***
Darn it. The only thing she hated more than other people being late, was being late herself. Without heading up to her room first to change, Mia dashed to the back office where she’d found Sean the night before. The clock read quarter of six and she’d told him to be ready by five.
Mia found the office door open and the room empty. The rooms off the front foyer had been empty as well when she came in. The truck he’d been unloading that morning remained outside, as did the motorcycle she’d spotted near the garage. So unless he had another vehicle, he was here somewhere.
Following the unique combination of rosemary and cinnamon, she headed for the kitchen. Both Sean and Maureen sat at the table with a platter of chicken and roasted potatoes in the middle. On the counter she spotted an apple pie with the steam still coming off the top.
“Hi, sorry I’m so late.” Mia stopped next to the table. “I can be ready to go in ten minutes, Sean.”
“Why don’t you sit and eat before you go,” Maureen said as she stood. “I’ll get you a plate.”
“I’m still stuffed from lunch, but thank you. Sean, I’ll be right back.”
He glanced up at her. “Come and get me when you’re ready,” he answered.
Mia jogged up the stairs and into her room. Peeling off the top her cousin’s baby spit up on, she grabbed another from the closet. After touching up her lipstick, she gathered her hair up in a ponytail and pulled on her baseball cap. If anyone looked closely they’d more than likely recognize her, but since no one knew she was here, she might be able to blend into the crowd tonight.
Eight minutes later, she returned to the kitchen where Sean remained at the table, eating a large slice of pie topped with vanilla ice cream.
“All set.”
Sean grabbed his napkin. The movement drew her eyes to his large hands. One nail on his left hand was a deep purple and his ring finger was covered with a bandage. A long white scar stretched across the top of his right hand. They were the hands of someone who worked hard. Just looking at them, she could imagine how they might feel on her skin and a tiny shiver went down her spine.
“Thanks for dinner, Ma.” He pushed back his chair and came to his feet. “After you,” he said as he gestured toward the kitchen door.
“I really am sorry about being late. I lost track of time.” Mia closed the truck door as he slid behind the wheel.
Sean shrugged and started the truck. “No big deal. I figured you changed your mind and went into Boston for the night,” he said matter-of-factly.
“I’m still sorry. I hate being late and don’t like to keep people waiting for me. But I haven’t seen my grandparents since Christmas, and then a few of my cousins stopped by after lunch.”
“I understand. Don’t worry about it,” he said as his shoulder visibly relaxed and his voice softened in an unspoken forgiveness. “You still have family around here?” Sean shot her a quick look as he backed out of the driveway.
“In Woodlawn. Out near Boxborough. That’s where I lived until I moved to California.”
“Never heard of it.”
Mia smiled. “That’s no big surprise. Not many people have. It’s a small town, and I think half its population is made up of my relatives. Both my mom and dad were born there.”
“Big family?”
“More like gigantic. My mom is one of six and my dad is one of five. I think I have about thirty first cousins and many of them have children now. As far as I know only a few of them have moved out of town.”
The corner of Sean’s mouth curved up. “Yeah, I’d call that big.” He pulled to the curb in front of a small deli with a closed sign in the window and looked over at her. “This is as close as we’re going to get. They close off the roads near the common for the party.”
“I don’t mind walking.”
The town common she’d passed the day before was now crowded with people. On the far end several games had been set up for the children to play, including a dunking machine, and from here she saw several teens lined up to dunk the adult, perhaps one of their teachers or coaches, seated inside. Tables covered with food lined the grass in front of the Town Hall while farther down, residents manned several grills. The smoke from the charcoal drifted into the night air, mingling with the smell of cooking meat and making her mouth water. There was just something about the smell of food cooking on a grill that she’d always loved. On the stage a band played something that was a cross between rock and country music, as people in the audience danced and sang along with the lead singer, a twenty-something guy dressed in jeans and a T-shirt with his long hair tied back in a ponytail.
“This is it.” Sean stopped at the edge of the green, his hands stuffed in his jeans pockets. “There will be fireworks later. They always have them for the first and last block parties of the season.”
She’d never seen anything like it. Intent on joining the crowd near the stage, she took a step forward. When Sean remained still, she looked back at him. “Is something wrong?”
“I didn’t think you’d want to stick around once you got here and saw what it’s all about.”
“Why wouldn’t I?” She turned on her heel and faced him, puzzled by his statement. After all, she had asked him to the party.
Sean nodded toward the scene in front of him. “This isn’t exactly a Hollywood party. It’s all right if you want to go. I understand.”
No, this was no Hollywood party, but then again as of late she’d grown tired of those parties and their usual crowd. “I want to dance.” She grabbed his arm and pulled him.
“I don’t dance,” he answered as he followed her toward the makeshift dance floor.
I knew you were going to say that. Despite his protest, she weaved her way through the crowd, her hand latched onto his arm. She couldn’t figure the guy out, and the more time she spent with him the more she wanted to. He was never rude, but he kept to himself. He didn’t go out of his way to impress her and not once had he made any comment on her appearance. Not even a simple, you look nice had passed through his lips. Did he treat all women like that or just her?
On stage Gage Larson launched into another song. Sean had never liked Ray’s youngest nephew, yet he was a damn good musician. Whenever his band played on the common, they drew the biggest crowds. He’d heard they drew big crowds when they played the clubs in Boston and Providence, but he’d never cared enough to find out if it was true.
Leaning back against the large oak, his eyes wandered over the crowd. There wasn’t a single face he didn’t recognize. Slowly, his gaze returned to the tall slim figure swaying with the music in front of him. She hadn’t stopped moving since she pulled him to the dance floor and tried to coax him into dancing, but when he refused a second time she joined the edge of the crowd, leaving him to watch her. Something he found quite enjoyable—maybe too enjoyable. Dressed in short denim shorts and a bright red top, every one of her curves were on display, especially her glorious legs. The damn things went on forever. And he wasn’t the only one to notice. Ever male that walked by, regardless of age, slowed to admire her.
As he continued to watch her, he let his mind think back to earlier that evening. When five o’clock had come and gone and she hadn’t appeared, he’d assumed she’d changed her mind. While he didn’t care if she had (actually he had assumed she would), he was still annoyed and had found it rude of her not to at least let him know. But when she had apologized and explained her tardiness, he had been excited and surprised to discover that he’d actually been looking forward to seeing her again. He hadn’t even minded that they were going to the town block party, something he had skipped most of the time. In fact, he had been proud to take her there.
On the stage, Gage stopped singing and announced, “We’re taking a break. We’ll be back in thirty minutes. While you’re waiting, why not head over to the dunk tank and see if you can get Mr. Rizzo.” A cheer went up from the teens on the dance floor and several headed in that direction.
&nb
sp; Mia turned and walked back toward him, her long legs quickly eating up the couple of yards between them. As she walked his eyes zeroed in on the way her hips swayed, reminding him more of a lingerie model making her way down the runway at a fashion show than someone crossing the town common. Red hot desire ignited something inside him, and every part of his body went on high alert. Sean wasn’t a monk, but he’d never gotten this turned on by simply watching a woman walk toward him. Then again, North Salem didn’t have any women who looked like Mia Troy walking around.
“I saw someone pass by with some fried dough. I can’t remember the last time I had that.” Mia stopped in front of him, her hands shoved in her back pockets.
“Food is this way.” Sean pushed off the tree and started toward the top of the common. “The church always sells fried dough and homemade apple cider donuts.” As they crossed the common, they received a few glances from other people and several called out hellos, but no one seemed to recognize Mia. Since she’d dressed casually and put all her hair under a baseball cap, he guessed she wanted it that way. Not that he blamed her. On the one occasion he’d visited his sister and brother in-law in Virginia he’d had his own run in with the paparazzi. It had been enough to last him a couple lifetimes.
Several tables and carts lined the top of the common, selling everything from fried dough to burgers and sausage subs. The smells all mixed together, creating a unique carnival aroma.
Sean stopped next to a cart where an elderly widow kept an eye on several electric skillets filled with hot oil. “Two fried doughs, please, Mrs. Mitchell.” Without a second thought, he pulled a five dollar bill from his wallet and handed it over.
“I’m glad you made it out tonight, Sean.” Mrs. Mitchell handed him two paper plates. “There’s powdered sugar as well as cinnamon and cocoa down there.” She glanced at Mia for a moment and then looked back at Sean and smiled. “Tell your mom I’ll see her on Thursday.”
“I will.” Sean handed one plate to Mia as they walked away. “It’s still very hot.”
“Thanks. You didn’t have to buy it.”
Sean shrugged and loaded his snack with powdered sugar. Across from him, Mia added a dusting of sugar and then cinnamon to her own before she tore off a tiny piece and popped it in her mouth.
“Come on. There’s a table over there.” Sean pointed with his paper plate and Mia fell into step next to him, her arm brushing against his every now and then, heating his blood.
“I’d forgotten how good this is.” Once seated, she tore off another piece and popped it in her mouth. When she darted her tongue out to lick the sugar from her fingers, his eyes followed, unable to look away.
“So who’s the man in the tank over there? A lot of kids seemed excited about dunking him.” Mia’s voice invaded the wayward thought he’d started having, which involved her long slender fingers and his naked body.
Sean glanced down and tore a piece off his own fried treat. “Mr. Rizzo is the high school principal. He lost a bet with one of his classes his first year teaching here, and he’s gone into the dunk tank once a year ever since. He always does it at the first block party of the year.”
Mia leaned her forearms on the table, her eyes bright with curiosity. “Really. What was the bet?”
“He taught math, and his first year here he had one class where more than half the students were failing. He said if everyone passed for the year, he’d get in the tank for the night. If even one student failed, they all had to take a turn in the tank before the end of the summer.”
“And everyone passed?”
With a mouthful of food, Sean nodded. “After that he made the same bet with one class each year at the start of the school year. And every year he ended up in the tank. When he became principal about five years ago, he just kept volunteering. By then it had become a tradition.”
“You seem to know everyone,” she said when Sean waved to Lee Beverly as he walked by them.
“That’s what happens when you live in a small town all your life.”
“I think it’s nice.” She tore off another piece of dough, but this time he maintained eye contact. He couldn’t watch her tongue licking sugar off her fingers again. His body could only take so much torture at one time.
Before he offered his opinion, Brendan Michaels plopped down next to Mia, and the whole picnic table shook. Immediately the stench of stale beer reached him from across the table. Two years younger than Sean, they’d played sports together in high school and even back then the guy had been an ass. Age had not improved him. If anything it had made him more of a jerk.
“Hey there, darlin’,” Brendan drawled. Despite living in Massachusetts for over twenty years now, he still spoke with a southern accent, especially when drunk. “How about we have a drink together?”
Mia inched away. “No, thanks.”
“Then what do you say we ditch O’Brien here and go have some fun? I promise you won’t be disappointed, babe.” Brendan threw an arm around Mia’s shoulders and pulled her close.
“She already said no, Brendan. Beat it.”
Brendan looked over at him, his arm still across Mia’s shoulders. “Get lost, O’Brien. This is between me and the lady,” he said before he looked back over at Mia. “Come on. Say yes. We’ll have fun, I promise.”
Mia removed Brendan’s arm and stood. “I appreciate the offer, but I’m not interested.” Her voice remained remarkably polite considering the ass next to her.
Over the years he’d seen this particular scene play out and had been forced to intervene on more than one occasion. So it came as no surprise when Brendan stood and reached for Mia’s hand, unwilling to take no for an answer.
“Come on, darlin’, is that any way to be?”
Sean shot up and inserted himself between Brendan and Mia. “She said no.”
Narrowing his eyes, Brendan took a step closer. “I don’t remember asking you,” he said, the stench of beer on his breath enough to get someone drunk.
“Let’s just go, Sean,” Mia said from behind him, her voice containing a hint of unease.
Prepared to tell her not to worry, he began to turn, when Brendan’s fist connected with his jaw. Pain shot up through his face, and he spun back around as Brendan swung at him again. Prepared this time, he stepped to the right all the while keeping Mia behind him, safe from Brendan’s swing.
When Brendan’s fist connected with nothing but air, he lost his balance and fell to the ground.
“Leave her alone, Brendan. She’s not interested,” Sean said. His voice contained a clear warning of what would happen if Brendan bothered Mia again while she was in town. While he never sought out fights, he had the skills to decimate an opponent if the need arose.
From the ground, Brendan glared up at him but didn’t get back up. Instead he studied Mia, who now stood next to Sean, her arm brushing against his.
“You should mind your own business, O’Brien,” Brendan said, as a small group formed around them.
“Let’s go, Sean.” A soft hand touched his forearm, and he looked over at Mia who watched the growing crowd with alarm.
“Get off your ass, Brendan.”
Sean looked back as Brendan’s older brother, Liam, helped him up. Sean and Liam had graduated together, and Liam knew what a jerk his brother could be.
“I suggest you get him home and make sure you keep him away from my friend,” Sean said, before taking Mia by the hand and leading her away from the crowd.
He kept her hand in his as they crossed the common. On the stage the band started back up, but Mia didn’t mention dancing again. In fact, she remained silent until they climbed in his truck.
He started up the truck but kept it in park. “I’m sorry about that scene back there. Not everyone in town is like that.” He looked over at her as he spoke. Her carefree attitude from earlier no longer lit up her face, but at the same time she appeared calm.
“There’s nothing for you to be sorry about. It wasn’t your fault.” Mia m
et his gaze. “And thank you for your help.”
Heat climbed up his neck and he looked out the windshield. “Don’t mention it. Brendan gets like that when he’s drunk. He always has, even in high school.”
“Does it hurt?” she asked with genuine concern.
He almost asked what she referred to when her fingers slid across his jaw and the heat he’d felt a moment before spread.
“There’s already a bruise there.”
Uncomfortable with the concern he heard, he cleared his throat. “I’m fine.” From the corner of his eye, he saw Mia fold her hands in her lap, but his skin still burned where her fingers had been. “Are you okay?” he asked to fill the silence. Normally, he liked the quiet. Tonight, seated in the cab of his truck with this beautiful woman, he found it oppressive.
“Great. I had fun, well, until that anyway. It’s been a long time since I went to an event like that.”
Neither spoke again until they walked inside The Victorian Rose. The entire first floor appeared empty, but all the lights remained on.
“Thank you again for everything tonight.” Mia pulled the baseball cap off her head. “If you’re not busy, maybe we can go out again while I’m here.”
The overhead lights bounced off her hair, picking up the golden highlights, and he focused on that as his brain registered her words. He’d assumed that morning’s invitation came because she didn’t want to attend the town block party alone. This invitation didn’t fit with that assumption.
“Tomorrow I’m having dinner in Boston with an old friend, but maybe another night this week?”
“Yeah, sure.” No single straight man alive would turn down Mia Troy.
Mia’s famous smile spread across her face, making her look more like the movie star that graced the covers of magazines than the woman he’d eaten fried dough with at the party. Using all his will power he forced himself not to move closer and kiss her.
“Great. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Without any warning, Mia took a step closer and dropped a kiss on the developing bruise. “Goodnight. Thank you again.”
The simple kiss sent all the blood in his body south. “Goodnight.” Confused, he watched her climb the stairs, then with a slight shake of his head, he turned and went toward the kitchen. He needed something ice cold to cool him off before he set the entire house on fire.