m not sure what she was doing lingering there—maybe debating which side had more space to crawl into. For someone so little, Samantha had managed to utilize the entire bed.
“Psssst,” I whispered.
Raven glanced at me.
I nodded to the empty space beside me in my bed. I’d already moved over as far as I could.
Raven gave me a look—like hell no. “What would Samantha think?” she muttered.
In a low voice, I answered. “Nothing, she’s sleeping.”
For what felt like forever, Raven stood there debating. It’s not like I was about to try to have sex with her with her daughter in the room or anything like that. I simply wanted her near me. Was that so wrong?
Finally she moved—toward Samantha’s bed.
Okay then. I let out a sigh, rolling into the space I’d wanted for Raven, and turned off the final light. I didn’t bother moving back over. What was the point? But then a second later, I felt Raven’s hands pushing against my side. “Scoot,” she demanded. I scooted, wondering what had made her change her mind. “No touching.”
It was pitch black—not so much as a blinking microwave light to illuminate the space. And I figured, would thirty seconds really hurt anyone? So I took it.
Reaching out for her body, disregarding her ‘no touching rule’ for this small moment, I grabbed her waist and pulled he
r in firmly against me. It felt so good doing so, so long overdue, so much like home it was frightening. Then I kissed her—long, hard, and deep. We’d been sharing all these brief, sweet kisses lately. Those were nice, but right now I needed something a little rougher, something that showed her she was mine, and something that proved to her how invested I was in this. The truth was: I was falling for her. Or maybe more accurately, I’d always been hers and my heart was playing catchup for the all the years we’d lost being separated. Still, I felt like loving her was like walking on eggshells. No pun intended because of my cut foot. But I had to proceed with so much caution or I had this nauseating sense that I might scare her away from me forever.
I broke the kiss. “Goodnight, Raven,” I whispered. Then I rolled away from her—my back to her and several inches between us. I laid still, hugging my edge of the bed, breathing hard, fighting every nerve in my body that told me to turn back around. After some time, the rapid pounding of my heart slowed and my breathing calmed, and I was able to listen to her soft breaths. She’d fallen asleep in the time it took me to settle, and only then did I too fall asleep.
In the morning I woke to an empty, cold space in the bed beside me. Forcing my eyes open, I scanned the room for Raven. Samantha was awake in her bed, but there was no sign of her mother. I cleared my throat, about to ask Samantha where she was, when the door to the hotel room opened with a squeak.
Raven was dressed for the day and had the world’s largest plate of food. Muffins on top of pancakes on top of bacon on top of toast—like the woman had brought it all back to feed a small army.
“I guess you found the free breakfast in the lobby,” I rasped.
“Oh yeah.” She smiled at me. “Look at all this great stuff.” Wow—she sure looked proud of her food hoarding abilities.
“I told her we were going to go get breakfast,” Samantha chimed in. The kid sounded awfully disappointed about not going out for breakfast instead. I couldn’t blame her.
“I told Samantha I’d take you both to go get breakfast,” I confirmed. “Like at a restaurant. Not in the lobby.”
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