Read Online Unforgivable by Laura Griffin - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Laura Griffin
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she felt her cheeks heat. He’d finally kissed her. And he looked as if he wanted to do it again.
“I’ll be in touch,” he said, and then slipped out.
Mia watched him walk to his truck and get behind the wheel before closing the front door and locking up again.
“I sure hope he’ll be in touch,” Sophie said. “And I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“You didn’t. What are you doing here, though? I thought you had a gig tonight.”
“I go on at eleven, but I’m having a wardrobe malfunction. Any chance you could lend me that gauzy thing you wore to Alex and Nathan’s Christmas party?”
“The black blouse?”
“Yeah, the see-through one. I snagged my bracelet on this shirt, and I’ve got nothing else to wear tonight.”
“You can borrow whatever you want. Just don’t wake Sam.”
Mia led her into her bedroom and straight to the minuscule 1930s-era closet. It was the least charming of the house’s old-fashioned features.
“So, what’s up with you and Ric Santos?” Sophie asked as Mia handed her the blouse.
“Nothing.”
A perfectly shaped eyebrow lifted. “Then why were you blushing like a tomato when I showed up?”
“I wasn’t.”
Sophie let it go as she stood before Mia’s mirror and shrugged into the shirt. Mia usually wore it over a camisole, along with black pants. Over Sophie’s black lace demibra, it looked infinitely sexier.
“Kind of slutty, I know,” Sophie said. “But onstage, you have to push the envelope a little, or you blend in with the crowd.”
Sophie could wear a burnt-orange shirt to a UT game and still not blend in with the crowd.
“You need to make a play for that man, Mia.” Sophie glanced at her in the mirror. “That dark and dangerous thing he’s got going on is very hot.”
“Why don’t you make a play for him?”
Sophie tucked in the shirt and gave Mia a get-real look. “First off? I’m not a bitch. And second, he’s, what, five-eleven? I like to wear heels. You, on the other hand, would be perfect for him.”
Mia tried to look uninterested. “I try not to getinvolved with guys I know from work. It gets complicated.”
Yeah, she’d tried really hard tonight, hadn’t she?
“Problem with that attitude is you’re a workaholic. Where are you ever going to meet anyone?” Sophie fluffed her hair. “Anyway, what was he doing here? Is there a break in your case?”
Mia gave her the nutshell version of the zoo fiasco. By the end of the story, Sophie’s mouth was hanging open.
“Unbelievable. You’ve really had a shit week, haven’t you? You get reamed out by Snyder, carjacked, shot, and then you win the worst-babysitter award, all in the space of three days.”
Sophie sounded like Ric, and the gnawing fear was back again, along with the throbbing in Mia’s arm.
“But you know what they say,” Sophie said cheerfully. “Bad luck comes in batches. So does good. You should probably buy a Lotto ticket. Next week will be better.”
“I don’t see how it could be worse.”
After borrowing some slutty earrings to go with the shirt, Sophie took off for her gig, and Mia checked on Sam again. He was curled up on the twin bed in her guest room, one leg out, one leg under the covers—the same way Vivian always slept. Mia’s heart squeezed as she watched him. And she forgave her sister for all of the hurtful things she’d said earlier. Vivian was a mom first and foremost, and she had every right to be fiercely protective of her son.
Mia returned to the kitchen, which was usually her favorite room in the house. But it was too quiet now, with only the faint whisper of the gas stove. She turned off the burner and cleared the beer bottles from the table.She glanced at the window above the sink. There was a gap between the curtains, allowing a clear view of her to anyone lurking outside. She reached over and tugged the panels together. She needed some real window treatments, not this decorative doily crap the previous owner had
“I’ll be in touch,” he said, and then slipped out.
Mia watched him walk to his truck and get behind the wheel before closing the front door and locking up again.
“I sure hope he’ll be in touch,” Sophie said. “And I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“You didn’t. What are you doing here, though? I thought you had a gig tonight.”
“I go on at eleven, but I’m having a wardrobe malfunction. Any chance you could lend me that gauzy thing you wore to Alex and Nathan’s Christmas party?”
“The black blouse?”
“Yeah, the see-through one. I snagged my bracelet on this shirt, and I’ve got nothing else to wear tonight.”
“You can borrow whatever you want. Just don’t wake Sam.”
Mia led her into her bedroom and straight to the minuscule 1930s-era closet. It was the least charming of the house’s old-fashioned features.
“So, what’s up with you and Ric Santos?” Sophie asked as Mia handed her the blouse.
“Nothing.”
A perfectly shaped eyebrow lifted. “Then why were you blushing like a tomato when I showed up?”
“I wasn’t.”
Sophie let it go as she stood before Mia’s mirror and shrugged into the shirt. Mia usually wore it over a camisole, along with black pants. Over Sophie’s black lace demibra, it looked infinitely sexier.
“Kind of slutty, I know,” Sophie said. “But onstage, you have to push the envelope a little, or you blend in with the crowd.”
Sophie could wear a burnt-orange shirt to a UT game and still not blend in with the crowd.
“You need to make a play for that man, Mia.” Sophie glanced at her in the mirror. “That dark and dangerous thing he’s got going on is very hot.”
“Why don’t you make a play for him?”
Sophie tucked in the shirt and gave Mia a get-real look. “First off? I’m not a bitch. And second, he’s, what, five-eleven? I like to wear heels. You, on the other hand, would be perfect for him.”
Mia tried to look uninterested. “I try not to getinvolved with guys I know from work. It gets complicated.”
Yeah, she’d tried really hard tonight, hadn’t she?
“Problem with that attitude is you’re a workaholic. Where are you ever going to meet anyone?” Sophie fluffed her hair. “Anyway, what was he doing here? Is there a break in your case?”
Mia gave her the nutshell version of the zoo fiasco. By the end of the story, Sophie’s mouth was hanging open.
“Unbelievable. You’ve really had a shit week, haven’t you? You get reamed out by Snyder, carjacked, shot, and then you win the worst-babysitter award, all in the space of three days.”
Sophie sounded like Ric, and the gnawing fear was back again, along with the throbbing in Mia’s arm.
“But you know what they say,” Sophie said cheerfully. “Bad luck comes in batches. So does good. You should probably buy a Lotto ticket. Next week will be better.”
“I don’t see how it could be worse.”
After borrowing some slutty earrings to go with the shirt, Sophie took off for her gig, and Mia checked on Sam again. He was curled up on the twin bed in her guest room, one leg out, one leg under the covers—the same way Vivian always slept. Mia’s heart squeezed as she watched him. And she forgave her sister for all of the hurtful things she’d said earlier. Vivian was a mom first and foremost, and she had every right to be fiercely protective of her son.
Mia returned to the kitchen, which was usually her favorite room in the house. But it was too quiet now, with only the faint whisper of the gas stove. She turned off the burner and cleared the beer bottles from the table.She glanced at the window above the sink. There was a gap between the curtains, allowing a clear view of her to anyone lurking outside. She reached over and tugged the panels together. She needed some real window treatments, not this decorative doily crap the previous owner had
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