Bad Boys After Dark: Mick Page 11

  “God, Mandy. What about your job? This isn’t like you. No wonder you didn’t tell me. I would have handcuffed you for sure.”

  “I know. Ally, please? Don’t judge me. Just tell me how to get these rose-colored glasses off.”

  “There are a few surefire ways to keep your head on straight, but none of them will work for you, because you’re sleeping with the guy you want.” She yelled the word want. “Never again do I let you try anything risky on your own.”

  “But the book said—”

  “The book?” Ally yelled. “Burn that stupid book. This is my fault. I should have been with you every step of the way.”

  “That would have been awkward in the shower when we were—”

  “Stop!” Ally laughed. “Okay, look. You’re all about reasonable and rational thinking, so take that route.”

  “Yeah, that pretty much went out the window the second we kissed, so do you have anything else up your sleeve? Magic pills that will turn me into a cold, unfeeling tramp or something?”

  “God, Mandy. You really have gone ass over teakettle.”

  “No shit, sis. Help?”

  “No tramp potions, but there’s the obvious thing that I’m sure you’ve already considered. You’ll lose your job if you can’t control yourself. Jesus, how are you going to work with him?”

  “I’ve worked with him for three years and wanted him practically that whole time, so what’s the difference?”

  Ally sighed. “You can’t play a player.”

  Her sister saw right through her. “I know. The truth is, I’ve already pretty much decided that I have to quit my job.”

  “Aw, Mandy,” Ally said empathetically. “I wish I knew how to help, but you’re crossing lines I never did.”

  “So, no secrets for me, then? I’m on my own?”

  “I think I’m in shock. You’re not on your own. I’m here for you, but I’ll have to think on how to handle this.”

  She knew that would be the case, but she felt better coming clean to Ally and hearing her say she’d be there for her when she fell apart—which she would when they were back in the real world again.

  “Okay. I have to go. I left him out there and took off like a bat out of hell.”

  “Wait!” Ally said. “I’ve got it. Remember when Mom and Dad caught us sneaking out over your sophomore year when you had to see that dork, what’s his name?”

  Amanda smiled with the memory. “Martin. I remember. Pinchigans? You think it’ll work?”

  “It wiped that smart-ass smile off your face every time.”

  “Genius, Al. Sorry I didn’t tell you about Mick.”

  “That’s okay. At least I know he’d never physically hurt you, which, by the way, I’m going to do when I see you Monday night, so be ready.”

  “Love you, too, sis.” She ended the call, thinking about Ally’s suggestion.

  Pinchigans. Every time their parents caught them sneaking out to see Martin, she’d smile, because he was cute and funny and sneaking out was exciting. But her smile gave her away, and her parents knew their story about taking a walk in the moonlight had been a lie—every single time. Ally began giving Amanda a little pinch whenever they’d get caught, just hard enough to snap her mind back to reality, giving them time to formulate new excuses. Perfect.

  She pulled open the bathroom door and headed for the jewelry tent in search of Mick.

  “Amanda!”

  She turned toward Mick’s voice, and her heart nearly stopped at the sight of him carrying a small boy on his shoulders. One arm curled up around the little boy’s bottom, and the other was draped over a very attractive blonde’s shoulder. The blonde was smiling up at the boy. They could have walked right out of Family Circle magazine, if not for the fact that Mick’s eyes were locked on Amanda—with that look she was sure was born from her hopes and dreams and all things sinful.

  She didn’t know who the woman and child were, and she should have been swamped with jealousy, but that look stood in the way. It rooted itself into her heart, the warmth of it spreading like limbs into her mind. She managed a half smile, half oh-shit stare, drew her hands behind her back, and put her Get My Head On Straight Plan into action.

  Pinchigan. Pinchigan. Pinchigan.

  **

  A KNOT ROSE in Mick’s throat as he and Bridgette approached Amanda. When Amanda had run off to the bathroom, he’d worried it all had become too much for her—their intimacy, his comments, which were meant to send a secret, sexy message. Now her eyes were guarded, bringing more disquieting thoughts.

  “Who’s that?” Bridgette’s four-year-old son, Louie, asked from atop Mick’s shoulders, reminding Mick that Amanda had no idea who his friends were.

  Could she be jealous? That brought a real smile.

  “That’s my friend Amanda,” he said to Louie. He’d never called her his friend before. With colleagues he referred to her as his paralegal or employee, either of which was safe. With Willow he hadn’t labeled her but had defined their relationship as that of research partners. Those tags defined a degree of separation that, until yesterday, he’d respected, and they had helped keep him in check. But none of those descriptions fit her this weekend, and friend didn’t even begin to describe his feelings toward her.

  Bridgette leaned closer to him. “Friend? Not according to Willow. She’s stunning, by the way.”

  Yeah, he knew. Stunning, sweet, charming, smart, sensual. Hell, if he believed in forever, he’d add permanently his to that list. But seeing Bridgette and Louie only reinforced that forever was a fantasy. Bridgette had lost the love of her life, her first and only love, Louie’s father, when Louie was just a baby.

  “Hi, ’Manda! I’m Louie.”

  Amanda’s guarded expression softened, and she smiled up at Louie. “Hi. Are you having fun up there?”

  Louie laughed. “Yes! I’m riding the Mick train!”

  The blush rising on Amanda’s cheeks told Mick she was thinking about how she’d already enjoyed that ride, the same way he was. Maybe it was jealousy he’d seen after all.

  “Amanda, this is Bridgette, Willow’s sister. Louie is Bridgette’s son.”

  “Hi,” Amanda said. “It’s nice to meet you both.”

  Bridgette embraced her. “Willow said she ran into you guys earlier, and the minute Louie heard Mick was here, he had to find him.” She reached her arms up toward Louie. “Come on, buddy. Let’s go get a cupcake from Auntie Willow.”

  Mick lifted Louie from his shoulders, and the little boy threw his arms around his neck.

  “Will I see you before you go home?”

  “I’m not sure, buddy.” Mick hugged him tight, catching the dreaminess on Amanda’s face, stirring all those conflicting emotions again. “But I brought you a little something.”

  Louie grabbed Mick’s cheeks and pressed his tiny lips to his. “Thank you!”

  They all laughed.

  “You don’t even know what it is yet.”

  “It doesn’t matter. Mom says we thank people for thinking of us.” Louie smiled at Bridgette, then said, “Logan brings me baseball cards, so he gets extra thank-yous.”

  Mick set Louie on the ground, meeting Bridgette’s heartrending smile. Her husband had collected baseball cards, and she’d been deeply touched when Logan began bringing them for Louie. But that was Logan and Louie’s thing, and while Mick loved bringing gifts for his little buddy, he’d never step on Logan’s toes.

  He pulled a harmonica from his back pocket and handed it to Louie. “This might not be as good as baseball cards, but hopefully you’ll have some fun with it.”

  Louie jumped up and down and threw his arms around Mick’s legs. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

  Amanda’s eyes filled with something sweet and maternal. He crouched to avoid the emotions that stirred and showed Louie how to use his new toy.

  “You would make a great dad,” Bridgette said emphatically.

  “Bridge,” Mick warned. They’d been through this.
She knew he’d sworn off having a family, but she never failed to point out how great a father he’d make. He’d had a great father once, and he’d watched that man turn into anything but. The apple didn’t fall far from the tree, and he wasn’t about to put himself, or anyone else, through that type of nightmare.

  Bridgette rolled her eyes.

  Amanda’s brows knitted.

  “We’d better go for real this time, before a certain little person decides he needs more of M-I-C-K.” Bridgette hugged Amanda. “It was nice to meet you. I hope we see you again sometime.”

  “I’m glad we had a chance to meet.” Amanda turned to Louie, who was spinning in circles while blowing into his harmonica. “Have fun making music, Louie.”

  “I will!” he yelled as his mother took his hand and they headed toward the tents.

  “Talk about cute!” Amanda exclaimed. “Where did you get the harmonica?”

  “I always bring him a little something. I picked it up when we stopped for gas on the way here.” He took her hand. Despite her wide smile and bright eyes, he was still thinking about the uneasy look he’d seen earlier, and he needed to know if she was feeling regrets.

  “You didn’t look happy earlier,” he said cautiously. “Are you having second thoughts? Do you want to talk about what we did? About anything?”

  She shook her head, but the uneasy expression returned. He stepped closer and she looked down. He curled a finger under her chin, lifting her beautiful face.

  “What we did was intense, and not at all planned. If we crossed too many lines, you need to tell me.”

  Her hands slid from his to behind her back. “I asked you to do it.”

  “Baby, what we say in the heat of the moment, when everything feels right, can feel completely different afterward. If that’s the case, you need to tell me. I might be your sex toy for the weekend, but there are no batteries to take out to turn me off. I have a mind of my own, and if I know you don’t like, or regret, anything, I’ll know better how to handle other things.” He brushed his thumb over her cheek, and a smile lifted her lips. “You do crazy stuff to my dirty mind, so it’s important that we trust each other. I need to know how you honestly feel.”

  Her eyes went glassy, filling him with a foreboding ache.

  “Amanda?”

  “Hm?”

  “You look like you’re going to cry.” He folded her in his arms. “Shit, baby. I’m sorry. I should have known it was too much.”

  She pushed out of his arms with a frustrated exhalation. “I’m not going to cry, and it wasn’t too much. I just scratched my arm by accident.”

  Scratched your arm? A small pink mark had appeared on her arm. “You’re sure?”

  “Yes,” she snapped. “I’m fine with what we did. I liked it. Hell, Mick, I loved it. I’m just processing everything. You. Me. What we did. What we’re doing. The craziness going on inside me.”

  He pushed a hand through his hair, watching her watch him. She crossed her arms and leveled him with a serious stare. A seriously hot stare. He felt his lips quirk up, and hers did the same, the playful look rattling his heart.

  “I don’t know what to make of that.” He laughed.

  Her smile widened. “Think I do?”

  “Not if I’m reading you right, but you’re seriously messing with my head.” He tugged her in close again, and she wound her arms around his neck, laughing softly. The sweet melody made his head spin even more. “I should strip you bare and take you right here, just for messing with me.”

  “Oh, no.” Her voice turned serious. “Are you one of those, what do you call them? Those men who like to punish girls?”

  “Jesus. Do I seem like one of those guys?”

  “How should I know? You’re the teacher. I’m merely the student.”

  “You’re not merely anything. And you’re no student, Amanda. I don’t know what you are, but it’s not that.” He pressed his lips to hers in a chaste kiss. “To answer your question, no, I’m not a dom, but I’d be happy to spank you if you’re into that sort of thing.” He waggled his brows.

  “I bet you would.”

  She had him so tied in knots, he wasn’t sure he was reading anything right, making it even more important to clarify where her head was. “How’s the processing going? Do you want to change gears and scale it back? Spend the rest of the weekend as friends?”

  “You told Bridgette and Louie we were friends. I don’t see the difference, Counselor.” The defiance in her voice was new and thrilling.

  “Well, then…” He draped an arm over her shoulder, liking the feel of her so much he decided she belonged there. At least for the weekend. “Let me rephrase the question. Do you still want to fuck or not?”

  “Oh, that’s what you meant?” Feigned innocence coated every word. “Affirmative. That is, unless some other hot guy piques my interest at the bar tonight.”

  Jealousy gnawed at him. “Is that the game we’re playing now?”

  “A girl has to keep her options open. And did you miss the part where I called you hot? Geez, your listening skills leave a little to be desired. You obviously didn’t have the best teacher.”

  “Careful. You’re turning me on with your smart-assery.” Everything she did was turning him on and turning him inside out in equal measure. He needed to lighten his thoughts, and headed for the parking lot instead of the festival. “What do you say we blow off the festival and take my motorcycle out for a spin?”

  “You have a motorcycle? I don’t remember hearing about this during the initial questioning,” she teased. “My boss warned me about slippery lawyers like you.”

  He probably should have warned himself about her, because the more time they spent together, the more he wished Monday would never come.

  Chapter Ten

  MICK DIDN’T JUST have a motorcycle. He had a shiny, black Indian motorcycle. The name didn’t mean squat to Amanda, but watching Mick straddling the powerful machine was the sexiest thing she’d ever seen. She loved the feel of his muscles flexing and the heat searing through his back as she clung to him on the ride up the mountain. The roar of the bike filled her with adrenaline. The crisp evening air was as shocking as it was thrilling, seeping through her sweater to the skin beneath. Riding on the back of the motorcycle made the whole world look different. The trees seemed brighter, the smells were sharper, and the asphalt was no longer just a road but a path to freedom. Amanda felt untethered but not reckless, which she attributed to Mick. He was careful with her, grounding her, going over the rules of the road and secret signals in case she got scared. He drove like he owned the road, owned the very earth beneath them.

  He veered off the main drag onto a narrow road that was more like a trail, buffered by woods. The sun was just beginning to set, casting a bluish hue through the thick umbrella of trees. The scent of pine and raw earth filled her lungs. The bike slowed as they neared the edge of the woods. Amanda’s insides hummed long after he cut the engine.

  It took a few minutes for the roar of the bike to silence in her head, allowing the sounds of the forest to filter in. Branches swished overhead; leaves swirled along the grass and dirt. Mick climbed off the bike and removed his helmet. He shook out his hair, and Amanda felt like she was watching a scene from a movie made just for her. Mick Bad, Super Hottie. His lips curved into a delicious smile as he dug his cell phone from his pocket. His whiskers had thickened throughout the evening, and he looked even more like he had the night of the bar crawl. The more time they spent together outside the office, the harder it became to picture him in his suit and tie, with his mask of professionalism firmly in place.

  He held up his phone. “You look hot. I want one picture of you on my bike.”

  “Wait.” She reached for her helmet, trying to pry it off, and he stopped her with a thoughtful gleam in his eyes. He lowered her hand and took the picture.

  “Our little secret,” he promised. He helped her take off the helmet and lifted her from the bike like a hundred and twenty-f
ive pounds was nothing.

  She liked knowing he wanted to have something to remember their time together. It gave her the freedom to ask for the same.

  “Can I take a picture of you so I have one, too?”

  He tugged her against his side and held his phone out for a selfie of the two of them. “Say cheese, baby.” He kissed her cheek as he took the picture. She turned and he kissed her lips, taking another few pictures, which she was sure caught her in a number of shocked and delighted expressions.

  Her heart turned over in her chest. She was, for the first time in a very long time, truly happy with a man. She didn’t want to worry about later, or tomorrow, or Monday. She just wanted to revel in what they had now, and hope it lasted forever.

  “I’ll text you copies. Come on. I want to show you something.” He took her hand and they walked across a clearing to an overlook. Rocky hills dotted with thick tufts of trees mapped the cascading mountainside. Sweetwater was nestled in a valley below. The lake reflected the setting sun like black glass, and roads snaked through the small town, disappearing beyond the peaks and valleys. She thought of the city’s smoggy air filled with pungent smells of exhaust and grime and the aggressive, overwhelming sounds of too many people.

  She inhaled the fresh mountain air and sank down to the grass beside Mick.

  He motioned to the incredible view. “Your postcard view of Sweetwater.”

  She wondered if he used the word postcard because she had on their way into town, or if it was a coincidence. He rested his hand on her leg and smiled. His thoughtful gaze held her answer. She couldn’t imagine anything more perfect than sharing this incredibly picturesque moment with him. When he put an arm around her, it felt natural to rest her head against him.

  “You have a nice life here. Willow and Bridgette seem wonderful, and Louie is adorable. Do you come often?”

  He chuckled, and she bumped him with her shoulder.

  “You’re such a guy. I didn’t mean the double entendre.”

  “I don’t come as often as I’d like,” he said. “Pun intended.” He held his phone up and took another picture of them, then turned it toward the view and clicked off a few more shots.