Unraveled (Unwrapped and Unraveled 2)

"Telling me their hopes and dreams isn't a burden."

"Isn't it? Knowing how you struggle to make ends meet, knowing what their dreams could potentially cost you? They're smart kids."

"I would do anything to give them what they wanted. College, a future, the Olympics." She pressed her fingers to her temples. How was she going to afford these things?

"Sell me the motel. Then you can give them everything they want. Everything you want."

Her head shot up. "That's what this is about? The motel?" She was agonizing about fulfilling her children's needs and he was angling it in a way that she would sell him the motel?

"No, that's not what this is about. But it's an answer."

Suddenly it hit her, a scenario so heinous it made her sick to her stomach. "You used them."

Mitch frowned. "What?"

"That's why they never mentioned marine biology and Olympics to me before."

"What are you talking about?"

"Those ideas were never in their heads until you put them there. How could you do that to them, Mitch? How could you set up my kids to further your own goals?"

He blanched, then reached for her hand. "Greta, I would never do that. They told me the first day on the beach about those things."

She jerked her hand away. "Bullshit." She slammed her chair back from the table and stood, so sick she palmed her stomach. "Pushing at me about the motel is one thing. I'm an adult. I can take it. But using my kids..." She glared at him. "Stay away from me. Stay away from my children."

He held up his hands. "Greta, you have it wrong. You know me. You have to know I would never use Jeff and Zoey that way."

She shook her head. "I don't believe you. I don't want to talk to you or see you again." Her eyes filled with tears and she blinked them back. "I mean it. You keep away from my kids. And you get the hell out of my motel. I want you out of there now." She left the picnic basket, ran to her kids to round them up and, despite their protests, hurried them back to the motel. Back to her home base, where she could protect them.

Where she could protect herself.

Where she could protect her heart from further being stomped on by a man she had thought she cared about, who she thought cared about her.

She changed clothes and locked herself in her office the rest of the day. Fortunately, her mother must have noticed how distraught she was, because she offered to take the kids with her. The kids were pretty upset by Mitch's abrupt departure, but she was doing what was best for them. They wouldn't understand how they could be manipulated by an adult.

She did, though.

She hadn't seen it coming, had been so overwhelmed by him, had let him lead her on, charm her children, her mother...

God, how could she be so stupid! It was one thing to use her--she'd had her eyes wide open the entire time. She knew what he wanted. She'd expected him to keep hammering away at her in his attempts to get her to sell the motel. But to prey on her children? That was unforgiveable.

She thought she knew him, thought she was getting to know him even better these last few days.

She didn't know him at all.

At least her ex-husband was up front about being a bastard. Mitch had been insidious about it.

When Heath came on duty early that evening, she let him take over and went to her house, took a shower and locked herself in for the night.

Tomorrow was Christmas Eve. She had things to do. She wasn't nearly ready for the holidays, and not even close to being in the holiday spirit.

She stared out the back door, watching the crest of white waves slide into the sand.

She thought of Mitch, of how easily he'd led her to believe he was a nice guy.

The things they'd done together...her body still burned remembering the way he'd touched her, kissed her, how it felt to have him inside her.

Her heart ached. She had started to care about Mitch, had started to think that maybe--

She wrapped her arms around herself, feeling stupid yet again.

When the hell was she going to smarten up about men? When was she going to learn that they couldn't be trusted?

When was she going to stop handing a man her heart on a silver platter so he could crush it in his hand?

Chapter Eleven

Mitch stood on the balcony of his penthouse suite in Daytona Beach, staring out at the blue water as dawn broke over the horizon.

For the first time in years, he didn't feel like grabbing a board and catching the first wave of the day. What he wanted to do was get in a car, drive down to Ft. Lincoln Beach and force Greta to listen to him.

He shouldn't have left. It wasn't like him to walk out on a fight, especially when he'd been unjustly accused. He should have stayed and talked to her, calmed her down, followed her back to the motel and made her listen to him until she believed him.

But Greta had been burned badly by a man before, so trust wasn't easy for her. Something about her kids, and their dreams, and her not knowing about them...

That wasn't territory he needed to be stomping all over.

He just hoped the Christmas present he'd left at her mother's house for the kids didn't piss her off. But he'd already done it and it was too late to undo it.

Eventually she'd figure everything out. Until then, the best thing he could do for her was stay the hell out of her way. She'd already had one man try to control her life. He wasn't going to be the next man to do it. She had to have the right to make some choices on her own.

He'd already made his choices, and he had some suggestions, if she'd ever give him the chance to tell her about them.

In a few days Greta had had a profound effect on him.

He sipped his coffee, looked out over the water and thought about the little girl with braces and braids he'd brushed off when he was an arrogant nineteen-year-old. He'd been destined for big things back then, couldn't wait to travel the world and see everything, make his fortune and become famous.

He'd traveled the world, seen everyone, made his fortune. Fame? Eh, he wasn't sure he was famous or not, or whether that even mattered.

The only thing that mattered to him right now was that little girl with braids and braces who'd grown into an amazingly capable woman with auburn hair and gorgeous emerald eyes. A woman who'd almost single handedly raised two bright, incredible children.

There was this family that he wanted to get to know better, because he cared about them. All of them.

Which frankly shocked the hell out of him, because if there was one thing Mitch Magruder didn't do, it was put down roots.

For the first time in his life, he suddenly wanted to. And that was a scary damn thing to even think about.

Unfortunately, the one person he wanted to talk to about it had just kicked him out of her life.

So now all he could do was take a step back and wait.

And hope.

Christmas Eve was always a bustle of activity for Greta. The kids, hyped up on excitement, drove her crazy, but always managed to drag her into the holiday spirit. And right now she really needed it after what had gone down with Mitch yesterday.

Jeff and Zoey had zoomed through their chores at the motel that day with vigor, knowing there was a payoff at the end of the day. She grinned watching them work, wondering why they couldn't be that zealous every day.

She had someone covering the motel that evening, so they headed off to her mother's for dinner. As was typical, the whole house was decked out in lights. Don had done most of the outside lights--beautiful white icicles that now draped down and blinked at passersby.

"Where's Mitch?" her mother asked as soon as they kids brushed by to go find their cousins.

"He's not coming, Mom."

Don frowned, leaning over their mother's shoulder. "Why not?"

Her mother crossed her arms. "I thought the two of you--"

"I don't want to talk about it. And don't mention it to the kids, either." She'd told Jeff and Zoey that Mitch had to leave on business at the

last minute. They'd been disappointed, and of course it was a lie, but it was the best she could come up with. Now she could only hope her mother and brother would let the subject drop.

The tree was lit up, filled to maximum with ornaments, new and old, and the angel sitting at the top that Greta could still remember her father putting up there every year. It never failed to fill her eyes with tears seeing that burnished gold angel, tarnished with the passing years, sitting atop the sweet-smelling pine tree.

They ate ham and roast beef--turkey would come tomorrow--filled their bellies until they wanted to burst, then cleaned up and sat in the living room playing games and singing Christmas carols, laughing and reminiscing about holidays past. Don and Suz and their kids took off around eleven. They'd be back for lunch tomorrow. Jeff and Zoey headed into one of the bedrooms to watch a movie--hopefully to fall asleep--and Greta and her mother locked themselves in her mother's bedroom to do their annual midnight present wrapping.

"I swear, Mom," Greta said, dragging a bag onto the bed. "Every year I believe we're going to get to this early, and every year it seems to get later."

Her mother shrugged. "I already wrapped most of mine, so when I finish these last few I can help with yours."

"Thanks." Greta had bought clothes for the kids. Necessary evils and the kids hated it, but she also managed to save up for a new MP3 player for Jeff and some DVDs Zoey had put on her wish list. Had to put some fun things in there too.

"You want to talk to me about Mitch now?"

Greta shook her head. "He wasn't who I thought he was, that's all."

Her mother's fingers stalled on the gift she was wrapping. "What do you mean?"

"I really don't want to talk about this, Mom. Not right now." Not when her emotions were so raw. "Maybe after Christmas."