A Million Little Things (Mischief Bay, #3)

Even so, her fingers trembled as she typed, sure.

I’ll be there in fifteen minutes. I’ll bring the limes.

Limes? What did that mean? Was it code for—She groaned. It wasn’t code for anything. The man’s family made tequila. He probably always had limes on him.

She stood and stared at Lulu. “We’re going to have company.”

The little dog scrambled to her feet, as if she understood the urgency of the situation, if not the particulars.

Pam scanned her living room. The condo wasn’t large—just two bedrooms, a living room and kitchen/dining area. She’d been used to taking care of a much larger place and had no trouble keeping up with the cleaning. She’d dusted and vacuumed just the day before. The guest bath was tidy, the kitchen picked up. There was really nothing for her to do.

She glanced at Lulu. The Chinese crested had on a simple silver T-shirt with the word Princess on the back, in shiny letters. Perhaps not Miguel’s style, but then she wasn’t asking him to wear it. As for herself...

She glanced down, then shrieked again and bolted for her bedroom. She was in a ratty old T-shirt and shorts. While her legs were toned, they were pale and there were a few veins. In her regular life, this didn’t bother her, but for some reason, she was suddenly determined to cover up.

She quickly changed into ankle-length pants and a fitted tank top, then threw on a matching, lightweight, tailored short-sleeved shirt. She left her feet bare, but touched up her makeup, then went into the kitchen and wondered if she should put out some kind of snack.

She tried to figure out how much time had passed. No way she could throw some snacky thing together. Besides, it wasn’t as if this was a planned meeting. She couldn’t be responsible for providing food with no warning.

She’d just about talked herself out of panic when she heard a knock on the door. Lulu gave a little announcement bark, then trotted to the front door, her tail wagging. Pam sucked in a breath, told herself everything was fine, then opened the door.

“Pamela.”

The obvious delight in Miguel’s voice, the sight of him in worn jeans and a relatively subdued Hawaiian shirt, while looking all manly and handsome, did a number on her breathing. Or maybe she was having a hot flash. She wasn’t sure. She had to clear her throat before she could speak.

“Ah, Miguel. Come in.”

He smiled at her, then crouched down, offering his fingers to Lulu. “Not until you introduce me to this beautiful girl.”

“This is Lulu.”

Miguel stroked the side of her face. The Chinese crested let her eyes sink closed for a second before offering a kiss. Pam was almost jealous—the man did have a way with women, she thought. Not that she was interested in that sort of thing. It was simply... All right. Fine. She had no idea what it was, so she would ignore it.

Miguel stepped into her condo and crossed to the large French doors. Beyond the balcony was the boardwalk, then sand, then ocean for as far as the eye could see.

“Beautiful,” he said. “You must enjoy watching the ocean and her many moods.”

“I do. I lived in a house for years, so I wasn’t sure how I would adjust to condo living. Sometimes I feel like my place is a little small but this makes it all worthwhile.”

He turned and she saw he had a leather backpack hanging from one shoulder. He took it off and smiled. “I come prepared.” He pointed to the kitchen. “May I?”

She nodded, not sure what he was going to do.

Once in her kitchen, he set the backpack on the island counter, then opened it. Inside was a bottle of his family’s tequila, several limes, Cointreau and a martini shaker. She started to laugh.

“Seriously? You take that with you everywhere you go?”

“Not everywhere, but many places. Now I need a cutting board and some ice. It’s nearly five o’clock.”

She got him what he requested. As she filled her small ice bucket, she found a box of frozen mini quiches and pulled them out. If they were going to be drinking tequila, she was going to need food.

While the oven preheated, Miguel crossed to Lulu and lifted her into his arms. He held her easily—not a surprise. He had a small dog himself and would be used to the delicate bones. He cradled her, supporting her and patting her at the same time. Lulu relaxed into the attention.

He took up more space than Pam was used to. Except for her sons, she’d never had a man over to her place and she wasn’t sure what to do with herself. Part of her wanted to keep her distance while the rest of her wanted to move closer. Of course, the thought of being too close made her uncomfortable, so she was well and truly confused.

“Have you thought about our dinner?” he asked.

“Some.”

He raised his eyebrows, as if questioning her honesty.

She sighed. “All right. Yes, I have.”

“Good. I have, as well. You are a beautiful and interesting woman, Pamela.”

She laughed. “Oh, please. There’s no need to turn on the charm like that.”

“You think I’m not telling the truth? How do you see yourself?”

A question that had her totally stumped. How did she see herself? She was a mother, a friend, a wife—although that last role was different now. As for how Miguel had described her, she honestly didn’t know what to make of that.

“I don’t know how to do this,” she admitted, “and I’m not sure I want to. You’re very charming and while that’s fun, I don’t know what you want or expect from me.”

She thought that even if they were dating—which they weren’t—it was way too soon to be having this conversation. Still, she couldn’t seem to stop herself.

“I was married over thirty years. Being with John is all I know. I’m his wife and that is never going to change.”

Miguel continued to hold Lulu. “I don’t want you to be other than you already are. The person you are today is the woman I find so intriguing. What are you afraid of? Losing your past? You can’t. John is with you always. He is a part of you.”