Page 30 of Mending Hearts

“Sure. Why not? Never to each other, right? Isn’t that the mantra?”

“You had nice breasts before, and you have nice breasts now. Whatever some perv is screenshotting in his basement hasn’t changed. Same breasts. Same spank bank.” I shrugged. “Not much you can do about that.”

Mia cocked her head and wandered over, her heels clicking on the floor. She favored dresses and skirts, and today was no exception. The candy pink skirt swayed with her as she sidled closer. My fingers itched to slide up her thigh and under her skirt. After the things she’d told me, I was determined I wasn’t going to make a move. I wasn’t the kind of man who took something a woman didn’t willingly, enthusiastically give, no matter how tight my pants got.

“Do you have a bank?” Our fingers connected as she took the dress.

“Every man has one. If they tell you they don’t, they’re lying.” My voice was rough, and our gazes met. She did this sometimes, tested, teased, seemed to be considering whether she wanted more from our arrangement. Whenever she heard I was out for coffee with her mother, she ramped up the sexual tension between us the next time we saw each other. I hadn’t been out for a drink with Laura in a week, so I didn’t know what was happening right now. I wasn’t going to complain. This version of Mia was one of my favorites.

She braced her hand on my bicep, and she rose on her toes, so her lips grazed my ear. “What’s in yours?”

I held very still while everything in me hollered to grab her, lift her onto the table, and show her all the things I’d been thinking about these last few weeks. When she drew back, I searched her face, trying to decide how honest I should be. Was this a test?

“Never to each other,” Mia whispered, reading my mind.

“I get new material for mine every day,” I said, her lips a distraction.

A sly smile slid onto her face. “Why’s—”

A loud knock on the door startled us, causing the dress to fall. It hit the floor between us with a soft thud.

I cleared my throat and swooped down to pick it up. I passed it to her and went to the door. “Who is it? I’m in the middle of a repair.”

“Time for coffee?” Laura called from the other side of the door. “I need to pick your brain.”

Over my shoulder, I caught Mia’s scowl while she tugged up the straps of the black dress.

“Give me thirty minutes.” I pressed my forehead against the cool, steel door. The temperature in the room was already ten degrees cooler. When I turned around, Mia was wearing the dress, hands on her hips, breasts spilling out the top. Despite the pissed-off look on her face, it was an image I was storing for later.

“Don’t mind me.” Mia threw out her hands. “Don’t let the mother of your child get in the way of your coffeedate.”

I walked a slow circle around her, assessing the dress and giving us both a moment to get collected. Two inches short of zipping closed at the back. Saying something I didn’t mean would push us further apart. The baby we were bringing into the world deserved two parents.

“If our situation comes out, we’re going to need your mother on our side, right? She needs to like me, Mia.”

“You sleep with her, and I’m putting this child up for adoption.” She pointed to her stomach.

Pursing my lips, I suppressed a sigh. From her experience, men made poor choices all the time, let her down, took advantage of her. Even though I knew where these thoughts came from, they made our agedifference jarring. Jealousy wasn’t reasonable, rational, especially since we weren’t together.

“I’m going to say this to you one more time, no jokes, straight-up serious. I have zero interest in sleeping with your mother. Zero. Next time you toss out that claim, I’m ignoring it. I get that it’s hard for you to trust what I say, but I won’t lie to you. I promised you that much, and I want to be a man of my word.”

Her dark hair fell around her face while she looked at the floor. I swept back one side of her hair and tucked it behind her ear, hoping to catch a glimpse of her expression. Her attitude often turned on a dime.

“I can let out the seam, and it’ll fit.” I kept my voice gentle. “What time do you need it?”

“Lunch.” She tucked the other side of her hair and faced me. “I don’t like you spending time with her.”

“Why?” I pushed one hand into the pocket of my jeans and readjusted the lollipop in my mouth with the other. “It’s just coffee and not even that often.” But our meetings were regular, consistent. She usually asked once a week. I was careful never to initiate, but turning her down produced other complications. After all, as far as everyone knew, she was my boss.

“I like how you treat me. How you see me.” Tears pooled in her eyes. “What if she tells you something to change that?”

Protectiveness gripped me so hard it stole my breath. As much as I enjoyed the flirtatious Mia, this version of her wiggled into my heart. The naked vulnerability made me understand how people committed homicides. I wanted to murder every person who ever made her think respect and kindness could disappear in a puff of smoke. “I’ve seen prettymuch every side of you. Nothing is going to change how I view you, or how I treat you.”

“How can you know that?” She wiped at her tears and stared at them on her fingers. “I never cry. Lately, I’m always crying. Why am I always fucking crying?” Her voice caught on a sob.

I slid my hand into her hair and tugged her into my chest. She clung on, pressing her face against me. “We’ll check with David later today when we see him for your checkup. The tears are probably hormones, but we can ask, okay? Your schedule is insane, and you’re riding the onstage and offstage emotional roller coaster.”

“I used to even myself out with drugs,” Mia whispered. “But I haven’t taken anything since I took the tests.”

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