Her Sexiest Mistake

faults and all, had at least been able to laugh at herself. 'You know what? You're right. I wouldn't understand. I was never desperate to get away. Desperate to find something new, a place where I could grab my future.'

Hope blinked. 'You… really felt that way?'

'Every. Single. Day.'

'Desperate to get out?' Hope pressed. 'Like… like you were going to die if you didn't?'

Humor gone now, Mia nodded.

Hope just stared at her. 'So…'

'Yeah.'

They actually had something in common. Neither of them said it out loud, though. Nope, the Appleby women had pride in spades, so much so they often couldn't get out of their own way.

Hope busied herself playing with the blanket over her legs. Clearly she wanted to say something, probably how eternally grateful she was that Mia had taken her in, that she hadn't been shipped back immediately.

'So what's wrong with your eyebrow? I mean, it looks pretty stupid.'

Honestly, the love in the room was simply overwhelming. Mia put a finger to the singed spot and sighed. 'Long story.'

'I have some black eyebrow pencil.'

Yeah, that would fix it. 'Thanks, but I'll manage. So. A week in California.'

'You've got the most God-awful traffic here.'

'Oh, trust me, you've seen nothing yet. You'll get a good glimpse of it this morning, though.'

'Why?'

'Because I have to go to work. We're going to have to find somewhere for you to go for the day. Kevin said something about a teen center next to the high school. I think they do day trips-you should get to see something fun today.'

Hope looked horrified at the thought. 'A teen center?'

'Well, I can't just leave you here.'

'What's the matter Apple Pie, you don't trust me with the family china?' she drawled.

'Or the silverware,' Mia drawled right back.

When Hope just exuded hostility, Mia smiled. 'If you don't like being treated like a thief, first order of business-stop stealing. And don't ever call me that again, by the way.'

'I didn't take that lipstick.'

'Whatever, Sticky Fingers.' Mia stood up. 'Fact remains, I can't leave you here to terrorize my neighbors.'

'Yeah, Sexy Old Guy looked real scared of me.'

'If you're referring to Kevin, he's only thirty-something.'

'Like I said, old.'

Mia's jaw tightened. 'Get dressed. Do you have anything that's not black?'

'No.'

'We'll go shopping after I get off work.'

'On your dime?'

'Would that make you move faster? Fifteen minutes.'

'I need more like thirty. And can we go to the grocery store and get some food, too? Or do you plan to starve me?'

'Tell you what. I'll give you fifteen minutes now, and fifteen more tomorrow morning. And if you pull it off, yeah, we'll hit the grocery store and load up on any and all the disgusting food your heart desires. Get going.'

Hope buried her head beneath her pillow, but when Mia pulled the door shut behind her, she heard the rustling of the covers, signifying she was at least moving.

***

Kevin woke up with the alarm at what felt like only five seconds after he'd laid his head down, having dreamed of Mia in that damn wet silk, the material clinging to every inch of her, the look on her face as he nudged her over the edge, the way his name sounded on her lips.

A scalding shower might help marginally, he decided. Walking by Mike's bedroom, he heard the snores emitting and, not feeling kind, made the house shake when he slammed the bathroom door. It brought a sliver of grim satisfaction.

The hot shower did not, as it brought more thoughts of Mia.

Next time she came knocking, wearing only thin silk, dripping wet, eyes large and luminous, mouth full and wanting his, he wouldn't open the door.

Yeah, right.

But he sure as hell wouldn't dream about her all night. He had other things to be thinking about. Such as his job and how he'd been given every troubled kid in the entire school because he was the new guy. But he'd deal with that, and his resident pot smoker. He'd deal with a boneheaded principal who only cared about the bottom line and not which kids were slipping through the cracks.

And he'd deal with his brother, who was too old to still be slipping. He'd deal with all of it and be fine, like always.

He turned off the water only when it ran out of hot. Deal with that, Mike. He'd just reached for his towel when he heard it. Or felt it, rather. The heavy, rhythmic boom of a low bass so loud it hit in tune with his every heartbeat.

This street was mostly fancy white-bread, so the music, sounding like rap now that he opened his bathroom window and stuck his head out, wasn't the typical music for the crowd that lived here.

Interesting.

More interesting, the music came from the direction of Mia's house. He pulled on his clothes and walked into the kitchen.

Mike had gotten up and sat at the table with a pad of paper and a pencil. Shocking, as Mike didn't usually rise before noon. His back to Kevin, he was hunched over the paper, erasing something and making a low-pitched sound that from a hearing person would have been frustrated muttering.

Kevin peeked over his shoulder.

To do, Mike had written.

Whatever he'd written beneath that he was now desperately erasing. The page ripped and he growled, tearing the piece of paper off the pad, crumpling it up, and tossing it in the corner with a grand gesture.

When he saw Kevin, he went still for a startled beat, then put on a lazy smile. Morning.

What was that? You making a to-do list?

Mike's smile faded. So?

So you've never been organized before. What was on it?

A reminder to pick up your no-more-nosy pills.

Funny. Kevin went for the piece of paper, but Mike shoved him back, hard enough that he plowed into the refrigerator. The bag of potato chips on top of it hit him in the head, raining chips all over him.

Mike smirked.

Kevin smirked back, then dove for the paper.

Mike dove, too, and they landed in a heap on the floor, crunching chips into dust beneath them.

Specifically beneath Kevin, who was on the bottom, damn it. 'Get off, you lug-