Mia Found (Starting Fires Book 3) Read online

That was unexpected. “But you want to?” I asked, needing clarity.

  “Mia…” He looked at me sideways, saying, Are you crazy? “Yes. Trust me. I want to. But we can wait. This doesn’t have to happen now. Or tomorrow. Or even in a week.”

  For the first time in my life, it disappointed me to hear those words from a man, but I tried to smile. Maybe he was right. “Okay,” I said. “We can wait.”

  “Good,” he said. “Now come on. I have a lot to show you today.”

  I smiled again, but it was honest this time. “What are we waiting for?”

  CHAPTER TEN

  HAND IN HAND, WE walked to his car. All of his affection made me feel giddy. Something had changed for him, and today I planned on finding out what that was. Why now, after all this time, did he suddenly want me?

  He drove me to a quiet shopping strip overlooking a river. Restaurants and clothing stores lined the bank, all with clear views of the water. Even though it was only twenty minutes from my home, I’d never been. The wind pushed off the water and made my hair dance around my face. I took a deep inhale, appreciating it.

  “Where are we going?” I asked as he started down the strip.

  He was walking backwards, turning around to look at me. “It’s a surprise,” he said with a wink.

  I skipped towards him, falling into his chest. “I adore surprises,” I said. My arms wrapped around his middle and awkwardly we moved towards the water. A railing overlooked the river and we stopped as his back hit it.

  Paul pulled away from me to lean against it. He was silent, peacefully eying the scene.

  “Is this the surprise?” I asked. It was beautiful, but I’d seen plenty of rivers before. And while I could appreciate this one, it wasn’t much different from any of the others I’d seen.

  “No,” he chuckled. “But it’s stunning, isn’t it?”

  The sunlight reflected along the top, tiny ripples and waves sparkling as the water moved. The wind was cool, easing the soft heat of the sun. The opposite bank was clear of commercial growth. In the place of shops and restaurants, trees and sand dunes were scattered up and down it.

  “That’s a wildlife preserve,” Paul said, pointing at it.

  Almost as if it’d heard him, a flock a birds burst from one of the trees, casting black specks across the clear blue sky. I watched them fly away into the horizon. Now was as good a time as any to ask him what I wanted. I took a breath and went for it.

  “Paul?”

  “Hmm?” He was distracted, eyeing the water.

  “What, uh, what’s changed?” His eyebrows furrowed as he tried to determine my meaning. “With us, or me, I mean.”

  “Nothing,” he shrugged, unable to look at me. “I…I still feel the same way about you as I did the first time we met.”

  And what’s that?

  He took a breath and continued. “I guess the only thing different is me. I realized I want to know where things will go between us. I spend too much time analyzing and guessing, trying to see all the possible outcomes. I’m reluctant about every decision I ever make, but I’m tired of being that way.”

  He turned towards me and I moved with him. We were facing each other, our bodies touching. He gave me a shy, hesitant smile as he reached up to twirl a finger into my hair. “I like you, Mia,” he said. “A lot. And that has never changed.”

  “I like you, too,” I said, blushing. “So are we…?” together. I couldn’t quite say it. The question seemed so juvenile. There were eight years between us and I wasn’t eager to remind Paul of that.

  “Yes,” he grinned. “If you want to be.”

  I nodded my head vigorously, and he laughed. “You’re cute, Mia,” he said. “Cute and sweet and pretty.”

  We walked down the strip, passing every restaurant and shop. Excitement was bubbling over inside me. Where was he taking me? What would we see?

  As we were nearing the end, I couldn’t take it anymore.

  “Paul!” I whined. “Where are we going? The suspense is killing me.”

  He chuckled. “That’s part of it, Pretty. What’s a surprise without a little suspense?”

  I huffed, but continued to follow.

  Finally, at the last store, all the way at the end, not even one you’d notice, Paul stopped and turned to me. His arm came out, gesturing towards it. “Go ahead,” he said.

  The sign out front said Atlantis in whimsical, scrolling script. Inside the windows I could see an array of merchandise. Sculptures. Lamps. Hookahs. Paintings.

  Curious, I took a step inside.

  Immediately, a sweet, yet smoky, aroma hit me. The store was larger than it appeared on the outside. Different sections were set off. One was completely dedicated to statues. Some made from clay. Some metal. Some even carved from stone. Beneath all of them, a tiny note told you who’d made it, where they were from, and what their inspiration had been.

  My favorite was designed by someone named Kit Charlie. It was of a woman carved from marble. Naked. One hand covered her eyes, the other rose to the heavens. She looked triumphant, but also shamed. Who was she? What had she done?

  Another section was dedicated strictly to jewelry—all unique, beautiful pieces. I meandered around until my feet found the art section.

  A large wall was dedicated to local painters. Their styles and techniques were all different. Landscapes. People. Some completely abstract. Some plain. Some incredibly complex.

  I looked over my shoulder, expecting to see Paul behind me, but he wasn’t. I peered around the store and found him by the cash register talking to an older woman. She nodded her head and he turned to look at me. With a smile, Paul waved me over. Unsure of what this was about, I slowly walked to him.

  “Mia, this is Catherine Zulu,” he said when I approached. “She’s the owner.”

  “Hello,” I said, meekly.

  “Lovely to meet you,” she said, smiling.

  “Cat is interested in seeing your paintings,” Paul told me. “Do you have any pictures?”

  “Uh, yeah. I mean, yes, yes I do.” Nervously, I pulled my phone out of my pocket. I was always hesitant to show people pictures of my work, afraid they’d hate it. I didn’t want to feel rejected, and it occurred so often I’d started to believe no one would ever like my art. Paul put a reassuring arm around my waist as I gave her my phone, the camera roll displayed on the screen.

  Her eyes narrowed and her lips puckered as she swiped her finger, inspecting each one of them. A knot formed in my throat and I swallowed, hating this feeling. My hands began fiddling. I was messing with my hair and awkward on my feet.

  Paul leaned into me and gave my hip a reassuring squeeze. “They’re beautiful,” he whispered into my ear and kissed me softly on the head. Immediately, the tension left me and I relaxed into his side.

  “How much?” Catherine suddenly asked.

  “For…?”

  “For the paintings,” she said. “I have room on my wall for at least three. If they sell well, I’ll buy more.”

  “You want to buy them? You want to buy my paintings?”

  Catherine chuckled. “Yes, dearie. If the price is right. I’ll tack on my seller’s fee of course, but I think these will sell. I’ll buy more when they do.”

  If they do.

  I hadn’t ever thought of pricing my paintings. It had never went this far. “Um…” I said, uncertain.

  “Which ones do you want?” Paul interjected. “That will make a difference.”

  “Of course,” Catherine said. I pulled the pictures up for her again and watched as she picked her three. One of a girl free falling backwards—her hair danced around her face; her dress was made of red and black chaotic brush strokes. Another where the woman’s face was clear and focused—blues and greens dancing on the canvas. She looked sad, as if she’d been crying. The last was the one of my hand intertwined with Paul’s.

  “That one isn’t for sale,” I rushed out, wanting to keep it.

  “Oh,” she said. “Well, how about this
one?”

  It was one of my plainer pieces. The silhouette of a woman, giant birds flying around her. The birds and woman were all black with splotches of different colored paint scattered around the canvas.

  “Okay,” I said.

  She stared at me, waiting for something. Paul gave my side a rub.

  “How about $100 for the birds, $150 for the blue, and $200 for the red,” he said.

  My eyebrows shot up. That sounded way too high.

  “Sounds perfect,” she said. “Bring them by this week and I’ll have a check and contract ready.”

  “Thank you,” I said, and trailed after Paul as we left the store.

  Outside, I stopped moving and stared at him.

  Sensing it, he turned back. “What?” he asked.

  No one had ever done something like this for me. It was out of my comfort zone and I was too self-conscious to do it for myself. Now, my paintings would be on display for people to see. Even if no one bought them, it made me feel proud.

  I rushed him, wrapping my arms around his neck. Before he could even say anything, I firmly planted my lips on his. I kissed him with passion, with love, and with thanks.

  He was dazed when I pulled away.

  “Thank you so much,” I said. “It’s the best surprise anyone has ever given me.”

  “It was nothing,” he said, biting his lip and shrugging.

  He knew though. This had meant everything to me.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  LATER THAT NIGHT PAUL and I went to Marlowe and Lucas’s home. It was a surreal, exciting feeling. Marlowe had known how I felt about Paul for months, always with her hinting and prodding. Now, we were walking up their driveway.

  When she’d texted and asked if I wanted to stop by, I hadn’t told her Paul was with me, hoping to give her a surprise. Hearing the car doors slam, she opened the front door and eyed us with curiosity. Her stare ventured from our smiles to our joined hands. Realization hit her and she beamed.

  “Finally!” she said, stepping outside.

  Paul chuckled. “Calm down,” he said when she rushed him.

  Marlowe shoved him lightly in the chest. “I will not calm down. I’ve been telling you to call her for months.” Done with her scolding, she hugged him and then me. “Finally,” she repeated.

  When Lucas joined us on the sidewalk, Paul released my hand, and I tried to hide my smile. Paul is afraid of Lucas, I thought. My brother was chewing gum and the annoying rotation of his jaw made him look snarky and rude. He narrowed his eyes at Paul and took a deep breath.

  I knew Lucas was protective of me, and perhaps with good reason. After Fontenot, he’d put up with a lot on my behalf, but that didn’t mean I wanted him to puff up his chest and throw intimidating glares at every man I expressed interest in.

  I made a disgusted, put off snort. “Can you chew gum like a regular person? You look like a cow.” I mocked him, throwing my jaw out in big, exaggerated chews.

  He spit the gum into their tiny garden and Marlowe huffed. “Gross,” she said under her breath.

  “So…” Lucas said, ignoring her. “You two are together now or some shit?”

  “Uh…” Paul said, looking to me.

  “Lay off,” I said. “We’re here together and we want to enjoy your company. Stop acting like a bully.”

  Lucas eyed Paul suspiciously, but let us come inside. It wasn’t two minutes later Lucas pulled Paul into the spare bedroom and shut the door.

  “Are you kidding me?” I said to Marlowe. “He knows I’m a grown woman right? I can date whoever I want.”

  She sighed. “I know. Let him get this out of the way. Paul’s a good guy, though. So I can’t imagine he’ll have reason to protest.”

  When the door finally opened, I was pouting, my arms crossed over my chest. Laughter echoed down the hallway and they came into view, both smiling.

  “All right Mia,” Lucas said. “I won’t kill this one.”

  I rolled my eyes.

  Later we walked across the street to Charles and Wally’s home. We played cards and everyone there but Nicole, Marlowe’s friend, had brought someone. We were paired off in couples. Lucas with Marlowe. Charles with Priscilla. Wally with a girl I’d never met named Kristen.

  And me and Paul.

  Butterflies danced in my stomach as Paul and I held hands or tentatively touched one another. I was being bashful, but loved this feeling. Each time he gave me a shy smile, or sweet kiss on the cheek I felt my whole being come alive. We were in our own little world, oblivious to those around us. It was only he and I. Our eyes. Our smiles. I wanted to be alone with him again—to cuddle on a couch or snuggle in a bed. There was so much about him I didn’t know. There was so much about him I wanted to.

  The card game ended and Paul and I stood in the foyer. He was looking down at me, and I loved the way his eyes spoke. Without using words, he was able to tell me just how much I fascinated him. They took me in, dancing around my features. Tentatively, he brought a hand to my hair and pushed it behind my ear.

  Lucas made a loud cough as he walked by and stepped into the kitchen. Still frightened of my older brother’s wrath, Paul pulled away with an awkward laugh.

  “I’m gonna go upstairs,” he said.

  The only reason for him to venture up there would be to use the restroom. Smiling, I walked into the kitchen and watched his back as he climbed the steps. I propped against the counter next to Nicole, my cheeks burning with an enthusiastic grin.

  “So,” Nicole said, getting my attention. “You two are dating?”

  She and I weren’t what I’d call close, but through Marlowe we’d at least become acquainted. “I guess. I mean, I think so.” My brow furrowed and my lip pursed in thought. “Yes. We definitely are.”

  She chuckled. “You sound so confident.”

  I smiled over at her. “It’s new. Very new. As in, it just happened today new.”

  She sighed, eyeing Kristen with a scowl. “Everyone is either dating or married now. And Wally and what’s her face seem to be getting along great. Isn’t that just awesome?”

  “Do you...have you and Wally…?” I didn’t want to pry, but now I was curious. Wally and I had a tiny fling a few years ago. No one even knew about it, and I planned to keep it that way. Lucas would kill him. In the end, it was pretty obvious we had absolutely no chemistry. The only time we’d kissed had been awkward and weird. I might as well have been kissing my brother. We agreed it was better to pretend it had never happened, but we still talked and he had never mentioned Nicole.

  “No,” she scoffed, as if she was offended. “Please. We just fuck.”

  I grimaced, not expecting the vulgar admission. “Oh.”

  “Now the only man even remotely interested in me is Fontenot. You know Fontenot, don’t you?”

  I nodded. Boy, did I know Fontenot.

  “Well,” she continued, “he’s the only single guy hanging around and trust me, he ain’t coming anywhere near this.”

  “That’s probably a good idea,” I said quietly.

  Nicole’s phone vibrated and she casually looked at the screen. “The devil himself,” she said, and despite being adamant that she wanted nothing to do with him, I saw her soft smile as she read his words. Quickly, it was replaced by a put off sigh. “He wants to hang out tonight.”

  She looked around the room. Marlowe and Lucas were cuddled up on the couch. Kristen sat close to Wally. Charles and Priscilla shared a recliner. When Paul came back down, I was sure we would leave. No matter which way she looked at it, she would be the odd man out.

  “I don’t have anything better to do,” she said and grabbed her purse. Without telling anyone goodbye, she left.

  Paul found me leaning against the kitchen sink, staring out the window. He put his hands along my waist and gave me a squeeze.

  “Do you want to leave?” he asked, a deep whisper at my neck.

  “Yes,” I said and my body heated, desperate to be alone with him again.

  I t
urned around and kissed him softly on the lips. Immediately, he responded, stepping closer. Our bodies pressed in, eager and willing to know each other.

  What did Paul Macione look like naked? I was so accustomed to his dress shirts and slack, it was hard to picture him in anything else. But I had a feeling he was strong. My knees grew weak thinking of him moving above me. We’d agreed to wait but there were other things that we could do.

  When my tongue touched his lips, he stifled a moan, and clinched his hands at my waist. “We should go,” he said.

  “Yes,” I replied, barely a whisper.

  Our goodbyes were quick—not even bothering to give more than a wave from their foyer. Lucas eyed us with malice, but Marlowe elbowed him in the side.

  During the entire drive, I was off in a daydream—imagining the warmth of his skin and the scent of his comforter as we tangled our limbs underneath it. So caught up in my dreamy trance, I didn’t realize we’d pulled into my apartment complex.

  When the familiar landscape broke my daze, I looked over at him. Fiona was probably home. I didn’t want to share any time with him, and if she was there, we’d have to escape to my tiny room. Our walls were thin. The idea of being intimate while Fiona lingered around made me uncomfortable.

  “We can’t go to your house?” I asked.

  “Sorry,” he said, looking remorseful. “I have to be up early tomorrow and need to call it a night. But really, Mia, today was perfect. Amazing. I want to see you again soon.”

  Disappointment settled in my belly and I frowned. I wasn’t ready for our day to be over.

  “I promise,” he said, grabbing my hand. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  A small wave of self-conscious dread filled me. It had been so long since I’d wanted to date anyone and I hoped I was reading him correctly. With a strengthening breath, I pushed that aside.

  “Okay,” I said. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

  When I moved to get out, he reached for my forearm and pulled me back.

  “I will call,” he said. “I’m not playing some mind game with you.”

  Men were hard for me to read. Usually, I believed everything that fell from their lips and then within a month or week, sometimes even a day, I learned how gullible I’d been. With Paul, the truth of his intent was still cloudy. I didn’t want to believe he was like all the rest.