Jill Shalvis - The Sweetest Thing

He lifted his head. There was no mistaking the hunger and desire on his beautiful face, or the confusion as he gave one short shake of his head. “What is it?” he asked. “What do you want to hear? Tell me.”

No. She didn’t want to have to do that. “Never mind. Just quick, kiss me and shut me up.”

He did without question, and this time she had to lock her knees. Because it was too late to protect herself, far too late to worry about if she deserved to fall for him because she already had.

Again.

Oh, God. Just the thought left her wobbly. This was going to require a lot of obsessing, and maybe some more chips. Certainly a bottle of wine, and in all likelihood her sisters as well. Not for their wisdom, but to smack her upside the head for even secretly yearning for this.

For him.

For keeps.

“I’m sorry. I have to go,” she whispered, still plastered to him like a second skin.

“What?”

She grimaced at herself for being a coward. “Early morning.”

Something in her voice must have alerted him to the impending meltdown because he let her pull away, not stopping her when she straightened her dress, or when she left him on the dock.

He let her go without a word; without asking anything of her.

And wasn’t that the entire problem in a nutshell? He let her go.

He always let her go.

The next morning, their guests left before dawn. The woman assured Tara that everything had been great, and then asked for a sample of the oil to go.

Tara put Mia to work sweeping the wood floors, which seemed to gather dust faster than a fat dog could gather fleas. “Careful not to stir it all up into the air,” Tara told her. “It irritates Chloe’s throat, and she’ll need to use her inhaler.”

“It’s sweet that you worry about her,” Mia said.

Tara laughed. She, Chloe, and Maddie were just about anything but sweet. No, scratch that, because Maddie was sweet. Tara and Chloe? Not so much.

Mia disappeared upstairs to sweep the hallway, and Tara met with Maddie in the marina office to go over paperwork. Chloe was allergic to paperwork more than dust, so she was outside in the sun, on a yoga mat in the downward-facing-dog position. By the time Tara returned to the inn Mia was nowhere to be seen, although her broom was leaning against a wall in the upstairs hallway.

“Shh!” This came from behind the bathroom door. “She’ll hear.”

Mia’s voice, followed by Carlos’s soft laugh, and a second more emphatic “Shh” from Mia.

Dammit. Dammit, Tara thought. They were in there messing around. Now see, this was why animals ate their young. Ready to rumble, she whipped open the door and blinked.

Her daughter and Carlos sat on the countertop, separated by the sink. Mia had a laptop on her thighs, the screen facing Carlos, who was cracking up. At the sight of her, he sobered and got to his feet. “Ms. Daniels.”

Weak with relief that they weren’t having sex, Tara leaned back against the door, then realized they were staring at her. “You’re not working,” she said.

“Well, not exactly,” Mia said. “But it is about the inn.” She turned the laptop in Tara’s direction.

“Mia-” Carlos tried to block the view. “Not a good idea-”

“She’s going to find out sooner or later, and it might as well be from us.” Mia revealed the screen. Facebook, of course, the bane of Tara’s existence. She’d been forewarned by Logan, but it was another thing entirely to see it herself.

The picture was grainy and blurry, probably from a cell phone, but it was clear enough. Tara, climbing onto Ford’s boat with her basket of muffins, followed by the line:

A secret rendezvous between a certain sexy sailing champion and a very beautiful innkeeper. Guess a certain poll is null and void.

There was another pic of Ford and Tara standing on the marina dock. The shot was incredibly revealing and intimate, Ford trapping Tara against a pylon, his mouth devouring hers. Tara’s hands were fisted in his shirt, and he had one hand tangled in her hair, the other tightly wrapped around her back.

Guess this leaves superstar NASCAR driver Logan Perrish out in the cold. No worries, Logan, we’re running a new poll starting today. Log in and give us choices for The Bachelor, Lucky Harbor Style. Single ladies, sign up to date sexy Logan now!

Tara stared at the screen in horror. “Did you-”

“No,” Mia said quickly. “I didn’t take either pic. Neither of us did. You have a spy. I was about to post a comment that people need to mind their own stinking business and leave you to yours.”

Tara smiled grimly. “You don’t know the locals here very well yet. Minding their own business isn’t a strong suit.”

Carlos turned to the door. “I should go. I got something to do…”

When he’d vanished, Tara raised a brow at Mia, who shrugged. “He’s the tough guy at his school. But you scare him.”

“I’ve never scared him.”

“You do. He’s worried you’re going to kill him.”

Tara paused. “Has he given me a reason to kill him?”

“It’s more that he thinks you can read minds, and that you’ll kill him for what’s on his. Boys are kind of obvious that way, you know?”

Yes, Tara knew. She just didn’t like that Mia knew.

“You won’t kill him, right?” Mia asked.

Tara sighed. “Do you like him that much?”

“Yes. I love him,” her daughter said without hesitation.

“Love? Mia, it’s only been-”

“I know what I feel,” her daughter said with the conviction of a seventeen-year-old. She shut the laptop and leaned back against the counter. “Remember when you said you’d answer any question I might have? Does that still stand?”

Oh boy. “Ask,” Tara said bravely.

“I’ve been wondering why you lost contact with Ford after you had me. You two loved each other, and yet by all accounts, you just walked away.”

Tara drew in a long breath. “I went back home. To Texas. It’s pretty far from Lucky Harbor.”

“Yes, but there are phones. Computers. The U.S. mail service. And your mom lived here.”

“Phoebe didn’t live here, not yet. She was only visiting that summer, and… and well, Ford and I had only met that summer, and we each had our lives.” Lame excuses. And Mia deserved better. “Part of it was that I wasn’t nearly as mature as you.”

“You didn’t want to keep in contact?” Mia asked. “You didn’t like him anymore?”

“Mia, it wasn’t that simple, and we were just kids.”

“You could have come back here instead of going to Texas.”

“No, because Phoebe didn’t stick here, either. But even if she had, I wasn’t used to living in a small town. It was different.”

“Good different?”

No. Tara had felt claustrophobic and smothered, but she didn’t want to say that. “I was used to more. And I wanted to go to school in Texas, to Texas A &M.”

“A big college,” Mia murmured.

“Yes, and…” Tara trailed off, at a loss on how to make it sound logical when the truth was it hadn’t been logical at all. Her reactions had been of sheer emotion. “Honestly, I was just trying to keep it together, and not doing all that great a job.” Tara took Mia’s hand. “But I’d like to think I’ve done a lot of growing up since then. If I could go back now, I’d-”

What?

What would she do differently? She wasn’t sure.

“You can’t go back,” Mia said quietly. “Even I know that much. You can’t ever go back.”

Wasn’t that the truth.

With a sigh, Mia turned to the door. Tara followed, just happening to glance down at the trash can.

At the empty condom wrapper right on top.

She stared at it, then slowly looked up at Mia. Who was also looking at the empty condom wrapper, chewing on her lower lip and looking guilty as hell.

“Maddie’s,” Tara said hopefully.

Mia gnawed on her lip some more and slowly shook her head. “No. Not Maddie’s.”

“But you said you weren’t having sex,” Tara said with what she felt was remarkable calm.

“No, I said I wasn’t having unprotected sex.”

“God.” Tara pressed her fingers to her eyes. “Mia…”

“Do you want me to go?”

“No! I want…” She dropped her hands from her face and met Mia’s shuttered gaze. “I want you to be able to tell me the truth.”

“Really? You wanted me to tell you I was having sex with Carlos?” Mia asked with disbelief, winding up to a defensive stance.

“Yes!”

Mia shook her head. “Did you tell your parents when you were having sex with Ford?”

Tara staggered back and leaned against the counter. No. No, she hadn’t told anyone what she’d shared with Ford. It’d been for them alone. “I’m failing you,” she whispered. “This is all my fault, somehow.”

Mia sighed. “No, it’s not. It has nothing to do with you. And you’re acting like I’m too young or something.”

“You are too young.”

“Because you weren’t doing the exact same thing when you were my age?”

Tara opened her mouth, then shut it, at a complete loss. “Mia, having sex is a huge emotional commitment, and I don’t think any seventeen-year-old can possibly be ready for it.”

“Yes, well, I need to make my own mistakes,” Mia said. “Not yours. Mine. And for this to work, you’re going to have to let me.”

“Mia-”

But she was gone.

• • •

Tara needed a sister bad. Chloe was off God knew where doing God knew what, but Tara found Maddie at Jax’s house on the bluff. They sat outside on his deck, and while he barbecued, Tara filled Maddie in on how she’d screwed up with Mia. “Epic failure,” she said as Maddie poured them both wine. “And the worst part of all is that I practically hand-delivered Carlos right into her lap. I de-virginized my own daughter!”