Page 31 of Catching Mr. Right

“I wouldn’t know.” She sighs and picks up her ice cream, peers into the sloppy mess. “I was adopted. I don’t know anything about my birth parents.” Glancing up, she gives me a tight little smile that quivers her bottom lip. “You understand. Family is so important to you. I wish I had been as blessed as you and Summer are to have each other.”

“You could find your parents. There must be some way to search for them. If you want I can look into it.”

“You’d do that for me?” Her gaze is cautiously hopeful. “You’d actually help me look for my real parents?”

“Yeah, I would. If you wanted me to. I need to go back to the restaurant for a few minutes, but then we can head back to my hotel to look on the internet to find out what you need to do.” I get out of my chair.

She stands too. “Thanks, Sam. I appreciate this so much. Really. The idea of having to face all this alone is a bit more terrifying than I want to admit.”

“Anything for Summer’s best friend,” I tell her, because when it comes to my sister I would do anything, and she would want me to help Mandy. Also, I’m finding it harder and harder to turn down this girl, especially when she’s not trying so hard at being flirtatious.

Perhaps she’s too young, and nothing is going to change that, but she’s not as childish as I had myself convinced. “Come on, let’s go.”

***

Mandy’s sitting on the edge of my bed, her knees tucked up to her chin, her bare feet pulled in close with her hands clasping her ankles. Those pink shorts are slightly dangerous to a man’s health. Especially when you add her smile and laughter to the mix. My laptop’s open on my thighs, and it’s a balancing act trying not to drop it with my erection pitching a tent in my suit pants.

I divested myself of my collared shirt as soon as we got to the hotel, dropped it over the back of the tufted feature chair in favor of my undershirt, maximum air conditioning, and an ale. Mandy settled for vodka from the mini bar and a bottle of pink lemonade that she mixed in a teacup, and sipped at with her middle finger crooked in the air while she eyeballed my chest. She didn’t say a word, but her teeth found her lip in a dick-jerking manner.

Strange girl.

Eccentric, guileless woman.

That Mandy sits somewhere in between is becoming more evident each time we meet. Being around her is almost an adventure. “They say once you’re eighteen you can apply to get your original birth certificate. It might give you a little information that can help, depending on if your adoption was closed or not. “Do you happen to know?”

“I have no idea. All I know is that I was adopted, and that it happened in Denver. But I don’t even know if my grandmother kept any documentation or information about it.”

“Well let’s cross our fingers that your original birth certificate at least has your biological mother on it. You didn’t think to apply for it before now?”

“Honestly?” She picks at the ends of her hair in a methodical manner. “I haven’t had the best of luck. Looking for someone who probably doesn’t want me to find them?” She pulls the band from her braid and shakes her hair out over her shoulder. “I’m still not sure it’s a great idea, but I can’t stand the idea I have no one.”

“You’re not on your own.” I set the laptop on the floor beside my chair, and scoot forward to grasp her knee. “You know that, right?” I stroke my thumb across the curve of her kneecap. “A girl like you can’t possibly have a problem finding people to adore her.”

“You’d be surprised.” Her eyes spark with sadness that she shutters away so quickly it might not have been real. It’s probably me. I’m seeing things because I’m concerned about her. Because she had to be in shock this afternoon and when that wears off she’s going to need someone. It probably shouldn’t be me. If I were smart I would call Summer and tell her to come over.

Instead, I slip from the chair to the bed and sit beside Mandy. She leans into my side, still curled up with her knees to her chin. Her cheek rests on my shoulder, and I clasp my hands together in my lap, so I don’t touch her the wrong way, because my mind keeps coming back to that kiss last night and the way she felt with her knees pressed into my sides. “You have Summer. And Claire. I know you have friends.”

Twisting her head to face me, her lips so close to my jawline the warmth of her breath makes my skin tingle, she asks, “What about you? Do I have you?”

“Mandy.” I rub my palms together. How am I supposed to answer that? How do I tell her that the answer is no but yes, without confusing her? I don’t want her to form the wrong idea about us, but I’ll always be no more than a phone call away.

“Don’t worry. That wasn’t some sort of come on. I’m taken, remember?” She shifts her weight from my shoulder and torso and the heat of her dissipates.

“That’s good.” Just once I’d like to consider my life from the perspective of a younger man without my experiences to color his vision. One who doesn’t have the knowledge of my age, who doesn’t wonder how many years he has left, and doesn’t follow the rules of social engagement. My sister flaunts it and she’s happy. I wish I could see past it. I wish I could forget how much it hurt to be the one who was left behind because when I was younger I didn’t use the sense I have now. “Really good.”

I turn to face her, only to find her gaze roving where my white T-shirt clings to my torso. Her lips, slightly parted and glistening, beckon to pick up where we left off last night. My knees sink into the mattress as I crawl closer to her. “We need to keep this platonic. Friends.”

“Yes,” she whispers. Her gaze locked on me, she puts her palm up to my shoulder. “We should be friends. Summer would like that.”

“Then yes.” I push against her hand and she tips back against the pillows. “You have me.”

“I have you,” she repeats. “Sam Sweets, I always knew you’d be mine.”

“Christ, Mandy.” A feral sound shoots from deep down in my cock right through my torso and up my throat. Mandy Pearce is in my bed, whispering sweet nothings about how she always knew we’d end up here. I shouldn’t touch her, especially while she’s coming to grips with tragedy. Especially when it doesn’t change a damn thing. She’s still too young, and I’m still going back to L.A as soon as Josef’s restaurant opens here. And I still have to work out how to call off my assumed engagement to my boss’s daughter.

If anything, that knowledge should be driving me right from the bed to my phone so I can call Summer to take over the dangerous task of being Mandy’s friend. Instead I surge forward to catch her mouth. Our tongues clash and lick at each other. I suck and nip at her lips and she does the same, whimpering into our kiss. Both her hands are on my shoulders, one squeezing the muscle there, the other smoothing down my back and trying to pull me on top of her.

This is insane. It’s madness. Crazy.

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