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  “Do you know how much longer it will be? Paul says she won’t behave for him, either.” Can’t you just be a mother for once and not let your vagina rule your thoughts? “And I can’t teach my class with her in tow if she won’t behave for me.”

  “Your class?” Mia asked for clarification, dreading the answer. She dragged herself into a sitting position and felt the pounding in her head intensify.

  “I’m helping the women here make a living with their skills. You know, jewelry-making and such.”

  But they’d already had that argument, too. As far as Mia knew, Paul and her mother hadn’t had sex, although she found that highly unlikely. But he was a ‘Man Of God’ and all, so it was possible. Her mother had seemed to turn a new leaf, until she took Rose with her.

  The whole situation was laughable, if Rose hadn’t been there. The fact that Diane was working with the women to help them create a sustainable living, when she herself had gone through nothing but a series of sugar daddies her entire adult life, was something Mia wished she could see. Like a plane crash.

  She threw her legs over the edge of the bed, willing them to function, even though the remnants of tequila were still coursing through her blood stream. Still legally drunk, Mia probably smelled like a damn still. “It’s going to be another month or two, Mom. I’ll try to get a plane ticket to fly her out by March, but that’s the best I can do.” And I’ll try to do better than that. “She’ll probably have to redo a year of school, but it could always be worse.”

  “Yeah.” Diane was quiet a while, and Mia managed to stumble into the kitchen for a glass of water while she waited for her mother to say something else. As she gulped down the liquid, easing her parched mouth, her mom took a ragged breath. “I wish I had been different for you girls.”

  Putting the glass down, Mia’s shock kept her silent. Her mother had never once admitted she’d been wrong in her choices as a parent. “Paul has helped me see some errors I may have made with you two.”

  “Wow, Mom.”

  “I know.”

  Okay, so maybe Paul wasn’t so bad if he was helping her to realize she was a shitty mother. Guilt hit her at the thought, and Mia mentally apologized. She was alive, and for all her mother’s flaws, she’d managed to keep her in the alive condition, so there was that.

  “I’ll do my best to get her out of there. Y’all may want to pass the hat around the congregation once or twice to help out,” Mia said, half-joking. It would be cool if her mother could actually help her out financially if Mia was going to help raise her other child. Although, she’d do it alone if she had to.

  Her thoughts wandered to Jordan, unbidden, and the image of them living together and raising Rose flashed through her head. She squashed the thought almost as soon as it came to her. That was not a possibility. Ever. They were just having sex.

  Well, not really, but whatever.

  “Is Rose around? Can I talk to her before I go to work?”

  “Sure, hang on.”

  Her sister sounded sullen when she got on the phone, and Mia hated it. Her heart hurt to hear her voice sound that way.

  “Hey,” Mia offered. “Are they feeding you anything good?”

  “No. God, all they eat here is rice and grass and stuff. It’s so gross. I can’t wait to go back to civilization.”

  “I know, honey. I’m trying. It’s still going to be a couple of months, though. Apartments here are really expensive.”

  “Anything would be better than a tent, Mia. Please. I don’t even have TV here. Anywhere. Like, nobody has TV. It’s crazy.”

  Mia smiled. She didn’t have TV, either, and that wasn’t on her list of things to have before she brought Rose home, but she wasn’t about to spill the beans on that.

  “Just hang in there and think of all the cool stories you’ll be able to tell kids here about the awesome places you lived while you traveled the world. You’re getting to do things other fifteen-year-olds haven’t. Just keep remembering that, okay?”

  After hanging up with her sister, Mia tried to follow her own advice. Instead of being mad at her mother for flying off half-cocked, she should be glad her sister got these cool experiences. Except she wasn’t sure they were really all that cool.

  Misty, the barista, wasn’t working out for him any more than Evelyn had. Mike was more than a little upset about that. Neither of them had reacted the way he wanted, and while he’d gotten a little carried away with Evelyn, God rest her soul, Misty was faring better. But he didn’t like her much.

  Mike stepped out of the shower, his fair skin ruddy with the heat and scrubbing, and began toweling himself dry. Wrapping the towel around his waist, he walked out into the bedroom, where Misty was tied to his bed, looking too scared.

  “You don’t understand, Misty. I don’t want to hurt you,” he offered with a weak smile as he sat on the edge of the bed. The smile disappeared when Misty started muttering angry sounds from behind the gag. That was the reason for the gag. If she’d be nice, he’d take it off, but she wouldn’t. Evelyn had made him mad, and he’d done more than he planned with her, but he’d be better with Misty.

  Mike put a restraining hand on her leg, and Misty quieted. That was better. Maybe he needed to utilize more touch, to make her realize he wasn’t going to hurt her. He was already planning to take the next step in showing her how compatible they could be tonight.

  She wasn’t working out, but he didn’t want to hurt her, either. He needed to keep trying to make her see.

  He deserved it. Everyone deserved a little happiness.

  Mike had really thought Evelyn was it. She was his soul mate. He’d spent years watching her, waiting for her to see it, too. When he’d finally given up on Evelyn seeing him with her own eyes, he’d approached her, then he’d taken her.

  His plan was to show her what life with him would be like. Since the dawning of time, couples had been matched together and learned to love each other. He just knew Evelyn would be like that with him, she just had never thought to look at Mike that way.

  Unfortunately, things hadn’t worked out with Evelyn, but Mike used her as a learning experience. He decided Evelyn probably knew him too well. He needed someone who didn’t know him well at all.

  Like Misty.

  They’d been getting to know each other. Mike read to her from Evelyn’s books, talked to her, fed her, and tonight, he would make love to her. The only problem was, Mike didn’t care much for her. She wasn’t giving him much of a chance, and that was sad because it only meant if she didn’t change for him, he would have to get rid of her, too.

  Another learning experience.

  Jordan was in his office making a list while Ryan was finishing up a report for Simon. He chewed his pen, clicking it open and shut with his teeth as he went back over his plan of action. They were set to go look at Misty Walker’s apartment at eight a.m., and Jordan was just making sure he had all his bases covered. He’d read the police report three times and was anxious to do some legwork. He didn’t want to fuck this one up. The job seemed like it could be better if he could do something besides follow cheaters around all the time.

  He would admit to himself he wanted to make a difference, like he had in the service. He wanted to change lives. He wanted to do good. Hopefully, this job would help him to that end.

  Besides, it would be cooler if he wasn’t so down about his job when he talked to Mia at night.

  Jordan clenched his weak fist absent-mindedly, stretching the muscles, strengthening his grip. It was a subconscious thing now, something he did when he was deep in thought.

  He was demolishing the pen with his teeth, clacking it around his mouth furiously, when a knock at the door frame snapped his head up. “Hey, Jordan, you want to go grab a drink on the way home?” He recognized the peace offering from his big brother after the words they’d had earlier, and he appreciated it. Maybe he would have some insight on Mia.

  Jordan rolled his internal eyes. He didn’t need insight. He needed to fuck her.


  “Sure. Give me a minute,” he said, snapping his notebook shut and putting everything in his satchel. He could make lists at home while he waited for Mia to get home from work.

  Mia. She was certainly turning into a disturbing diversion. While he had the worst case of blue balls in existence, he found he didn’t really mind. He just wanted to see her again. His thoughts continued to turn to her, and that had him all sorts of hot and bothered. As he followed Evan down the stairs and out to their cars, he thought about what he could do tonight to build anticipation until she decided to finally let him have sex with her.

  Wait. What the ever-living fuck? Mia was a hot chick. She was cool to hang out with, but why the hell was he thinking like that about her? It didn’t matter how he felt around her, for Christ’s sake. Did it?

  Blue balls must be affecting his brain power.

  Jordan liked that she wasn’t super easy. He’d never had a woman be so hard to get, and he found he actually respected her for it. It was prolonging the anticipation—making him get to know her a little—and while they’d been talking as friends for weeks now, he found that talking with the hope of more with her was even better.

  Jordan looked forward to more with Mia, but he found himself suddenly not wanting to rush things. He wanted her to be in a good place mentally before he rocked her world. Those bags under her eyes needed to go.

  What the hell? On the way down the stairs from his office to his Harley, he’d done a near one-eighty about Mia? Jordan stretched his shoulders, trying to lose some of the office tension of sitting at a desk all damn day and clear his mind of Mia before he started buying her flowers and shit.

  He followed Evan to a Mexican food place close to Sixth Street, where they both sat at the bar and ordered shots of Patron and Coronas.

  “I heard Simon gave you the Walker file. That a good move?” Evan grimaced as he swallowed his shot and slammed the glass on the bar top.

  Jordan slid his tequila back into his throat, missing the taste of Mia’s flesh as a chaser, and answered as honestly as he could, “I hope so.” Unsure of what to say next, he decided to go with all honesty. “I’m not sure how much of your own rep you put at stake to get him to hire me, but I appreciate it. I’m going to try to have a better attitude.” The show of faith with the new case was awesome, and Jordan certainly didn’t want to fuck it up.

  “Nah. I don’t have a reputation anymore. Not really, anyway.” Evan looked deep into his glass, then back up at Jordan with a genuine smile. “But I like where I am.”

  Jordan knew Evan had problems in the past, but had no clue how bad they really were. It sounded like Evan didn’t really care, based on the relaxed shrug he was tossing. When Jordan had enlisted after high school, Evan was on top of the world, a total geek in some computer field Jordan didn’t even pretend to understand. In their communications back and forth, he’d found out something had happened, but his parents never really talked about it, their understanding just as in depth as Jordan’s.

  But now it was all over, and Jordan had missed it. Some part of him regretted not being around for his brother during his difficult time, but another part knew he was the ‘little brother’ and probably wouldn’t have been needed or wanted.

  Evan broke Jordan’s ruminations. “Look, I know your first impressions weren’t all that great, especially right after coming off a military outfit, but Pierce has good bones.”

  Jordan scoffed. He’d first walked in on Zack trying out some Braille shit on Miriam’s fake tits. Later, he’d found out she had had a double mastectomy, and Zack was trying to tell what the fake ones felt like. For a guy who depended on other senses besides sight, Jordan didn’t guess he could blame him. But he didn’t know that, and then Miriam’s boyfriend, Jake, had walked in, not batted an eye, and took her out for Pad Thai. In the midst of all that, Quinten was dropping the hurt on Zack for touching a taken woman, and Jordan’s initial thoughts were that the entire office used Miriam for fun.

  How wrong that impression was. Miriam was the Mama-figure, and they were her boys. She acted like she didn’t like that role, and sometimes, she might not, but that’s how it was. Jordan figured the other guys needed her. And she was there for them.

  “Good bones?” he questioned.

  “Sure. Simon and Zack are ex-cops. Their connections with mine are the only thing that’s kept us legit, honestly. But Quinten is some sort of Renaissance man, with a law degree, in addition to being a total badass. He and Ryan and you are the muscle. I break all sorts of laws, but I’m so good nobody will ever catch me.”

  Ignoring the backhanded compliment, Jordan didn’t doubt the comment about being good at breaking laws for a minute, but his brother’s smug look had him punching him in the arm and putting the older brother in a headlock, knocking him off the barstool before they both sobered up.

  Taking a swig of his beer, Jordan mused, “I really want something to work out, you know? I don’t want to be one of the PTSD pity cases.” His hand hurt as he curled it around the beer bottle, but it was an ache he was forcing himself to get used to. “Not over a fucking hand.” So many had lost way more than he had—limbs, lives, everything. Jordan wasn’t going to have a pity party over the loss of his non-dominant hand. His only option was to submerse himself into his job so he couldn’t think about it. In that regard, he meant everything he said to Evan. He did appreciate the job, and he was going to have a better attitude.

  “Have you talked to Mom and Dad lately?” Evan asked with what was undoubtedly a smirk on his face.

  “No, I haven’t wanted to do that until I was totally settled. I guess I need to call Mom.”

  “Yeah, you do. She’s called me almost every day since her baby boy moved down here with me.”

  Jordan rolled his eyes and took a large swallow of his beer. Talking to his mother raised his blood pressure. Thinking about talking to his mother raised his blood pressure. “I haven’t felt like listening to her telling me about all the girls in her town she wants me to meet. Or how her horses are doing.” He took another swallow as he thought. “She doesn’t really listen to me, you know? She has no idea I hate it up there, and I’ve actually said those words to her.”

  Evan chuckled into his beer, waving at the bartender dressed in one of those colorful, ruffly dresses that seemed to be so commonplace at Mexican restaurants. “She knows. She just misses us.”

  “Then why the fuck did she move to Montana?”

  “Because it makes her happy. And now that she’s happy, she wants us to be happy. She sees I am, now, and she wants it for you, too. You’re her last great project.” When the girl came over, Evan asked for another round of beer.

  “I’m done after this. I’ve got plans.” Jordan wasn’t keen on getting drunk before he saw Mia tonight. Evan’s eyebrows rose.

  “Do tell.”

  “I’m seeing my neighbor tonight. Mia.”

  “Yeah? You got something going on with her?”

  Jordan thought about it. The deal they’d made was no-strings-attached, then she’d cock-blocked him. And he didn’t actually mind. He realized he was planning something tonight, and it wasn’t sex.

  Huh.

  “Yeah, I think I do,” Jordan mused, taking a swig of the fresh beer the bartender had placed in front of him. “I think I do.”

  Jordan had actually seen Mia the first day he’d walked up the stairs to his room. He was lugging a box of dishes from his mom’s house and two duffle bags of clothes, towels, and sheets and shit. He’d almost missed her, so focused on his new civilian life where he needed so much shit. But then he’d been hit by the scent of cherries as she approached him coming down the stairs.

  A door opened down the hall, and Jordan could just see a man’s head poking out.

  “Don’t slam your fucking door, Mia. Some of us work nights,” he snarled at her retreating back.

  Her muttered words made Jordan smile. “Sure, if you call pimping out your whores work.”

  “You can
come work for me, hon,” the man leered as she walked down the stairs..

  The woman said nothing and raised one elegant middle finger in the air, never turning, and the man huffed and slammed his door.

  Jordan stopped on the steps to allow the woman to pass, admiring her as she went. Curvy, olive-skinned, with long, thick, dark hair pulled back into a swaying ponytail, she was fucking gorgeous. And she didn’t look at Jordan twice.

  That was weird for him, since he knew he was a decent looking guy. The mirrored sunglasses and the physique he worked hard to maintain usually turned heads wherever he went.

  He followed her progress down the stairs with his eyes, smiling to himself as her Dickies hugged the curve of her ass perfectly, while the apron tied into a bow framed it just so.

  It might be a shithole house apartment, but at least it had a nice view.

  That night, he pretended to lock his key in his apartment and waited for her to come home to see if she’d let him in. To his surprise, she’d picked his lock effortlessly and tossed him a housewarming beer. That had proved to be the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

  Realizing his brother smirked at him over his beer, watching him daydream, Jordan tossed back his beer before sliding off his barstool.

  “Yeah, I think so.”

  In the perceived safety of her Volkswagen, parked in front of her apartment building, Mia was safe, right? Then why was she so leery about leaving the vehicle? Some asshole had stared at her all through her shift, and it gave her the heebie jeebies. Feeling a little stupid, she checked her mirrors before she got out of her car to make sure there wasn’t somebody lurking. The guy most likely hadn’t followed her home, but he sure had creeped her out tonight.

  Mia was exhausted, yet the unspoken promises of last night with Jordan had her skipping up the steps to her room. Even before she unlocked the door, the aroma of scented candles and the sound of music ratcheted up her anticipation.