by Natalie Wild
“What’s the matter with you?” Blaine asked, incredulous. “I want you to come with me.”
“If you want to be with me,” Mia said, “stay here.”
“That’s not fair, Mia. I’m telling you, this tournament is a dream opportunity.”
She turned on her heels and called over her shoulder as she left. “Your choice.”
*
When Mia got into her car, her hands seemed to be working of their own accord. She scrolled through the favorites list on her phone. Her mind raced.
This has all been too perfect, she thought. He’s had his fun, now he’s leaving. He probably doesn’t really want me to come with him, anyway. Asking me to go makes him seem like a nice guy. And again, over and over in her head, Why would a man like that want me? Really want me? Why, why, why?
She hit Jeff’s number. The phone rang once and he picked up. “Hey. You remembered me.”
Mia cut to the chase. “Do you want to come over so we can talk?”
“Uh—I was about to go for a run—but yeah. Like right now?”
“I’m on my way home. Meet me in fifteen minutes.”
“Okay, sure,” Jeff said. “I’m really glad you called—“
“See you soon.” Mia ended the call and stepped on the gas.
She beat Jeff to her apartment by only ten minutes. She took the time to put on deodorant and lipstick, but her prep ended with the basics. She let him in, and asked him if he wanted something to drink. The decorum seemed weird. After all, less than a month ago, this man had practically lived at her place. She got a diet Coke for Jeff and joined him on the couch. Mia at one end, Jeff at the other. They were like offensive and defensive lines preparing for a fourth down attempt. Jeff wore flip-flops and an old fraternity tee shirt. His shaved head fairly glowed in the lamplight.
Mia found she wanted to laugh, or maybe cry. He’s such a child. A child with a bald, shiny head. He couldn’t be more opposite to Blaine.
Bald or not, Jeff had a great smile. He used it on her now. “It’s so good to see you.”
Mia pushed aside her comparisons and focused on Jeff, right in front of her. “You too. What did you want to talk about?”
“I made a mistake, Mimi,” he said. “I miss you. We had our problems, but ours was still the best relationship I’ve ever had.”
“Hmmm,” she said.
“I’ve been out some over the past couple weeks. You know—went on a few dates and chatted with some girls in the bars—“
She rolled her eyes. Jeff’s comment was more annoying than heartbreaking. This is stupid, she thought. Why am I wasting my time talking to him?
“Don’t roll your eyes, Mimi,” he said. “You’ve been out with other people. Hell, I saw you with that big GQ dude out by the lake.”
Mia giggled. Blaine was a big GQ dude. A smart, successful GQ dude. A real man. Not to mention kind and gentle and funny—
Jeff was still talking. “…I just think we should give it a try. See if we can work it out, you know? It was real sweet how you booked that fishing charter. Maybe we can go together.” He scooted toward her on the couch.
“Uh…I don’t know—”
His leg was brushing hers. Suddenly Mia realized that the last thing she wanted was for Jeff to touch her. Panic set in. What if she’d blown it with Blaine? Maybe she needed to call him… at least talk through the St. John thing. “Sorry, Jeff—I don’t think—” Her phone dinged, distracting her again. She just had time to see Blaine’s name on the screen before Jeff kissed her.
He stuck his tongue in her mouth. She pulled away, but not before he managed to grind his lips into hers. She shoved him, hard, on his chest. “Stop it, now. This is over.”
“Mia—” Jeff’s lip trembled, and Mia had time to wonder why any display of sensitivity on Blaine’s part turned her on, but Jeff’s show of feeling left her disgusted and somewhat sorry for him.
“You need to leave,” she said. “Right now.”
His face darkened. “Aren’t we talking?”
She stood. “I should never have let you come over here. It’s a waste of both our time. And I have stuff to do. I have to leave, actually.” Mia prayed Blaine was still at home, or that he’d at least answer her phone call. The thought that he own insecurity had caused her to ruin what they had terrified her.
Jeff laughed. “You’re running back to Mister GQ?” He stood up and grabbed his wallet. “I’m no homo, but I’m also not blind. A dude like that? What’s he want with a girl like you? He’s probably run off to Miami already and found himself a model.”
Mia gritted her teeth and refused to let Jeff stoke her insecurities. “He’s not just any dude like that. He’s different.”
“Whatever, Mia. Good luck. Don’t come crying to me when he dumps you on your ass.”
“It couldn’t be much worse than when you dumped me on my ass. Although, now I feel like that’s the best thing that could have happened to me.”
“Right. Guess I made a good decision.” He opened the apartment door.
*
Blaine sat in stunned silence after Mia left his condo. He didn’t understand what had just happened. He’d asked her to come with him, and she’d not only turned him down, it seemed like she’d broken it off with him.
He wondered the condo aimlessly for a few minutes. He moved piles of papers and picked up bits of lint and rewashed a few dishes. What did I do wrong?
His phone rang, and in his distraction he answered it before reading the name. Candice’s voice on the other end didn’t improve his mood.
“I finally caught you!” his ex-wife said. “Where have you been?”
“Sorry,” he said. “Busy. Offshore a lot with no reception.”
“Oh, well…” Candice launched into her spiel about the massage parlors. Blaine tuned her out. Mia’s angry face kept running through his head.
“…so it’s a sure thing! Really lucrative. And I promise, this time I’ll hire a financial advisor. Please, Blaineee…. Please?”
“I—What?” He rubbed his eyes. “Candice—I don’t know—“
He could almost see her pouty face. Her collagen puffy lips and her blinking blue eyes. “You’re not listening to me,” she said.
“I’ve got a lot on my mind. I’m having some—some problems.”
Candice took a deep breath that Blaine could hear through the phone, across the three thousand miles that separated California from Florida. “Business problems?”
“No.”
“Boat problems?”
“No.”
“Hmmm…your parents harassing you to come back to the UK?”
“No! Don’t worry about it.”
“Ah,” said Candice. Blaine remembered that while Candice was materialistic and irresponsible, she wasn’t stupid. “Woman problems?” she asked.
Blaine wasn’t sure why he answered her, except for the fact that she and Mia were both women, and at least Candice could relate to the crazed XX chromosomal arrangement. Blaine started at the beginning, with Mia showing up on his boat and puking her guts out, and continued until her got to her abrupt departure that afternoon. “So now, I have no idea what I did to make her so upset, or what to do to fix it.”
Candice was silent, and Blaine thought the call had failed. “Hello?” he said.
“I’m here,” Candice said. “It’s just sort of weird to hear you talk about another woman.”
Maybe she did have some kind of feeling for him at some point. There was a bit of a relief in that. He’d convinced himself that Candice had seen him as nothing more than a meal ticket. “Sorry—if you don’t want to hear it—”
“No—it’s okay. Here’s my advice. You freaked her out by asking her to come with you. She’s probably totally intimidated by the kind of people she imagines you know down there. I was.”
“You were?”
“Yeah. And honestly, Blaine, a guy like you is almost too good to be true. Maybe she’s afraid of getting in too deep and gett
ing hurt.”
“I don’t want to hurt her. I want to take care of her.”
“Well, sometimes you hurt people without meaning to.”
Now it was Blaine’s turn to go silent. “I—I’m sorry. It never seemed like it really mattered to you.”
Candice cleared her throat. “It did. I’m just not one to show it. Besides, my lawyer told me to go for the jugular. So I did.”
Blaine grunted. In addition to having a measure of intelligence, Candice was a survivor. “Right.”
“Look, if you can help me out with the massage parlors, let me know. In the meantime, go find this girl. Talk to her. Convince her you’re not going anywhere. She’ll come around.”
“Okay,” Blaine said. “I will. And Candice…”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks. I needed a woman to explain a woman.”
*
When Jeff opened the door to Mia’s apartment and started to storm out, she followed him. She was ready to slam the door behind him as soon as he got out of her way. She was already thinking about brushing her teeth and washing her face. She wanted to rinse Jeff’s spit from her mouth. Her hair was messy and she had lipstick smeared all over her mouth and down her chin.
Jeff paused in the open doorway. Mia came up behind him, ready to push him out the door, until she saw that someone stood on the other side.
Blaine stared at her over Jeff’s shoulder. His chest rose and fell and his chin jutted.
Jeff smirked. “Ha, looks like someone is here to pick up my leftovers.” He brushed past Blaine and clipped down the building’s open staircase.
“Blaine—” Mia said. She rubbed at her mouth. Damnit, she thought. Why did I even put on lipstick? “Blaine, this isn’t what it looks—”
Blaine didn’t answer. He turned and stalked down the stairs.
Wild Lover Book 3
Mia ducked back into her apartment for a pair of flip-flops before following Blaine. Unlike him, she preferred to wear shoes, especially since she’d gotten a pedicure the day before. By the time she caught up to him in the parking lot, he had one hand on the door handle of his rented truck.
“Wait!” she cried. “Please, Blaine. Wait.”
He paused, his mouth a thin line of resentment. “What, Mia?”
She started to open her mouth, but he beat her to it and answered his own question.
“There’s not much to be discussed,” Blaine said. “I come over here to try and convince you to come to St. John with me—” He laughed, as if he was remembering a mission that should have been declared impossible before it commenced. “—and I find you all hot and bothered with your ex-boyfriend. You wanted me to be honest with you. You could have returned the favor.”
“Seriously, Blaine,” Mia said. “It’s not what you think.”
“That’s such a cliché. Why didn’t you just tell me you were thinking about going back to him? I could have saved myself the embarrassment of trying to convince you to go with me.”
“I don’t want—”
“It’s so obvious. Your story about your parents disapproving?” He laughed again, and even in his bitterness she’d never seen a more handsome man. “I can’t believe I fell for that.”
“Stop, I don’t want—“
“No hard feelings.”
Mia felt as if her head were going to explode if he interrupted her one more time. “Will you please stop talking?” She balled her hands into fists at her side. “Please! Let me get a word in edgewise?”
“Miss?” said an unfamiliar voice from behind her. She turned to see an elderly couple, no doubt retirees from Detroit or Pittsburgh. The man continued. “Or—senorita? Is everything alright?”
She forced a smile, and admonished herself for screaming in the middle of the complex’s parking lot. She didn’t exactly need to add police intervention to the list of crap she was dealing with today. “Oh, yes. Thank you.”
The man raised his eyebrows and took his wife by the arm. Mia heard him muttering as he got into the car. “Latinos…”
Normally his racial profiling would have caused Mia to read him the riot act, but instead she read it to Blaine. “If you’d listen to me for five seconds I could explain what happened. You’re convinced I’ve done something horrible without even getting the facts.”
Blaine took a deep breath and crossed his arms over his chest. He didn’t look convinced, but she took his nod as a hint to continue. “Jeff has been bugging me to talk about our breakup. I’ll be honest, as confused as I was when I left your place earlier, I thought I should hear him out.”
“Exactly,” said Blaine. The smug look on his face irked Mia.
“So… as I was saying… he came over to talk. As soon as he arrived I knew it was a mistake. He wanted to try to work things out. All I could think about was how I might have ruined everything with you by storming out.”
Blaine hung his arms at his sides and looked up at the clear blue sky above them.
“I told him he had to leave. He tried to kiss me—” She decided to be brutally honest. “Well—he succeeded. It was like—like a stealth kiss.”
He cracked the tiniest hint of a smile. “Like MI5.”
“What?” she asked.
“CIA. Brit version.”
“Oh—right. Like MI5. I pushed him away, but he didn’t go at first, I guess. Hence the clown makeup.” She pointed at his mouth, which was probably still covered in smeary lipstick. No wonder the old couple thought she was trouble.
“I told him to leave,” she said. “He was going when you arrived. He was in my apartment for a total of like twenty minutes. So I stormed out on you earlier, and now you’re storming out on me. Should we call it even, or just keep this up?”
Blaine leaned against the truck. He ran his hands through his hair. “Look Mia,” he said, “I’m crazy about you. I think you’re amazing. But all this back and forth… yes…no… it’s driving me crazy. I’m not a masochist.”
“You’ve had your own back and forth,” she said. She’d always let Jeff blame all their relationship problems on her, and she wasn’t going to make that mistake again.
“I know, I’m just as at fault. It just seems like we’re both bringing so much baggage to this situation. I’ve only been divorced for six months, and that took the mickey out of me.”
“The mickey?”
Blaine smiled, and to Mia’s relief it seemed genuine.
“Sometimes I forget my English can be just as confusing to you as your Spanish would be to me,” he said. “It’s just a phrase we use in the UK. It means, like, to take the fight out of someone. My last divorce exhausted me. I just want peace.”
Mia closed the space between them. “I understand. But I still think it’s worth trying.”
He opened his arms and she fell into them. Heat radiated off his body, and even off the truck’s black paintjob. In a weird paradox, the warmth made her shiver. “What about St. John?” he asked. “I don’t want to spend five weeks away from you. Not when we’re just getting started.”
Mia closed her eyes and breathed in his smell. Aftershave and something he’d been cooking… maybe grilled steak. “Yes,” she said. “Yes to St. John.”
He tilted her chin toward his face and kissed her. “It will be worth it. We’re going to have an amazing time.”
She spoke between kisses. “I hope so. As long as you don’t expect me to go offshore. I don’t think there’s enough Dramamine in the world to keep my tummy from rebelling out in the middle of the ocean.”
“That’s a deal,” he said. “We’ll keep you on land as much as possible.”
So the decision is made, Mia thought. One problem down. Blaine promised he’d humor her need to be a landlubber. Another problem down. The biggest problem awaited, however. Mia sent her mother a text.
Hey mom, I need to talk to you about something.
*
“Aye, Mimi,” said Mama Maria. “You’ve lost it. Loco.”
Mia and her mom sat at
a table at their favorite coffee shop, but neither had touched their lattes. Maria wore a cute blue sundress that complimented her tan skin. Mia took a moment to marvel at her mother’s youthfulness and pray it was genetic.
“Mom,” Mia said. “Please just hear me out.”
“Where will you sleep? Where will he sleep? Who will pay for all this?” She tsk-tsk’ed. “You know what a man will be expecting…if you go live with him on a boat for a month. No. Your father won’t allow it.”
“You have to convince him!”
“I don’t allow it either! We don’t know this man. He could be a kidnapper. Or a drug dealer.”
Mia knew her mother had a flare for the dramatic, but that was taking it a bit far. “We know he’s not a drug dealer. He’s Blaine Daniels. Software mogul. You were the one who figured out who he was in the first place, with all your snooping around and your man-hungry friends.”
“Perhaps we should go to Mass. Consult with the pastor afterward.”
“That’s absurd! We already know what he would say.”
“Exactamente. And he’d be right.” Maria finally took a sip of her coffee, as if the priest at their local church was the final word on daughters, morality and parenting in general.
Mia kept a hold on her temper. That would get her nowhere. She needed to make Maria feel like she came to her own conclusion. Mia quickly came up with a way to do just that. “Will you at least meet him? He’s been asking to meet you.” Not exactly true, but Mia was banking on Blaine’s desire for her to come with him to St. John. Maybe it was early to meet the family, but it was also early to go on a month long vacation.
“Hmmm,” Maria said. “I don’t see how it can hurt.”
“Great. We can have a glass of wine on his boat.”
“Is it a yacht?” Maria’s eyes widened, and Mia felt she was getting somewhere already.
“No, but it’s as valuable as a yacht.” She proudly rattled off the information that Blaine had given her about his charter fishing boat. “It’s a Grady White. Thirty-four feet. You don’t get much nicer than that.”