Janelle Denison: Too Wilde to Tame

Mia hated letting this moment between her and Amelia pass without saying more, but she had no choice. "Excuse-me," she said and went to discuss business with the couple.

Once again, the business end of her new career took precedence. One custom order led to another, and in between were the stained-glass purchases the guests were making so they could take their art home with them tonight. Finally, the last call was made for anyone who was interested in placing a bid on the silent auction items.

Needing a break and a moment alone to catch her breath, Mia slipped into the back room where the erotic pieces were displayed while everyone else was congregated in the front area of the gallery. She took a drink of her second glass of champagne as she glanced at one of her designs with a SOLD tag attached to it, feeling both giddy and amazed at how much the piece had gone for-almost enough to pay her rent for the next month. Amy had told her everything was going so well that Mia could easily expect a five-figure check before the night was through.

Her success was definitely heady, but one thing was undeniably missing from tonight's festivities: the one man who'd made it all possible. Cameron . She felt that loss in a soul-deep way. Even though she'd accomplished so much tonight, she had no one to share it all with.

"You look absolutely beautiful tonight."

The deep, sexy voice belonged to only one man she knew. Mia was certain she was dreaming, or hallucinating, until she spun around and found Cameron standing directly behind her. He looked so good, with his tousled dark blond hair, a collared shirt that showed off his wide shoulders and chest, and a pair of khaki trousers that fit him to perfection. Although his demeanor seemed reserved and guarded, his gorgeous green eyes told Mia just how much he wanted her. Still .

She was so elated to see him, she nearly jumped right into his arms. Instead, she exclaimed breathlessly, "You came!"

Disappointment, and even a hint of sadness, passed over his features. "You didn't think I would?"

Her fingers curled tight around her champagne flute. "Honestly, I wasn't sure."

"You still haven't learned to believe in me, have you?" It was a simple question that didn't require an answer, and he didn't wait for one. "I've been here for a while. An hour at least. I've been watching you bask in your well-earned success."

She laughed and shook her head. "Amazing, isn't it?"

"Not considering the talent in all these designs," he said with a smile that went straight to her senses. "I had no doubt you could do it."

"I owe you a huge thanks," she said, the words feeling so inadequate when they'd shared so much.

"It's not your gratitude I want, Mia." There was a bite to his tone, and he glanced away for a moment as if to compose himself before looking at her again.

"I came in here to tell you that I know how difficult this was for you, to let your family see this side to you, but everyone I've talked to is very happy for you, Mia." His voice was gentle this time, as were the fingers he tenderly brushed across her cheek. "Now that you've put yourself out there, don't hide who you are inside. Be true to yourself, your feelings, and what you want out of life. And if this is it," he said, gesturing toward her work, "then embrace it with everything you have and everything you are."

He turned and left before she could reply, but his words remained with her long after he was gone. Could she be true to herself and what she wanted? With her stained-glass art, yes, she'd finally taken that step. But with Cameron… that loose end haunted her long after the guests had left for the evening.

By the end of the night, her career as a stained-glass artist had taken off. Her personal life, however, had crashed and burned.

MIA had known since the night of the gallery show that she and Amelia needed to talk, and it was a conversation long time in coming. She chose Sunday morning to pay a visit to Amelia, because she knew her father would be out fishing with his buddies and her stepmother would be home alone.

Mia pulled up to the house she'd grown up in and found Amelia out front on her knees as she planted new flowers along the walkway. Gardening was Amelia's passion, and Mia experienced a pang of regret for all the times her stepmother had tried to share her love of plants and flowers with Mia, only to have Mia rebuff her attempts.

Releasing a breath to ease her anxiety, Mia slid from the car and made her way toward Amelia, wondering if her stepmother would ever forgive her for being so self-centered and such a spoiled brat as a child. For rejecting the love and affection Amelia had tried so hard to offer her, until finally her stepmother stopped making the effort.

The clicking of her sandals on the walkway alerted her stepmother of Mia's presence, and Amelia glanced up at her in startled surprise. She was wearing a wide-brimmed hat to shield her face from the sun, but the warmth Mia saw in her stepmother's eyes was from a different source entirely. It came directly from Amelia's generous heart, and this time Mia basked in that warmth and kindness like one of the flowers Amelia was planting.

Amelia smiled up at her. "Hi, Mia. Your father isn't home," she said automatically.

"I know." Mia shifted on her feet and swiped her palms down the sides of her jean skirt. "I stopped by to talk to you."

"Oh." That announcement took Amelia off guard, and she stood, tugging off her gardening gloves. "In that case, let's go inside. I could use a cool drink, and I just made some fresh lemonade this morning."

Mia followed Amelia into the kitchen, and when she tried to help with the drinks, Amelia gently shooed her away. So Mia sat down at the table, and a few minutes later Amelia set a glass of lemonade in front of her, along with an empty plate and a big basket of fresh baked muffins.

Mia picked one of her favorites from the abundance of baked goods-a French apple streusel muffin-and smiled at Amelia. There were enough muffins in the basket to feed a small army. "Were you expecting company?" she asked, a teasing inflection in her voice.

"Actually, no." Amelia laughed and selected a blueberry muffin for herself. "Sometimes I forget that it's just your father and I. I prepared such large meals for so many years to feed all you kids, the boys especially, and sometimes I slip back into old habits."

Mia sliced open her muffin and slathered butter on one side. "You took very good care of us, you know that, don't you?"

"I certainly tried." Amelia tipped her head toward Mia, her expression curious. "Where did that comment come from?"

"My heart," Mia said without hesitation, and because it was the truth. "I came by today because there's a whole lot of things I need to share with you. Things I should have said and done years ago."

Worry replaced Amelia's initial speculation. "Is everything okay?"

"I'm hoping it will be, after today." Mia took a bite of her muffin, taking the moment to gather her thoughts. "First, I want to apologize for the way I've treated you, and for not letting you be a part of my life."

"Mia," Amelia began softly, and Mia was certain her stepmother was about to smooth things over and tell her it was okay.

But her past behavior wasn't okay, and Mia held up a hand to stop Amelia from speaking. "I need to tell you this."

Amelia sat back in her chair, her gaze reflecting a deep understanding. "Okay."

Mia pushed her half-eaten muffin aside, her appetite gone for the moment. "When my real mother died I was only five, and because my father waited a month to tell me she'd passed away, and I didn't go to the funeral, I honestly believed my real mother was going to come back home someday. Then a few years later he married you, and I was in such denial I didn't want to accept you as my new mother. I resented your presence and what you stood for, and I rebelled and took it out on you. I'd lost my mother, and in my mind I felt as though I'd lost my father now, too."