“I like it,” Bentley said. “I didn’t think I would, but I do. I’m surprised.”
“I think your Emmy knows you rather well.”
A smile lit Bentley’s face, softening his serious expression. “Yes, she does. Okay, Jen. Tails, it is. But no hat.”
Jen grinned, helping Bentley off with the jacket. “That was my big wish,” he admitted. “I do love a man in a top hat.”
“Sorry. Not happening.”
“That’s fine. But so you know? The socks are blue, Bentley. There is no point in arguing over it either. You’re going to lose.”
“Fine,” he huffed. “Blue socks.”
Jen nodded. “Blue socks.”
I hid my smile. The old minx knew exactly what he was doing.
The girls arrived, chatting as they came in. My gaze found Dee’s, and she smiled, her dimple appearing like a small dip in her skin then smoothing out. Like a magnet, I was drawn to her side, and I immediately wrapped an arm around her waist. I pressed a kiss to her cheek, my greeting low so only she could hear.
“Hello, my Dee. You’re a sight for sore eyes.”
Her gaze was warm and her body loose in my embrace. The first time I had called her “my Dee,” she had been startled, but she was used to it now. Neither of us was big on endearments, but I thought she liked the slightly possessive feel of my name for her. I knew she loved it when I called her Deirdre in private, but that brought a whole other reaction from her.
“Did you pick out a cake?”
I led her into the room with a laugh. “Oh, we over-picked.”
Jen embraced her and Cami, filling them in on the idea. Cami grinned from her spot on Aiden’s lap, stating she was sure Emmy would like the idea.
“She does,” Bentley spoke up. “I texted her to make sure.”
Jen stood back, smiling widely. “What a lovely wedding party you all will make. Now, girls, time for a fitting. Do you want the dresses a secret until the day?”
Cami stood. “Aiden has already seen the sketches, but yes, I think I would like the final dress a surprise for the day of the wedding.”
I looked at Cami, amazed. “I didn’t know you designed the dresses. You never said anything.”
She smiled, looking shy. “Yes, I did. Emmy’s too.”
Aiden draped his arm around her shoulders, tucking her into his side. He dropped a kiss to her forehead and grinned proudly. “They’re spectacular.”
“Hush,” she admonished him.
I inclined my head. “Given how talented you are, Cami, I’m sure he’s telling the truth.”
Bentley nodded. “I have no doubt. Emmy said you made her dream dress. I can hardly wait to see her in it.”
Cami looked down, her cheeks flushed.
Dee laughed. “Stop embarrassing my sister.”
“All right.” Jen clapped his hands. “You know where they are. Go slip into them and I will be along.”
“How long will you be?” I asked.
“Half an hour or so.” Dee looked hesitant. “You don’t have to wait.”
I shook my head. “Yeah, I do. Go do your thing. We’ll be here when you’re ready.”
She squeezed my hand, a delighted smile on her face. “Okay.”
The air was cool but pleasant when we left Jen’s place. I helped load the trunk with the extra boxes, including mine, and turned to Dee.
“It’s a great night. Fancy walking home?”
“I’d like that.”
We waved off Aiden, Cami, and Bent, and watched as they drove away. I held out my hand, entwining my fingers with Dee’s, and we headed home.
I told her how shocked we’d been to discover Jen was a man and me recounting my reaction to the chaos that surrounded him, made her laugh.
“He is eccentric and uninhibited, but he is so good at keeping others organized. His business is booming.”
“How did Cami meet him?”
“In one of her classes. I think he was a guest lecturer. They started talking and formed a friendship. He often asks for her advice on fashion. He is very sought after, but for Cami, he agreed to help Emmy.”
“I like him. He’s a riot.” By the time I relayed the entire vest story, she was almost weeping with laughter.
“Oh, I wish I’d seen that.”
“It was the funniest thing.” I sighed. “It felt good to laugh.”
She reached across, hugging my arm. “I know. It’s good to be back to normal, yes?”
I dropped a kiss to her head. “Yes.” I stopped at the corner. “Through the park or the street?”
“It’s late.”
I chuckled. “The park is well lit.” I tugged her into my arms and kissed her. “I promise you’ll be perfectly safe.”
“Park, then.”
I steered her across the street, asking about her day. We took our time strolling through the small park. There were several other couples out walking and a few joggers getting their last run in for the day, and even a pretzel cart still open and doing business.
I looked at Dee. “Pretzel?”
“Oh yes.”
“Mustard or cheese sauce?”
“Um, cheese sauce, of course.”
I kissed the end of her nose. “Of course. Grab a bench and I’ll bring it over.”
I waited behind the short line, glancing at Dee, and my heart swelled. The streetlight caught the color of her hair, turning it into a fiery glow around her face. She was elegant and lovely sitting on the bench, her legs crossed, foot swinging.
The thought of those legs wrapped around me later made my cock twitch, and I shook my head to clear it. I heard her low laughter, and I knew she was thinking the same thing. She was so perfect for me. I had the feeling she was beginning to see that.
I winked at her, got our pretzel and the small cup of cheese sauce, and joined her on the bench. A slight wind stirred her hair, and she shivered a little. I looked around and stood, holding out my hand.
“There’s another bench around the corner out of the breeze. We can sit there.”
She followed, and we settled on the wooden planks. “Better?”
“Yes.”
It was a little dimmer and more secluded, yet we could still see other people. We ate the warm pretzel, watching as the park grew emptier, sharing bits of our day. The pretzel cart shut down, his day done. He wheeled his cart in the other direction, and the area became deserted.
“I think we scared everyone away,” she mused, wiping her mouth. “That was so good. I can’t remember the last time I had one.”
“I know. Probably the last baseball game I went to with Bent and Aiden.”
“You have a little cheese sauce by your lip,” she pointed out.
I wiped at the corner. “Okay?”
“No, it’s still there.”
I wiped with my finger and looked at it. It was clean. “Did I miss it again?”
She turned, lifting her hands. I lowered my face so she could get the smear, but she surprised me when, instead, she cupped my face, pressing her lips to the side of my mouth.
“Oh, my bad,” she breathed out. “It was a shadow.” She brushed her mouth over mine again. “My mistake.”
I smiled against her lips. “I think, Deirdre, you simply wanted a kiss.”
“And if I did?”
“All you have to do is ask.”
She shifted closer. “All you have to do is take, Maddox.” She ran her tongue over my bottom lip.
With a low growl, I jerked her toward me, crushing her to my chest and sliding my tongue into her mouth.
She tasted of salt, pretzel, and Dee. It was intoxicating. I fisted her hair in my hands, tilting her head and kissing her harder. She clutched at my jacket, her hands wrinkling the lapels, yanking on the fabric, and I didn’t care.
I wanted her closer.
I slid my arm around her, holding her tight. She wrapped her arms around my neck, playing with the hair at my nape. Her breath filled my mouth. Her scent filled my head.
I groaned low in my throat. She whimpered her reply. Our tongues touched, danced, fought for control. I retreated; she advanced. I pushed back; she relented. It continued until we were breathless, needy, and gasping for air. Lost to the moment.
To each other.
I buried my face in her neck.
Emotion I never thought I would experience burst from my heart. Words I never thought I would express to another person fell from my lips.
“I love you.”
Dee stiffened, drawing back, her face shocked.
“Don’t . . .”
I silenced her with my mouth.
“I love you,” I repeated.
She shook her head. “No.”
I cupped her face, holding her head still. “I love you.”
“You can’t,” she whispered, fear filling her eyes.
“I can and I do. I love you, Deirdre Wilson. With every fiber of my being, I love you.”
She clutched my wrists, prying my hands from her face. She stood, jerky and uncoordinated.
“We need to go home now.”
I gaped at her. “That’s all you have to say?”
“What do you want me to say?”
A ripple went through my chest, and I stood, staring down at her. “I want you to tell me what you’re feeling.”
Her thumb went to her mouth, her teeth moving so fast I knew she would bring blood. I snatched it away, holding her hand within mine. “What are you thinking, Dee?”
“That you’re caught up in this wedding craze. You don’t mean it. Let’s go home and forget what you said.”
I stepped back as if she had slapped me. “Forget it? Caught up? I’m not caught up in anything except the fact that I love you. I’ve loved you for weeks and I was waiting for you to feel it too. Waiting for the right time.”
“You don’t love me.”
Anger and rejection made my voice sharp. “Don’t tell me how I feel.”
“Maddox, let’s go home. It’s late, I’m tired, and you’ll regret this in the morning.”
“The one thing I’ll regret is your reaction. I tell you I love you—something I have never said to another person—and you tell me I don’t?”
“It’s not part of our arrangement!” she insisted, her voice rising in pitch.
I stepped closer, holding her hand against my chest. “Fuck the arrangement, Dee. Forget all that shit. This is you and me. Now. Us. I love you.”
She shook her head. “No.”
“So, what? All this has just been fun? The dinners and laughter? The closeness? You’re telling me that was all fake? All part of the arrangement?”
“No, Maddox!”
“Then what are you saying?”
Our eyes locked, her gaze tormented. Mine pleaded with her, bleeding love and need.
“I care about you, Maddox. I’ve always cared.”
“But . . .”
“I don’t love you. I can never love you.”
I stepped back, pain lancing through my chest.
She didn’t love me.
She could never love me.
I stared at her, my spine rigid, my neck tight.
How did I misjudge the situation so badly?
I lifted my hand, shocked to feel wetness on my face.
Reality hit me—cold, bitter, and excruciating.
Once again, someone had denied me love, and I was letting that person see my weakness.
I dashed away the traitorous dampness and cleared my throat.
“Well, that changes everything, I suppose.”
“It doesn’t have to.”
I barked out a laugh. “Yes, Dee, it does.”
“We can forget what happened, what you said. Go back to how it was twenty minutes ago.”
I shook my head. “I can’t stop loving you, Dee.”
A tear ran down her face. “And I can’t start loving you, Maddox.”
I felt the fissure in my heart, the one that had begun to mend and heal the last few weeks, burst apart. My voice turned cold and distant.
“Then I suppose it’s done.”
Without a word, she turned and ran. And I let her.
She ran from me. The love I offered. The life I wanted to share with her.
I sat down heavily, my legs no longer able to support me. I had no idea how much time passed before I stood. Forcing my feet to walk, one slow step at a time, I made my way toward my condo building. My mind was blank, my brain working overtime to stop her words from breaking through.
“I don’t love you. I can never love you.”
At the edge of the park, I lifted my head and looked across the street. The lights in my penthouse that automatically came on at dusk burned high above the street. Like a martyr, I counted down ten floors, finding Dee’s windows. They were dark.
With a heavy sigh, I knew I didn’t want to go to my place quite yet. I walked down the street to the coffee shop and sat at the old counter, sipping the bitter brew. The lump I felt in my throat made it difficult to swallow, but I kept going, losing track of time, drinking cup after cup.
Dee’s words played on repeat in my head. Every time I heard them, it was as if a fresh wound opened. I felt exhausted, my shoulders hunched over, too weary to hold myself straight.
She had witnessed my pain, the agony her denial had drilled into me, yet she still left.
I couldn’t wrap my brain around the woman who walked away and the woman I had fallen in love with.
Resigned, I wondered if I ever would.
“Hun, are you all right?”
Blinking, I looked into the concerned gaze of the waitress and cleared my throat.
“Yes, thanks. I’m fine.” I lifted my cup, ignoring the slight tremble to my hand. “I’d like a refill if it isn’t too much trouble”—I glanced at her nametag—“Valerie.”
She tilted her head, studying me. Her brown eyes were kind, the laugh lines around them countless. But she shook her head. “I think, young man, what you need to do is to go home, or call a friend.”
“I just need more coffee.”
“Sweetie, you’ve had six cups. You’ve been sitting there for hours, staring into space. Is there someone I can call for you or something?”
I glanced at my watch, shocked to see she was right. Embarrassed, I stood, tossed a fifty on the counter, and shook my head.
“Sorry, lost track of time. Have a good night.” I hurried away before she could speak again.
Outside, I drew in a deep lungful of air, knowing I had to return to the condo.
The area was quiet, the street almost deserted as I began to cross to the other side. I dug my hand into my pocket for my keys, moving on autopilot. My eyes were unfocused, my head elsewhere, when a yell startled me. I looked up, my response too sluggish to stop what was about to occur.
In slow motion, it happened. A car bore down on me, the headlights blinding. My body froze, waiting for the certain impact of metal against bone. A sudden thrust behind me forced my body to jerk to the side, and briefly, it felt as if I was flying. Then pain exploded in my head, my body screaming from the sudden impact.
Burning, tearing agony ripped through me. There were screams, tires squealing, and running feet. Voices that spoke, but I couldn’t make out the words or if it was me they were directed toward.
Darkness flickered, gradually engulfing me. I fought it—needing something—needing someone.
“Dee,” I breathed out, reaching, searching aimlessly with my hand. “Please.”
But I was alone.
I welcomed the black.
Dee
I RAN. BLINDLY, without thought. I ran to escape.
Maddox’s words echoed in my head.
I can’t stop loving you, Dee.
Then I suppose it’s done.
The devastation on his face. The pain in his eyes. The wetness on his skin. The abrupt, cold tone of his voice.
I had done that.
To him.
To me.
To us.
> I barely made it to my apartment before I fell apart. I slid down the wall, tears streaming down my face unheeded as I sobbed.
For the anguish I caused him.
My cowardice.
My inability to give him the one thing he asked for.
My love.
I crumpled to the carpet, letting my pain wash over me.
I wept until I had no tears left and my head ached. Pushing myself off the floor, I left my purse and jacket where they lay. Stumbling down the hall, I didn’t bother to turn on any lights.
The dim bulbs in the night-lights were all I could stand.
I washed my face and brushed my teeth. Tugged off my clothes and threw on a nightshirt. Left my discarded clothing on the floor.
My bed was cold, my body colder. I drew up the comforter, rolled over, and buried my face into the pillow. Instantly, Maddox’s scent hit me, citrus and fresh ocean air washed over me, making my heart clench.
He stayed the night often lately, another one of our rules smashed.
Without my even realizing it, he had broken them all, one by one. And I allowed it. Slowly, surely, he had become entrenched in my life, until I had forgotten what it was like without him. He was part of my days and my nights.
Texts, calls, dinners. Conversations, advice, support, comfort.
I began to crave his smile, his laughter, his warmth. His body.
Sex with Maddox was unlike anything I had ever experienced before—or would again. He commanded my body, my mind, and my release, driving me to levels of pleasure I didn’t know existed. He did it all with the greatest of care, the sexiest of smirks, and the most indulgent of touches.
I pushed up on my arms, leaning against the headboard when it hit me.
He would never be in my bed again.
He had obliterated the final, absolute rule, and this time, I had refused him.
The tears began again and I gathered his pillow close, weeping into the fabric, until sleep took me.
A short time later, I woke with my eyes feeling like sandpaper and my throat dry and aching. I slid from the bed, padding down the hall to the kitchen. After getting a bottle of water from the fridge, I squinted at the clock. It was four in the morning, but I knew I was done with sleeping. The night had been filled with dreams—images of Maddox. His pain-filled eyes. His arguing. Worse, his pleading.
Maddox: Vested Interest #3 Page 19
