Maybe I went a little too far, but something about ruffling her feathers did something to me. Was it wrong of me to want to torture her a little bit? Yes, it was, but she needed to be brought down to earth from the rich heights she normally lived.
Most of the night was her mumbling under her breath and sighing. If it was meant to get to me, it worked. When I finally confronted her and asked what was wrong, she gave me the worst reply. Something so horrible, I knew the rest of the trip would be unbearable.
She said, “Everything is fine.”
When my sister said the same thing to me every so often, I knew it was code for Everything is not fine.
Everything that happened last night was torture. From Bea’s anger to her choice of apparel for bed, to being cold as I tried to sleep with a rock-hard cock.
When I went to bed that night—and by bed, I meant I used a towel as a pillow and slept on the floor with the sheet as my blanket. When I was lying on that hard, cold floor trying to get thoughts of Bea, in her silky nightshirt, out of my head, I realized The Blue Spot would never agree on two hundred thousand dollars for one years’ worth of coffee. They were billionaires, but they hadn’t become wealthy by over-spending on things.
Then what would happen when it was all over and I headed back to Maine without any money to help the business or to help Shelby? That’s when my plan came to me.
Local businesses. There had to be a local coffee shop and possibly a diner in the area. I’d sell to them. But that wasn’t enough money to help my family.
On my way back to Maine, I’d stop by as many coffee shops and diners as I could, expanding the Fire Lake Coffee territory. Maybe over the summer I could do it again, find more places to buy my coffee. It may take some time, but I wouldn’t mind selling it to small business owners.
“I hear you thinking,” Bea said with a Cheerio stuck to the corner of her mouth. I wanted to reach over with my tongue and lick it off.
“How can you hear me thinking? I’m not saying anything.”
She folded her arms and the Cheerio fell. I held back a chuckle as she rapidly wiped at her face. Pulling down the sun visor, she examined her face in the mirror.
“You could have told me I had something on my face.”
“But then you wouldn’t be beautiful.”
She gasped and I let the laughter out.
“I can’t believe you actually . . . No, you know what? I can believe you said something like that to me. That’s all you do is judge. Judge me on where I’m from, how I was raised, and now my appearance. Makes total sense.”
I glanced over at her as she sunk down in her seat with a scowl on her face. Why had I found it adorable when she pouted? My sexual frustration was taking a weird turn.
“Come on. I was only joking. As you discovered yesterday, I am capable of being funny.”
“And an ass. You’re capable of being funny and an ass.”
I nodded. “Maybe that’s why my sister calls me a clown goat. I’m funny and stubborn.”
“Your sister is right. If only she were here on this road trip,” Bea said with a sigh.
We were getting nowhere. Whether we liked it or not, we were stuck together for at least a few more days. It was time for a truce.
“I’m sorry. Your appearance wasn’t improved by the Cheerio, but I will say I thought it adorable.”
There was silence. I winced. Perhaps I shouldn’t have used the word adorable. Shelby was quiet, too. When I looked in the mirror, I saw she was staring at me with wide eyes. Even she thought the word choice a mistake.
“I didn’t mean—”
“No one has ever called me adorable before.”
“Really? Not even when you were a little girl?”
Bea had an air of sophistication about her, which was enhanced by her clothes and self-confidence, but she also had a silly, cute side. How she refused to take no for an answer and tried to relate to people with wild, outrageous stories that were the opposite of relatable. It softened her refined edge.
She shook her head. “No, my mother was too busy dressing my sister and me up in matching dresses. When she wasn’t parading us around her friends like show ponies, she’d whisk us off to our nanny.”
“What about your dad?”
She turned her head quickly to glare at me. “What about my dad?”
Was she angry because I asked about her father? That was strange.
I shrugged. “Did he call you adorable or cute or say stuff like that to you?”
For a moment, I held my breath and glanced back at Shelby. I told Shelby all the time how much I loved her and that she was the sweetest little girl in the world. Even if she couldn’t respond back with words, it didn’t stop me from believing she understood what I said.
I worried as I gazed at Bea, her jaw tightening and her eyes turning to look out the window. What if she didn’t have anyone to tell her how wonderful she was?
I could only imagine what Bea must have been like as a child. The corner of my mouth curled at the thought of a little Bea refusing to take no for an answer and getting into things she shouldn’t.
“No.”
She responded so softly that I thought I misheard her.
“What? I thought I heard you say no.”
“You heard correctly.” She sighed. “My father had bigger things to worry about than telling children how he felt about them.”
I didn’t understand how to respond to that. How could a father not take one moment to tell his daughter that he cared about her?
“Then why did he give you a nice job at his company if he didn’t have time for you?”
She made it sound like his work was more important than his children. If that were true, then he wouldn’t have hired her.
“He didn’t.”
“But—”
“I lied,” she said, and I shook my head.
Did she lie to me about working for Love Foods? I was about to ask for more detail when she continued, “My father didn’t want me working at Love Foods, so I lied to the HR staff. Interviewed and got an entry-level job in marketing. I gave them a fake name.”
I blinked a few times in shock. “Did your brother do the same thing? You said he worked there, too.”
“No. My father hired him right after he graduated from college.”
I took my eyes off the road for a moment and noticed her back was rigid. She didn’t seem comfortable. She was relaxed this whole trip. Even when she was mad at me earlier, she sat in the seat like she was meant to be there, but now, Bea appeared to want to be anywhere but here.
“Then you plan to quit? Is that why you’re doing this for your brother’s investment? I don’t blame you. I don’t know your father, but I wouldn’t want to work—”
“That’s not it at all. I’m doing this to prove to him that I am as capable as my brother is in landing big deals.” Her eyes lightened and the stiffness disappeared. There was an energy about Bea as she spoke.
“That’s why you’re willing to ask for two hundred thousand. It makes you look better to your dad,” I said with a frown.
I could feel her eyes on me. Bea touched my shoulder, and I let her.
“Mica, it’s not that I don’t want to help your coffee company or your family. That’s not it at all. I have to prove that—”
“You don’t have to explain. I’m not mad.”
And I wasn’t. I was sad.
Disappointed that this beautiful, smart, hardworking woman felt the need to go out of her way to show a man who was too blind to see all the wonderful things about his daughter.
I may not have met Mr. Love, but I knew many people like him, one being Shelby’s dad. They didn’t care how wonderful someone was; they had a warped sense of love that made them incapable of seeing the good in people.
ELEVEN
Bea
“Now this is much better than a motel room,” I said as I opened the thick, white velvet curtains to a breathtaking view of a lake and woods beyond.
“It’s so big,” Mica said from behind.
I turned to find him turning in circles on the light gray carpet as he took in our room. The room had white walls with the exception of one large gold-papered wall in the living area, opposite the wall of windows that offered the stunning view. The coffee table and side tables were teal with gold and white décor scattered throughout.
“Where’s the bedroom?” His look of surprise and wonder quickly morphed into disappointment. “We should figure out the sleeping arrangements since we have to share again.”
We arrived twenty minutes ago—well past the two o’clock time that Mica had predicted. It was after five and my stomach rumbled so loud, I thought it would start feasting on itself.
A knock came from the door, preventing me from answering Mica. He held Shelby, so I went to answer.
Upon opening the door, there were three people standing there with clasped hands—two women and a man.
“Good evening, Ms. Love. We’re so glad you could be one of our first guests at The Blue Spot. I hope you find your room to your liking?” the stunningly beautiful woman with a long, dark braid and mesmerizing chocolate eyes said with a smile.
“Yes, it’s wonderful.”
She waved back to the people behind her. “I wanted to introduce you to our nanny staff. I heard you brought a little one with you and wanted to acquaint you with the people who are available to care for the child during your stay.”
“No,” Mica yelled from behind.
I managed to not let Mica’s outburst cause my grin to falter and waved for them to enter. “Please, come in.”
The woman nodded and stepped past me while the other two gave each other a look. I knew that knowing glance. It said, This may not end well.
But they were wrong. Why were they wrong? Because I had spent enough time with Mica that I knew what needed to be said to loosen his control. I may have only met him a week ago, but in that time, I had picked up a few things.
He glared at me as I made my way farther into the room. Mica was in desperate need of loosening that pole lodged in his ass, and I was going to make sure The Blue Spot was the crowbar to his butt-pole.
“I’m Bea, and this is Mica, Shelby’s uncle.”
The woman smiled. She introduced herself and the others. Her name was Sylvie, and the other two were Dan and Gabby. Sylvie was the head of guest relations here at The Blue Spot.
“Since you’re the first guest to bring a child, we were wondering if we might take her for a few hours. Give my staff a chance to implement all they had learned in the past several months from their training,” Sylvie said mainly to me as Mica’s jaw tightened with every word she spoke.
I feared he’d grind his teeth away before the end of the trip.
“That sounds like a great idea. And we can go get dinner and relax. Take in the grounds. What do you think, Mica?”
I placed my hand on his arm, and that snapped him out of whatever rage-filled staring contest he had going on with the other people in the room. He glanced down at me with irritation, but also confusion.
I knew he was hungry. Eating a good meal would do both of us some good.
“Training? What training?” he asked while folding his arms as best he could while holding Shelby, causing my hand to fall away.
“We at The Blue Spot only hire the best. Dan has a master’s in early childhood development, with an emphasis on children with special needs. While Gabby has a bachelor’s in child psychology and spent five years working at Kennedy Krieger in Baltimore before we nabbed her.” Sylvie giggled as the others smiled.
Everyone was smiling except for Mica. Chloe was right. This man was as stubborn as a goat.
“Sounds impressive. I think,” I reached for Shelby and was grateful when Mica released her from his grasp, “Shelby would have the best care. And it’s only for a few hours. We’ll be on the main floor in the Blue Chip restaurant if you need us.”
I placed Shelby in Gabby’s arms and the little girl moved in excitement. Her eyes widened and her arms stretched out.
Dan’s brow pinched together. “Is there anything special we should know about Shelby? Something we need to be made aware of?”
I shook my head and glanced over at Mica. He was staring at Shelby with a frown. He sighed and said, “I, uh . . . she might have cerebral palsy. She hasn’t been tested yet. I mean, there’s a brain scan that needs to be done, but the doctor thinks it might be that. Can you handle it?”
And for the first time since I had met him, Mica appeared worried. Not the type of worry that comes with having a flat tire. No, his expression seemed like he was desperate for help.
Dan smiled. “Of course, we can. Can she eat solids?”
As Mica answered Dan’s questions, I watched Shelby. Was that why she couldn’t walk? I didn’t know the first thing about cerebral palsy, but it hurt to think that Mica was so concerned.
This deal had to go through. I had seen their home. Yes, it was modest and there was nothing bad about that. But I couldn’t help but notice all the things that were broken in the house. When I asked for something to drink and went to open their refrigerator to see if they had sparkling water, Chloe quickly stopped me, explaining that the door was broken.
If they couldn’t afford a new refrigerator, how could they afford that scan for Shelby?
This deal was important to me to prove to my father that I could handle anything thrown at me. But now it became doubly important. Shelby needed extra medical attention, and I wasn’t about to let her go without it.
“See, Mica, they know exactly what to do.” I grabbed his hand and pulled him back as they took Shelby out of our room.
“But she’s my niece. She’s never been away from family before. What if she—”
“If something comes up, they have our cell numbers, and we are in the same building as they are. They can find us. I don’t think anything bad will happen in the few hours that we will be away from her.”
He nodded but kept his eye on the now closed door. I wrapped my arms around him. He loved that little girl as if she was his daughter. It made my heart ache that he could have so much love for one person. And as happy as I was that Shelby had people who cared about her, it hurt to realize that neither of my parents looked at me the way Mica looked at Shelby. Not once in my life had I seen that sort of affection.
I bent over backward for my father’s attention my whole life. Nothing I did was ever good enough. Maybe I hadn’t become invaluable to him. He admired strong-minded and hardworking people. If I pulled this off, with such a large contract, something Konrad had never been able to do, my father would finally look at me the way Mica looked at Shelby.
As I held Mica, he relaxed in my arms. It was nice. He felt luxurious and smelled delightful. That manly scent I loved. Mica was like rubbing up against a firm man pillow, but real.
His hands settled on my back and my nipples hardened. He wasn’t massaging my back, but he wasn’t holding them still, either. His fingers kneaded into just the right spots around my spine and it sent warm shivers straight down between my thighs.
The more he rubbed, the more I snuggled into him. This was good for both of us. I was helping him relax, and he was turning me on.
Wait. My clit twitched at the realization that just giving Mica a hug was making me want to ride his cock. That’s a pretty big leap in foreplay. Going from an innocent hug to playing pop-goes-the-cock.
This man had a body that seemed to be made for me.
But as much as I knew I should take a step back—enough horny hugs for now—I couldn’t. And when I snuggled again, this time with my hips, I felt his hard-on. The man either had a cucumber in his pocket—the size of a prize-winning vegetable due to girth—or he had an erection. I was hungry but not for vegetables.
My hand slid up his back and into his hair. Mica had fantastic hair. Thick and dark auburn and just itching for my fingers to curl into. He groaned. That was good. More relaxation. A healthy dist
raction from his niece with the nanny service.
“Bea,” he whispered straight into my ear.
It felt like the warmest, most erotic word in the world. I tossed my head back when his breath tickled my neck.
“You feel so good,” I said.
Because it was true. He did. I wasn’t going to lie, and I had decided I wasn’t going to stop. Fuck food. I could eat anytime I wanted. Right now, I wanted to explore Mica’s body. And if I was reading him right, he wanted to explore mine as well.
His lips fluttered over the bottom of my neck and continued down until he was unbuttoning the top of my silk gray blouse.
As his hands moved from my back to my breasts, using his masterful fingers to cause my panties to soak even more. I couldn’t hold back my appreciation anymore.
My fingers were no longer running haphazardly through his hair. They were tugging and scraping with purpose.
I wanted Mica. I wanted to rip his clothes off and do so many things to his cock . . . fuckable things.
But right as I was ready to tell him all my thoughts on the matter of his body, he stopped.
Looking down, he wasn’t kissing or unbuttoning, or any number of things he could be doing that would further along the process of mutual satisfaction. Mica was bending over with his hands on his knees. Was he having a heart attack? Did me touching him cause his heart to go into overdrive?
“What’s happening?”
Then he said the words that I never wanted to hear from a man.
“We shouldn’t.”
Yes. Yes, we should. We were two grown adults with bodies that were hot for each other. No children in the room. Just us with hormones and sexual body parts, and we hadn’t even kissed yet.
I couldn’t wait for the kissing. Call me a romantic, but the kissing was one of the best parts. If a guy couldn’t cut it at kissing, then I knew to drop him. But, based on Mica’s finger action, I had a feeling he’d be a wonderful kisser. Maybe even earn a spot in the top three of best kissers.
“You’re right. That was foolish of us.”
What was I saying? As the heat between my legs began to cool, my brain was stirring. And I hated how logical my brain could be.
Lost and Found (books 1-3): Small-Town Romantic Comedy Page 52