Her Sexiest Mistake by Jill Shalvis Read Free Book Online Page A

she hit her head on the visor she’d pulled down to block the lowering sun.
    Heart in her throat, soda dripping off her nose, she turned and looked out her window.
    And froze.
    A cop stood there gesturing for her to roll down her window. Oh, God. Oh, God…She rolled the window down an inch. “Y-yes?”
    “I need to see your driver’s license and registration, please.”
    “Um…okay.” She willed her heart to stop knocking into her ribs. Sticky with the soda, she fumbled through her purse, her fingers shaking like her momma’s did when she needed a drink real bad.
    “Are you alone?” the officer asked, leaning in slightly to search the interior of the car with those flat cop eyes.
    “Yes, sir.” Hope handed him her license and registration.
    He eyed her for a long moment, then looked over her paperwork. “Wait here.”
    And then he was gone. With her license.
    She counted to twenty while watching the same dark clouds move in, blocking out the sun. And then to one hundred. And then she started counting backward, and had gotten back to twelve when the cop showed up again.
    He handed her the license. “Careful driving, kid. A storm is moving in.”
    She wasn’t a kid, but she nodded obediently, and then he was gone.
    And she was alone again, but that was better than being arrested for map theft. She studied the soda-soaked map, then got back onto the freeway.
      
    Mia got home from work at six. This was early for her on an evening when she should have been out celebrating, but the fight with Ted and then the fire in her trash can had pretty much sapped her.
    She figured she owed herself a quiet evening, with nothing more exciting than an extremely hot shower and a good book. Oh, and maybe a quick private little happy dance for the Anderson account. It was sweet indeed, enough to almost make her forget that she no longer had a right eyebrow.
    Getting out of her car and into the sticky pre-storm humidity, she refused to crane her neck to see if there was a motorcycle parked two houses down. No need to look, because she didn’t care.
    Her heels clicked on the concrete walkway, but at the sound of pounding feet, a dribbling basketball, and male swearing, she pivoted the other way, to the end of the street and the basketball court there.
    A competitor at heart, Mia loved a good game—of anything, but especially basketball. Something about the sweat and fast pace, not to mention the display of hard, damp, sexy bodies in shorts, called to her.
    There was definitely a game in action, a vicious game of three-on-three. She moved closer to watch.
    She recognized her neighbor’s twin college-age sons and the fifty-something guy who lived on the next block over who’d once fixed her plumbing. There was another neighbor, frowning with concentration as he dribbled. Then the twenty-something she’d seen in Kevin’s apartment.
    And then, Kevin himself. Mia’s gaze locked on him and held. He’d looked amazing in his jeans and leather jacket. He’d looked damn fine naked.
    But on the court…be still her heart. He wore black basketball shorts that hung to his knees, a loose gray tank top that said You don’t have to attend every argument you’re invited to. His hair was damp, those yummy eyes following every movement of the ball with the same fierce intensity he’d used to make her come too many times to count, his long fit body primed and hard and damp with sweat.
    He charged after the player with the ball, and with a hand that moved fast as lightning, he reached in and stole it. In tune to the cheers of his two teammates, he dodged free and ran down the court with lithe agility and speed, dribbling at the speed of light. Lifting his arm, he twisted in midair, performed a one-handed layup, and came down hard with a quick triumphant pump of his fist.
    Someone threw the ball into play again, and Kevin caught it just as a player from the opposite team body-slammed into him.
    They both crashed to the ground.
    Mia held her