Beautiful Redemption (Maddox Brothers #2)

by Jamie McGuire

  I nearly choked on my fry. “Val, you’re killing me.”

  “He can’t keep his eyes off of you.”

  I shook my head. “Stop.”

  She teased me with a knowing look. “He smiles sometimes when you walk by. I don’t know. It’s kind of cute. I’ve never seen him like this.”

  “Shut up.”

  “So, what about Travis’s wedding?”

  I shrugged. “We’re going to spend the night in Illinois, and then we’ll go to St. Thomas.”

  Val’s grin was contagious.

  I chuckled. “What? Knock it off, Val! It’s work.”

  She threw a fry at me, and then she allowed me to finish my lunch in peace.

  We left Fuzzy’s to head back to the office.

  As we passed Marks’s office, he waved at Val. “Hey! Meet me at Cutter’s tonight,” he said.

  “Tonight?” She shook her head. “No, I have to buy groceries.”

  “Groceries?” he said, making a face. “You don’t cook.”

  “Bread. Salt. Mustard. I have nothing,” she said.

  “Meet me afterward. Maddox is coming.” His eyes floated to me for just a fraction of a second, long enough to make my cheeks flush pink.

  I retreated to my office, not wanting to seem eager to hear of Thomas’s plans. Just as I sat in my throne and woke up my laptop, Sawyer knocked on the partially open door.

  “Bad time?” he asked.

  “Yes,” I said, rolling the mouse. I clicked on the icon for my email and frowned as I read the numerous subject lines. “How in the hell does this happen? I’m gone for an hour, and I have thirty-two new messages.”

  Sawyer shoved his hands into his pockets and leaned against the doorjamb. “We’re needy. There’s an email from me.”

  “Great.”

  “Do you want to go to Cutter’s tonight?”

  “Is that the only bar in the neighborhood?”

  He shrugged, walking toward my desk and falling into a chair. He leaned back, his knees spread and his fingers intertwined at his chest.

  “This isn’t my living room, Agent.”

  “Sorry, ma’am,” he said, sitting up. “Cutter’s is just where we go. It’s close for a lot of us who live in the area.”

  “Why do so many of us live in that area?” I asked.

  He shrugged. “Housing has a good relationship with the property owners. It’s fairly close to the office. It’s a nice neighborhood, and for Midtown, it’s pretty affordable.” He smiled. “There’s a little eatery in Mission Hills called Brooklyn Girl. It’s pretty fantastic. Want to go there?”

  “Where is Mission Hills?”

  “About ten minutes from your condo.”

  I thought about it for a second. “Just food, right? It’s not a date.”

  “God, no—not unless you want to buy me dinner.”

  I chuckled. “No. Okay. Brooklyn Girl at eight thirty.”

  “Boom,” he said, standing.

  “What was that?”

  “I don’t have to eat alone. Pardon me while I celebrate.”

  “Get out of here,” I said, waving him away.

  Sawyer cleared his throat, and then I noticed the door hadn’t closed when it should have. I glanced up to see Thomas standing in the doorway. His short hair was still damp from his post-workout shower.

  “How long have you been standing there?” I asked.

  “Long enough.”

  I barely acknowledged his taunt. “You really should stop hovering in my doorway. It’s creepy.”

  He sighed, shutting the door behind him before approaching my desk. He sat, waiting patiently, while I looked over my emails.

  “Liis.”

  “What?” I said from behind the monitor.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Checking my email, also known as work. You should try it.”

  “You used to call me sir.”

  “You used to make me.” An awkward long silence prompted me to lean over and meet his eyes. “Don’t make me explain.”

  “Explain what?” he asked, genuinely intrigued.

  I looked away, annoyed, and then gave in. “It’s just dinner.”

  “At Brooklyn Girl.”

  “So?”

  “It’s my favorite restaurant. He knows that.”

  “Jesus, Thomas. This is not a pissing match.”

  He considered that for a moment. “Maybe not to you.”

  I shook my head in frustration. “What does that even mean?”

  “Do you remember the night we met?”

  Every bit of my sass and nerve melted away, and I instantly felt the same way I had the first few seconds after he climaxed inside me. The awkwardness put me in my place faster than intimidation ever could.

  “What about it?” I asked, chewing on my thumbnail.

  He hesitated. “Did you mean what you said?”

  “Which part?”

  He stared into my eyes for what seemed like an eternity, planning what he would say next. “That you’re emotionally unavailable.”

  He hadn’t just taken me off guard. All my guards were taken off faster than any other offed guards in the history of offed guards.

  “I don’t know how to answer that,” I said. Well done, Liis!

  “Does that go for everyone or just me?” he asked.

  “Nor that.”

  “I’ve just been…” His expression changed from casually flirty to curious and flirty. “Who’s the SWAT guy you left behind in Chicago?”

  I glanced behind me as if someone who might be hanging on the seventh-floor window could hear. “I’m at work, Thomas. Why the hell are we talking about this now?”

  “We can talk about it over dinner if you’d like.”

  “I have plans,” I said.

  The skin around his eyes tightened. “A date?”

  “No.”

  “If it’s not a date, then Sawyer won’t care.”

  “I’m not canceling on him because you want to win whatever game you’re playing. This is already old. You make me tired.”

  “Then, it’s settled. We’ll discuss your ex-ninja at my favorite restaurant at eight thirty.” He stood.

  “No, we won’t. None of that sounds appealing—at all.”

  He looked around and playfully pointed at his chest.

  “No, you’re not appealing either,” I snapped.

  “You’re a terrible liar for a fed,” Thomas said with a smirk. He walked to my door and opened it.

  “What is with everyone today? Val is acting crazy, and you’re insane…and arrogant, by the way. I just want to come to work, go home, and maybe not eat alone once in a while with whomever the hell I want to, without drama or whining or contests.”

  The whole of Squad Five was staring into my office.

  I gritted my teeth. “Unless you have an update for me, Agent Maddox, please allow me to continue my current task.”

  “Have a good day, Agent Lindy.”

  “Thank you,” I said in a huff.

  Before he closed the door, he poked his head back in. “I was just getting used to you calling me Thomas.”

  “Get out of my office, Thomas.”

  He shut the door, and my cheeks burned bright as an uncontrollable smile spread across my face.

  Miniature rivers rushed down each side of the street, a city’s worth of dirt and debris escaping down the large square drains at each intersection. Tires sloshed in high-pitched tones as they careened down the wet asphalt, and I stood in front of the striped awning and large glass windows that featured Brooklyn Girl in vintage font.

  I couldn’t stop smiling about the fact that I wasn’t saddled with a heavy coat. The low clouds overhead were backlit by the moon, and the sky had spit and poured on San Diego off and on all day, yet there I stood in a sleeveless white blouse, a coral linen blazer, and skinny jeans with sandals. I’d wanted to wear my suede slingback heels, but I hadn’t wanted to chance getting them wet.

  “Hey,” Saw
yer said into my ear.

  I turned and smiled, elbowing him.

  “I got us a table,” Thomas said, breezing past us and opening the door. “Three, right?”

  Sawyer looked like he’d swallowed his tongue.

  Thomas’s eyebrows lifted. “Well? Let’s eat. I’m starved.”

  Sawyer and I traded glances, and I walked in first, followed by Sawyer.

  Thomas shoved his hands into his pockets as he stood at the hostess’s podium.

  “Thomas Maddox,” the young woman said, a sparkle in her eye. “It’s been a long time.”

  “Hi, Kasie. Table for three, please.”

  “Right this way.” Kasie smiled, taking three menus and leading us to a corner booth.

  Sawyer sat first near the wall, and I sat in the chair next to him, leaving Thomas to sit across from us. Both men looked happy with the arrangement at first, but Thomas’s eyebrows pulled together when Sawyer scooted his chair a bit closer to mine.

  I suspiciously eyed him. “I thought this was your favorite restaurant?”

  “It is,” Thomas said.

  “She said you haven’t been in here in a long time.”

  “Nope.”

  “Why?” I asked.

  “Didn’t you used to bring your girl here?” Sawyer asked.

  Thomas lowered his chin and glowered at Sawyer, but when Thomas’s eyes met mine, his features softened. He looked down, situating his silverware and napkin. “The last time I came here was with her.”

  “Oh,” I said, my mouth suddenly dry.

  A young waitress approached our table with a smile. “Hi, guys.”

  Sawyer looked up at her with a familiar gleam in his eye. “Someone’s got a date after work. I’m jealous.”

  Tessa blushed. “New lipstick.”

  “I knew it was something.” Sawyer’s eyes lingered on her a big longer before he looked down at the menu.

  Thomas rolled his eyes, ordered a bottle of wine without looking at the list, and then she was gone again.

  “So,” Sawyer said, turning his entire body toward me, “did you figure out the painting?”

  “No,” I said with a quiet laugh, shaking my head. “I don’t know why it’s so heavy. It’s still propped against the wall where I want to hang it.”

  “So weird there’s not a stud anywhere along that wall,” Sawyer said, desperately trying not to seem nervous.

  Thomas shifted in his seat. “I have anchors. How heavy is it?”

  “Too heavy for the drywall, but I think an anchor would work,” I said.

  Thomas shrugged, looking far more comfortable with the situation than Sawyer or me. “I’ll bring one down later.”

  From my peripheral, I saw the smallest movement in Sawyer’s jaw. Thomas had just secured time alone with me later. I wasn’t sure if other women enjoyed being in this position, but I was borderline miserable.

  Tessa returned with a bottle and three glasses.

  As she poured, Sawyer winked at her. “Thanks, sweetheart.”

  “You’re welcome, Sawyer.” She could barely contain her glee as she teetered on the heels of her feet. “Uh, have you decided on an appetizer?”

  “The roasted stuffed marrow,” Thomas said, making a point not to take his eyes off of me.

  The intensity of his stare made me squirm, but I didn’t look away. On the outside at least, I wanted to seem impervious.

  “I’ll just have the hummus,” Sawyer said, looking disgusted at Thomas’s choice.

  Tessa turned on her heels, and Sawyer watched her walk all the way back to the kitchen.

  “Excuse me,” Sawyer said, motioning that he needed out of the booth.

  “Oh.” I scooted over and stood, letting him get out.

  He walked by me with a smile and then toward what I assumed was the restroom, past the gray walls and modern rustic wall art.

  Thomas smiled as I returned to my seat. The air conditioner kicked on, and I pulled my blazer tighter around me.

  “Would you like my jacket?” Thomas said, offering his blazer. It perfectly matched the walls. He also wore jeans and laced brown leather Timberland boots.

  I shook my head. “I’m not that cold.”

  “You just don’t want to be wearing my jacket when Sawyer comes out of the restroom. But he won’t notice because he’ll be chatting it up with Tessa.”

  “What Sawyer thinks or feels doesn’t concern me.”

  “Then, why are you here with him?” His tone wasn’t accusatory. In fact, it was so unlike his usual demanding loud voice that his words nearly blended into the hum of the AC.

  “I’m not sitting across from him. At the moment, I’m here with you.”

  The corners of his mouth turned up. He seemed to like that, and I inwardly cursed myself for the way that made me feel.

  “I like this place,” I said, glancing around. “It sort of reminds me of you.”

  “I used to love this place,” Thomas said.

  “But not anymore. Because of her?”

  “My last memory of this place is also my last memory of her. I don’t count the airport.”

  “So, she left you.”

  “Yes. I thought we were going to talk about your ex, not mine.”

  “Did she leave you for your brother?” I asked, ignoring him.

  His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, and he glanced toward the restrooms, looking for Sawyer. As predicted, Sawyer was standing at the end of the counter near the drink station, making Tessa giggle.

  “Yeah,” Thomas said. He puffed, like something had knocked the breath out of him. “But she wasn’t mine to begin with. Camille has always belonged to Trent.”

  I shook my head and furrowed my brow. “Why do that to yourself?”

  “It’s hard to explain. Trent has loved her since we were kids. I knew it.”

  His confession surprised me. From what I knew of his childhood and his feelings toward his brothers, it was hard to imagine Thomas pulling something so heartless.

  “But you pursued her anyway. I just don’t understand why.”

  His shoulders moved up just a tiny bit. “I love her, too.”

  Present tense. A tinge of jealousy twinged in my chest.

  “I didn’t mean to,” Thomas said. “I used to go home quite a bit, mostly to see her. She works at the local bar. One night, I went straight to The Red and sat down in front of her station, and then it just hit me. She wasn’t a little girl in pigtails anymore. She was all grown-up and smiling at me.

  “Trent talked about Camille all the time, but in a way—to me, at least—I never thought he’d go for it. For the longest time, I thought he’d never settle down. Then, he started seeing this other girl…Mackenzie. That’s when I decided he was past his crush on Camille. But pretty quickly after that, there was an accident, and Mackenzie died.”

  I sucked in a tiny sharp breath.

  Thomas acknowledged my shock with a nod and continued, “Trent wasn’t the same after that. He drank a lot, slept with whomever, and left school. One weekend, I came home to check on him and Dad, and then I went to the bar. She was there.” He winced. “I tried not to.”

  “But you did.”

  “I reasoned that he didn’t deserve her. It’s the second most selfish thing I’ve ever done, and both of them were to my brothers.”

  “But Trent and Camille ended up together?”

  “I work a lot. She’s there. He’s there. It was bound to happen once Trent decided to chase her. I couldn’t really protest. He loved her first.”

  The sad look in his eyes made my chest ache. “Does she know what you do?”

  “Yes.”

  I arched an eyebrow. “You told her who you work for but not your family?”

  Thomas thought about my words and shifted in his seat. “She won’t tell them. She promised she wouldn’t.”

  “So, she’s lying to all of them?”

  “She’s omitting.”

  “To Trent as well?”

  “H
e knows we were seeing each other. He thinks we were keeping it a secret from him because of the way he felt about Camille. He still doesn’t know about the Bureau.”

  “Do you trust her not to tell him?”

  “Yes,” he said without hesitation. “I asked her to keep quiet about the fact that we were dating. For months, no one knew but her roommate and a few of her coworkers.”

  “It’s true, isn’t it? You didn’t want your brother to know you had stolen her,” I said, smug.

  His face twisted, disgusted at my lack of finesse. “In part. I also didn’t want Dad poking her for information. She would have had to lie. It would have just made things more difficult than they already were.”

  “She had to lie anyway.”

  “I know. It was stupid. I acted on a temporary feeling, and it turned into something more. I put everyone in a bad position. I was a selfish dick. But I did…I do…love her. Trust me, I’m getting payback.”

  “She’s going to be at the wedding, isn’t she?”

  “Yeah,” he said, twisting his napkin.

  “With Trent.”

  “They’re still together. They live together.”

  “Oh,” I said, surprised. “And that has nothing to do with why you want me to go?”

  “Polanski wants you to go.”

  “You don’t?”

  “Not because I’m trying to make Camille jealous, if that’s what you’re getting at. They love each other. She’s in my past.”

  “Is she?” I asked before I could stop myself. I braced for his reply.

  He looked at me for a long time. “Why?”

  I swallowed. That is the real question, isn’t it? Why do I want to know? I cleared my throat, chuckling nervously. “I don’t know why. I just want to know.”

  He breathed a laugh and looked down. “You can love someone without wanting to be with them. Just like you can want to be with someone before you love them.”

  He looked up at me, a spark in his eye.

  From my peripheral, I saw that Sawyer was standing next to our table, waiting with Tessa, who had a tray in her hand.

  Thomas didn’t look away from me, and I couldn’t look away from him.

  “Can I, uh…excuse me,” Sawyer said.