A Million Little Things (Mischief Bay, #3)

“Plenty of memories and no reason to go back. That part of my life is over. I’m ready for the next phase.”

Which sounded nice, Zoe thought, then reminded herself not to read too much into his words. They were only talking—not making a lifelong commitment. Still, it was nice to hear a man speak about the future at all. Chad never did. There were no specifics with him. No promises, no hopes. At the time, she’d been so sure she loved him. With hindsight, she saw theirs had been a relationship of convenience, nothing more.

“What are you thinking about?” Steven asked.

She searched frantically for some other topic but her mind was blank and she was forced to admit, “My ex.”

Steven picked up a slice of red pepper. “In a good way or a bad way?”

“I was just wondering why I stayed with him for so long.”

“Didn’t you say you lost your mom a while back?”

“Yes.”

One shoulder rose and lowered. “That’s part of it. Even if you knew he wasn’t right for you, how could you make any decision about your love life while you were dealing with the loss of your mother? He’d been a part of your life for a long time.”

He paused. “I know what I went through when I lost my dad. Everything changed. It was as if I couldn’t trust anything to stay the same. Life seemed fragile. You had to be dealing with something like that. If Chad was the least bit supportive, you would have clung to him. Don’t beat yourself up.”

The combination of support and insight surprised her. Even though he’d been through the loss of a parent about the same time, his compassion was unexpected. Or maybe that was more Chad leftovers.

“Thank you,” she said. “You’re right. What’s that quote? When I knew better, I did better?”

He nodded. “Now you’re doing better.”

She looked at him. “I am. I would say I’m doing much better.”

He flashed her a smile. “I have no idea if you’re talking about me, but I’m going to assume you are. It makes me feel good.”

“I am. You’re quite the find.”

“I’m not all that.”

He was, but she had a feeling he already knew, so why keep stating the obvious. He surprised her by moving closer and touching her cheek.

“Besides, if anyone is the lucky one in this relationship,” he murmured, “it’s me.”

He pressed his mouth to hers. She leaned into the kiss and enjoyed the feel of his lips against hers. His arms came around her, she wrapped hers around his neck. They were sitting at awkward angles—with their legs crossed and knees bumping. When he shifted, she relaxed against him and let him lower her to the carpeted floor.

He bent over her and kissed her again. She parted her lips and he brushed his tongue against hers. Heat spiraled out from her belly, warming every part of her. She put her hands on his back and felt the strength of him.

Everything about being with Steven felt right, she thought, her mind fogging over. He was kind and nice and funny and successful. There was no horrible baggage from his past. If he had any deep, dark secrets, Jen would have told her. He was a good guy and he made her tingle in all the right places. Where was the bad?

They continued to kiss. Steven shifted so he was lying next to her on the carpet. One hand rested on her midsection, but he didn’t move it higher or lower. Because he was a really good guy, she thought, even as she found herself thinking a little bad boy wouldn’t be so terrible.

He raised his head and looked at her. His eyes were bright with passion, his gaze intense.

“I see this going two ways,” he said quietly. “We can get going on dinner, or we can move this somewhere more comfortable. It’s your call. Either way I’m spending time with you, and to me, that’s a win.”

Because he wouldn’t push. While she was sure he was perfectly capable of seducing the hell out of her, he wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t cajole or tease or push. He would want her to walk into his bedroom because that was what she wanted, too, not because it made him happy.

She knew the sensible decision would be to get up and start dinner. That waiting to take things to the next level meant not getting distracted by passion. After all, they’d only been seeing each other a few weeks. She sat up and drew in a breath.

“Dinner,” she said, immediately regretting the single word.

He scrambled to his feet before holding out his hand to help her up. “How do you like your steak? I’m good up to medium. If you want it well-done, you might have to scrape off some burned edges.”

Just like that, she thought as she stood. No sulking, no pushing, no making her feel bad. Where was the guilt, the whine?

“Medium rare works for me.”

He grinned. “That’s my best steak.”

He started picking up their appetizers. She put her hand on his arm and stopped him.

“Steven, wait.”

He looked at her expectantly.

She took his hand in hers. “About the room that was too tempting. I’d like to see it.”

She waited two whole heartbeats as her words sank in.

His expression didn’t change. “You sure?”

She smiled. “Very.”

He kissed her once, then took her hand and led her down the hall.

*

Saturday night, Pam sat with her friends on the hotel patio. The weather in Phoenix wasn’t that much different than the weather in Mischief Bay, but Pam appreciated the opportunity to get away for a couple of days. Not that her life was so taxing, she thought as she sipped her cocktail. It was more that she liked hanging out with her friends and appreciated the opportunity to step back from her life and get some perspective.

They’d started the day with a three-mile hike followed by a late breakfast. After spending the afternoon shopping, they’d returned to the hotel for drinks and dinner. So far no one had suggested they leave their spot on the bar’s patio for the restaurant.

“Pam, we’ve talked about everyone but you,” Eugenia said in her Texas drawl. “What’s happening on your coast?”