Claiming Mia Page 2

  Damn. There went that warm flush spreading through her body when he thumbed back his hat far enough for those enigmatic blue eyes to zero in on her with a long perusal. He made no effort to hide the appreciative trail he took from her braided, dark brown hair to her sneaker-clad feet. How one look from him could make her dormant body sit up and take notice when she didn’t even like the man was beyond her. She sure as heck didn’t like it. She’d never been one to be ruled by baser urges, instead preferring a positive connection with a man or woman before embarking on a friendship, something that was definitely lacking between her and the chief.

  Shuffling behind the counter, Mia breathed a sigh of relief once she put the wide, butcher block space between them. She glanced up, way up, at the only man who’d been able to get under her skin. There wasn’t one thing she could pinpoint that rubbed her the wrong way; instead, it seemed to be the uneasy combination of arrogance, dominance and male magnetism she objected to, and her betraying body’s response to those undesirable traits. There was no use denying the way her pulse spiked under the slow stroke of his ice-blue eyes that was as potent as a caress, a reaction she should be used to by now since it had been occurring from the moment she first set eyes on him kissing that woman all those years ago.

  “Thanks, Chief, but I have enough on my plate right now to keep me from even thinking about being added to your long list of conquests,” she returned primly, ignoring his taunting smirk. “Thank you for your order. Trish has it all ready for you.” She pulled the vase forward.

  “I didn’t peg you as the type to listen to small town rumors, Ms. Reynolds.” He nodded at the colorful arrangement. “Nice, thank you. I’m glad I caught you in.” The way he drew out Ms. Reynolds in a slow drawl hinted he knew about the finalization of her divorce. He and every other citizen in Whitetail.

  Reaching into his breast pocket, Chief MacGregor pulled out two tickets and slid them across the counter toward her. Tilting his hat back even further, he offered her a better view of his rugged face bronzed by sun and wind and capped with coal black hair tinted grey around his forehead. “You haven’t paid these.”

  “I’m sorry, I’ve been so busy, I forgot.” Picking up the parking tickets, she winced at the fines. Her habit of pulling over and parking wherever it was convenient to expedite her errands resulted in a parking fine more often than not. That was just one of Pete’s constant complaints that went along with her always being in a hurry. “I can come in later this afternoon and take care of them.”

  Leaning on the counter, he replied in that deep voice that never failed to curl her toes. “See that you do. Or, better yet, don’t. Now that you’re officially free, it’ll give me a good excuse to offer you a choice of consequences.”

  The corners of his mouth kicked up in another smile, but she couldn’t miss the hint of a threat behind his words that set her heart to hammering with uncertainty. That didn’t concern her near as much as the sudden warm gush between her legs. She didn’t even like the man, for pity’s sake, and she really didn’t care for his forward insinuations.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked in irritation.

  * * *

  Damned if that prim and proper tone didn’t do it for him every time he heard it, Nolan mused, enjoying Mia’s flustered look. He’d been lusting after the attractive brunette since first clapping eyes on her standing on the sidewalk, her green eyes round as saucers as she watched him kissing a woman he couldn’t even remember by name. When her surprised, flustered look changed to one of curiosity, he’d experienced a tug of interest. But it wasn’t until she’d shifted her gaze to his date and he caught a flare of envy that he’d become intrigued. She’d been married back then, which put her off limits, but when he’d returned to his hometown to take a permanent position at the police department, he’d heard about her impending divorce and his captivation with the prickly landscaper had grown steadily in the past six months.

  The first time he’d seen her after returning, she’d been bending over the garden bed lining the front of the small police station he’d agreed to take over almost as soon as the offer came across his DEA desk in Washington eight months ago. Her loose shorts molded a nicely rounded, soft backside, and when she spun around at his greeting, the innocent spark of interest in those guileless green eyes and the quick attempt she made to stifle it had pleased him. It was the same look he’d caught on her face that memorable day on the sidewalk.

  He tipped his hat down and picked up the vase. “Take me up on my offer of a hot and heavy affair and I’ll show you. You know where I’m at if you should change your mind. Put this on my tab, will you?” He walked out, feeling her eyes drilling a hole in his back. The problem wasn’t a lack of attraction on her part, he mused as he settled behind the wheel of his cruiser, but fear of what he made her feel.

  It had only taken a few bland inquiries of his new staff about the gardener to confirm she was in the middle of a nasty divorce. As he’d settled into his new job, one that promised a quieter pace he’d been yearning for some time, his initial thought upon hearing about her recent split was to continue ignoring the pull she wrought. At forty-three, he preferred uncomplicated relationships with women who enjoyed his dominant proclivities and sexual control. But during those first weeks of acclimating himself to the dynamics of policing a small town and the surrounding low-populated counties, he kept coming across the woman who’d first caught his interest ten years ago.

  The more she snubbed his teasing advances with her prim nose in the air and twitched that enticing ass as she turned from him, the more he wanted her. Maybe it was the challenge she presented, or the glimpse of interest he’d caught on her expressive face that kept him interested in pursuing her. He didn’t know her ex, Peter Reynolds, but the gossip grapevine reached his ears everywhere he went, and it had been easy to condemn the prick who had betrayed his family for a much younger woman.

  Nolan’s upbeat mood from sparring with Ms. Reynolds lasted while he stopped in for lunch with his mother and watched her beam over the vase of flowers. No one meant more to him than the woman who had adopted him when he’d been an orphaned toddler and raised him with a strict, but loving hand. His father passed away two years ago, which had been one of the driving factors in his decision to retire from his federal government job as a DEA agent and move back home. He smiled to himself as he now left her house to return to the office. Mia, along with a majority of the town, believed he gifted the plants and flowers to his occasional dates, and it tickled his mother and him to let them think that. Little did they know he hadn’t slept with the few women from Whitetail he’d taken out. When it came to sex, he never compromised on his kinks, and therefore stuck with pursuing submissive women for bed partners.

  Except when it came to Mia Reynolds.

  As soon as Nolan swung into the station’s parking lot and saw who was waiting for him in an unmarked car, he shoved aside all thoughts of his prickly landscaper. Sliding out of his police-issued SUV, he didn’t spare Chuck Campbell, his ex-boss at the DEA, a glance as he strode inside, tossing over his shoulder, “Let me help save your breath and your time. The answer’s no.” Letting the door shut in Chuck’s face, he nodded to Carrie, the dispatcher, on his way back to his office.

  Settling behind his desk, he fumed at the memories seeing Chuck again had conjured up. He had spent ten of his fifteen years with the DEA undercover, forced to sit back and watch one atrocity after another because his false identity and end goal prevented him from stepping in. When the position of police chief opened in his hometown, hundreds of miles from Washington, he’d snatched it up and had been blissfully happy with his choice.

  As Nolan knew he would, Chuck followed him into the office, shut the door behind him and held up a placating hand. “You don’t have a choice, and it gives me no pleasure to say that.” He tossed a photo on Nolan’s desk before taking a seat facing him. “Drug overdose, in your jurisdiction.”

  Shit. Gut churning, he looked down
at the photo and swore again. She couldn’t have been more than eighteen.

  “Best guess, she was between fifteen and twenty. We haven’t identified her yet. Third one in two months within a hundred miles of each other. The coroner reports for all three confirmed a heavy dose of tainted cocaine as cause of death.” Settling back in the chair, his ex-boss waited with patient calmness that crawled right up Nolan’s spine.

  Unable to help himself, he glanced down again and winced. It wasn’t the worst he’d seen, but bad enough. Pushing the picture toward Chuck, he said, “If it’s drug trafficking that’s resulted in death due to contamination, and it probably is, that’s out of my jurisdiction. Nice seeing you again.”

  Ignoring him, Chuck forged on. “Nice try. We discovered all three in your counties, which means you’re going to help us stop this flow, with luck, before anyone else turns up dead.”

  Nolan wasn’t a hard-hearted son-of-a-bitch, but he had left the DEA for several reasons, one being burnt out on undercover work. “I’m not about to spend another year of my life infiltrating a drug smuggling ring,” he warned. “I’ll retire first.”

  “You don’t have to, I’ve got agents ready to slip in if you can lock down the source. We also have a man undercover in Mexico with a known dealer and smuggler. Look, Nolan, I get it, I honestly do. But whether you like it or not, this is part of your new duties as chief. You know what kind of suspicious behavior to look for. If you don’t have the manpower, stake out the highway bars yourself. Those dives are always popular for drug transfers and you’re new enough on the force no one will recognize you right away.”

  Nolan fought back his annoyance. So much for trading in his taxing federal job for an easier, less stressful gig. “I left my bar hopping days behind me years ago, but you’re right. Those would be the best places to start. I can put a man or two on a rotating schedule, along with myself.”

  “Contact me with anything, even a suspicion. It’ll be more than we have now. It’s always been up to us to take over where Border Patrol has failed.”

  Nolan stood up for the agents willing to take on such a daunting, never-ending task as stopping the flow of drugs pouring over the border. “They can’t be everywhere at once.”

  “I know.” Chuck ran a hand through his greying hair. “I’m just frustrated and sickened by the senseless deaths.”

  “You and me both.”

  His plans to pursue Mia now she was free had just hit a snag, but Nolan wouldn’t let that stop him. He’d just have to find a way to squeeze her in around bar hopping the next couple weeks. He wasn’t looking forward to keeping an up close and personal eye on the clubs, but he would do what was necessary to get the tainted drugs off the streets.

  Chapter 2

  “What is this?” Mia narrowed her eyes at Trish and Dee who stood on the threshold of her upstairs apartment. She was tired and ready for a quiet evening after the busy workweek, although she appreciated the uptick in business that came with the start of summer. Keeping so busy would have helped her set aside the fact she was a free woman for the first time in her life if the friendly, well-meaning residents of Whitetail weren’t constantly bringing it up everywhere she went with their solicitous ‘how are you’s?’ She was just fine, damn it, or would be if everyone would let her be. As long as she avoided any contact with Peter and Tami, she could forget the pain of his betrayal, and of losing the home where she’d raised their boys.

  And if she could get one domineering police chief out of her mind. She hadn’t even seen the man since Wednesday, and here it was, Friday night and Nolan’s low, taunting voice still filled her head. She’d just gotten one controlling man out of her life, she didn’t need another. Saturdays were her busiest days at the nursery, and the last thing she wanted tonight was to entertain her friends.

  “This,” Dee announced, breezing past her to toss her purse on the sofa, “is an intervention. You no longer have the excuse you’re still married to hide out up here. All work and no play makes you very dull, girlfriend.”

  Mia closed the door after Trish entered and then eyed the two with a frown. “You are married, Dee.”

  Dee waived an airy hand. “You know Friday nights are Bob’s poker night. Unlike the asswipe, Peter, my husband has no problem with me going out for a drink with the girls.”

  “And, like you, Mia, I’m footloose and fancy free. Now, let’s go raid your closet. You can’t go bar hopping hoping to score dressed like that.” Trish eyed her baggy shorts and sloppy tee with a disdainful look.

  “I’m comfortable, which is how I want to spend a relaxing evening at home,” Mia returned, hoping her wince at Dee’s remark didn’t show. It had taken the slap in the face of her ex’s betrayal to open her eyes to the way Peter had suppressed her life.

  Dee padded into the compact kitchen and helped herself to the plate of cookies sitting on the counter. “Do you want to continue giving that man the satisfaction of keeping you where he wants you?”

  Mia stiffened. It was true she had allowed her husband to dictate her social life, and she wasn’t proud of that now. At the time, his constant referral to her as the mother of his children and her role as the wife of a prominent banker took precedence over gallivanting around with friends. Looking back over the years, she figured she could count herself lucky he hadn’t found fault with or discouraged her involvement in her weekly lunch and pinochle group.

  “I’ve been going out,” she defended herself now. “Two weeks ago, I went to see that new movie with you, Trish.”

  The younger girl shook her head as if Mia were a hopeless cause. “Going to a movie won’t get you laid,” she returned bluntly.

  “Who says I want sex?” Mia’s face warmed and she glanced away from the knowing looks they tossed her. Why the heck did Nolan MacGregor’s rugged face have to pop into her head whenever Trish mentioned sex? It’s just hormones, she told herself. Eighteen months was a long time to remain celibate.

  “The facts speak for themselves.” Dee ticked them off one by one without a qualm. “You’re in the sexual prime of your life, have only slept with one man and haven’t been with him since, what, months before he left a year ago?”

  “Holy shit! Are you freaking kidding?”

  Trish’s astonishment gave Mia the poke she needed to agree to go out with them tonight. Not because she intended to pick up a stranger, but because they were right. She needed to start somewhere in putting her past behind her. There was no one to blame but herself for allowing Peter to dictate their life together, including limiting their bedroom activity. When he’d thrown the hypocrisy of his constant lectures on maintaining appearances in her face with the truth of his affair, she’d sworn not to let him keep her from living the rest of her life to the fullest, so what was she waiting for?

  “I’m not confirming one way or another. What should I wear?”

  Both girls let aloud whoops before ushering her back to her bedroom. An hour later, Mia stood shaking her head, staring down at her pathetic wardrobe strewn across the bed. She wasn’t so old she couldn’t recall her teen years and the arguments she’d gotten into with her mother over clothing. Well, there was nothing risqué or too revealing about the garments they’d pulled out of her closet; just the opposite, in fact. Not even a hint of cleavage would show if she donned any of the blouses or tops, and while the skirts might reveal her calves and ankles, there wasn’t one among them that would land above the knee.

  “This will do.” Mia picked up a calf-length sundress that tapered from a snug-fitting bodice to a flared skirt. She’d always liked the way the hem brushed against her bare legs as she walked and how the bright flowers against the white background emphasized her tan.

  “Mmmm.” Trish tapped her compressed lips with one finger as she eyed the summer dress Mia held up. “Maybe if we leave a few of those top buttons open, that might work.”

  With capped sleeves and a rounded neckline, the sheath had been one she’d worn to church and out with Peter leaving no butto
ns opened. Which meant it passed his approval. That reminder sealed it. “Why not?” She marched into the hall bath, ignoring their snickers, and changed clothes. Slipping on a pair of sandals sitting by the front door a few minutes later, she announced, “I’m all set.”

  “Just two minor adjustments.” Dee reached up and flicked open a third button, the one that parted the bodice right at the dip between her full breasts.

  Since Mia’s best friend’s tall, slender build was the complete opposite of her shorter, rounder body, she didn’t expect Dee to understand why she preferred not to reveal as much flesh as her friend thought she should. She couldn’t decide if it was a good or bad thing Dee didn’t give Mia time to debate it. With a tug, Dee pulled the band off the tail end of her waist-length braid and quickly loosened the intertwined strands until the thick mass draped down her back in a heavy, mahogany flow.

  Mia scowled as Dee opened the door with an innocent smile pasted on her face. “You know I hate it down. It’s too hot and is always getting in my way.” The length had been her one, constant defiance to Peter’s never-ending complaints about her appearance. He’d wanted her to get it all chopped off from the day of their hasty wedding after they’d found out their one coupling in the back seat of his Chevy had resulted in a pregnancy.

  “Make an exception for tonight. Trust me, guys like long hair,” Dee returned, waving both Mia and Trish through the open door to prod them along.

  “I’ve got to agree.” Trish skipped out the door, swinging her shoulder-length blonde hair.

  Mia rolled her eyes and decided it was easier to go with the flow. “You two are impossible.” Locking the door, she followed them down the outdoor, side staircase. “Just two drinks, that’s all I’m staying for. I have to get up early.” Neither said anything, which worried her.