All They Ever Wanted (6 page)

His brother looked like he wanted to say more before shaking his head instead, which was fine with Miles because he wasn't in the mood for a heart to heart. “Yeah, okay. We're lucky to have Lori. I don't know how we could keep the place running without her. She's a hell of a cook and housekeeper.”

Lori
.

If Miles were being truthful, it wasn't only the campaign's unexpected twist that had him up tossing and turning last night. The B and B's cook/housekeeper had much more to do
with his restless night than he'd dare to admit.
Jesus, he'd nearly kissed her.
One minute he'd been negotiating with her and then her hand was in his, skin to skin, and all he could think of was her wet body that day he'd spied her in the shower and he'd become as horny as a sixteen-year-old. It didn't help matters that she smelled like a freshly baked cupcake.

With a groan, Miles wiped his sweaty brow with his shirt.

In his defense, she'd completely caught him off guard with her quick banter and her refusal to be cowed by him. The woman who made it a habit to recede into the shadows most of the time clearly wasn't as timid as she appeared. Lori had a stubborn mouth with a tart tongue and Miles wanted to taste both. Desperately. Even worse, his plan to chase her off had backfired. He should have known she'd go running to his mother.

“Make sure you play nice with Lori, Miles. I don't think we could find someone of the same caliber to replace her in a pinch if we had to. Not without paying a fortune.”

“I don't plan on ‘playing' with her at all.” Miles' answer was more vehement than he would have liked. “And the only reason it would be a fortune to replace her is that Mom isn't paying her a damn thing outside of room and board.” His mother had been very forthcoming with that tidbit during her dressing down of Miles when he'd stopped by the rehab center the previous evening.

His younger brother arched his eyebrows at him. “Hmm. I'd say something about you protesting too much, but since I already pinned your ass to the ground not more than five minutes ago, I'll let it go. As for Mom's reasoning behind who she hires as her employees”—Gavin sighed heavily—“I don't think we can fight that battle with her. She's going to do what she's going to do. And that means taking in a desperate stranger or two. All we can do is run interference if something becomes a danger to Mom. I don't like it any more than you do, Miles, but I take some comfort that Mom's got Lamar watching over her now, too. And you can be sure he's already vetted Lori himself.”

The mention of the sheriff caused the throbbing in Miles' temple to intensify.

Gavin shook his head as though he knew Miles' train of thought. “Seriously, bro, you've got to let these things go. Focus on the campaign instead, okay? You've worked so hard to get to this point, enjoy it. This is your time, Miles.”

His brother was right. Miles' life was back to going as scripted. But that didn't mean he still wouldn't worry about his mother and what trouble might be following the women she chose to shelter. With his mom at least on the grounds of the inn, he needn't sweat the day-to-day running of the B and B. But he would be keeping an eye on Little Miss Stubborn Mouth. A close eye.

*   *   *

Being careful to walk along the periphery of the inn's large breakfast room, Lori quietly checked the contents of each silver chafing dish on the mahogany sideboard. This morning's breakfast consisted of pimento cheese grits, mounds of turkey bacon, hickory smoked sausage, praline and pecan French toast, and seasonal fruit. It was nearly ten o'clock, and Lori took great pleasure in the fact that almost every morsel had been eaten. Cooking had always been her passion. It had also been her downfall, but she couldn't dwell on that right now. Not in a room full of twenty strangers, any one of whom might recognize something about her.

“He has my vote and I don't even live in the state of North Carolina,” one of the female guests tittered, stopping Lori in her tracks.

The woman's companion at the table peered over the rim of her coffee cup across the room. Lori followed her gaze just in time to see Miles crouch down to listen to something a guest at one of the other tables was saying.

“Seriously, I wonder how young you have to be to work as a congressional page,” the woman whispered.

Both women laughed out loud as their oblivious husbands discussed plans for a day at one of the local golf courses.

Miles was dressed in a light blue shirt that fit him like a second skin, and Lori had no doubt all the females in the room were tracking his progress, paying particular attention as the
muscles in his back flexed with every move. Not to mention that when he bent down, his chinos stretched over an ass that had obviously seen its fair share of squats. Putting that body on such an arrogant man was definitely a sin in Lori's book.

He stood up then and his wily eyes swept the room, passing over Lori before quickly flicking back to land on her face. A face she hoped wasn't crimson after having been caught ogling him. His eyes narrowed and he started toward her only to have another guest intercept him. Lori took advantage of his distraction to slip back into the kitchen, where Cassidy sat at the island munching on a banana.

“The dryer is buzzing,” the girl said around a mouthful of the fruit. “I'll do most anything around here, but you know I hate wrestling the sheets into neat piles.”

Lori headed to the laundry room adjacent to the kitchen, swiftly pulling out a load of towels from the industrial-sized dryer. Snapping each one, she then folded it neatly before stacking them in the laundry basket. The mindless task helped her to regroup after Miles' heated glare in the breakfast room. He was angry and she knew why. But he wouldn't win this round.

Still, his voice startled her when he entered the kitchen. “We need more coffee in the dining room.”

Without a word, Lori headed toward the cambro containers at the other end of the room. Rather than make coffee in-house, a local brew was supplied to the inn in the three-gallon containers each morning by the Java Jolt, a coffee shop located in Chances Inlet's downtown. Guests would often wander down to the shop to purchase additional bags to take home with them, making the arrangement a win for everyone.

“Cassidy can do it,” Miles commanded. “And while you're there, Cass, please give Mr. and Mrs. Belfield a brochure for Bald Head Island and directions to the ferry.”

Both women froze in place.

Miles' hands went to his hips as he aimed his stare at the teenager. “Correct me if I'm wrong, but didn't you say last night that you wanted to help out more around the inn?”

Cassidy nodded.

“Well, let's see you put those words into action.”

The teenager silently slid off the barstool and tossed the banana peel in the trash before walking over to fill one of the thermal coffeepots. Lori turned back to the laundry room. Unfortunately, Miles was right on her heels.

“We have to talk.”

She kept her back to him while she loaded sheets into the washing machine. “Again? Didn't we talk last night? Surely you don't want to make a habit of this.”

He made a sound behind her that sounded like it belonged more to a wild animal than a candidate for Congress.

“You went behind my back to my mother.”

It was all she could do not to roll her eyes. “That's a little dramatic, don't you think, Miles? I just asked your mother to explain our arrangement to you, that's all.”

“You couldn't have explained it yourself?”

Now she did roll her eyes. “As if you would have believed anything I said.”

“In case you've forgotten, I'm trying to spare my mother from having to deal with the day-to-day minutia here. Her method of ‘explaining' your ‘arrangement' didn't exactly keep her blood pressure low.”

“Your mom reams you out, so now you're taking it out on me and Cassidy?” Lori slammed down the lid to the washer. “Cassidy
will
be able to vote in this election, you know.”

“Damn it, Lori, this isn't about the election! It's about you hiding out here and whatever fallout is going to ensue when the gig is up.”

Lori let out a resigned sigh before slowly turning around. Apparently they were still going to beat the same dead horse. Her breath hitched in admiration when she finally faced him. Miles had both hands bracketing the doorway, eliminating any possible escape route. Not only that, but the pose afforded her a breathtaking view of his chiseled chest where the shirt stretched over it. She jerked her head up before she did something stupid like reach out to trace the ridge between his pectoral muscles.

His hair was still damp from his post-workout shower. If those women in the other room liked what they saw at breakfast,
they should roust themselves up at six thirty every morning when Miles took his run. Spying on him out the kitchen window at dawn was Lori's guilty pleasure, her reward for having to rise so early for work.

When Miles wasn't playing politics, he was a world-class triathlete, twice finishing in the top ten of the Iron Man World Championship in Hawaii. Patricia proudly displayed his Iron Man medals—alongside sports memorabilia from her husband and all of the McAlister children—in a trophy case in the B and B's library. Obviously, Miles' ambition wasn't limited to his desire to take over the world, but to keep his body in peak shape, as well. Judging by what she saw as he ran back and forth to the beach every morning wearing nothing but a pair of nylon gym shorts, he was doing an excellent job of it. The man had a beautiful body.

She backed up against the washer and crossed her arms over her chest. “I guess I didn't make it clear enough last night. I'll be gone before there will ever be any ‘fallout'.”

He wasn't looking through her now. Instead his piercing gaze was bearing down on her face, searching for something. But he wouldn't find anything there. At least not the answers to her identity. If he looked closely enough, though, he might find clues to her desire for him. And that would never do.

“Do you want me to leave now? Is that what this is really about?”

She watched the war of emotions play out on his face. Her breath caught in her throat when she saw what looked like desire flicker briefly in his eyes before it disappeared.

“What I want is irrelevant.” He pulled his hands from the doorframe and took a step farther into the room. “But my mother wants you to stay and I'm going to do my best to respect that. It's her B and B.”

Lori licked her lips; his steady stare was doing things to her body. “It's only until she's back on her feet. Then I'll be gone from here.”

“Mmm,” he murmured as he reached out a hand and gently brushed back some of the long hair shielding her face. His blue gaze was still probing, as though he was looking for some
tiny clue that would give him the upper hand in whatever it was that was pulling them together. “But what damage will you do while you're here?”

“None,” she whispered as she tried to ignore the temptation to lean into his hand. “I would never do anything that could hurt your mother.”

He traced his fingers along the line of her jaw, his gentle touch warming her skin. Miles' critical gaze prompted a twinge of vulnerability—and unease. But she knew she shouldn't react. She reminded herself that he was just toying with her, hoping to force her to reveal something of herself. Her eyes drifted to his mouth, which looked quite kissable when it wasn't curled in a frown that he seemed to always be directing at her.

“And what if my mother isn't the one I'm worried about?” he asked softly just as his lips began descending toward hers.

No! No! NO!
Too bad her body wasn't listening to her brain. Lori's eyelids drifted shut and she was seconds away from making a huge mistake when Cassidy stomped into the kitchen.

“Hey, Miles, your body man is here. He says you're going to play checkers with the old-timers at Sunset Dunes.”

Lori's eyes snapped open and she watched as Miles blinked rapidly before he jerked his hand back from her face. Fortunately, his large body blocked the entire doorway of the laundry room, shielding them so Cassidy couldn't possibly have seen their close encounter of the dangerous kind. He swore quietly, running his fingers through his hair.

“Just see that you don't make any trouble,” he said before backing out of the room, leaving Lori to wonder if Miles had directed his warning at her or at himself.

“I
'm so glad to finally be home.”

Miles' chest still constricted at the sight of the bruises dotting his mother's cheek, most of them faded to a putrid yellow color. Her accident could have been so much worse. He wasn't sure how he would have survived losing both his parents. Draping a cotton blanket over her feet, he leaned down and kissed her forehead. “No happier than I am.”

“Hmm.” His mother's smile was dubious. “Does that mean you'll stop harassing my staff?”

Harassing didn't come close to what he'd wanted to do to Lori in the inn's laundry room earlier that day. His carefully maintained control continually slipped its leash every time he was in the woman's presence. This morning, his only intention had been to put her on notice that no matter how much his mother protected her,
he'd
be protecting his mother, so Lori needed to tread carefully.

But like the day before, when he got her alone, that X-rated video of her in the shower kept playing behind his eyes and all he could think about was touching her. His finger was involuntarily reaching for her face before his brain could catch
up. When he made contact with her cheek, he was transfixed by the softness of her skin and the vanilla scent that seemed to envelop her.

She'd asked him if he wanted her to leave, and it was all he could do not to pull her against him and show her exactly what he wanted. But kissing the woman silly wouldn't solve either of their problems. As tempting as Lori was, she was also as dangerous as a pocket full of dynamite and he'd already had enough explosions these past few weeks to last a lifetime. He was damn lucky Cassidy had wandered back into the kitchen when she did.

He sat down on the coffee table next to the recliner his sister had bought for his mother's homecoming. Reaching for her hand, he tucked it between both of his.

“You can harass your own employees from now on. I've got a full plate with the campaign. I've worked out the registration duties; Cassidy and I will handle them until you're back on your feet, not to mention taking care of whatever else you need. All you have to do is ask. But don't think I'm not going to come to the rescue if you need it.”

With her free hand, his mother reached up to brush the hair back off Miles' forehead. “Why is it that my boys all seem to think I constantly need rescuing?”

“For the record, I'd like to point out that it was Ginger and Midas who rescued you after the accident, Mother,” his sister Kate barked as she waltzed into the living room of the carriage house carrying her black medical bag and a tray of iced drinks from the Java Jolt. “
Your boys
are likely feeling a little threatened by the superior sex, that's all.”

Miles stood and took the tray from his sister's hands before she could dump the drinks all over their mother. “It never ceases to amaze me that you actually convinced a man to marry you.”

Kate laughed. “Alden knows a good catch when he sees one.” She bussed her mother on the forehead. “How painful was the drive home, Mom? Do you need something stronger than iced coffee?”

“I'm fine.”

He studied his mother carefully while he handed her one
of the drinks. Her face was paler than usual, but then she wasn't used to being cooped up inside for days at a time. The lines around her mouth were a little more pronounced, but she'd never admit to being in pain. Truth be told, the McAlister kids got their stubbornness from their mother. Her hazel eyes lit up at the sound of her granddaughter's voice.

“Gigi!”

Miles scooped the six-year-old up before she could launch herself on top of his mother. “Whoa there, Emily. Don't I get a hug first?”

Emily giggled as she wrapped herself around him like a little monkey. Dressed in a princess gown from one of the Disney characters, she nearly poked his eye out with the plastic tiara on her head. “I'm gonna paint Gigi's nails.” She waved a pink bag in his face. “It'll make her feel better.”

Miles kissed his niece on the nose. “I think just having you around makes her feel better, Em.” The child giggled when Miles dangled her as though he might drop her, before gently letting his niece fall onto the sofa. Emily scampered over to the coffee table Miles had just vacated and began to neatly unpack her little bag.

Kate scowled at him over her coffee. “I hope you didn't manhandle anyone like that at the senior center.”

Miles rolled his eyes at his sister. “I wasn't dancing the Nae-Nae with the residents, if that's what you're implying.”

“I like when you dance with me, Uncle Miles.” Emily handed him a bottle of nail polish to open. He mugged for his sister before sitting down next to his niece and holding the open bottle while she dipped the brush in.

“Still, the word around town is that you were pretty ruthless in checkers today. I mean, you couldn't have gone easy on Mr. Cohen? He's ninety-four and a World War Two vet.”

“All the more reason for me not to go easy on him. The man is still sharp as a tack. He wouldn't have appreciated the gesture.”

“Too bad the early voting hasn't opened yet,” his sister teased. “You'd better hope they all don't forget you by the time November rolls around.”

“I doubt that,” his mother said as she smiled at Emily, who was meticulously painting powder blue nail polish on her thumb. “Miles has been a fixture at Sunset Dunes since he was a Cub Scout. They look forward to his visits.”

“Wait, you go there even when you're not trying to get them to vote?” His sister's look said she might be digging in her black bag for a psychiatric tome.

“Mr. Grimes, my fifth grade social studies teacher, lives there. He's been a widower for eight years and his kids are scattered all over the world.” Miles shrugged. “Most of the residents just want someone to listen to them—to validate that they're still worthy of existence. Instead they get con artists who want to take advantage of their naiveté and rip them off. It's shameless.”

“Miles, it's not your job to fix what happened because of your brother's investments,” his mother said.

A heavy silence settled over the room as the three adults were no doubt thinking of the shame his younger brother, Ryan, felt at the unwilling part he played in a scam that ripped off many people in Chances Inlet. Ryan made millions as a professional baseball player. He gave a great deal to charity and invested the rest. Unfortunately, he'd been too trusting with his financial advisor, who not only ripped Ryan off in a Ponzi scheme, but managed to convince half the town—many of them living on fixed retirement incomes—that “what was good enough for Ryan was good enough for them.” His brother had been dumbfounded and mortified when the truth came out. It was just another blemish on the McAlisters' sterling reputation in Chances Inlet.

“Actually it is my job to protect them, and when I get elected, I plan to make it one of my primary goals to make sure seniors won't lose their pensions because of some criminal Ponzi schemer.”

His mother gave him a cavalier smile as if to say “good luck with that.” But Miles was determined to make this right.

“A good leader can still learn a lot from the folks at Sunset Dunes,” he continued. “Their generation represents all that is good about this country. If something needed to be done,
they didn't ask, ‘What's in it for me?' They just did it. This country can be that way again. I know it.”

Miles looked up to see his mother and sister staring at him. His mom wore a soft smile while his sister's expression was more amused.

“Wow, that would have made a beautiful campaign spot.” Kate grinned. “I think you should let me hold the Bible when they swear you in. It's only fair since you usurped my status as the only child all those years ago.”

His mother laughed. “The only one holding the Bible will be me.”

Kate sighed. “Always the bridesmaid.”

Emily looked up from her task and beamed at Miles. “Ginger said I can be the flower girl in her wedding to Uncle Gavin. Then I'm gonna be in Gigi and Sheriff Lamar's wedding. Can I be in yours, too, Uncle Miles?”

Both women were staring at him again. Miles carefully set the nail polish down on the table. No way was he discussing his philosophy on marriage with these two. A decade ago, marriage had been all he could think about. He'd found his soul mate in Justine, his girlfriend throughout college, and he couldn't wait to live out his life-plan with her by his side. But when she'd suddenly died, it was as if she'd taken with her that part of his soul that made him want to love. He couldn't imagine himself committing his heart to anyone else. Instead he'd rededicated himself to the goals he'd set all those years ago. Falling in love had never been on that list in the first place. Miles was better off navigating the course of his life alone.

He kissed the top of Emily's head. “If I ever decide to tie the knot, the job is yours, Em.” Miles didn't bother pointing out to her that she'd likely marry before he ever would. Neither his niece nor the two hopeless romantics in the room would understand.

As he stood to make his escape, Emily grabbed his wrist. “I can give you a manicure, too, Uncle Miles. Daddy lets me paint his nails.”

“Does he now?” Miles gave his sister a look clearly conveying that he needed backup.

Kate grinned mischievously. “You can't paint Uncle Miles'
nails today, honey. You need to check with Bernice first to see what color she wants him to wear.”

Both women broke out into giggles.

“And with that, I'm out.” Miles kissed his mother's cheek.

“Come back for dinner?”

“Sorry, I get to eat rubber chicken with the Kiwanis tonight. But I know a good place where we can get some breakfast. Can I bring you some tomorrow?”

His mother cupped his cheek and nodded. “I'd like that. And, Miles, whether I believe I need your protection or not, I am glad you're here.”

*   *   *

Patricia blew on her tea.

“How is it?” Lamar gently sat down on the bed beside her, as always, careful not to jar her hip.

“It's perfect.” And it was. He'd prepared her a cup of Sleepy Time tea with just the right amount of lemon and honey. Everything Lamar did for her was thoughtful and deliberate. And perfect.

She leaned into his warm body and breathed in his familiar musky scent. He tentatively wrapped a strong arm around her shoulders, and she brushed her lips along his jaw, glad that he was finally holding her again. For the past several days, he'd been treating her as if she'd shatter at the slightest touch. Things would get back to normal now that she'd returned home. The distance she'd perceived in him would dissipate and they could go back to planning the rest of their lives together. Patricia let out a contented sigh.

A sigh that Lamar clearly mistook for something else.

He carefully untangled himself from her and stood up beside the bed. “Are you okay? Is the pain very bad?”

The pain was a dull ache, but nothing she couldn't handle. She gave him a bright smile that she hoped was reassuring as she patted the bed beside her. “I'm fine. Really.”

He didn't budge an inch and Patricia's contentment faded. “You know what would make me feel better? A kiss from my handsome fiancé.”

Lamar's face softened and hope flared in Patricia's belly. He leaned down, gently caressing that sensitive area where her jaw met her neck—the spot that made her body turn to putty—before kissing her soundly. She hadn't lied. His kiss did make her feel better. Everything else faded away except for him and her.

When his lips left hers, she locked her arms around his neck, not allowing him to pull away. Instead, she feathered kisses along his cheek. “Are you sure you don't want to stay tonight?”

He unhooked her hands from his body and cast a glance at the pillows and ice packs he'd placed in the bed around her. “No, you'll sleep better by yourself,” he said.

Despite the sting of his refusal, she would never beg Lamar to stay the night with her. If there was one thing Patricia prided herself on, it was being an independent woman. “You're right. I'll probably toss and turn all night.” She leaned back against the pillows. “Cassidy volunteered to sleep on the futon in the office tonight anyway. Go to Pier Pressure and get some dinner. Make sure everyone in town is behaving. I'll be boring company anyway.”

He did that little growling thing that always made her insides twist up in arousal as he sat back down on the bed. Lamar lifted her chin with a finger and studied her face with his solemn stare. “Tricia, you're always good company. And you always will be.” He kissed her gently until her mouth opened beneath his. The familiar passion Patricia felt for him simmered and she thought for a moment that she'd won whatever battle they were silently fighting.

Until he broke off the kiss with a mumbled curse. “I've got a few more leads on a case I'm working that I need to chase down tonight. Promise me you'll get some rest?”