Her Sexiest Mistake Read online

  “Oh, yeah.” When she would have brushed past him, he caught her arm, pulled her back around. “So,” he said. “That was pretty nice back there—”

  “Yeah, yeah. It was nice. It was great. Now we don’t have time for the cuddle stuff, move it!”

  He laughed. What else could he do? “There’s always time for the cuddle stuff,” he murmured and took the time to pull her in closer and kiss her softly. He could feel her jolt of surprise at the tender touch, the way her breath hitched.

  She kissed him back, then stepped clear, licking her lips as if wanting to get every last taste. “You have to go,” she said and shoved his shoes against his chest. “They can’t catch us—it’ll give them ideas.”

  He dropped his boots and stepped into them without bothering to lace them up. “I think they’ve already got ideas.”

  She went still and stared at him. “You think they’re having sex? My God, why didn’t you tell me? We have to stop them.”

  “I just meant that they’re thinking about it. It’s what teenagers do. At least teenage males. They wake up thinking about it, they eat thinking about it, they sleep thinking about it.”

  “Don’t tell me this. I don’t want to have to kill that Adam kid.”

  “Yeah. I just wish it was a different guy. Maybe Cole, who’s a little screwed up in the parental department, but a really great kid.”

  “No one’s good enough for Hope.”

  Again he stepped close, putting his hand on the bedroom door when she might have shoved him out of it. “That, Mia Appleby, is the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard you say. I think she’s growing on you.”

  “Maybe,” she admitted. “Damn it.”

  “You’re amazing to let her stay.”

  “What was I going to do, throw her out into the street?” Again, she tried to get past him.

  But he held on. “Was there anyone there for you? When you ran away?”

  “I didn’t—” She broke off and looked away. “Look, I realize that what we’ve done might have given you the idea that we’ve got something going on here, enough to share this kind of stuff, but—”

  “But we don’t.” He stared at her, wondering how he’d forgotten that. “Right. Sorry.” And he moved out the door without looking back. Going cold turkey, or so he told himself.

  No more. He’d had his fill.

  Now if only he believed it.

  The next morning Mia had no hot water. A certain teen had used it all. When she entered the kitchen, the same teen was at the stove.

  Flipping something in the pan. “What are you doing?”

  “You might have heard of it,” Hope said, hair wet from all of Mia’s hot water. “It’s called cooking.”

  “But we just cooked yesterday.”

  “We? You mean me and the house in my pocket?” Hope handed her a plate filled with eggs, hash browns, and toast. “You can’t always go out to eat.”

  “Why not?” Mia stared down at the food. Fat City. “You really made all this?”

  “Funny thing, a stove. You see it actually heats up, and then—”

  “Okay, smart-ass.”

  “Eat It’s the breakfast of champions. You’ll be able to make more heads roll, you’ll feel like a queen, you’ll—”

  “I get it.” Mia took a bite, and then another.

  Hope had her hands on her hips, looking a little like…Oh, God. Without her black makeup, she looked like…Mia swallowed hard. She looked like Mia herself. She swallowed the bite that had suddenly congealed in her mouth and stared, stunned at the realization.

  “Is it good?”

  “Yeah,” she whispered.

  Hope nodded, satisfied to have gotten her way, and went off to get dressed and paint herself up. And when she reappeared, she had her attitude and toughness firmly in place and looked nothing like Mia at all.

  Mia sighed in relief and glanced at the calendar by the refrigerator. Two more days.

  On the way to work, she cranked the air to combat the already warm day and accessed her messages. There was a client questioning the research budget for their company, another calling for trafficking reports, which would have been ready if she hadn’t lost half her creative team. Then Tess’s voice came on. “I want to trade this job for what’s behind door number one. Seriously, Mia, why didn’t you tell me Dickhead told you I’d come on to Ted? You’d best get in before you have to bail me out for murder.”

  Mia shook her head and wondered what the hell Ted was up to now, and drove faster.

  “Look at that,” Hope commented dryly from the passenger seat. “Your breakfast is working. You have the energy this morning to kick ass from the car. Usually it takes three lattes.”

  “Hope?”

  “Yes?” the girl asked sweetly.

  “New rule. No baiting me before ten o’clock.” In the rearview mirror she checked the placement of the collar of her Michael Kors silk top, which was up to help cover the beard rash she’d gotten the night before from Kevin.

  Then she noticed Hope was wearing a black T-shirt with a mock turtleneck beneath it. Also black. “Are you crazy? You’re going to melt.”

  Hope fiddled with the neckline but said nothing.

  Suspicion filled Mia, and reaching out, she peeled the neck of the material away from the kid.

  “Hey!” She slapped Mia’s hand away, but not before Mia saw the evidence.

  “Damn it, you have a hickey!”

  Hope crossed her arms over her chest and slunk into the seat. “So?”

  Mia pulled up to the teen center and turned to Hope. “So sex can be as bad for your health as cigarettes.”

  “Jeez, I’m not having sex!”

  “You’re not?”

  “No, Aunt Apple, that would be you.” She flicked at Mia’s collar, revealing Kevin’s whisker burns.

  They stared at each other, Hope’s gaze filling with a slow, seething resentment.

  “Okay,” Mia said, fixing her collar again. “Okay, listen. Maybe we both need to slow down a little.”

  “I’m not the one with the false accusations, thank you very much.”

  “I mean in general. Maybe try to be less…worldly, and more…tolerant of each other.”

  Hope arched a brow. “You’re going to be more tolerant?”

  “Hey, I will if you will.”

  Hope’s nose nearly hit the top of the Audi. “I’m perfectly tolerant.”

  “Then what’s with all the screwing with the music, the phones lines, the ice makers of the world? You’re practically shouting Look at me, I need attention!”

  Hope rolled her eyes. “Fine. Maybe I could be slightly more tolerant of your life.”

  That seemed too easy, and Mia eyed her a moment. “So you’re going to stay out of trouble today?”

  “Yeah.” Hope was staring at the high school. “I wish I could take summer school.”

  “You’ll be home this weekend. By Monday you can be signed up—”

  “Here. I want to take the science class here. With Kevin. He said I could add it—”

  “Hold on.” Mia removed her seat belt and turned in her seat to face Hope. “You talked to Kevin about this?”

  “Well, yeah. He said it was no big deal to add—”

  No big deal? Jesus. What did he know of her life? Or the additional stress this would cause? “Hope,” she said gently. “You’re going home this weekend.”

  “Right.” Hope looked down at her clenched hands. “Because you hate having me here.”

  “Now, listen—”

  “No, I get it. Loud and clear. Nice tolerance, Aunt Apple.” She opened the passenger door and sprinted out toward the teen center.

  “Hope!”

  But the kid didn’t stop.

  Mia watched her go, thinking she was getting good at alienating people. Real good.

  Chapter Fifteen

  At the teen center, Kevin paced his office and looked at his watch. Again. There was a staff meeting this morning with a couple members o