A Place Called Home (23 page)

She nodded, gave him a sideways glance, and smiled. “Oh, yeah. It’s not Dickens, you know. No
Oliver Twist.
I was lucky.” When she saw him frown slightly, she added more emphatically, “Really, Mitch. I was very lucky.”

Mitch suspected she said that for his benefit. In spite of her quick grin and her words, there was something she wasn’t saying. “Did you lose touch with Gabe and the Reasoners?”

“For a while. I didn’t think Barb and John—the Reasoners—knew where I was. Later, I found out that they weren’t allowed to contact me. Visits were prohibited by a court order. It was supposed to help me adjust to my new parents and my new home. No one explained that, though—or at least not in a way I could understand it. I thought they hated me.” She shrugged. “Like most kids, I thought I had done something wrong.”

Mitch just shook his head. Hearing it from her didn’t make it any easier to imagine. It was that far outside his experience.

“Well,” Thea said, punctuating a sigh. “Enough about me.”

“Oh, no. Not so fast. How did you hook up with Gabe again?”

“You don’t know?”

“I’m asking, aren’t I? He was kind of tight-lipped about you. I never understood it. When Kathy first started dating Gabe I told all kinds of stories about her to him. When they got serious I actually told a few that were the truth. It was tough prying three words out of him about his friend Thea.”

“You didn’t even know me back then. We didn’t meet until their wedding rehearsal.”

“So? Kathy had a lot of anxious moments about you in the beginning.”

“About me? That can’t be right. Gabe was crazy in love with her.”

“I don’t try to understand it. I’m just reporting the facts. I figured if she saw you as the competition—and Kathy not being a slouch in the looks and brains department herself—you must be someone I’d like to know. My early plan was to make sure you didn’t ruin things for my best friend by keeping you occupied myself.”

Thea’s head snapped around. “Oh, spare me! Are you serious?”

“Hey!” Mitch made a grab for the steering wheel. “Watch the road.”

“I saw him,” Thea said lamely.
Him
was the tractor trailer slowing to a stop to make a turn into a strip mall. “His brake lights are dirty.”

Mitch merely grunted. He waited until Thea had clear road ahead of her before he continued. “I didn’t tell Kath anything about my plan. I don’t think she would have approved.”

“She would have been insulted.”

“Insulted? Why? I was looking out for her.”

“Your actions suggest that you thought she couldn’t keep Gabe on her own.”

He sighed, running his fingers through his hair. “I don’t get women.”

“I know.” She saw the car dealer up ahead and slowed to make the turn. “So what happened to your plan?”

“I couldn’t get much out of Gabe about you. Tight-lipped, remember? He wouldn’t hook me up with you.” Not then, anyway.

“He was probably looking out for me,” she said, grinning. “See how that sort of thinking worked against you?”

“I’m learning.”

“Good.” She pulled into the car lot and found a parking space on the side of the showroom. “Let’s go see about your wheels, Mr. I-have-a-plan.”

Mitch had to admit it seemed ludicrous in retrospect. At the time, he thought he’d had a stroke of genius. “Most likely, just a stroke,” he muttered.

“What’s that?” Thea asked, getting out of the car.

“Nothing.” He pretended he didn’t hear her laughing, but by the time they reached the doors, he was laughing himself.

Thea actually missed Mitch’s company on the way back to Connaugh Creek. He followed her because she refused to have her view of the road blocked by his new SUV. Besides, she’d told him if he was stopped because he looked like a drug dealer, her plan was to drive on and leave him there.

The final paperwork on the car was finished without any arguing between them. Thea had her checkbook out before Mitch realized what she was doing. She paid the first thirty months off in one lump sum, essentially putting half down on the vehicle and reducing Mitch’s monthly payments to a figure that was completely manageable. He could have stopped her, she knew, but he must have known she wasn’t going to give in easily.

Mitch parked the SUV in the driveway while Thea stopped on the street. They walked in together through the garage. Thea noticed he’d made no attempt to make room for the new vehicle. It was doubtful there’d ever be enough space for it.

“I think you’re going to need a larger house,” she said. “Or at least a larger garage.”

“I’m considering it.” His voice held none of the humor hers did.

“You are?” Thea kicked off her shoes and padded into the house in her socks. “Seriously?” She took Mitch’s jacket and her own to the closet while he went to the kitchen. “How long have you been thinking about that?” she called to him.

“Since about a week after the kids came to live with me.” Thea brought herself up short, sliding a little on the kitchen tile as she entered the room. “A week? But I thought you didn’t even want the kids back then. You were still trying to get me to take them.”

“I never thought that I wouldn’t
ever
have them,” he said. “Anyway, you weren’t around and no one knew where you were, and I was thinking ahead to the what-ifs.”

Thea leaned against the counter, her arms folded loosely in front of her, and regarded Mitch thoughtfully. He was looking for something in a cupboard, his back to her. “You really are one of the good guys, Mitchell Baker.”

Mitch’s hand froze over a bag of rice. He pulled it out of the cupboard, set it down, and turned around. “Yeah? You think so?”

She nodded. “I do.”

His eyes narrowed faintly, consideringly. There was only about six feet separating them, and he closed the distance before Thea understood his intent. He heard her breath catch, saw her lips part, but he gave her no time to move or raise an objection. His mouth touched hers, lightly at first, and when she didn’t push him away, he pressed his small advantage, tasting her lips carefully, finding the shape of them, first with his own mouth, then with the tip of his tongue. His hands rested on either side of her elbows on the counter, but they gradually moved closer together, cupping her arms, then gliding downward until he had her waist between them.

Her mouth was warm and soft. He touched the underside of her lip with the tip of his tongue. She was silky. Damp. His teeth clamped down gently on her lower lip. She made a tiny whimpering sound. Mitch shifted the position of his mouth, slanting over hers hard this time. His palms found her bottom and jerked her to him, pressing her thighs against his fly so there was no mistaking the response of his body. He surged against her, grinding his hips. Breath seemed to leave his lungs.

He tore his mouth away from hers. His nostrils flared slightly as he drew on the same air as Thea. There didn’t seem to be enough. He took the next breath from her, feeling her moan softly against his mouth. His tongue slid over the ridge of her teeth. She opened for him. Her thighs settled heavily against him. He was supporting her now and she seemed almost weightless in his arms.

The kiss deepened. The pace changed to slow and drugging. Long seconds passed. Somewhere in the house a clock ticked. There was the sound of their kisses and the clock ticking. Then there was only the clock.

Mitch drew back slowly. He lifted Thea to the countertop and stood between her splayed thighs. His hands rested on her hips. Her head was slightly bowed and turned away. She wouldn’t meet his eyes.

“You still think I’m one of the good guys?”

She didn’t answer.

“That’s what I thought.” He backed up, leaving her on the counter, and tunneled through his hair with his fingertips. “You want to yell at me?”

She shook her head.

“You want to finish this?”

Now she raised her head and looked at him. The dark centers of her eyes were so wide they nearly eclipsed the green irises. “I’m not ready.”

He nodded. “I didn’t think so.” Mitch turned away, opened the refrigerator, and foraged for a beer. He held up the bottle of Corona. “You want one?”

“No.”

Shrugging, he closed the door. He twisted off the top, tossed it on the counter, and took a long swallow of the beer. It was a relief to get something cold into his system though it was going to be a little while before his jeans fit comfortably. “I was thinking I’d make us some spiced couscous for dinner. Would you like that?”

She stared at him. “Who
are
you?”

“Hey, you saw me eat a burger, so you know I’m a regular guy.” He shrugged. “I’m trying out new stuff with the kids. This way if I screw up, they don’t have anything to compare it to. I apparently can’t make Kathy’s meat loaf right, even though I filched her recipe. After that debacle, I’ve been sticking to things that might satisfy uninformed taste buds. There was a lot of Vinnie’s pizza in the beginning.”

“Spiced couscous sounds great.” She pointed to the package on the counter. “That’s the rice you have out, though.”

Mitch glanced at it. “I was distracted.” He opened the cupboard, replaced the rice, and rummaged for the box of couscous. When he turned back with it, he saw Thea was still sitting on the counter watching him. There was still a little flush to her cheeks and her mouth looked ripe. She was wearing a loosely fitting purple turtleneck that looked great with her dark red hair and green eyes. Her socks matched her sweater. It made him wonder about her bra and panties and left him feeling a little sorrier he hadn’t gotten under either the snug Levi’s or the turtleneck. “You’re kind of like a hood ornament sitting there: classy but not very functional. Why don’t you set the table? We’ll need bowls and forks. And find yourself something to drink. Napkins are—”

Thea slid off the countertop. “I remember.” They traded places while she got out the dinnerware and he found the frying pan and set a kettle of water on to boil. They worked without conversation for several minutes. Mitch poured pine nuts onto a small tray and put them in the toaster oven. He gathered other ingredients as he remembered them.

“So how did you know?” Thea asked suddenly.

“Know what?” Mitch was frowning over the open cookbook. Before Thea could respond to his question, he asked her, “Can you get my glasses? They’re in my office on the drafting board.”

She disappeared, returning with them more quickly than she would have guessed. “Here. Don’t strain yourself.”

“Funny.” Mitch put them on and bent over the book again. “Okay, that’s a pinch of salt. I didn’t think an inch of salt could be right.”

“My taste buds aren’t that uninformed,” she told him. “I would have noticed.”

He grinned, straightened, and checked the toasting pine nuts. “What was your question?”

Thea backed up to the other side of the table, setting the mats and bowls in place, before she answered. “How did you know I wasn’t ready? I said I wasn’t and you said you thought so. How did you know?”

Still stirring, Mitch turned halfway toward her. “You never once put your hands on me.”

Thea’s eyes dropped to the table. “Oh.”

“It’s okay, Thea. You’re not ready ... you’re not ready.” Mitch turned up the flame under the skillet and waited a few moments before he added a tablespoon of butter. It sizzled and began to melt. He hit the button on the mini food processor and it finished chopping the onion pieces he’d put inside. “I noticed you’re not wearing your engagement ring. I probably made too much of it.” He emptied the finely chopped onion into the pan and spread it out with the tip of his spoon. With his free hand he reached for his beer and took a swallow. “Plus, I was smarting from the good guy comment and the fact that I’d let you write that check at the car dealer’s. Guess I thought I needed to show you I had a cock and balls.” He saw her blink and a light flush steal over her fair features. “Sorry.”

“It’s all right.” She knew her face was hot. “I know what they are and I know that you have them. I don’t know why I’m blushing.”

“Because you’re a good girl.”

“I don’t mean to be.”

He grinned. “You can’t help it. Besides, I kind of like it.” Mitch turned down the gas under the onion while he cubed an eggplant and sliced a carrot into thin medallions and a red pepper into strips. He swept the colorful contents of his cutting board into the skillet, added more butter, and stirred. When he was satisfied, he searched for and found a baguette. He put it in the oven to warm. “Tonight, ma’am, at Ye Olde Cock and Balls, our special is spiced couscous with fruit and—dare I say it?—nuts.”

Thea laughed. “Do you have any lemon?”

“In the fridge.”

She found it and cut a wedge for her water. “Do you want some?”

“I’m sticking with my beer.”

“Beer and couscous?”

“It’s my restaurant.”

“Okay.” She cleaned up around him, tossing a few of the things he was done with into the dishwasher, and the rinds and peels into the garbage disposal. “Look, it’s snowing.”

Mitch glanced out the kitchen window. “So it is. Open the patio blinds so we can watch.”

Thea drew on the cord of the vertical blinds and pulled them across the track. The flagstone patio and walk, both of which had been cleared, were now covered. She turned on the porch light. It wasn’t quite dark yet but the light still illuminated each individual snowflake. It was a mesmerizing dance from the moment they entered the arc of light until they fell to the ground. “Mitch?”

“Hmmm?”

“I need to tell you where I was when Gabe and Kathy were killed.”

Mitch’s stirring slowed. He looked over at her. She was standing at the window, her back to him. Her narrow shoulders were hunched as she hugged herself. It was a posture he didn’t necessarily associate with cold. This was something else, more of a withdrawal, even as she offered to share. “That’s up to you,” he said carefully.

Thea turned slowly, her hands falling to her sides. “Are you familiar with Warwood Place?”

He considered her question. “That’s not a Monopoly property, is it?”

She smiled faintly. “No. Not Monopoly. It’s a clinic outside of Rapid City, South Dakota. At the foot of the Black Hills. Very exclusive. Very quiet.”