Chapter 4
“So are you ready to leave yet?” Avery asked a few days later. “I can book you a room in Boston. Or maybe you can meet me in New York. I planned to stop there for a few days before coming to Boston. I can push up my plans. We could go shopping, maybe catch a show on Broadway.”
Mia stood next to her bedroom window. Facing the back of the house, she saw the white gazebo surrounded by colorful flowers. The day before she’d taken a book out there and read for hours. Today the gazebo remained empty, and ominous dark clouds hung low in the sky.
“No, I’m good. I went to visit Gram and Pop a few days ago, and the other night I went to a town block party.” Outside, Sean’s huge Irish Wolfhound, Max, crossed the yard. She’d never realized how big the breed was until the dog had joined her in the gazebo while she read. “I had dinner with Casey this week, too. She works at a law office in Boston.”
“Seriously, Mia, a town block party? It’s worse than I thought.”
Even when they’d lived in Woodlawn before Mia landed her first TV role, Avery had disliked small town life. She constantly bugged her mom to take her into Boston or New York. After moving to California and spending most of her time in cities, her disdain for small towns only grew.
“How boring was that?”
“Knock it off, Avery. I had fun.” The memory of eating fried dough covered with cinnamon and sugar came to the forefront of her mind. Quickly that memory faded and was replaced by the image of Sean protecting her from the drunk guy. She’d never had a guy intervene on her behalf like that. Sure she’d had a bodyguard to keep over-zealous fans or photographers away, but she paid them to do that. If not for the fat paychecks they received, she doubted most would lift a finger for her. Sean had stepped in because he wanted to, and she found that incredibly sexy.
“If you say so. How’s Gram and Pop?” Avery asked, sounding unconvinced.
“They’re fine. They want us to come by when you get here.” From the other side of the yard, Sean appeared, walking the same path his dog had a moment earlier, a tool box in his hand. She’d only seen him once since Saturday night. Sunday she spent most of the day in Boston with Casey, one of the few friends she’d stayed in contact with after leaving Harvard, and the day before his truck had been gone most of the day.
“Hello, Mia. Did you hear me?”
“Sorry, what?” Mia asked as Sean disappeared from her line of sight.
“Did you see Rae Ann? She called me the other day, but I was out.” Born a month apart, Avery and their cousin Rae Ann had always been close despite the distance between them.
“She stopped by for a little while. Did you know she’s pregnant again? She’s due in December.”
For another twenty minutes or so Avery bombarded her with questions about the family.
“Maybe you should skip New York and come here and visit everyone. Gram and Pop would love to see you. You could stay here with me for a few days. I can check with Sean and see if he has any vacancies soon.”
“Sean?”
“The owner, well, one of the owners here. He and his mom run the bed and breakfast.” Outside a huge flash of light erupted across the sky followed by a clap of thunder.
“I know all about The Victorian Rose. I just didn’t realize you were on a first name basis with the owners.”
Mia didn’t miss the curiosity in her sister’s voice.
“Are you having a little extra fun while you’re out there? Is that why you are so eager to stick around?”
Another flash of light lit up the dark afternoon sky and a deluge of rain hit the window. “Knock it off, Avery. I’m not doing anything but relaxing. Seriously, why don’t you fly out here early and stay with me? I can pick you up in Boston. It’ll be fun.”
“I’ll think about it. And before I forget, I ran into Brad St. Pierre at Club 20 last weekend. He asked about you.”
Mia rolled her eyes. She’d first met Brad when she’d gone back to acting after an attempt at college. They’d dated on and off for years, but after their last break up she’d promised herself no more. Brad was a nice guy, but they’d tried it enough times now to know it didn’t work between them. “If you see him again tell him I said hello. I don’t think I’ve seen him since last November.”
When her sister started with the usual questions about her failed attempts at romance with Brad, Mia brought the conversation to an end. For whatever reason, her sister never understood why they couldn’t work things out.
Outside, Sean appeared again, this time heading back toward the house. Tossing her phone down, she headed downstairs in the hopes of intercepting him. They still hadn’t agreed on another date and, man, if she didn’t want to do that. The man occupied way too many of her thoughts for her not get to know him better before she left North Salem.
Sean came around the corner into the back hallway just as she reached the bottom step. Drenched from head to toe, water dripped down his face and his dark gray T-shirt was plastered to his body, clearly outlining the hard, well-formed muscles it covered. Living and working in Hollywood, she’d come in contact with plenty of drop-dead sexy men, yet for some reason the sight of Sean stopped her short. Was it because he’d refined his body through real hard work rather than a combination of steroids and hours with a personal trainer? Or maybe it was the combination of the ugly purple bruise on his face and the thin scar near his right eye that gave him that bad boy look so many men strived for but most never quite achieved. Whatever it was, Sean had it.
“Sean, I hoped to see you today,” Mia said, acting as if she hadn’t used the back stairway knowing he was on his way inside.
“Is something wrong?” He met and held her gaze, not once looking anywhere but her face.
She stepped off the bottom step and smiled at him. “No. I wondered if you were busy tonight. If you’re free I thought we could go out.”
When he stared at her, she wondered if perhaps she had food from lunch stuck in her teeth or something. She didn’t ask men out often, but when she did, they said yes without blinking an eye. It had always been that way, so Sean’s continued silence surprised her.
“What did you have in mind? I need to stick around here until Ma gets back. She drove a friend to a doctor’s appointment in Boston.”
“Honestly, I thought maybe a ghost tour in Salem, but now it’s raining so maybe just dinner.” The attraction booklet in her room listed the ghost tours as a popular event held every night from mid-spring until Thanksgiving.
“She’s supposed to be home around six, but with traffic you never know.”
How awful it must be to always have every minute of your life dictated by others. “I don’t mind waiting. Find me when she gets home.”
“Will do.” Sean moved closer to the staircase. “I need to change.”
“See you later.” She smiled again and watched him head up the stairs. When she’d decided on a little vacation before work started on the movie, dating hadn’t been on her agenda. Regardless, it was there now. Humming to herself she consider what outfit she should wear tonight as she popped into the kitchen. Then after grabbing an iced tea, she returned to her room and the script on her nightstand. Over the years she’d developed the reputation of always being well-prepared for scenes. Right now she didn’t consider herself even close to prepared for her upcoming role.
After a few hours of reading over the script, Mia tossed the pages down and pulled off the glasses she only used for reading. So focused on the script, she had lost track of time, and now the clock next to her bed read six thirty. Since Sean hadn’t come up looking for her, his mother must not be home yet. Rather than sit around and wait for him, she checked her reflection in the bathroom mirror, then went in search of him.
She’d just reached the bottom steps to the front foyer when the door opened and a man, perhaps in his early fifties, walked in. Well over six feet tall, the man had a full head of dark blond hair streaked with gray, and his face was covered by a well-trimmed beard
. She’d never laid eyes on him before, yet somehow he looked familiar. He wasn’t a guest. She’d met all of them over the past few days. Perhaps this was Ray, the man Maureen played bridge with.
Mia smiled and wondered if she should say something. On the day she’d arrived, Maureen had appeared just moments after she walked in. Right now, though, the seconds ticked by and Maureen wasn’t here. Neither was Sean.
“Do you know if Sean O’Brien is around?” the man at the door asked as he glanced around.
“He should be. He’s probably in the office, I can go check for you.”
The man’s gaze focused on her face, and she knew he was trying to place her. “Yeah. I’ll wait here. Thanks.”
She considered asking him for his name, but then thought better of it. The man didn’t seem interested in talking to her, and she didn’t want to draw to much attention to herself.
Seated in front of the computer, Sean’s hands danced across the keyboard, his eyes glued to the screen. He’d exchanged his wet clothes from earlier for a dark blue Harley-Davidson T-shirt and well-worn jeans.
She remained in the doorway unable to draw her eyes away from his work-worn hands as an image of them moving across her body materialized. “Hi, Sean. There’s someone here asking for you.”.
Sean’s hands stilled but hovered over the keyboard as he turned his gaze toward her. “Now? We’re not expecting any guests today.”
She shrugged. She’d seen the no vacancy sign out front, so she knew there were no rooms available tonight. Then again, the guy in the foyer hadn’t said he was checking in and he didn’t have any luggage. “He didn’t say he wanted a room, but he did ask for you by name.”
Sean stood and rubbed his forehead. “Thanks. I’ll take care of it.”
With her message delivered, Mia wandered toward the kitchen. While Sean handled the visitor she’d make coffee and then maybe visit with him for a while. She’d had enough solitude for the day. Besides, Maureen was due home at any time, and then they could go out. Now that she realized how late it was, she was starving. She’d just popped an individual coffee packet in the single cup machine when she heard Sean’s raised voice.
“Get out of here. Now.” Controlled anger radiated from his voice.
Curiosity piqued, she left the coffee behind and went through the swinging door into the dining room. The visitor looked unaffected by Sean’s command. Sean on the other hand appeared ready for battle. His legs were braced apart, his hands formed fists by his sides, and his jaw was working overtime on grinding his teeth to dust.
When the visitor took a few steps closer to Sean, Mia figured he was either stupid or blind. If someone who looked like Sean glared at her that way, she’d run the other way and not look back.
“I just want to talk, son.” The man stopped only an arm’s length away from Sean, his voice calm.
Mia now realized why he’d looked so familiar: he was an older version of Sean.
Sean had walked into the foyer expecting a solicitor or maybe even a reporter. Even now, a year after his sister’s marriage into the Sherbrooke family, they stopped by from time to time. When he spotted the man waiting for him, though, rage consumed him. Although much older than he remembered, Sean recognized him immediately.
“I said leave.” He tensed the muscles in his upper arm and forced himself not to take a swing at his father. At any moment a guest could walk in; finding him in a fight would be disastrous.
“A son should show his father a little more respect.”
His head filled with red, his body and brain stopped communicating with each other and he took a step forward. From somewhere outside his body he registered that he’d raised his fist, prepared to do the one thing he’d dreamed of doing for the past eighteen years. Through the boiling rage in his head, he felt something warm and soft on his forearm. Slowly, his brain identified the object as a hand on his arm and he stopped in mid-swing toward his father’s face.
“You’re not welcome here.” He’d like nothing more than to open the door and kick his father’s ass out, but the last thing the bed and breakfast needed was a lawsuit.
His father glanced over at Mia who stood next to him, her hand still on his arm was a reminder that he was running a business.
“I’ll leave, but, Sean, all I want to do is talk.” His father nodded toward Mia. “Maybe your girlfriend can convince you to listen.”
A swear-laden retort sat on his tongue, but he kept it from spilling out. Instead he stood frozen as his father walked out of the door, taking him back eighteen years to the last time he’d seen his father walk out the very same door.
It had been the morning of the homecoming football game his senior year. His mother and sister were already in the kitchen eating breakfast, but he’d just come downstairs. Although his father occasionally worked Saturdays, Sean thought he would come to his game that afternoon. Not only was he the captain and starting quarterback, but the team had been undefeated so far that season. Rumor had it that recruiters from the University of Florida would be there today. Already Boston College had shown interest in him and his fellow teammate, Tony Bates. While Tony planned to accept a scholarship from Boston College if they offered, he’d been more interested in the University of Florida. More than anything, he longed to get away from North Salem.
When he questioned his father that morning, he’d only gotten a “can’t make it today maybe next week.” Although disappointed, he brushed it off. That afternoon his team crushed the team from Danvers, and recruiters from the University of Florida had spoken to him right before he and Amy Osborne, the captain of the cheerleading squad, were crowned homecoming king and queen.
He went to the dance that night with Amy glued to his side. They’d snuck out of the dance early and had their own little homecoming celebration inside the refreshment stand near the football field. Sometime well after midnight he came home, and his mother’s car was the only one in the driveway. Both his mom and sister were asleep, but a snack sat on the kitchen table for him. It wasn’t the first time he’d come home late and his father wasn’t around. If the rumors were true, his father was seeing a waitress from The Oyster Box, a restaurant in the next town over.
Sean had been hearing rumors about his father and two uncles since he was fifteen. Deep down, he knew they were true, but he always pushed them into the deep recesses of his mind. Whenever he let them come up, guilt plagued him. If the rumors were true, his mother had the right to know. At the same time, he told himself it wasn’t his place to tell her. Besides, more than likely she heard the rumors around town, too. Gossip spread like wildfire around North Salem. If she had heard them and chose to stay with her husband anyway, it wasn’t any of his business, so he kept his mouth shut.
The next morning when he came down to breakfast, his father’s car was still absent—and that day his life had been altered forever. A whole week passed before anyone heard from Seamus O’Brien again. Via a short phone call, he informed his family that he’d moved to Florida and wanted a divorce. He hadn’t asked to speak with either of his children. Instead he’d asked for some of his possessions to be shipped to him. Since then, Sean had seen his father once. The day he’d accompanied his mother to the courthouse for the divorce proceedings.
“Are you okay?”
Mia’s voice pulled Sean back to the present. He roughly scrubbed a hand across his face and shoved the memories back into their little box. “Yeah. Thank you. You kept that scene from getting ugly.”
Mia gave him a small shrug. “Don’t mention it. I’m just glad I could help.” She smiled at him and his heart all but flipped in his chest.
“I can’t—” Sean began to say but paused when he heard footsteps.
“Sean, are you done with the computer in the office?”
“Don’t tell her about that. She doesn’t need to know.” He kept his voice low as the swinging door between the kitchen and dining room opened. “All set, Ma. Do whatever you need.”
“Have
you two already eaten? If not, I can make you something.” His mother stopped in the dining room entrance.
The rage that had overwhelmed him when he saw his father increased another few notches when he thought of how easily his mom could have walked in on all that. Biting back another curse, he shook his head. In his current state, eating was out of the question. “I—”
“We might go out later,” Mia said before he could finish. She slid her hand down his forearm and wrapped her fingers around his fist. “We were just waiting for you to come home.”
He knew he didn’t imagine the spark of pleasure he saw on his mom’s face. Mia’s earlier invitation had evaporated from his mind with the appearance of his father.
“If you do, have fun. I’ll see you both later.” She didn’t ask any more questions. Instead she disappeared the way she’d come in.
“Excuse me.” If Mia said anything he didn’t hear her. He pulled away and headed for the basement and the punching bag hanging down there.
His right fist hit the bag and the beam holding it up creaked. Immediately he swung his left arm, making contact with the bag before it swung back toward him. Focused on his fists hitting the stand-in for his father, he didn’t realize anyone had followed him down until he heard the creak of the bottom step. That step had creaked for as long as he could remember, no matter what he did to it.
“Does that help?” She kept a good distance away from the swinging punching bag.
Not one damn bit. “I’m sorry about the scene up there.” He didn’t want her or any other guest leaving a bad review on some website because his deadbeat dad decided now was a good time to make an appearance.
“It wasn’t your fault. Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone about it.”
She moved a few steps closer, and the slightest hint of perfume, or maybe her shampoo, tickled his nose. He noticed it upstairs in the foyer as well. It reminded him of the beach and the ocean.
“I’m ready to go, unless you changed your mind.”
Sean raked his hand through his hair as the bag continued to swing. “You don’t want to be around me tonight.” Hell, he didn’t want to be around himself. “I’m sorry. Maybe some other time.” If his buddies ever learned he turned down a night out with Mia Troy, they’d think he’d gone nuts, and probably at some point in the future he’d be kicking himself in the ass for doing it. Right now, however, it seemed like the right thing.
He waited for her to tell him it was now or never and march back up the stairs. Instead she took a seat on the bench near his free weights.
“When I’m angry I call my older sister, Avery, and we have a bitch fest. Doesn’t usually solve anything, but it makes me feel better.”
Sean smirked. “A bitch fest? I doubt that will help here.”
“You never know. Why don’t you have a seat and give it a try.” Mia patted bench next to her. “I promise I won’t bite, and I’m a good listener.”
A little of the anger in his chest dissolved as he laughed at Mia’s comment. The woman was like none of the other celebrities that had stayed at The Victorian Rose. “I think a beer would be more helpful than a bitch fest. Do you want one?”
When she nodded he led her over to the finished portion of the basement where he kept his pool table and refrigerator as well as a card table and several folding chairs. Grabbing two bottles from the refrigerator, he popped off the tops and handed her one. “Sorry, I don’t keep any glasses down here.”
Accepting the bottle, she walked over to the pool table and ran a hand along its side. “You were hitting that bag pretty hard. Do you box or something?”
He leaned against one of the columns that braced the ceiling. “No. But I have always found the bag a good way to get rid of anger.”
Mia nodded before she took a tiny sip. “You could have done some serious damage to that guy at the block party.”
“I had a sensei who drilled into us the importance of avoiding fights whenever possible. He said we should only use physical violence as a last resort. I try to remember that . . .” He raised the bottle toward his mouth. “But if you hadn’t stopped me tonight, I wouldn’t have cared.”
“Have your parents been divorced long?”
Sean took a long swallow from his beer before he answered. “About eighteen years now.” He watched as Mia lifted the bottle to her mouth and took a sip. The celebrity actress he’d seen on countless magazine covers looked like someone who would sit sipping fruity cocktails with tiny umbrellas. Yet the woman standing in front of him, wearing jeans, looked natural holding a bottle of his favorite beer.
“My parents almost got a divorce when I was fifteen. They were separated for six months before they went to couple’s therapy.” She picked up one of the solid balls on the pool table. “I was so angry at them. Especially my mom. I didn’t talk to her for a month.”
He listened, waiting for her to get to her point.
“How long have you been fighting with your dad?” she asked, letting the ball slide out of her hand.
“We’re not fighting.” To say they were fighting insinuated they had some kind of father-son relationship.
“You yelled at him to leave. Sounds like fighting to me.”
“That’s the first time I’ve spoken to the as—” Sean caught himself just in time “—guy in about eighteen years.”
“Oh,” Mia said, her eyes growing wide. “I’m . . .” Her voice trailed off.
“Ma doesn’t need to know he was here.” His mother never mentioned her ex-husband and Sean didn’t know how she would react if she knew he’d been there. After Seamus O’Brien walked out on them, she’d changed, and it had taken years for her to become more like the mother he remembered from his childhood. He didn’t want some unexpected visit from the no good bastard to upset her and destroy all the progress she’d made.
“I promise she won’t hear anything from me, Sean.”
Perhaps it was the sincerity in Mia’s voice, but he believed her. If somehow his mother heard his father was in town, it wouldn’t be from the woman in front of him. “Thanks. I appreciate it.”
Mia took another sip of her beer and then placed the nearly full bottle on the card table. “Do you play often?” She inclined her head toward the pool table.
He wished she would stop jumping from topic to topic like that. “Not as much as I used to.”
“I’ve always wanted to try.” She walked over to where the pool sticks hung on the wall and took one off the rack. “What do you say? Can you give me a lesson?”
Remarkably, the rage that had ruled his entire body was more like a simmering anger now. In its place was rampant curiosity and a physical attraction to the beautiful woman on the other side of the pool table. The one he wanted to pull into his arms and kiss.
She accepted the square of chalk he held out to her and applied it to the end of the pool stick as Sean instructed her while he arranged the balls in the triangle on the table. She could still see the tension in his shoulders, but he no longer looked about to explode. His face had returned to its normal shade, and she no longer feared he might crush his teeth. She wondered what the story was between Sean and his father. She’d never seen anyone react to a parent like that before. Sure she’d been known to get into disagreements with her parents, especially her mom, but she’d never toss either of them out of her house.
“You want to hold the stick like this,” Sean said grabbing her attention. His left hand rested on the pool table while his right held the wider end of the stick. “Then line everything up.” Sean demonstrated by hitting the white cue ball. It instantly broke apart the neat triangle in the center of the table, causing a purple striped ball to roll into a corner pocket. “Give it a try.”
That looked easy. Mia positioned the stick, pulled back her arm, and managed to send the cue ball up into the air before it landed on the felt top with a thud. “What the heck? Why did it do that?”
“You’re hold on the stick is wrong and you made contact with the cue
ball at the wrong angle.” He came around from the other side and stepped behind her. “Put you left hand more like this.”
His hand covered hers as he repositioned it higher on the pool stick. The calluses on his hands were rough against her skin. His warm breath brushed against her cheek, driving home just how close Sean stood next to her.
“And your right hand needs to be lower.” He placed his hand over hers.
Mia took a step back toward him as he moved her hand down. His strong solid body pressed against her back and the memory of him earlier, drenched to the bone, his T-shirt glued to him, formed in her mind and heat collected in belly.
“Pool is all about geometry,” he explained in his no nonsense tone.
Her eyes followed his hands as he guided the pool stick for her, and his words fell into the background as the desire to kiss him engulfed her.
“Once you line up the shot, make sure you keep the movements smooth and controlled,” he said, helping her finish the shot. On the table, the cue ball struck a striped yellow ball that rolled into a side pocket.
Sean began to move his hand, but Mia grabbed it and spun around to face him before she thought better of it.
“Do you want—” Sean began, meeting her gaze.
Mia leaned closer cutting off the rest of the sentence with a kiss. He remained rigid against her even when she released his hand so she could circle her arms around his neck. She tugged on his bottom lip with her teeth, frustrated when he made no move to intensify the kiss. The only response she got was a set of hands on her hips. While his reaction should have discouraged Mia, it had the opposite effect on her. Men always responded to her and she planned to get Sean to as well.
Pressing her body against his until no space remained, she smiled to herself when she felt his breathing change. Then she pulled her mouth away and switched her attention to his ear. In response Sean groaned, dug his fingers into her waist and then pushed her away from him.
Mia’s eyes popped open. “What’s the matter?”
Sean studied her, his eyes a deeper shade of green now. “You’re a guest. That shouldn’t have happened.”
“Why?” She took a step closer again and laid a hand on his cheek, not far from the bruise he’d earned at the block party.
Reaching up he pulled her hand away, but he held onto it. “It’s unprofessional and bad for business.”
With a laugh she took another step closer. “It’s only bad for business if you kiss everyone who stays here. I don’t see anyone else around.” She saw the indecision in his eyes, and by the way he kept looking at her lips, she knew he wanted to kiss her again. “I promise not to tell anyone about this either,” she said, her voice low and seductive. She kissed him again before he could argue.
Unlike the first kiss, Sean didn’t hold anything back this time. He took control of the kiss, his tongue slipping between her lips as his hands dug into her hair.
“Sean, I need your help. The pipes under the sink are leaking.” Maureen’s voice, along with the sound of footsteps on the basement stairs, reached through the desire filling her brain.
Sean’s hands paused in her hair and he kissed her one more time before pulling away. “Be right up, Ma.” He dropped his hands to her shoulders.
The footsteps stopped. “Thank you,” Maureen called down.
Sean’s chest rose and fell against her as he took a deep breath, the effort to regain his composure evident.
“Are you busy tomorrow night?” Mia asked. “I still want to take one of those ghost tours in Salem.”
Sean didn’t answer, so she took a step away to look at his face. His eyes were locked on the far wall and his lips were pressed together tightly. “What do you say?”
“Sure. I need to stick around here until five o’clock, but after that is fine.”
“Great. I’ll make dinner reservations for around six. Is there any type of food you don’t like?” Sean struck her as a meat and potatoes kind of guy, but appearances could be deceiving.
His hands dropped from her shoulders. “I’ll eat anything but sushi. Pick someplace you’ll enjoy.”
She’d never acquired a taste for sushi either, despite her younger sister, Angelina’s, best efforts at broadening her palate.
“Feel free to stay down here and practice if you want. I don’t know how long this will take.”
Mia picked up the pool stick again. “Thanks, I think I will.”
With nothing more than a nod, he walked away. When she heard the basement door close, she took another sip from her beer, then attempted to line up a shot. Careful to follow Sean’s instructions, she drew the stick back and made contact with the white cue ball. Unlike her first attempt, the ball stayed on the table and rolled a few inches before knocking into a solid orange ball.
Not perfect, but better. Determined to at least get one ball in a pocket on her own, she walked to the other side of the table and tried again. After two more tries the solid red ball dropped into the left side pocket. With one enemy down, she turned her sights on the solid orange one again.