Jill Shalvis - Her Sexiest Mistake

A knife to the chest. "That's good." Trying not to lose it right there, Mia got up and grabbed her keys. "Time for school."

They were in the car before Hope spoke again. "I want to be just like you when I get to be as old as you are. What is that, forty?"

"Do you want to see your next birthday?"

Hope actually smiled. "Twenty-five?"

"See, now you're talking." So she'd turned the big three-oh last year. She could handle that. Yeah, her life sucked at the moment, but she could handle that, too.

For a long moment after Hope left the car, Mia sat there absorbing the morning sun. Hope wanted to be like her.

God help the both of them.

That afternoon Hope sat on a swing in the park. The early-evening sun beat down on her head as she idly kicked her foot in the sand, rocking back and forth, eyeing the lazy blue sky. At home she'd have been lying on her bed, wondering why she had no friends, why no one wanted to get to know her.

It should have disturbed her that she was still alone, but somehow it didn't. She didn't feel sick and sad all the time, she didn't feel like her chest was too tight. She didn't feel like she wanted to hurt something.

And-and this was the biggee-she didn't feel like wearing black all the time. For one thing, it was freaking hot. And for another, she liked Mia's clothes.

She liked it here.

She hadn't talked to her mother yet. Sugar had needed a break, which Hope understood, because she'd needed the break, too. But now that break was over.

Still, it would have been nice to hear from her momma, even once, to know she'd been missed, worried about. Even though that wasn't really her way. Hope would have bet that wasn't Mia's way, either, but Mia always wanted to know where Hope was and when she was coming back. At first, Hope had thought it was because Mia needed a break, too, but now she knew differently.

Mia worried about her.

And though that knowledge should have felt weird, should have been suffocating, it wasn't.

She heard the footsteps and knew it was Cole. He'd said he'd come hang out. He always did what he said he was going to, and the sheer comfort in that warmed her from the inside out. Lifting her head, she watched him walk toward her. He wore baggy cargo pants, a Zeppelin T-shirt, and a tight expression that said his mother had been yelling at him again.

But then his gaze caught hers and the shadows in his eyes went away. He smiled.

She smiled back.

"You look really pretty when you do that," he said.

She felt the heat settle in her cheeks. "You don't have to say stuff like that."

"I know." Moving behind her, he gave her a push.

Laughing as the swing began to move, she closed her eyes and let the warm wind blow over her face. It felt so good. He pushed her for a few minutes, then sat on the swing next to her.

"Adam broke up with Amber," he said.

She opened her eyes and caught the worry in his. "I don't care about Adam," she said.

He didn't say anything.

"I don't," she repeated, wanting him to believe her. "I don't care about any of them."

"What do you care about?"

"My aunt Mia. Kevin, and Tess, and Mike. I care about school. About…"

"Yeah?"

"You," she whispered, holding on to his swing when he would have backed up. "Cole, I mean it."

He looked like he desperately wanted to believe her but didn't.

"Adam was stupid," she said. "Being with him was me being stupid. I'm done with that. And I'm done with trying to hurt people to get attention. I just want to be." She leaned in close, her heart in her throat. "And I just want to be… with you."

He just stared at her as if she was speaking a foreign language, and it gave her the courage to admit the rest. "Cole, I've never…" With a grimace, she looked down at her toes. "I've never really felt… excited by a guy. I mean, I pretended to, but it's always pretty much been an act." Never having made the first move before, she wasn't sure how to make it count, but she lifted her head and stared into his eyes, then shifted even closer, their mouths a breath apart. "But when I'm with you, it feels different."

He stared at her, not moving a muscle. "Different like I'm-going-to-puke different, or different good?"

"The truth?" She shook her head and stared at his mouth. "I'm not sure yet. I want to find out, though. I have to find out. But you also need to know… I have to go back to Tennessee."

"When?"

"Soon, probably."

He paused. "That's going to suck."

"Yeah. Big-time." Her heart was going to barrel right out of her ribs, but she had to do this, wanted to do this. "Cole."

He was still as stone, not even breathing, as far as she could tell, his fingers white-knuckled on the steel line. Then his Adam's apple bounced once, hard.

For some reason, that little motion of vulnerability boosted the fledgling courage she felt inside and she touched his mouth with hers.

He groaned, a sound that did things to her belly and made her legs feel rubbery, all good stuff, so she kept her mouth on his.

He made the sound again, and then slid his arms around her. His nose bumped hers, hard, and she pulled back.

"Sorry," he whispered.

She clutched at his shirt and stared at him. "No, it was good. I don't feel like throwing up," she said, her voice all strange and breathy. "I feel like… wow."

He let out a long breath. "Yeah. Wow."

She bit her Up and looked at his mouth again, a little surprised to find her body sort of quivery, wanting more. "I want to say one more thing about me. And Adam."

Some of his smile faded. "You don't have to. It's okay."

"I didn't-"

"None of my business-"

"-have sex. I've never-" She managed to look him in the eyes. "-had sex. I just wanted you to know."

He looked at her. Then smiled.

"What's so funny?"

"I haven't either."

Was it possible to actually die of happiness? Hope thought maybe it was.

***

Over the next few days, Kevin managed to teach without losing it, managed to avoid Mike's probing, thoughtful gaze whenever possible, but he hadn't managed to avoid Hope. He just couldn't do it to her, so when she came up to him at lunch and whispered, "I know," squeezing his hand, he could hardly speak.

But he opened his desk drawer and pulled out her car keys.

Hope stared at them. "You mean-"

"Finished." He'd stayed up late putting in the new alternator and water pump for something to do other than obsess. "All yours."

Her smile was worth every moment. "Thank you," she whispered.

"I don't know what your rules are, so check with Mia before you drive anywhere."

"I will."

"And no more driving across the country until you're thirty."

"I won't." She hugged the keys to her chest. "You are the best man on the planet."

He nodded, but he didn't feel like the best man on the planet. He felt like the emptiest man on the planet.

Basketball had always been Kevin's drug of choice, and he needed to self-medicate, bad. Luckily, after work he had a basketball game scheduled at the court near his house. He headed toward the gate with more than enough pent-up aggression, and hoped the guys he was playing this week could handle it.

They could. The other team consisted of all twenty-and thirty-year-olds, and by the time the game was over, Mike bled from his lip and one knee and Kevin thought maybe he'd cracked a rib or two. Plus, he could hardly put weight on his ankle, which he'd twisted twice in his college days and apparently reinsured today in one of his fan-fucking-tastic layups, if he said so himself.

You're getting old, Mike signed when Kevin winced as they walked/limped/ whimpered off the court.

Kevin straightened and ignored the screaming in his ribs. Speak for yourself

I might be bleeding, and possibly getting old, but at least I'm heading for a woman who's going to feed me and then tuck me into bed, clucking over my injuries, kissing me alllllll better. He waggled his eyebrows as he backed from Kevin, jingling his keys.

Who?

Tess.

I thought she dumped you.

Mike's smile faded. She did. I'm slowly working my way back into favor.

And he would, too. Mike was the most charming, funny, easy-to-love guy he'd ever met. Let her go, Kevin signed. Pick someone else.

Mike shook his head. There's not going to be anyone else. Ever. And I know that's a helluva long time, but that's how I feel. Mike looked down at his battered athletic shoes, then back up. I'm going to prove myself to her. And you. I realize it might take a while, but I'm okay with that.

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 suitdress 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 then whimpered unmanly 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.

Mia 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.