Her Sexiest Mistake (23 page)

You have nothing to prove to me.

The hell I don’t. You’ve been saving my sorry ass for too long, and I’ve let you because, well, I guess I liked you feeling guilty. But I can’t get my own life together if you’re the one running it, and I want my life together. I want Tess.

Kevin stared at him, saw the real regret and honesty and frustration in his brother’s eyes, and for the first time felt a true surge of hope.
What are you going to tell her?

The truth, for a change. That I’ve been working my way through any woman I could get my hands on, trying to feel better about myself and my screwed up life. That until she came along I never felt whole.

Kevin nodded, thinking how much he’d love to hear such things from Mia.
You might have to be patient.

I’m willing to put the time in.
Mike smiled, then walked off the court, leaving Kevin to wonder if he’d really get his happily-ever-after.

Or, for that matter, if Kevin would. He grabbed his bag, and when he turned around, his gaze locked on Mia.

She stood on the other side of the fence, on the path that would take her to her house, wearing some knockout business suit dress that made his tongue waggle and his heart hurt.

She looked like a million bucks, even as her eyes narrowed on him, her mouth opening in a little O of distress as she came through the gate. “What the hell have you done to yourself?”

He touched his lip and his fingers came away bloody. “Just a little cut.” He bent to pick up his duffle bag and sucked in a breath when the pain stabbed into his ribs.

“What’s the matter?” she demanded and put a hand on his arm.

“Nothing.” He managed a smile, and sweating all over again—and not entirely because of his injuries—he headed out the gate, dragging his bag instead of picking it up.

Dragging his ass, too.

Her heels clicked on the asphalt as she followed at his side. “You’re hurt.”

“Part of the game.” She smelled like heaven. He wanted her, of course; he always wanted her. But oddly enough, while dragging her into the woods and shoving up that hot, short skirt had plenty of appeal, he wanted other things, too. Her smiling, for one. Her happy, talking, laughing. Just being. With him.

Idiot.
You can’t fix…
“You’re dressed up.”

“I worked a new job today.”

“That’s great,” he said and meant it. “What—” He broke off when he tried to shoulder his bag, because the sharp pain stabbing into his ribs made it impossible to do anything else.

She made a soft sound of distress as she reached for him, but he gritted his teeth and shook his head. “I’m fine,” he managed, not wanting her hands on him. That would only make things worse. “Nothing a shower can’t cure.” He lengthened his stride ahead of her, gritting his teeth as he took the three stairs toward his front door, each jarring his ribs.

“Kevin—”

“Yeah, I gotta go. I’ll see you, okay?” He shut the door, dropped the bag and the pretense, and sagged back against the wood.

M
ia stared at Kevin’s front door. He’d dismissed her.
Unbelievable.
Well, guess what? She was done with being dismissed. She’d spent the afternoon working Cookie Madness for all it was worth, and she’d kicked some serious ass. She had big news and—other than Tess, who already knew—no one to share it with.

At least no one to get naked and share it with.

That’s when she’d had her epiphany—and better late than sorry, right? She’d been wrong to hold back, wrong to let her past and fears stand in her way, and she wanted Kevin to know it.

Damn it.

She lifted her fist to knock, but decided the hell with that. They were way past knocking, so instead she turned the handle and pushed. She felt a resistance, then heard a pained “Oomph.”

“Hello?”
She pushed again, then realized Kevin himself must be leaning on the door. “Kevin?”

“Yeah.”

Slipping inside the crack, she found him sitting against the wood, pale and sweaty. “Damn it.” She put her hands on her hips rather than hover over him like the worried hen a small part of her wanted to be. “Let’s go.
Now.
”

“Sorry, honey.” Brow damp, he shot her a weak smile. “I don’t think I can do you right now. I’ve got to—”

“Doctor,” she said through her teeth. “I meant I’m taking you to a doctor.”

“Not necessary.” Getting up
very
carefully, he moved to the base of the stairs, then just stared up at them in dismay.

“Oh, for God’s sake.” She dropped her briefcase and moved forward, slipping a hand around his waist. His skin felt hot to the touch, and damp. “Did you break a rib?”

“Nah.”

He was holding his breath as they took the stairs, she noticed with concern, and now looked a little bit green. “I still think we should—”

“Wow, I must have hit my head, because I thought you just said we.”

“Kevin—”

But he just walked through his bedroom and into his bathroom, slowly pulling off his shirt. “Start the shower?” he asked her.

She cranked it to what she knew was his personal favorite—scalding.

He kicked off his shoes with the slow, purposeful movements of the very drunk or the very injured, and she got mad again because mad was easier. “Damn it, Kevin, you need a doctor.”

“Shh,” he said, then toed off his socks.

“Look, I’m dragging your ass straight to the ER.”

He shoved off his shorts, then stood in front of the mirror inspecting his lip.

Because she was human, her gaze took a tour of his rock hard body. Long, powerful legs. Fantastic ass. Lean hips. Smooth, sleek back.

Coming up behind him, she put her hands on his already bruised ribs. Beneath her hands, his muscles leapt. He hissed out a breath.

She met his gaze in the mirror. “Sit.” Gently pushing him onto the closed commode, she grabbed a towel, wet it, then dabbed at his lip.

He winced.

She scowled, and dabbed some more. Damn it, she was not good at this coddling shit. She dabbed again and his hand came up and caught her wrist.

“I’m fine,” he said.

She tossed the towel aside in frustration and glared at him. “Great. You’re fine.”

Slowly, holding his breath, he stood again and put his hands on her arms. “And you’re not.”

Hey, she was perfectly great, just because apparently she couldn’t even show him how she felt.
What was wrong with her?
How was it she’d not gotten the gene to do this—to love?

She tried to turn away and he stopped her. “What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong?” She tossed up her hands and let out a laugh that didn’t fool either of them. “Are you kidding? Nothing’s wrong. I’m damn perfect.” With a rough sound she pushed him into the shower. Then she left the bathroom. She felt the urge to fix him something, something to eat or drink…something.

She loved him.

She loved him, and she was afraid even that wouldn’t be enough and she’d be left with this huge gaping hole in her chest. She was going to break an ankle on his stairs, but she didn’t care as she rushed down them and into the kitchen, then looked around her wildly. What could she make him? She looked at the counter, at the table.

He’d taken her there.

The counter, too, and on the floor, in that amazing storm.

“Oh, damn,” she whispered, throat thick, and sat right there on the floor, folding into herself, putting her forehead to her knees as she did the grown-up thing.

She burst into tears.

The house creaked, and she lifted her head, gasping at the two feet right in front of her. Long legs hunkered, and then Kevin’s face appeared. Reaching out, he touched her wet cheek. “What’s this?”

Sniffing, she wiped her nose on her arm. “Allergies.”

He gave her a long look. He’d pulled on fresh basketball shorts but was still wet. Lip still bleeding, his eyes were warm and concerned and filled with things that caught her breath. “Mia.”

She closed her eyes. “Something blew in my eye.”

“Why can’t you admit it? That maybe you need to lean on someone else for comfort once in a damn while?”

She lifted her chin at that. “The only comfort I need is the occasional orgasm.”

“I hate to break it to you, but you like it more than occasionally. As studly as I like to think I am, I can hardly keep up.”

She snorted and swiped at her nose again. “You keep it up better than any other—” She broke that thought off, thinking that had probably been 5-1-1. Too much information.

But he went down to his knees, a motion that made him wince, then slid his fingers into her hair and not so lightly tugged her head back so he could look into her eyes. “Better than anyone else? Is that what you were going to say?”

“No.”

“God, you are such a liar.”

The back door of the kitchen opened, and suddenly people poured in. Tess, Mike, Hope, all carrying grocery sacks.

“I need help,” Tess said, actually sounding close to tears herself as she took over the kitchen without taking a good look at Mia. “I have to come up with one hundred pounds of dough tonight—”

“Tess,” Mia managed. “We’re in the middle of—”

“I’m sorry, Mia, but you got me into this mess and I can’t screw it up now!” Tess helped herself to the kitchen cabinets, barking out directions. “Grab bowls and start mixing! The sooner we do this, the sooner we can all get back to our regularly programmed evening.”

Hope dug right in.

Mike dug right in.

Mia stood there, watching Kevin.
Damn it!
She had so much to say…

“Get busy!” Tess demanded.

Mike set the bowl down and signed something.

“Slave driver,” Kevin translated for him, looking fine with the interruption, of course, because he
was
fine. He didn’t have an epiphany to share!

Tess waggled her brows at Mike. “That’s right, baby, and keep it moving. I’ll reward
you
later.” She planted one quick smacking kiss on his lips.

“Hey,” Kevin protested when she passed him, no kiss.

“Sorry.” Grinning, she backed up and gave him a smacking kiss just to the right of his cut lip.

Mia knew it was silly and irrational and childish, but the green monster bit her on the ass.

“Now
that’s
what I’m talking about,” Kevin said with a smile.

Mike shoved his shoulder, leaving a white flour handprint on Kevin’s bare skin.

Kevin eyed it, but Tess quickly stepped in between them, laughing. “No wrestling in here. I mean it! You can fight over me later.”

Mike nodded. Worked for him.

Kevin began cracking eggs.

Mia tried to be just as cavalier, but casual and cavalier weren’t her strong suits, and she’d never been so aware of another person in her life. Every move Kevin made she caught. Every smile, every egg he cracked with those long, talented fingers…He still had that flour handprint on him, which should have looked ridiculous but didn’t. He had at least a day’s growth of beard on his jaw, and she wanted to rub hers to it. She wanted to feel his mouth on hers.

She wanted him to hold her, tight, so that she could feel the steady, secure beat of his heart beneath her ear. But more than anything, she just wanted to be with him.

God, she had it bad. Bad, bad, bad.

Behind her Hope had gotten serious about the measuring, pointing out to Mike that he had enough flour.

“You’re hired,” Tess said. “Seriously.”

Hope blinked. “Really? I can work for you?” She looked at Mia. “Can I?”

Mia looked into her eager eyes and felt another tug.
Damn it!
All these strings on her heart! Somehow she smiled past the lump in her throat. “For as long as you—”

“Stay.” Hope looked down at her flour-covered hands. “Yeah.”

Mia’s gaze caught on Kevin’s.

He was looking at her with understanding and empathy, and she had to turn away rather than lose it.
God.
She couldn’t take it, she just couldn’t. She was losing everything, and everyone.

Hope touched her finger to Mia’s nose and left a flour print. “Pretty.”

Mia narrowed her eyes. “You didn’t just do that.”

Hope arched a cocky brow.

Mia dipped her fingers into the flour and took a step toward the kid, but Tess stepped in between them as she had Mike and Kevin. “I swear it, I’m going to start cracking the whip!”

Behind Tess’s back, Hope stuck her tongue out at Mia. “Out of my way, Tess,” Mia said.

“No! Now I have to create four hundred more orders by the weekend. I don’t have staff. I don’t have space. You goaded me into this, Mia Appleby, and our new place isn’t ready yet. I’m a half inch from a spectacular breakdown that, believe me, you don’t want to see, so—”

“New place?” Kevin asked.

Tess looked at Mia. “We invested in a building. Mia didn’t tell you?”

Mia shook her head. Not yet, she hadn’t.

Tess sighed. “We’re leasing part of the building to Cookie Madness. The other part—”

“Later,” Mia said and begged Tess with her eyes. “I’ll tell you all later.” It was important she tell Kevin herself, alone. Important that she do it right this time, preferably no audience. “After I cover Hope in flour—”

“Oh, no,” Tess said. “Kiss and makeup right now or I’ll make you do dishes.”

“I don’t do dishes,” Mia said.

Tess didn’t look like she cared if Mia wanted to do dishes or not, and Mia sighed. “Okay, fine.
Sorry,
” she said to Hope.

“And I’m sorry about how ridiculous you look with flour on your nose,” Hope said, tilting up her chin.

“Kiss,”
Tess demanded.

“Can’t,” Hope said. “She’s not big on PDA.”

“That’s true.” Kevin cracked an egg with more force than necessary, and shame filled Mia. And sadness.

And more regret than she could have put words to.

Hope was looking at her with a daring expression, and that was it. Mia grabbed the little monster and kissed her noisily first on one cheek, then the other, then ruffled her hair with her flour-covered hands. “There. I’ve covered some of the black.”

“When I leave, you’ll not have to ever see black again.”

“Thank God,” Mia said with a fervor she didn’t come close to feeling.

“Yeah, no kidding,” Hope seconded toughly. “I can’t wait to get out of here. No one complaining about my music or my favorite color.”

“No one leaving entire boxes of donuts in the house.”

“No one harping on my curfew.”

“No one cramping my style.”

Mia looked at her.

Hope looked back.

Mia thought if she had to come up with one more thing, she was going to burst into tears right there. “Actually, I take back the donuts part.”

“I knew it. You
did
eat them.”

“Every last one,” Mia said and heard the catch in her own voice.
Ah, hell.
“And I guess I should tell you…rap is growing on me.”

“No.”

“I think 50 Cent is a hottie.”

Hope clapped a hand over her mouth, but the giggle escaped anyway, along with a tear. “I like it when you harp on my curfew. It means you care.”

“Well, then I must care a helluva lot. I know you have to go, but I was hoping next summer—”

“
Yes!
And Christmas?”

“And Thanksgiving. I’ll send plane tickets for every holiday.”

Hope let out another laughing sob. “My mom—”

“I’ll handle Sugar. I’ll do whatever it takes.”

Hope nodded and hugged Mia hard, streaking her black mascara and eyeliner mixed with the flour on her Dolce & Gabbana, and Mia didn’t even care.

“I’m sorry,” Tess said softly, hugging them both. “This is good. But we
have
to finish. I
have
to deliver.”

Kevin’s gaze touched on Mia’s features, soft and warm for that one moment, as if he was happy for her. And proud of her for sharing her feelings.

Her throat burned, her heart ached. She wanted to tell him to sit down for this one, because there was more, much more that she wanted to share, but Tess the drill sergeant was standing over her.

“Resume duties!”

Grinding her teeth, Mia took a bowl from Tess and began mixing.

“Yikes.” Tess looked into the bowl. “Honey, you have to commit to mixing—you can’t just go halfway.”

“She’s not that great at committing,” Hope said, smiling at her own quip. “It takes her a while.”

Kevin shot Mia a look that said he most definitely agreed.

Tess worked on fixing the mixture. “You should have just told me you were bad at this and just walked away.”

“Yeah, now that she is good at.” This from Kevin’s corner.

Tess went still. Everyone went still.

Hope glanced at Mia, waiting for her reaction.

Her reaction? That she couldn’t do this. She couldn’t even
joke
about what had been the best thing to ever happen to her, before she’d walked away, as Kevin so helpfully pointed out. She reached for her keys.

“Oh, no,” Tess said. “You’re not going anywhere.”

“I’ve got to—” Fall apart. Cry. Kick my tires…

“
I’ll
go.” Kevin shouldered his way to the door, but Mike slapped a hand on it, keeping it closed, pointing to Tess.

“Oh, my God, oh, my God!” she cried.