Page 14 of Calling a Cease-Fire

“It’s a compliment, Mia.” I brushed my fingers back up and over her bare shoulders, watching her visibly shudder from my touch. Fuck. Why did that excite me so much? “The name means intelligence and mystery. Tough but wise. Survives storms and brings help, in the biblical sense.”

She searched my face. “Why?”

I shrugged. “It’s the things I see when I look at you.”

“No. Why are you being so nice to me?”

“Because tonight you need someone to help you hold all that strength you possess together.” Time froze as we stayed locked in the moment, until I knew I needed to get us back to safer ground. I shot her a smirk as I uttered my next words. “Don’t worry. Tomorrow, I’ll go back to riling you up and teasing you, and you’ll be back to hating me. And all will be right with the world.”

She giggled and let her forehead fall forward to rest on my chest. “I’m tired.”

“Let’s get you inside.”

With an arm around her back, I helped her to her apartment and took the key from her, opening the door.

“My purse.” She kicked off her shoes and stumbled over to the sofa, lying down. “It’s still in your Jeep.”

“Okay, I’ll go grab it.” I left the door ajar and went back to retrieve her purse.

None of this had gone like I’d expected. But maybe that was a good thing. Because Mia offering me things I’d only ever fantasized about would have been hard to turn down. It was obvious she was looking for a release from all of the pent-up emotions she was holding in. If things had gone slightly different, I wasn’t sure she would have taken no for an answer. She could be tenacious, that was for sure.

When I returned, she was asleep, small snores coming from her. Grabbing the blanket from the back of the couch, I covered her with it. Then I pulled out my phone and snapped a quick picture before starting up a new text thread with Adam and Logan.

Me: *picture of Mia asleep*

Me: Got her home. Safe and sound. No lines crossed.

Logan: But you wanted to. Admit it. Miles was right.

Me: She’s fucking gorgeous. Of course I want to. Who wouldn’t?

Me: Doesn’t mean I’m going to do anything about it.

Adam: Lyla would never forgive you if you broke her friend’s heart.

Me: I know.

Before now, I wasn’t sure she had the ability to have a broken heart. It never seemed like a penetrable thing. But after I held her while she cried, it was obvious that the fortress she had built was beginning to break down. My bet was on the emotional turmoil her job was causing. But that was just a guess. None of us did these jobs without scars to show for it.

I put my phone away and left her purse on the coffee table with her keys before checking on her once more. I locked up behind me and headed to my Jeep.

On the drive home, I found myself replaying parts of the night on a loop in my head. I noticed the torment in her eyes more than once, especially when I gave her the news about the boy from the icy pond. Pain and shock in her expression that gave way to almost collapsing on the floor in what I clocked as relief. At the time, I chalked it up to her being drunk. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized it was likely a feeling of intense relief that he wasn’t dead. Like I said, the calls involving kids stuck harder.

I brought a hand to my mouth as I remembered the way her lips felt against mine. How she tried to fight me for control. The way she felt vulnerable and soft in my arms as she cried. That was the moment that made me consider the things Miles said to me.

Was he right about me being interested in her? There were so many things about Mia that I found attractive. That pulled me in. But then I was constantly reminded of how closed off she was. Guarded. Not to mention she seemed to hate me.

I was almost thirty. At this point, I wanted someone to build a life with. Someone who was emotionally available.

And I didn’t think that was Mia Carpenter.

Chapter Six

MIA

I groaned as I trudged down the hallway to the bathroom. My head pounded out of control. I needed Advil, water, and food. More than likely in that order.

What the hell was I thinking last night? I was only twenty-nine, for fuck’s sake. Was this my body’s way of telling me I couldn’t drink like I used to?