by Naima Simone
“Maddox.” Emotion—need, sadness, fear—clogged her throat, and she tried to pull away.
The two halves of her warred, battled. The half that yearned to give in, to remain here with him. To be what he wanted, deserved. And the half that couldn’t. That knew she would only make him resent her when she refused to give up always leaving and driving away from him. She silently wept because hurting him would be an inevitability.
But his arms banded around her, refusing to let her pull away.
“I’m not asking for forever, Cherrie.” He pinched her chin, tilted her head back so she had to meet his bright gaze. “You’re here for two weeks. I know you’ll be busy selling jewelry and enjoying the rally. And I have to work at the bar. But in between those times, I want to be with you. I want to wake up to you. Roll over and make love to you in the middle of the night. That’s all I’m asking, Cherrie. Give us those two weeks. Nothing more.”
Bad idea. It will not be as simple as he makes it sound.
If she were smart, if she possessed a self-protective bone in her body, she’d stand up, dress, get on her bike and drive into town. Not look back. This way only led to heartache, to longing for a future that didn’t belong to them.
She had to say no. As much as it would disappoint him and hurt her, she had to say no...
“Okay.”
CHAPTER FIVE
MADDOX HAD LIED.
After making love to Cherrie for the first time two weeks ago, he’d looked her in the face and lied.
When he’d told her he didn’t want forever, just the two weeks, it hadn’t been true. And now, as he watched her place her packed suitcases by his front door, he had to pay the price for that lie.
He stood in the foyer, composed and silent. But inside... Inside, he howled with panic, fear and grief. She was leaving him. Logically, he’d known the day after the rally would arrive, and he would have to watch her walk out his door. Yet somehow, he’d convinced himself that after the two weeks they’d shared—her hanging out at the bar with him, riding together, making the most passionate, soul-searing love, waking up together and sipping coffee out on the wraparound porch of his cabin... Somehow he’d convinced himself that she’d fallen in love with him just as he’d lost his heart to her, and Cherrie wouldn’t be able to leave Rose Bend. Leave him.
But he’d willingly, desperately fooled himself.
Cherrie had never spoken of a future for them. Never led him to believe she’d changed her mind about being wrong for him—being wrong for each other. Which was bullshit. She was created for him. His most primal instinct declared that fact with the assuredness of the sun rising in the east. Still, as each day passed, his hope of her realizing this truth diminished until here they stood. Her, with one foot literally out his front door, and him standing there, helplessly watching with a travel mug of coffee in his hand.
If this wasn’t so pathetic, he’d laugh at the absurdity of it.
“I think that’s everything,” Cherrie said, swiping her palms down the outside of her denim-encased thighs in a gesture that Maddox had come to realize was her tell. She was nervous.
Of what? That he’d throw himself at her feet and beg her to stay?
No, she didn’t need to worry. He wouldn’t do that.
Probably.
Maybe.
Fuck it. He couldn’t make any promises.
“Here.” He handed her the travel mug. “Coffee for the road. I’ll take your bags to the RV.”
“Maddox, you don’t have to do that. I got them.”
“Cherrie,” he said, not dropping his arm with the coffee. “Take the coffee. I have the bags.”
She sighed, rolling her eyes. But the corner of her mouth ticked up, and it required every bit of restraint not to press a kiss there. He needed to get out of here. Just for a few minutes to get himself together. And carrying her suitcases to the RV that would take her away from him provided the perfect excuse.
By the time he had the luggage stowed away and double-checked the security of the hitch connecting the trailer housing her motorcycle, he’d gotten ahold of himself and returned to the house.
“You’re good to go,” he said, sliding his hands in his front pockets.
“Thanks.” She smiled, but it trembled, and his gut rolled. “And thank you for the coffee. It’s really good. You could give Mimi’s Café a run for its money.”
“Now that’s just blasphemous,” he drawled, in spite of the pain clenching his chest.
She snorted, but it was faint, and this attempt at normalcy, at “we’re just buddies preparing to say goodbye,” grated his nerves. They were so much more than that. At least she was to him.
“Cherrie—”
“Wait. I have something for you.” She bent and picked up a small gift bag by the door that he hadn’t noticed. “I made it just before leaving for Rose Bend, meaning to sell it at Daryl and Belinda’s store. But I couldn’t. This was...is yours.”
Surprised, Maddox silently accepted the bag and reached inside, removing the tissue paper–wrapped item. In seconds, he held a black leather cuff similar to the one he’d noticed her wearing the first night at the bar. But this one was thicker, and instead of lotuses, silver Celtic crosses adorned it. He blinked, battling back the sting of tears as he stared at the gorgeous piece created by her own hands and that paid homage to his heritage.
He cleared his throat, “Thank you” hovering on his tongue. Just as soon as he could squeeze it past his constricted throat.
But instead, when he parted his lips, “Stay with me” emerged.
He couldn’t tell who was more shocked, him or her. Though he craved nothing more than for her to choose him, he’d had no intentions of asking again, of pressuring her. But now that the plea echoed between them, he didn’t make excuses or play it off as a joke. He couldn’t. Not when he felt like he was fighting for his life. Because in a way, that’s exactly what he was doing. Fighting for their happiness, their future. For them.
So no, he didn’t take it back. He repeated it. “Cherrie, stay with me.”
“Maddox,” she breathed, already shaking her head, but he crossed the space he’d deliberately placed between them, cupping her face and stopping the motion.
“Listen to me, baby,” he said, his thumbs sweeping over her cheekbones. “You love it here. I’ve watched you since you’ve been here. This town, Daryl and Belinda. You could be happy in Rose Bend if you just give it a chance.”
“Yes, for two weeks out of the year, Maddox,” she argued, circling his wrists. “For vacation. But moving here? That’s not realistic.”
“Why?” Urgency roughened his voice. “Why is it more realistic than living in Chicago? Stay here. With friends. With me. With me, Cherrie.” He gave her head a small shake. “With the man who wants you here. Who can’t imagine waking up tomorrow and not having you here. Who loves you.”
She stared at him, her lovely eyes glistening. Gently, she tugged at his wrists, and he obeyed the nonverbal demand, releasing her.
“Y-you can’t love me. We just met. It doesn’t happen like that.”
“You can’t tell me how I feel, baby,” he countered softly. “And if you want to stand there and claim that you don’t love me, too, then you’re in denial.” He tilted his head, lowered his voice. Gentled it. “You love me, Cherrie. And that scares the shit out of you.”
“No,” she murmured. Then more adamantly, “No, Maddox.” She lifted her hands between them, palms out. “Just because you say it doesn’t make it so. This is what I didn’t want. If I’m scared of anything, it’s this. I shouldn’t have let this go on. Let this happen.”
“Let what happen?” he growled. “Like I said on that hill two weeks ago, this was inevitable. You lost control of your health, of your life months ago. And now you’re so determined to regulate everything. Your diet, your lifestyle, your body.
Well, some things don’t work like that. When life, fate, God, or whatever you believe in offers you a thing of beauty and faith, you don’t analyze it to death. You don’t question the hows or whys. You just leap. I’m asking you to leap with me, Cherrie. I swear I will never let you fall.”
“You think you’ll be there,” she rasped, a tear slipping down her cheek. “And I believe with all my heart that you want to be. But Maddox, you didn’t want the life your mother led. It’s why you settled here. You need a woman who will be here by your side day after day. Who you can make a home with. Like you said, someone you can wake up to. I am not her. I can’t be. I’ve tried being someone I’m not for another person, and it only ended in pain and disillusionment. You’ll only end up resenting me like Kenneth did.”
“Don’t compare me to that asshole. Would I love to have you here every day instead of on the road several weeks out of a month? Yes. That’s because I want to hoard every minute, every second I can spend with you. But it’s not the amount of time we spend together, it’s the quality of the time. It’s what we do with it. Baby.” He reached for her, but at the last minute, curled his fingers into his palm and lowered his arms, desperate to touch her, but not without her permission. “Your happiness, your success, your peace is more important to me than coffee together. I’ll take those weeks, days. I’ll build you a workshop behind the house. Or we can lease a shop in town. Whatever you need. Whatever brings you back to me. Let me be your home base.”
“I can’t.” She backed away from him, her face twisted in such pain that he nearly rocked back on his heels. “Don’t you get it? I can’t. Kenneth said he loved me, but he ended up despising my job, despising me. I got over that. But if you... Maddox, if one day I saw that same look on your face, I wouldn’t get over it. I don’t know if I could survive that. So maybe I am scared or a coward. But at least now, you don’t hate me for not giving you what I can’t. For being who I’m not. I’ll take that, Maddox. It’s not much, but I’ll take it.”
She turned, pushing out the storm door and onto the porch. For a moment, Maddox stared, frozen to the floor. But then he charged after her, his heart pried open, pain a living, breathing entity in his body. And still, he couldn’t let her leave like that.
“Cherrie.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, voice thick with the tears she hadn’t shed.
He didn’t reply, just enclosed her in his arms, and on a sob, she turned, burrowing against him. For several minutes, he held her. Imprinting the feel of her against his body. Branding her lavender and vanilla scent in his memory.
“I could never hate you,” he murmured. “Never.”
With that, he released her and stepped back. Cherrie didn’t move, standing there with her head bowed, her thick curls hiding her face from him. But eventually, she lifted her head, met his gaze.
“I’ll miss you.” She brushed her fingertips over his jaw. “Goodbye, Maddox.”
He should’ve gone back in the house, but call him a masochist, he remained on the porch, watching as she climbed into the RV. Waiting as the sound of the ignition turned over. Staring as she carefully turned the vehicle around in his huge yard and pulled away down the driveway. Only when she hit the edge of his property did he turn around.
But then a car door slammed.
“Maddox!”
He spun around, and his heart stopped. Then kicked into high gear, revving like the engine on his beloved bike.
Cherrie ran toward him across his lawn. Full out. Like the devil pursued her.
He would’ve charged down the porch steps. Would’ve met her halfway. But once more, he was paralyzed. Only his heart and lungs worked, both pumping to keep him standing.
But when she dashed up the steps and crashed into him, leaping and wrapping him in her arms and legs, his body snapped back online. He locked his arms around her, crushing her. Part of his brain nagged that he might want to ease up his vise grip on her so she could breathe, but he couldn’t. And she didn’t complain. Which was good. Because again, he couldn’t let her go.
“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry,” she chanted, breathless, scattering frantic kisses over his mouth, jaw, cheek, temple. “Jesus, I almost left you. I can’t leave you. I need you. I love you.”
Maddox laughed, joy pouring out of him. Joy and love. So much love for this woman.
“I was scared,” she said, cradling his face between her palms. “Hell, I’m still scared. But I’d rather face that fear here with you, us conquering it together, than be alone without you. I believe in you. I believe in your faith in us. And I’ll get there. I’ll get over my fear. Because God, I love you, Maddox Holt. I want you to be my home base.”
He took her mouth in a kiss, thrusting between her lips and claiming those words off her tongue. She gave him her all, holding back nothing from him. Offering him her honesty, her fears, her trust and most of all, her love.
And he would make sure she never had cause to regret it.
“You’re my heart, so I think it’s only fair that I’m your home.”
“No, Maddox,” she whispered, brushing a kiss over his lips. “You’re everything.”
* * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from The Last Little Secret by Zuri Day.
The Last Little Secret
by Zuri Day
One
“Mr. Breedlove, your two o’clock is here.”
“Thanks. Send her in.”
“Will do.”
“Hold my calls, Anita. I don’t want to be interrupted.”
“Got it, boss.”
Nick shut off the intercom and second-guessed his decision for the fifth or sixth time. For a decisive man like Nick Breedlove, that didn’t happen often. Hands down, Samantha Price was one of the best interior designers in the business, the only one he’d put complete confidence in to get him and the company out of an impossible jam. That she had become available was nothing short of a miracle. Hiring her was no doubt a sound business decision but personally, was it wise? He heard a soft knock and braced himself. If seeing her again caused the same reaction as last time, he might lose control of the meeting before it began. It had been more than four years but the memories from that night flooded his mind as though they’d happened just yesterday. The door opened. There she was. In the flesh. More beautiful than he remembered.
He stood, with hand outstretched. “Hello, Sam. It’s been a long time.”
“Hey, Nick,” Sam replied, her smile tight yet polite as she clasped his hand ever so briefly while maintaining a good distance between them.
Was she remembering, too? Was the attraction that threatened to tighten his groin and quicken his breathing a mutual situation?
“I appreciate you coming on such short notice,” he managed, a 007 coolness hiding a set of hormones suddenly raging as if he were fifteen instead of the twenty-seven he’d turned just a few short months ago. He willed his body to relax, behave and not embarrass them both. Get it together, bro!
“CANN International is one of the largest, most successful hotel developers in the world. Plus, with the urgency given to meeting as quickly as possible, I was curious and couldn’t resist.”
“Thank you for coming.”
Once again Nick willed away the untimely musings and forced his thoughts more fully into the present. He motioned for Sam to have a seat in one of two chairs facing his desk, while he returned to his executive chair. A wide, paper-strewn desk created a physical barrier between them. Nick was appreciative of being reminded about this meeting’s intent—all business, nothing personal. His body would do well to get the message, too.
He watched Sam place her briefcase on the floor, then sit back with squared shoulders. Professionalism oozed from her pores. Of course she wasn’t daydreaming about that night long ago. She’d made time for the company and a possible job, not for him. Nick mentally chastised himself fo
r the moment of weakness that had taken him down memory lane, and the discipline it took to rein in his body now. No matter that her hands were softer than he remembered, the designer suit failed to hide those dangerous curves, and the subtle scent that tickled his nose when he’d neared her for that handshake had made him want to pull her into an embrace. If the interview went well and Sam joined his team, they’d be working very closely together. Too close for a casual sexual dalliance. He’d do well to stay focused and remember that.
“Can I get you anything before we begin?”
“No, thank you,” Sam replied. “I’m more than a little curious about what your assistant called an urgent matter but was unable to provide details.”
“As I’d instructed,” Nick said, leaning back in his chair. “I was equally intrigued with the news about you—that you were not only back in the States but here in Vegas and looking for clients.”
Sam crossed her legs in one graceful, fluid motion with no idea, Nick assumed, of how utterly sexy a move it was.
“How did you hear? Probably someone from the function I recently attended,” she continued before he could answer. “I did a great deal of networking to get the word out about the rebirth of Priceless Designs.”
“Possibly.” Nick shrugged. “It’s a small town. News travels fast. Especially when your mother is Victoria Breedlove.”
Sam smiled, this one genuine and relaxed. Her shoulders, tense and squared since entering his office, softened along with her face.
“How is your mother?”
“Still as nosy as she is wonderful.”
“I don’t know her personally, of course, but from everything I’ve read or heard about her she appears to have a great heart. That was evidenced at the luncheon, and the generous check presented to the Women in Business organization. I didn’t see her, though. Someone else presented the check.”
“Mom wasn’t there. She and Dad have fallen in love with Scandinavia and since he’s assured Mom his retirement is permanent, Dad has cloaked hotel location scouting missions under the guise of Nordic vacations. The girls stepped in to fill the gap left in her increasingly frequent absences.”
