by Sheila Kell
Things were about to be tense between them, but she’d persevere. Maybe she could convince Matt to take his place instead of working at night. Then, it’d be like seeing Brad every time she glanced at him. That wouldn’t work either. She was just fucked until they figured out this threat against her. Maybe she could help them bring Casden and Rogers down. That’s what she needed to do. Now, to get Brad to agree.
BRAD’S TEMPER STILL soared as they pulled up at Devon and Rylee’s home. Madison had wanted to visit her sister once more before Rylee’s trip, which began the next day. They’d stopped for lunch, and not a word had been said between them. That’d been the hardest burger to swallow.
Ken, being a witness to what had happened—minus Madison’s blow up—seemed to understand the tension in the air and kept Sam quiet as they all had dined together instead of Ken and Sam at another table like normal. He’d wanted them closer to Madison just in case those two thugs decided to follow them. Madison may not worry about them, but he did. Someone had tried to kill them, and he didn’t trust Casden and Rogers.
She hadn’t said anything about everyone eating together, but her body language told him she didn’t agree or didn’t understand. She’d never be so rude as to ask to eat separately, but it must’ve added to her ire.
Slamming the SUV door like a petulant child, Brad followed Madison inside the brick home to a screaming child, who was teething, and two tired-looking parents.
A good reason not to have kids, he decided. He liked his eardrums intact and his sleep only interrupted by a beautiful woman reaching for him.
After settling Mitch to sleep, Devon invited Brad to go on a run with him. Brad knew it was a ruse to speak with him privately, especially when his brother had said they’d only be running a mile so they wouldn’t be gone long. With Ken and Sam there to protect Madison, he agreed. He trusted Rylee could take care of herself. Plus, he needed to get away from Madison for a bit.
After changing into shorts from a small duffel bag in the SUV that held his workout clothing, they headed out. About a quarter mile from the house, Devon said, “Spill it.”
Acting as if he had no idea what his brother spoke about, he responded, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Matt was who he talked to about things, like what was happening in his life, and he wasn’t sure he’d even speak to him about a woman. Yet he’d told Matt about his first night with Madison. Not the particulars, but that he’d slept with her at the wedding reception.
“Madison looks pissed off, which means you did something.”
They turned right down another road, following the sidewalk. The suburban neighborhood had similar style A-frame houses with trim-cut, medium-sized yards, most sporting swing sets in the back of their fenced yards.
He may as well tell his brother. Madison would most likely tell Rylee. Then her sister would tell Devon, and who knew how much the story would have morphed by then, and he’d be the bad guy all around. Besides, his brother would understand and be on his side. Madison just didn’t get it.
Brad cleared his throat and said, “Yeah, I pissed off Madison, but she’s wrong.”
Devon laughed. “When are you going to learn women are never wrong?”
He did a double take with his brother. “The fuck they aren’t.”
“Wait until you find that one woman and marry her. Believe me, no matter what, she’s never wrong. Even when she technically is.”
That made no fucking sense to him, so he left it. “Well, we were at the club and the fuckers Casden and Rogers showed up.”
“Fuck.”
“Yeah,” Brad said. “Anyhow, I put her behind me and wouldn’t let them near her. She didn’t like it.”
“That doesn’t sound bad,” Devon said, not even sounding winded. “If that’s all, she is wrong, but you still don’t tell her. You two talk and compromise if you have to until you can live with it and she’s happy.”
“There’s more.”
“Uh-oh. Something tells me this is why she’s angry.”
He took a deep breath and then spoke. “Well, I also wouldn’t let them speak to her. I spoke for her and told them to leave. I also told them she wasn’t interested in the deal they brought her.”
“Are you some kind of idiot?” Then, “Turn left here.”
Being on the left, he led the way. “What do you mean? She needed to be as far away from that scum as possible, and if they’d started talking with her, she wouldn’t have been able to stop when it was necessary. She’s all heart and wouldn’t be rude.”
“Like you?” Devon chuckled.
He didn’t take it as a slight since it was true. “Yeah, like me. Anyway, she said she refused to have a relationship with anyone who would act like an overprotective alpha on her.” Didn’t all women want an alpha? He fully admitted he was. There was no reason to act or react differently. That wouldn’t change about him. And he was protective of those he cared about. She could call it overprotective if she wanted. It had needed to be done.
It took him a moment to realize Devon had stopped. He walked back to his brother, and before he could ask if he was okay, Devon asked, “Relationship?”
Shit. He hadn’t meant to share that part. Well, fuck. Madison would probably tell Rylee that part too, so he’d best set the record straight. “Yeah. This morning, we started dating each other.” It sounded odd to say those words, yet in relation to Madison, they just felt right.
Devon looked at him as if he’d lost his mind. “What the fuck are you doing, Brad? This is not some woman to fuck around with. This is my sister-in-law.”
Standing in the middle of the empty sidewalk, they had this conversation. One he had hoped to have with no one, not even his twin. “I like her. This morning I asked her, and she said yes.”
“Are you just fucking around? I mean, I haven’t known you to admit to dating anyone, but is this for real?” Devon asked, his jaw clenched.
He thought for a moment, knowing what Devon’s “for real” meant. Was he serious about Madison? They barely knew each other, even though he felt like he knew everything about her. He wanted to be near her, share his day with her, talk about the intimate things couples do, and be in her arms and her bed.
“I’m not in love with her, if that’s what you’re asking. We’re just getting to know each other.”
“Look, I know you slept together in Vegas.” At Brad’s sharp look, he added, “I saw Madison leave your room. She didn’t look happy then, and she doesn’t look happy today after you claim you two came to an understanding. You can’t treat her like every other woman you’ve met. Not if you care for her.”
He did care for her. More than he’d admit, even to himself. “I don’t see why. Either she likes me as I am or she doesn’t.”
Devon gave him a frustrated look. “Let’s finish this run.”
They set a comfortable pace, and it was about one-tenth of a mile before Devon broke the silence. “You’re not who you were before you left the Secret Service. That man might not appeal to someone like Madison, but the old Brad would be great with her.”
What. The. Fuck?
“You need to drop the anger, and doing that hypnotherapy might be just the thing to help you.”
He chewed on that, unsure how to respond. Had he really been that different? He’d known he held a great deal inside him and his temper was shorter than it used to be before the incident in Columbia.
“No matter what you find, I think it’ll help you. You’ve been holding this anger at the world, and it’s the not knowing what happened that’s the real issue. Go. Find out.”
“You and Rylee didn’t do it,” he shot back, trying to steer the conversation away from him.
“We decided we didn’t need it. Our lives came together in the Colorado mountains, and that’s how we want to remember it.”
“You’re just going to let it go?”
“We are. It’s not holding us back like it’s holding you back. We don’t need it to figure out our live
s. We fell in love and got married, twice. Once is all that matters to us.”
They went straight past the point they’d initially turned right and continued straight on, nearing the house. “Madison said I should try it,” Brad added.
Devon stumbled and righted himself. “You discussed the particulars of the situation with her?”
He had. He’d opened up to her. A little offset at how light that revelation made him feel, he just grunted his response.
“Is there a reason you don’t want to try it?” Devon asked when his brother’s home came into sight.
“None I want to discuss,” Brad said gruffly.
“Fair enough. I’m always here if you decide you want to discuss it or anything.”
Brad rolled his eyes. “Thanks, big bro.”
Devon chuckled. “Usually it’s Jesse who’s called that.”
“Well, you’ve been acting like him.”
“Okay. Then I’m going to be my big brother and give you some advice. You go in there and apologize to Madison for being a jerk.”
“But it was necessary,” Brad sputtered, like a child losing an argument.
“Necessary or not, you apologize if you want her back.”
This relationship crap was more complicated than he’d figured. Why should he apologize when he wasn’t wrong? She just didn’t understand. If she did, she’d have thanked him.
“Most importantly—you don’t do it again.”
They stopped in the front yard and stretched. He couldn’t promise he wouldn’t do it again. Her protection was first and foremost in everything he did.
After confirming with Ken all was well, they entered the house, and Brad received a cold shoulder from Madison as Devon kissed Rylee. Hell, he’d have to apologize even though he wasn’t wrong. Would she see it? No time like the present.
“Maddie, can I speak with you in the kitchen for a minute?”
She nodded once and led the way to the kitchen where she spun around to him, but didn’t say a word.
God, she was beautiful, even when it was obvious she was angry.
“Look”—he rubbed his hand up and down his sweaty neck—“I’m sorry.” There, he’d said it. Now it would be over and she’d be back in his arms.
“Sorry for what?”
Fuck. He didn’t expect questions about this. She should’ve just accepted his apology and been done with it.
“Um… whatever I did to upset you.”
When her face got red and her jaw tightened, he realized he’d said the wrong thing. But how was that possible?
“What exactly was it you did?”
Son of a bitch. He was going to kill Devon for this. He’d made it sound so simple. This was far from simple. He felt like he was digging himself a hole, and it was getting deeper with each word he spoke.
“For what I did at the club.”
“You mean the hiding me and speaking for me?”
He winced. “Yeah.”
She licked her lips, and his gaze fastened there. She hadn’t done it to be sensual, but it was all the same. If only he could kiss her. They were good together like that.
“Are you really sorry?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest.
Shit. He couldn’t keep this up. Devon was wrong. Had to be. He couldn’t lie to Madison about how he felt. He didn’t feel one bit sorry for how things had gone down at the club. “No,” he said softly. “I’m not.”
“Then why did you apologize?”
“Devon said I should if I wanted to keep the peace between us.”
The corner of her mouth ticked up. “He did. And do you always do what your brothers tell you?”
“Hell no. Except when we’re working. But I’ve never been in a relationship before and had no idea how to handle our situation.”
“Let me set you straight. With me, only apologize when you mean it.”
Okay, he was definitely going to kick Devon’s ass for that relationship advice. “Gotcha. Are we okay?” he prodded, hoping they were because he couldn’t deal with all this bullshit of figuring out a woman’s mind.
“No.”
Stunned, his heart sank. He thought his bit of honesty would’ve broken through the anger she held.
“You still treated me terribly. I’m not ready to get over it. Probably not until you realize what you did was too much. Protecting me is one thing. Not letting me speak and treating me like you did was another.”
Well, fuck. They were at a standstill because he wouldn’t be sorry and he’d do it again—in a heartbeat.
DAMN, SHE HELD her anger for a long time. Couldn’t she just get over it like men did? Why did women hang onto asinine things for so long? That was part of the reason he’d never allowed himself to get too entangled with a woman. Emotions and drama. He worked better with lust being the only emotion flowing between him and a woman. Yet something about Madison flowed within him, and while he’d yet to identify it, he couldn’t dismiss it.
Winding the spaghetti they’d added as a side to their chicken parmesan around his fork, he bit the bullet and asked the one question that could possibly make her angrier. He probably would start World War III, but he had to get this over with before he went insane himself. He wanted her in his bed that night. And many nights after. So he opened his mouth and asked, “Are you still mad?”
Her fork paused halfway to her mouth with piece of breaded chicken breast on it. “Are you sorry for what you did?”
He squirmed as if he’d been put under a bright spotlight. Hell no, he wasn’t sorry. Why couldn’t she understand he did it to protect her? Although the more he thought about it, he saw her point on speaking for her even though she would’ve had trouble getting rid of them like he had. “I think I was wrong speaking for you.”
“Think?”
Ignoring that, he hurriedly added, “But I’m not sorry for protecting you from them.” He shoved the spaghetti, dripping with marinara sauce, into his mouth to keep him from saying something else that would screw him worse than he already was.
Madison set down her fork on her plate and gave him her full attention. He saw the bright flashing sign that said he was fucked.
“You think you were wrong or you know?”
Ah hell. No man liked to admit he was wrong. Part of him still didn’t believe he’d been wrong, but if it bothered her so severely, he’d done something wrong. Keeping her happy should be what he was about. Safe and happy.
“I guess”—he toyed with the spaghetti on his plate—“that I could’ve allowed you to talk with them. Only,” Brad added quickly, “I worried you’d be too nice and we’d end up sitting down with them or something. I couldn’t allow that to happen.”
“Why not?”
He looked up at her. “Have you forgotten the car accident so quickly?”
“No, I haven’t. But I don’t see what those men could’ve done in broad daylight with you and Ken there protecting me. Plus there were workers in the club.”
He dropped his fork and rubbed the back of his neck in agitation. Leave it to her to make sense of the situation. “You’ve got a point there.”
With one eyebrow cocked, she probed, “Have I?”
Shifting in his seat again, he grimaced. This apology thing was damn hard. “Okay, I was wrong. But,” Brad pointed out, “only for speaking for you.”
Madison smiled brightly as if she’d just won a prize. “I can accept that.”
A whoosh of air released from his lungs in relief. “Does this mean you aren’t mad any longer?”
“Oh, I’m still a bit upset of the whole alpha-male thing, but I know you did it in my best interest. But no, I’m no longer mad about the incident as far as it matters.”
“Thank God. Does this mean you’ll be back in my bed tonight?”
“About that—”
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Could he not catch a break? “About that what?”
“I have a request. No, a demand.”
What the hell? Women didn’t make deman
ds of him. In the bedroom, he was in charge. But he was curious about whatever it was she wanted. “Go on.”
Her face went pink, and she had a difficult time holding his gaze. “I want to—to tie you up this time.”
He might’ve stopped breathing for a moment at the audacity of the question. Tie him up? That was an easy answer. Hell no. Even his twin—the gentler of the two—wouldn’t become a submissive in bed. Hamilton men didn’t do it as far as he knew. “No,” he said firmly, thinking that cursing with it might make the matter worse.
Crossing her arms over her chest, she seemed to have regained her pluck. “Well then, I won’t be in your bed.”
He wanted to bang his head against the table, dinner plates and all. Women. How the hell did his brothers live with them? Did they always get their way by holding back on their favors? If he ever had a wife, he wouldn’t tolerate that behavior. And, if he lived in a cave, that attitude would be okay. Since he didn’t, he had to be realistic and keep his inner caveman hidden.
Brad tried to remember back to when he’d first tied a woman’s hands. It had been in high school with Peggy Bell where she wouldn’t keep her hands off him and almost made him come before they got completely naked together. Plus, she’d left awful marks on his back that had scabbed and been a running joke in the locker room.
Yeah, it was after that he began tying his lover’s hands to keep them at bay, and he’d found he liked the control and hadn’t stopped. That’d been for what, thirteen or fourteen years? And she wanted him to just change. To give up control? She’d lost her fucking mind.
But he needed her in his bed. Needed her by his side. Always. That thought set him back a mile. Always was it? No. That must be his loneliness talking because he’d never thought that of anyone before. He couldn’t love her, could he? No. Definitely not. But, he did like the hell out of her.
Her firm setting told him she wasn’t going to budge on this issue. So, if he wanted her in his bed, he needed to bend. Hell, couldn’t he just buy her flowers, chocolate, or some shit? Wasn’t that how you made up to a woman?
