bigger than the house I grew up in.”
Mia opened the front door and stepped aside to let him pass. She watched as he took in the beautiful interior. Her mother had redecorated both houses about five years ago and Mia had helped her with her choices. The guest cottage had been her favorite and she and her mother had been very proud of how it turned out. Mia had lived in the cottage the year after her mother had died, the space reminding her of the time they’d spent choosing colors and fabrics.
“The bedrooms are back here,” she said.
But he didn’t follow her. Instead, he stood in the middle of the living room. “Let me ask you a question. How do you feel about this whole thing? This visit.”
Mia slowly turned, setting the bag down beside her. “You mean our parents?”
“Don’t you find it a little…odd?”
She sighed deeply and smiled. “Yes?” Finally, someone who understood how she felt. “It’s not that I don’t want my father to be happy. After everything that’s happened, he deserves to find some happiness. But bringing a complete stranger into our family this late in the game just seems so…unnecessary. I know he imagines himself in love with—”
Jack gasped. “In love? Your father is in love with my—”
“Well, he hasn’t really said it,” she interrupted. “But he’s been so excited about this visit.” Mia paused. “What about your mother?”
“She says they’re just friends. My father was her one and only.”
“Well, then, maybe that’s the case. I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions. After all, at their age, romance seems a little too much to hope for.”
“Right. Those feelings go away once you turn…what? Fifty?”
“Sixty,” she said.
“And there’s the matter of the distance,” Jack said. “My mother lives in Chicago. Your father lives here. They could never carry on a relationship over that distance.”
“Absolutely right.”
Jack frowned. “Who knows, they might not even enjoy being together this weekend.”
“Yeah, maybe they won’t even like each other.” She met his gaze and saw the doubt there. Mia walked over to the refrigerator and pulled out a bottled water. “Would you like something to drink? Or maybe something to eat?”
“Do you have a beer?”
She pulled one out and handed it to him, then opened a bottle of water for herself and took a long drink. She had to be very clever about this. After all, her father was in a very vulnerable state and Elyse was a beautiful woman. If she had no feelings for him, then everything was fine. But what if she developed feelings for Mia’s father, only to crush his heart later.
Mia pushed away from the counter. “Why don’t we get out of here and get some dinner? I’m sure our parents don’t need us hanging around, hovering.”
She watched as he took a long sip of his beer. Even the way he drank beer was sexy, so casual, so masculine. Her breath caught in her throat and for a long moment, she didn’t breathe. The thoughts running through her mind were just a little bit preposterous. And yet, she couldn’t deny that Jack Quinn’s presence here was like a gift.
It had been too long since she’d had a man in her bed. And now, she’d been given the perfect opportunity—he was handsome, sexy, available and he’d go home at the end of the weekend. Why not take advantage while she could?
She took another swallow of the water, but it went down wrong. Mia coughed, putting her hand on her chest. Her eyes began to water and Jack crossed the room and gently patted her back.
“Are you all right?”
His warm hand smoothed over her back and she nodded. But she wasn’t okay. Her thoughts focused on his touch. She wanted him to kiss her, but she wasn’t sure exactly how to make it seem as if it was his idea. “I—I’m fine,” she said, taking another sip of water. “I think we should go.”
“Lead on,” Jack said.
Mia walked toward the door, but she was sorely tempted to turn around and walk into the bedroom, just to see what he’d do. If she’d thought he’d follow her, Mia might have tried it.
“YOU HAVE TO TRY the fish tacos,” Mia said, jumping out of the Mini Cooper and slamming the door behind her. Jack crawled out of the car and followed her up to the window of the roadside taco stand.
He stared up at the menu, working his way through the extensive list of choices. After finding their parents engrossed in a study of an old picture album, Jack and Mia had hopped into her car and driven toward the coast. They’d pulled off the highway about fifteen minutes later at a small wooden shack with picnic tables gathered around it.
“I’ve never had a fish taco,” Jack said.
“Don’t they have them in Chicago?”
“We’re kind of hot dog and pizza people there,” Jack explained. “Although it’s a great city for food, so I’m sure there are plenty of places to go for fish tacos. I’ve just never had one.”
“Well, Manny’s is the best,” she said. “It’s been around forever. My girlfriends and I used to come here when we were in high school, looking to meet boys. Lots of surfers used to hang out here. Blond, tan, smelling like the ocean.”
She ordered a basket of four fish tacos and a couple of beers. When the server handed her a tray, she turned and headed toward one of the picnic tables.
The songs had always touted the superiority of California girls, but Jack had never really seen the attraction. But here, beneath the late-afternoon sun, with a warm breeze blowing off the ocean, he couldn’t recall ever meeting a woman more captivating than Mia McMahon.
She grabbed a taco from the basket and bit into it. Jack followed suit and when the mix of fish and fresh tomato and avocado and cheese all melded in his mouth, he groaned softly.
“Good, right?”
“Wow. Really not what I expected,” he said.
“I know.” She grinned. “So tell me why you decided to come to California with your mother. Don’t you have a job? Or are you a professional mama’s boy?”
Jack chuckled. “I wasn’t completely convinced that your father wasn’t some kind of letch just looking for a little action from a sweet and trusting woman, so I decided to come along and check him out personally. And yes, I do have a job. I’m a sports writer. What do you do? Let me guess. You’re either a professional houseguest insulter or a roadside restaurant critic?”
“I’m a graphic designer. I have my own studio. We do a lot of work for restaurants and hotels in the Bay area. Menus, signs, point of sale displays. I designed the sign right over there for Manny.”
Jack glanced over his shoulder. “The dancing tacos?”
“They’re not dancing, they’re hitchhiking,” she said. “This is a roadside taco stand. They want a ride.” Mia frowned. “I guess it does look like they’re dancing.”
God, she was adorable, Jack mused. Everything she said was endlessly fascinating, even when it didn’t make sense. He took another bite. “I’ve never seen tacos with legs and arms…and faces, but they look good. You’re good.”
That brought a laugh. “And you’re not a very good liar,” she countered. “Don’t you think this whole thing is kind of strange?”
“Hitchhiking tacos?”
“No, my dad and your mom. It’s kind of unexpected.”
He drew a deep breath and nodded. “My dad died twenty-two years ago. I was nine. And since then, Mom’s never shown the slightest bit of interest