All They Ever Wanted (2 page)

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Authors: Tracy Solheim

BOOK: All They Ever Wanted
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The embarrassment was due to the fact that he'd lingered a moment—
okay, maybe two
—longer than he should have while he surreptitiously admired the view that day when he had unwittingly walked in upon a strange woman showering in a supposedly unoccupied room. Not that anyone would blame him for remaining a few minutes longer than he should have. He was a red-blooded guy and the shower show was one that would have brought a dead man back to life.

The anger Miles felt was fueled by the lust that burned through him then and every freaking time he'd laid his eyes on Lori in the four months since. Miles hated the way his body lit up around a woman who was a mystery—a stranger who was very clearly hiding out under his mother's roof. He worried about what she might be running from and how it could impact
his mother, whose heart of gold might not be able to weather another betrayal. Lori was definitely a distraction the McAlister family couldn't afford right now. And yet, she mesmerized him with the things he wanted to do with her. Miles hadn't felt such an intense attraction to a woman since—

“Miles?” Tanya was eyeing him curiously.

He blinked to refocus.
Damn, damn, damn.
Had he missed a question while he was fantasizing about his mother's maid?

Surreptitiously glancing past the television camera again, Miles' eyes landed on the anxious face of Bernice Reed. The elderly woman had managed McAlister C&E for decades and now worked as the office manager of his campaign headquarters. As usual, she was outfitted like a neon sign, today dressed head to toe in bright pink with an oversized necklace to match. She was staring at him through rhinestone-studded glasses, wide-eyed with her hand to her chest and, knowing her, a “bless his heart” on her tongue. Beside her was Cassidy Burroughs, the teenager who operated the Patty Wagon, his mother's seasonal ice cream truck. Cassidy was holding her cell phone aloft, shooting video of the scene while wearing an expression on her face that clearly said,
What the heck?

“I'm sorry, Tanya.” Miles quickly returned his gaze to his other tormentor. “I was distracted thinking of my mother there for a moment.”
Jesus, next I'll be invoking apple pie and baseball.
His answer sounded evasive even to his own ears. He needed to wrap up this sparring match with Tanya before he spouted off any more political platitudes.

He looked up to find that Tanya's wide smile had a nasty edge to it. Miles resisted the urge to cross his legs and shield the family jewels. Instead he forced himself to remain relaxed. He was a professional and as such had prepared for anything she could throw at him.

Or so he thought.

“I asked you whether you and your opponent will be debating each other this summer.”

Miles could hear the Atlantic Ocean slamming against the sand across the street, the whirring of the ceiling fans above
their heads, and even the gentle hum of the LED lights shining on either side of his face, so he knew he wasn't dreaming. He peered over Tanya's right shoulder at Coy Scofield III, the young flunkie the party had dumped on him as a campaign manager. Coy was twenty-five with the political expertise of a gnat, but that hadn't mattered.

Until now.

The kid was talking a mile a minute into the cell phone glued to his ear, his cheeks flushed with what Miles could only assume was excitement. Coy had been very vocal that he wasn't thrilled to be stuck in a campaign where there wouldn't actually be a contest. When the opposing party's candidate had withdrawn after being arrested for alleged racketeering violations just days after this spring's primary, the “race” became a lot less enticing for a young gun trying to make a name in politics. Apparently, however, Miles had bigger problems than keeping his campaign manager happy. He carefully pushed the words past his lips so that the audio wouldn't capture the hint of anxiety in his voice.

“From what I understand, Brian Kendrick is having a tougher battle with the Treasury Department than to worry about debating me. That's why he's no longer running.”

“Oh, you haven't heard?” Tanya was practically bouncing in her seat. “Well, I guess that's understandable with your
family crisis
and all. But the opposing party is putting forth another candidate.”

“They can't.” Miles mentally reviewed the campaign laws. There wasn't a provision. He'd checked. So had the governor and everyone else in the party. The only way they could replace a candidate who'd been put on the ballot via a primary election was if the candidate was ill and could no longer serve the term of the office. The only illness Kendrick had was that of a terminal dumbass and the opposing party was out of luck on that loophole.

Tanya leaned back, seductively crossing her legs again as if to say
checkmate
. There was no mistaking the malice in her grin now. She was obviously enjoying the reaction her bombshell
had gotten out of Miles. “Technically the party can't add a name to the November ballot. But the voters can.”

Son. Of. A. Bitch.

A write-in campaign. There'd been talk of one during the initial days after Kendrick's arrest, but the pollsters had assured the governor and the national party big wigs that Miles' reputation was sterling enough the opposition wouldn't risk funding another candidate. Instead, they'd spend their time and money on a race that wasn't a shoo-in. Apparently, with all the talk surrounding his late father these past few weeks, some of the shine had worn off Miles' reputation.

“It's funny how these things work, isn't it?” Tanya seemed to be the only one on the veranda who saw the humor in the situation.

Determined not to let her—or any of her viewers—see him sweat, Miles leaned back in the stupid glider and tried his best to look unfazed. “Well, it's a lot better for the constituents to have more than one candidate. A two-party race offers voters greater opportunities to weigh the issues and make sure their interests will be best represented.” Miles was pretty sure he'd read that in a political science textbook somewhere, but at this point he just didn't care. He needed to regurgitate enough bullshit to get him through this train wreck of an interview with his shirt still on his back. “Since you have the inside scoop today, Tanya, do you mind telling me who my opponent will be?”

“Of course. We're headed to Shallotte from here for the big announcement. You'll be facing off against Faye Rich.”

“Faye Rich as in The GTO Grandma?” Cassidy blurted out from behind the camera and Miles hoped her words and his wince hadn't been caught on tape. The murmur from the lawn rose like a tidal wave as the crowd processed Tanya's bombshell.

Faye Rich was exactly what her name implied: rich as Croesus. She'd inherited a string of car dealerships from her father and married into more. Her commercials were legendary for their low-budget, smaltzy, down-home humor. Not to mention Faye had appeared in all of them since she was three years old. Now somewhere in her mid-sixties, she still was the voice
behind Rich Automotive, occasionally even dressed as the Easter Bunny, the Tobacco Queen, or Uncle Sam. She made it a point to appear at events in her souped-up GTO. Her voter recognition would be off the charts. And then there was the fact that her name would be easy to write in.

And just like that, Miles' life plan was broadsided by another curveball.

TWO

“O
h, lordy,” Patricia McAlister groaned as she shifted stiffly in the leather recliner. The bulky chair took up most of the small room in the rehab center where she'd been living the past week. With the remote control in her hand, she gestured to the television. “That Tanya Sheppard is a barracuda in designer clothing. Miles can't be happy with this turn of events.” Her soft chuckle sounded more like a sigh as she clicked the off button and shook her head. “If there's anything my son hates, it's having his carefully organized life derailed. I don't know if you've noticed this yet, Lori, but Miles can be a little prickly when things don't go his way.” She winked just as her lips settled into a resigned smile.

Lori Hunt laughed at her employer's tongue-in-cheek humor while she plumped the pillows on Patricia's bed. “Prickly” was tame compared to the words she would use to describe Miles McAlister. Heading up her list would be words such as: pompous, infuriating, overbearing, and hotheaded.

To the rest of the world, though, Miles was the proverbial Dudley Do-Right. Quick with a smile and a handshake or to help old ladies across the street, he was a true Southern
gentleman. In other words, he was the consummate politician. Except when he got near Lori; then a few uncharacteristic flaws in his polished exterior began to show. Miles certainly made no secret of the fact that he didn't trust her. He'd loudly hammered home that point numerous times since she'd been working at the Tide Me Over Inn.

Lori couldn't fault the man for protecting his mother, however. If she were being truthful, “honorable” would be another word she'd use to describe Miles. And she of all people knew firsthand that men with character were hard to come by. But living under his constant scrutiny posed a more serious problem—one to her own well-being. The more attention Miles brought to her existence at the B and B and in Chances Inlet, the more likely she was to be discovered.

Lori's palms began to sweat as she folded the soft throw blanket and placed it on Patricia's bed. She had stayed too long already. Too many people could remember her if asked. She'd planned to disappear two weeks ago, but then the car had clipped Patricia, leaving no one to take care of the cooking at the B and B. She couldn't leave the innkeeper in the lurch. Not when she'd given Lori a safe haven to heal and regroup these past months. Staying put also helped Lori atone for deserting her own mother.

Her plan of sticking to the shadows and keeping her nose buried in her work was becoming more and more difficult with Miles dogging her steps all day, however. It didn't help matters that he was also annoyingly sexy. Dark-haired, blue-eyed, and muscular, thanks to great genes and an addiction to the adrenaline rush of triathlons, Miles' picture could be listed in the dictionary under the phrase “tall, dark, and handsome.” Lori's own body practically sizzled whenever he was near. She kept telling herself it was simply a reaction to his irritating personality, but even she had to admit that was a lie more often than not.

“I can't say that I've noticed Miles being anything but a paragon of kindness,” she hedged, causing Patricia to laugh along with her. Miles' mother knew exactly how exasperating her son had been these past several months. Lori glanced at the
older woman admiringly. Patricia was still elegant and fierce despite being severely injured and left for dead by the side of the road.

“More like a paragon of cockiness,” Patricia said. “Don't get me wrong, I love my son. I love all five of my children to pieces. Each one of them is unique and wonderful in their own right, but that doesn't mean any of them is perfect. Miles was born with a hefty dose of self-importance. Fortunately, he's always used it to try and do good in the world.” She waved a hand dismissively. “So as his mother, I can't get too upset with him. He's very determined, you know.” Her eyes sparkled with pride even as she winced, presumably in pain, when she tried to adjust her injured hip in the slippery chair.

Lori poured Patricia a glass of water from the pitcher beside the bed. “I'm beginning to think that determination is a trait synonymous with the McAlister name.”

The older woman gave her a sly smile as she took the offered glass. “And I think that you know a lot about determination yourself, young lady.”

Avoiding Patricia's astute hazel-eyed gaze, Lori turned to straighten the pile of magazines on the table. This was a familiar dance between the two women: one where Patricia tried to unearth Lori's secrets while Lori do-si-do'd away. But the reality of Lori's life would only hurt her new friend, and after everything Patricia had done to help protect Lori, there was no way she was going to let that happen. So she deftly steered the conversation into safer waters.

“Do you think this Faye Rich woman is a serious challenger to Miles' campaign?” Despite his tendency to be an asshat where Lori was concerned, she still wanted to see Miles succeed in his congressional bid, if for no other reason than to allow her friend to experience some pride in her oldest son's accomplishment.

Patricia took a sip of the water before picking up the conversation as though she had been expecting a neat deflection from Lori. “Honestly, I don't know. Faye is a bit of a celebrity in these parts, so she has that going for her.” She toyed with the tie of her mint green robe. “I've known her for nearly twenty
years and this is the first I've heard of any interest in politics on her part, though. Frankly, I'm a little miffed that she'd throw her hat in the ring without telling me. I thought we were friends.” Patricia shook her head, her chin-length champagne-colored hair swinging softly from side to side. “Miles won't back down. Politics has been his singular focus for the past decade. I honestly believe his ambitions are what helped him heal after the death of his college sweetheart all those years ago. Although I sometimes think he's become too absorbed in politics. My biggest worry is that he'll marry someone for the wrong reasons.”

The people of Chances Inlet were a chatty bunch, and despite the fact that Lori kept out of sight while working at the inn, she'd overheard the story of Miles' lost love several times. The young woman had died in a car crash while studying in Europe. According to the local gossips, her death was the catalyst to Miles' single-minded determination to rule the world.

“I hate the way the media have misconstrued Donald's actions,” Patricia continued. “The last thing Miles' father would have wanted was to cast any shadow over his son's campaign.”

“The media rarely care about fairness, trust me.” Too late, Lori realized that she'd revealed more than she wanted to.

“Why does it sound like you're speaking from experience?”

Lori was saved from having to redirect the conversation a second time when Patricia's daughter Kate swept into the room. Statuesque, brunette, and athletic like the rest of the McAlister siblings, Kate possessed the same infectious smile as her brother Gavin. She was dressed in a bright linen sheath and cute sandals, and her knowing blue eyes sparkled with laughter behind her designer tortoiseshell-framed glasses. Leaning down, she hugged her mother before tossing her bulky medical bag onto the bed.

“Oh my gosh, I can't believe I missed seeing that interview in person. I would have loved to watch Miles sweat through that one,” she said with equal parts glee and disappointment.

The sibling rivalry among Patricia's two oldest children was
legendary within Chances Inlet, but Lori secretly suspected that neither one would be as successful as they were today without the other one egging them on. A familiar emptiness settled in Lori's stomach. She also secretly envied Patricia's children. Growing up, Lori's family life had been much different than the McAlister clan's rowdy brotherly and sisterly love. Still, she ached to return to the life she once had.
If only that were still possible
.

“That Tanya Sheppard definitely had more than one agenda,” Kate continued. “She looked like she wanted to nail Miles—and not in a way he would enjoy.” She laughed as her mother rolled her eyes. “Do you think Miles slept with her? I mean, I know my brothers attract pretty much anything with breasts, but I'd like to think they're a bit discriminating. Even ‘Practically Perfect Miles'.”

Lori quickly dismissed the fluttering in her stomach that the thought of Miles sleeping with the bitchy reporter—or anyone else—produced. Even if he didn't think of her as a petty crook or a freeloader, guys like Miles were no longer within reach for women like Lori. Her past would be more dangerous to him than it would be to his mother. Besides, she was leaving Chances Inlet at the first opportunity she could get. The sooner the better, judging by her overreactive libido.

Gathering up the breakfast menus she'd brought over for Patricia to approve, Lori turned to make her escape back to the inn. “I need to get the tea dishes cleaned up and put away. Miles checked in tonight's guests and everything is taken care of for the rest of the evening.”

“Uh-oh,” Kate teased. “We're embarrassing poor Lori with talk of the virile McAlister men. Sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt shop talk between you two. The inn looked fabulous on television, by the way, Lori. I'm sure my idiot brother never thinks to mention it, but we're all very grateful for everything you've done to keep the place up and running while Mom is laid up. You're a real saint.”

Lori swallowed harshly. Kate wouldn't be saying that if the woman knew even a hint of Lori's past.

“Cassidy has been a huge help,” Lori said. Cassidy was
another of the innkeeper's refugees, finding sanctuary at the B and B after her mother had been arrested for solicitation with a few counts of drug possession thrown in for good measure. Lori had become fond of the acerbic teenager these past months. Too fond. The longer she stayed in town, the harder it was going to be to leave when she needed to.

Kate laughed. “But not Miles? I'm sure he's been a huge pain in the ass.”

“Kate, stop badgering Lori. Miles has been as helpful as his campaign will allow.” Patricia reached out her hand and Lori walked over to take it. “Kate's right, though. I couldn't do this without you.” The look she gave Lori told her that the older woman knew she was risking a lot by staying. “Thank you for sticking around.”

Nodding stiffly, Lori gave Patricia's fingers a quick squeeze. “I should get back so I can start on those casseroles for tomorrow's breakfast. We have a full house in the morning.”

*   *   *

Patricia watched as Lori surreptitiously scouted out the hallway before cautiously slipping out of the room with her head bowed so that her wild halo of hair would conceal her bright caramel eyes. She sighed softly, thankful that the guarded young woman had been put in her path. Whatever she was running from, she knew Lori needed a haven in Chances Inlet more than the Tide Me Over Inn needed a cook and housekeeper. She was grateful beyond measure that Lori hadn't taken off yet. Not until Patricia could find a way to help her as much as she had helped the McAlister family.

“I wasn't kidding about her being a saint,” Kate murmured. “I don't care what kind of secrets she's hiding, the woman is one heck of a cook. We're lucky Miles hasn't driven her screaming into the ocean yet. There aren't too many women who would put up with him counting the silver spoons after tea each afternoon.”

Squeezing her eyes shut, Patricia let out a heavy breath. She seriously hoped her daughter was exaggerating, but something told her there might be some truth to the statement. Miles was
definitely in overprotective mode since his father's death—even more so since Patricia's accident. “Well, hopefully I'll be home soon and things can get back to normal.”

“That's the reason I stopped by. Good news,” Kate said. “I just spoke with the surgeon and the physical therapists and they all agreed that you could be sprung from here as early as tomorrow afternoon.”

Patricia's eyes snapped open. Her heartbeat ratcheted up at the thought of finally getting back to the inn. There was a little trepidation mixed in with her excitement, as well. If Miles was overprotective now, he would be ten times worse when she attempted to take back the reins of her old life.

And if Miles was bad, Lamar would be worse.

She let her lids slide closed again but not quickly enough to hide her troubled feelings from her perceptive daughter, who, despite her jovial ribbing of her siblings, took her duties as a physician seriously. Kate pulled Patricia's hand between her own. “Just because you're going home doesn't mean you still don't have a journey ahead of you. Recovery from this type of injury is a marathon, not a sprint.”

“And here I thought Miles was the only one of my children who never met a maxim he didn't put to good use.”

Kate chuckled and patted her mother's hand before reaching for her medical bag. “I'm serious, Mother. You still have several weeks before you'll be back to your old self. You need to take it easy. Lori and Miles haven't killed each other yet so your B and B isn't in any imminent danger. And with Miles needing to spend more time actually campaigning rather than having his coronation handed to him on a silver platter, there's less chance of him scaring her off. In the meantime, is there anything I can get you or do for you?”

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