Ridden (Scandalous Moves Book 3)

by Deborah Grace Staley

  “Likewise,” Alayna said. When he was safely outside, she turned to Maddie and said, “Holy hotness! Please tell me he has a brother, and that I can stay to help you with whatever project you have going here. Hell, he doesn’t have to have a brother. A friend just like him would do. Oh—my—”

  “Alayna,” Maddie interrupted. “It’s not what you think.”

  Her assistant came away from the door and parked Maddie’s rolling suitcase near the sofa. “Please tell me it’s dirtier. Wait, no. That’s not possible, because what I was thinking is positively filthy. Was that his motorcycle out front?”

  “He’s an old friend from high school who’s helping me out,” Maddie began.

  “I’m calling bullshit.”

  Alayna had been Maddie’s assistant, and the closest thing she had to a best friend, for more than a decade, and that was the only reason she could get away with speaking her mind at will. “I should fire you for impertinence,” Maddie said before she flopped into the comfy rocker she’d so loved as a child.

  Alyana just laughed as she sat on the sofa. “You wouldn’t make it a day without me.”

  “Oh right. That’s why I keep you around.”

  “That and because I know where the bodies are buried.”

  “That, too,” Maddie said, and they both laughed.

  Alayna took in the shabby room where they sat. “I must say, you look like a hot house flower in a run-down barn.”

  Maddie tried to see the room through her friend’s eyes, but even though it was cozy and old-fashioned, it felt like home to her. “I think my mom was a little girl the last time it was updated.”

  “Clearly. What are you doing here besides the hot guy who just left?”

  Ignoring that, Maddie said, “My parents decided to let me know this place had been deeded to me on their way out of town. So, I’m here trying to get it ready to sell.”

  “You?” That one word conveyed a wealth of disbelief. “You’re doing it yourself?”

  “I’m familiar with manual labor,” Maddie said.

  “Of course you are.” Alayna huffed and waved a hand. “Now what’s the real reason you’re here, Madeline?”

  “I practically grew up in this house.” She shrugged. “I wanted to see it one more time.”

  Alayna stood and walked around the room, then she looked in the kitchen to the water view through the windows there. “It has good bones. You could remodel, take out some of the walls to capitalize on the view, and use it as a getaway.”

  “No.” Alayna turned back to Maddie, clearly surprised at the conviction in that one word. “I can’t be here. When I left Hidden Harbor, I never intended to come back.”

  “Because of your children’s father,” Alayna said, cutting through to the heart of the matter.

  “Yes.”

  “Huh.”

  “What?”

  “You’re still giving him your power then?”

  Maddie stood. “Hell, no.”

  “Hell, yes,” Alayna countered. “You’ve stayed away for nearly twenty years because you still can’t face him.”

  “New York is my home,” Maddie countered, angry.

  “And yet you’re here because you couldn’t let this place go. It means something to you.”

  Maddie picked up a ballerina figurine. Her grandmother had bought it after Maddie’s first recital. “It’s just nostalgia.” She set the dusty statue back on the shelf cluttered with knickknacks, each with its own story—pieces of her childhood. The one she’d lost in the boathouse.

  Alayna gently touched her arm. “He can’t hurt you anymore,” she said softly.

  Maddie squeezed her friend’s hand. “I know.”

  Alayna rested her chin on Maddie’s shoulder. “Make sure he knows that before you leave town this time. Then the choice of coming back will be yours alone.”

  Maddie tipped her head toward Alayna. “I’m not about to search out my ex.”

  “Oh, God, no.” Alayna straightened and examined the contents of the shelves with Maddie. “But if you should wind up in the same place as him, and while there, make him eat his heart out, where’s the harm?”

  Maddie shook her head. “You’re crazy.”

  “But you love me.”

  Maddie sighed. “I do.”

  “I’m out.” Alayna made for the door. “Hot date tonight.” She turned before leaving. “Not as hot as yours, but definitely a good lay.”

  “One day you’ll meet someone who’s more than just a sex toy,” Maddie predicted.

  “But I plan on enjoying as many well-endowed frogs as possible until that day comes.” Alayna gave Maddie a finger wave. “Take as long as you need here. We’ll miss you at the office, but we can manage.”

  Maddie followed her assistant outside. “Call if you need anything.” She waved at the driver as he held the door for Alayna.

  “I won’t,” Alayna said before disappearing into the dark sedan. Seconds later, the car pulled away. Back inside, Maddie sorted through the clothes in the suitcase as she considered Alayna’s advice. She shook out a pair of jeans and then a soft, white sweater. Her kickass boots were tucked into the bottom, and Maddie smiled. What if she did run into Billy Ray? She hadn’t seen him in years, but she’d made peace with that. When the kids had been younger, they’d struggled, but as they got older, they’d become accustomed to the way things were and stopped questioning it.

  She shrugged off her thoughts and turned on the shower. As she undressed, she consciously determined not to project. It wasn’t likely she’d run into Billy Ray. But if she did, she’d handle it like she did everything else. With the grace and sophistication she’d worked a lifetime to cultivate. He couldn’t hurt her now. She was a different person. Maybe he was, too.

  “You seem distracted.”

  A.J. watched Maddie sip her wine and scan the room again, like she was looking for someone. He wasn’t stupid. He knew what—or who—was on her mind. “When was the last time you saw him?”

  Maddie set her glass down, her attention squarely on A.J. now. “Who?”

  A.J. laughed. “You don’t play dumb well, Maddie.”

  Her eyelids lowered over her expressive eyes. “Not since I left.”

  A.J. ducked his head in an attempt to make eye contact. “What about your kids?”

  “He never saw them.”

  “Bastard,” A.J. muttered.

  Maddie lifted her wine glass in a toast. “Yep.” She sipped the red wine then added, “I picked a piss-poor sperm donor. They deserved better.”

  He touched her hand, and when she tried to pull away, he held on. “You say that like it’s your fault he’s a jackass.”

  “I had a clue before I said, ‘I do’.”

  “Jesus, Maddie. You were eighteen.”

  She shrugged and focused on the couples dancing. “I never found that a valid excuse when I had to console my children who didn’t understand why their father deserted them.”

  “He’s still in town,” A.J. said. “Living in the same house.”

  “I know.”

  A.J. nodded. “Of course you’d know where he lives. He had to pay child support.”

  “Wrong again.” Maddie drained her wine and signaled the waiter for another.

  A.J. got quiet then. What kind of man not only abandoned his children physically, but financially as well? “Son of a bitch,” he mumbled. Maddie looked tense, despite the wine. Like she was about to come out of her skin. “Dance with me.” A.J. said. He stood and tugged her hand, but she didn’t budge. He wanted to hold her. Needed to. “Please,” he added softly. He brushed his thumb across her wrist and felt her rapid pulse. He just stood there, waiting, holding her gaze. She took a deep breath, and her shoulders dropped just before she stood.

  When they were on the dance floor and he had her in his arms, he put his lips on her ear and inhaled her sweet scent. He wanted to chase all thoughts of her ex out of her head.

  She rubbed her check against his. “I’m sorry,”
she whispered, and he held her closer, barely moving as the singer sang a seductive ballad.

  “Don’t be.” He kissed her neck, loving the taste and feel of her. “You deserved better, Maddie.”

  She squeezed his hand. “Thank you.”

  If this strong, incredible, sexy woman had been the mother of his children, he’d have laid the world at her feet and worshipped her. The thought alone should have scared the shit out of him, but an image bloomed in his mind instead—one of Maddie when they were younger, her stomach rounded with his child growing inside her, eyes soft with love as she looked up at him. He rested his forehead on hers, shaken. She trailed soft fingertips down his cheek, and then he felt her lips on his. After several languid moments of exploration, she’d worked her arm inside his jacket and molded her body to his.

  “Take me home,” she said.

  Yeah. He needed her, too. Wanted to show her how much, all night long.

  “I need to visit the restroom first,” she said.

  “I’ll take care of the bill and wait for you by the door.”

  Maddie moved through the dancers to the restroom, the buzz of the wine made her feel mellow; but thoughts of another night in A.J.’s arms left her feeling excited. When she’d finished in the restroom, she washed. The door opened as she was touching up her lipstick. Maddie dropped the lipstick in her purse before she turned.

  “Hello, Maddie,” Billy Ray said, then locked the door.

  9

  “What the hell?” Maddie said. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  He took a step toward her. “Getting some alone time with you, away from that dude. I been watching you since you came in, but you only saw him.”

  She held up her hand, and Billy Ray surprised her by stopping. “Why are you here?”

  The years hadn’t been kind to him. He’d put on at least fifty pounds and his long, mostly gray hair was pulled back into that same ponytail she remembered.

  “I might not be good enough for coming here, but I’m good enough to wash the dishes.”

  Maddie took a step to the side, but Billy Ray came with her, standing squarely between her and the door.

  “Get out of my way.”

  “I figure we got us some talking to do.”

  “Really? After twenty years of no contact whatsoever with me or your children, you think I have anything to say to you?”

  “Aw, careful now. Somebody might think you missed me.”

  “You’re delusional.” She held her purse to her abdomen. It wasn’t much of a barrier, but it was something. Billy Ray rubbed the goatee on his sagging chin. Dear God, how had she ever thought him attractive?

  “You always did like your big words.” The way he looked at her felt like a violation. “Mmm . . . You’re even hotter now than you were when you were eighteen.”

  “I can’t say the same for you.” She took a step forward intending to move around him, but he grabbed her. Maddie shuddered at the contact. Memories flooded her as his hands tightened painfully on her upper arms. “Let go,” she said calmly, though the images going through her mind were anything but. Images of Billy Ray slamming her into a wall. Of Billy Ray shaking her until her teeth felt like they’d shatter. Of Billy Ray pressing her into the bed and forcing himself on her.

  “I feel you trembling, babe.” His breath smelled strongly of beer and cigarettes. “You know you want it bad.”

  Maddie smiled just before she slammed her elbow into his nose. When Billy Ray’s head went back, she kneed him hard, and he doubled over, howling in pain. Blood from his nose stained his shirt and pooled on the floor. She shoved him out of the way and he fell, right in front of the door, blocking it. So she did the only thing she could. She unlocked it and stepped on him with her stilettos.

  A.J. was waiting in the hallway. “I was just coming to check on you. You were in there a while.”

  “Let’s go,” she said, and tried to move past him, but he held her up.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Maddie was pretty much over big men trying to control her movement at this point. “Get out of my way,” she said firmly.

  A.J. tilted his head toward the Ladies Room, hearing Billy Ray’s moans. “What is that? Is someone hurt?”

  Maddie took A.J.’s hand. “Let’s go. Now.” She enunciated the words to clearly convey her meaning.

  “There’s blood on your sweater,” A.J. pointed out. Still not moving.

  “Suit yourself,” she said, and made her way to the exit.

  Outside, she dragged in several gulps of cool, night air, trying to slow her racing pulse. She dug in her bag for her cell to call a cab.

  “Maddie,” A.J. called out from somewhere behind her.

  She didn’t stop until she’d reached the edge of the parking lot. Her hands were shaking, which made it difficult to look up the number for a cab service, so she decided to walk. Her boots pinched and she’d probably have blisters, but she didn’t care.

  The footsteps behind her grew louder. “Maddie,” A.J. said, and snagged her arm to make her stop.

  Maddie wrenched her arm out of his grasp and glared at him, her breath still labored. A.J. held up his hands.

  “Hey, it’s me,” he said softly.

  Maddie dragged a hand through her hair and turned away, but didn’t move. When she looked back at A.J., the concern on his face got through. “I’m sorry,” she tried to say, but the last word didn’t make it all the way out because her breathing was still irregular. She shook her hands and willed herself to calm down.

  “It’s okay,” A.J. said softly. He held out his hand. “Let me take you home.”

  She shook her head. “No. I don’t want to go there.”

  “Okay,” he said. “Then let me just get you out of here.”

  Maddie focused on his outstretched hand. She took a deep breath, then put her hand in his.

  A.J. led Maddie back to his truck, opened the door, and helped her up into the cab. He jogged around to the driver’s side, slid behind the wheel, and got them moving. Out on the highway, he glanced over at Maddie. She looked pale and shaken. Presently, she was mangling the strap of her purse.

  Without much thought, he drove her to his place. He killed the engine and just sat there, waiting, giving Maddie time. Hell, he’d sit there all night if that’s what she needed.

  “I guess you want an explanation,” she finally said.

  “No. I’m good.” She cut her eyes to his, clearly surprised.

  She smiled. And then half-laughed before the full laugh came. A.J. smiled, too, staring at her. She was scaring the hell out of him, but he wouldn’t show it. He knew she didn’t need to deal with his emotion. She had enough of her own to process.

  It belatedly occurred to him that he didn’t bring women home—ever, but Maddie had been here twice now. That was okay, because what they had wasn’t long-term. She was just passing through his life. She’d be back in New York soon. Back to the noise, the people, and the skyscrapers that shut out the sky. A.J. rotated his neck to release the tension there. It didn’t help.

  “Would you like to come in?” he asked.

  “Sure.”

  Maddie opened the door and got out. A.J. met her at the front of his truck. With a hand on the base of her back, he guided her to the front door, opened it, and followed her inside.

  A lamp in the living room cast a glow over the simply furnished space. He wondered how she viewed the comfortable leather seating, low wooden tables, and soft rug. He found the room inviting, but she probably was used to modern design and clean lines with high-up views of the city.

  She set her purse on a table, shrugged out of her jacket, then pulled her soiled sweater off and dropped it on the floor. She moved around the room wearing just a shiny, pink camisole and skin-tight jeans. At the fireplace, she looked at the bare mantel, rubbing her arms—holding herself close.

  “I laid a fire earlier,” he said and joined her. He lit a long match, then set it against the kindling. The flame
s soon licked at the dry logs. Maddie stared at it, but didn’t speak. A.J. got that. Sometimes he needed to be alone with his thoughts, too.

  He took off his jacket, hung it on the hall tree, then sat and waited. The glow of the fire highlighted the beauty of her skin and set her red hair ablaze. Looking at her was easy. The emotions she stirred in him, however, were tangled and complicated.

  “I guess you’re wondering what happened back there,” she said.

  When A.J. didn’t speak, she turned and looked at him. Emotion darkened her eyes. “Something’s upset you, so the guy in me wants to fix it. But I know it doesn’t necessarily work that way.”

  She walked over to where he sat, stopping in front of him. He held out his hand. When she gave him hers, he pulled her down. After she’d settled into his lap, she unzipped her boots and tossed them onto the floor, then tucked her feet under his thigh. She curved a hand around his neck and watched him, a small frown furrowing her brow.

  “What does A.J. stand for?”

  He didn’t know what he’d expected her to say, but it wasn’t that. “Andrew James.”

  She nodded, serious. “Why A.J.?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s what my mom always called me.”

  She nodded again, then added, “You’re not like any man I’ve ever known.”

  “How so?” he said softly.

  “You don’t press me for explanations and seem content to just let me be.”

  He brushed his hand across her brow, wanting to soothe the jumble of confusing thoughts there.

  She traced his features, starting with an eyebrow, then trailed a fingertip down his nose, across his lower lip, his jaw . . . “Why are you alone?”

  “Same reason you are, I suspect.” She waited, and he added, “It suits me.”

  “Have you always been alone?”

  A.J. nodded. She continued to touch him in a way that felt like she was committing him to memory. The intimacy of the moment unnerved him.

  “Men have a need to control—to be in charge.”

  “Some do,” he agreed as he soothed a hand up and down her back.

  “But not you.” Her nipples pressed against the thin silk of her chemise and the temptation to undress her was strong, but he kept his eyes locked on hers. She was working through something complicated. Her process fascinated him. She fascinated him.