As Hot as It Gets
Page 78
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Something happened to her as she stood there staring.
She suddenly wanted…
She wanted forever, damn it.
But forever didn’t exist.
Yes, it does. You’re looking at it right now.
But maybe this was a fluke. Maybe Kurt and Arlene’s loving and long-lasting relationship was a gift for them, and them alone.
You can have it too. With Jackson.
But…could she? Her own mother had tried to find true love ten times—and she’d gotten ten divorces out of it. What if Mia was destined for the same?
Fear and turmoil clogged her throat. She’d avoided serious relationships her entire life. Shied away from forming any attachments in order to avoid getting her heart broken. But was she right to be scared? Or were her fears simply a knee-jerk reaction to watching her mother’s life shatter every other year?
God, she couldn’t think about any of this right now.
Her gaze darted back to Jackson’s parents, and a rush of panic swarmed her belly. She had to leave. Had to go home. Now.
The anxiety attack came so fast and so unexpectedly that Mia couldn’t think straight. All she knew was that she couldn’t stay in this house. She couldn’t face Jackson’s family after what she’d done to Tiffany. She couldn’t face Jackson. Not tonight. Not when her heart was trying to pound its way out of her chest and her lungs refused to accept the oxygen she was gulping in. Not when her mind was a jumbled mess and her emotions were so out of control she feared she might actually pass out.
Everything after that initial siege of panic was a blur.
Somehow she ended up upstairs.
Somehow she wound up on the porch with her carryon hastily packed.
Somehow she was sliding into the backseat of a cab she didn’t remember calling.
And somehow she found herself at the airport, buying a ticket for the next available flight to San Diego.
It was only when she entered the gate that Mia became aware of what she was doing, and once she did, a flashflood of guilt whipped through her.
She fumbled for her phone, horrified that she’d left the ranch without saying goodbye to Jackson. Without thanking his family for their hospitality. Without apologizing to Tiffany again.
But despite the deep remorse seizing her insides, she couldn’t bring herself to go back. She wanted to go home and sleep in her own bed, to take advantage of Danny’s absence and really think about what all this meant.
What loving Jackson meant.
Fighting back tears, she sent Jackson a brief text letting him know she was at the airport and flying home early, and then she shut off her phone and sat in the gate until it was time to board. Luck had been on her side—the flight was scheduled to leave in twenty-five minutes, and somehow she’d managed to check-in before the kiosk closed and zip through security without a hitch. It had all gone so smoothly she felt like one of those unrealistically fortunate characters in a movie.
Like The Runaway Bride.
Or maybe The Worst Girlfriend on the Fucking Planet.
She took a breath, trying not to let the guilt consume her, but that was an impossible feat. For the next two hours, guilt seemed to be the only emotion she was capable of registering. It plagued her during the two-and-a-half-hour flight, constricted her heart when she arrived in San Diego and followed her all the way home.
Exhaustion crushed down on her chest as she climbed up to the third floor of her building. It was nearly two in the morning, and she was desperate to slide under the covers and pretend tonight had never happened. She hadn’t even turned her phone back on, for fear that Jackson would call and she might be tempted to answer.
She couldn’t hear his husky voice right now. She’d be liable to burst into tears if that happened.
After dropping her bag on the floor out in the hall, Mia rummaged in her purse for her keys, then unlocked the front door with shaky fingers.
The apartment was engulfed in shadows when she walked inside. She welcomed the dark, the silence, the familiar sturdy hardwood beneath her feet.
But the overpowering relief she experienced from being home was suddenly replaced by a burst of sheer terror as a blurry figure lurched into her line of sight.
The indistinct monster wielded an aluminum baseball bat that gleamed in the darkness, swinging it around in a menacing whirl that promptly took ten years off Mia’s life.
“Don’t move!”
The ominous command sent her pulse careening—but then she blinked, recognition dawning in her eyes.
“Danny?” she screeched.
“Mia?” he exclaimed at the same time.
Her heart rate steadied, but the alarm rushing through her only increased, drawing an incredulous question from her mouth.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
Chapter Nineteen
“I figured you’d show up.” Shane was standing on the porch of his small, A-frame cabin when Jackson’s boots connected with the dirt ground.
He slammed the door of his dad’s pickup and strode toward the cabin, no hesitation, nothing but steely determination on his face.
“I figure you’d be expectin’ me,” he replied with a shrug.
When he reached the porch, he noticed the two unopened beer bottles sitting on the ledge.
Shane followed his gaze and smiled wryly. “I thought we’d need the liquid courage.”
Jackson had to chuckle. “Probably a good idea.” His eyes strayed toward the door. “Is Tiff all right?”
“She’s fine. Just sufferin’ from a case of embarrassment and some bruised pride.” Remorse flickered in Shane’s brown eyes. “She doesn’t blame Mia for what happened back there. Tiff knows she provoked it, and she feels dang crappy about it. She’s already planning on drivin’ up to the big house tomorrow to apologize to your girl.”
She suddenly wanted…
She wanted forever, damn it.
But forever didn’t exist.
Yes, it does. You’re looking at it right now.
But maybe this was a fluke. Maybe Kurt and Arlene’s loving and long-lasting relationship was a gift for them, and them alone.
You can have it too. With Jackson.
But…could she? Her own mother had tried to find true love ten times—and she’d gotten ten divorces out of it. What if Mia was destined for the same?
Fear and turmoil clogged her throat. She’d avoided serious relationships her entire life. Shied away from forming any attachments in order to avoid getting her heart broken. But was she right to be scared? Or were her fears simply a knee-jerk reaction to watching her mother’s life shatter every other year?
God, she couldn’t think about any of this right now.
Her gaze darted back to Jackson’s parents, and a rush of panic swarmed her belly. She had to leave. Had to go home. Now.
The anxiety attack came so fast and so unexpectedly that Mia couldn’t think straight. All she knew was that she couldn’t stay in this house. She couldn’t face Jackson’s family after what she’d done to Tiffany. She couldn’t face Jackson. Not tonight. Not when her heart was trying to pound its way out of her chest and her lungs refused to accept the oxygen she was gulping in. Not when her mind was a jumbled mess and her emotions were so out of control she feared she might actually pass out.
Everything after that initial siege of panic was a blur.
Somehow she ended up upstairs.
Somehow she wound up on the porch with her carryon hastily packed.
Somehow she was sliding into the backseat of a cab she didn’t remember calling.
And somehow she found herself at the airport, buying a ticket for the next available flight to San Diego.
It was only when she entered the gate that Mia became aware of what she was doing, and once she did, a flashflood of guilt whipped through her.
She fumbled for her phone, horrified that she’d left the ranch without saying goodbye to Jackson. Without thanking his family for their hospitality. Without apologizing to Tiffany again.
But despite the deep remorse seizing her insides, she couldn’t bring herself to go back. She wanted to go home and sleep in her own bed, to take advantage of Danny’s absence and really think about what all this meant.
What loving Jackson meant.
Fighting back tears, she sent Jackson a brief text letting him know she was at the airport and flying home early, and then she shut off her phone and sat in the gate until it was time to board. Luck had been on her side—the flight was scheduled to leave in twenty-five minutes, and somehow she’d managed to check-in before the kiosk closed and zip through security without a hitch. It had all gone so smoothly she felt like one of those unrealistically fortunate characters in a movie.
Like The Runaway Bride.
Or maybe The Worst Girlfriend on the Fucking Planet.
She took a breath, trying not to let the guilt consume her, but that was an impossible feat. For the next two hours, guilt seemed to be the only emotion she was capable of registering. It plagued her during the two-and-a-half-hour flight, constricted her heart when she arrived in San Diego and followed her all the way home.
Exhaustion crushed down on her chest as she climbed up to the third floor of her building. It was nearly two in the morning, and she was desperate to slide under the covers and pretend tonight had never happened. She hadn’t even turned her phone back on, for fear that Jackson would call and she might be tempted to answer.
She couldn’t hear his husky voice right now. She’d be liable to burst into tears if that happened.
After dropping her bag on the floor out in the hall, Mia rummaged in her purse for her keys, then unlocked the front door with shaky fingers.
The apartment was engulfed in shadows when she walked inside. She welcomed the dark, the silence, the familiar sturdy hardwood beneath her feet.
But the overpowering relief she experienced from being home was suddenly replaced by a burst of sheer terror as a blurry figure lurched into her line of sight.
The indistinct monster wielded an aluminum baseball bat that gleamed in the darkness, swinging it around in a menacing whirl that promptly took ten years off Mia’s life.
“Don’t move!”
The ominous command sent her pulse careening—but then she blinked, recognition dawning in her eyes.
“Danny?” she screeched.
“Mia?” he exclaimed at the same time.
Her heart rate steadied, but the alarm rushing through her only increased, drawing an incredulous question from her mouth.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
Chapter Nineteen
“I figured you’d show up.” Shane was standing on the porch of his small, A-frame cabin when Jackson’s boots connected with the dirt ground.
He slammed the door of his dad’s pickup and strode toward the cabin, no hesitation, nothing but steely determination on his face.
“I figure you’d be expectin’ me,” he replied with a shrug.
When he reached the porch, he noticed the two unopened beer bottles sitting on the ledge.
Shane followed his gaze and smiled wryly. “I thought we’d need the liquid courage.”
Jackson had to chuckle. “Probably a good idea.” His eyes strayed toward the door. “Is Tiff all right?”
“She’s fine. Just sufferin’ from a case of embarrassment and some bruised pride.” Remorse flickered in Shane’s brown eyes. “She doesn’t blame Mia for what happened back there. Tiff knows she provoked it, and she feels dang crappy about it. She’s already planning on drivin’ up to the big house tomorrow to apologize to your girl.”
