Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
Teller
I let myself in through the front door of the bar. It was just after one on a Friday, and the nagging sense I should’ve waited wouldn’t leave me. Madison had said she was working the weekend and not to come before now. Technically, I should be fine. But hell. Didn’t she need more sleep?
I lowered my toolbox to the floor. I had more supplies in the box of my pickup. Over the last few days, while I’d had some downtime in the office, I’d researched contractors, cabinetry suppliers, and renovation concerns on old buildings.
The main conclusion I had come to was that this place shouldn’t be returned to its former glory. It should be restored farther back, to when the old brick walls could be shown off. The place should have new light fixtures that complemented the original look instead of the cheap, small-town-bar appearance Scooter had maintained. It hadn’t been his fault a previous owner had slapped on whatever cheap woodwork had been available, but since Scooter had uncovered some of the beauty underneath with his destruction, it’d be a shame if Madison covered it back up again.
I went to a wall and ran my hand over the exposed brick. A few nicks had been taken out in some spots, but it added to the allure.
A door squeaked open and I leaned over to catch her attention. Madison exited the bathroom in nothing but underwear and a bra. I tried to duck back, but my boot scraped on the floor and she spun with a yell.
“Oh my god!” She held her hands in front of her black sports bra, dropped them down to cover the triangle her pink underwear made, then up again. “Shit. I forgot you have keys.” She pushed back into the bathroom.
“Ain’t nothing I haven’t seen before,” I called, and winced when I heard myself. She wasn’t someone I’d seen before. From her powerful body, lined with muscle and generous padding in all the right places, to the way her hair cascaded over her shoulders, thick and wavy, no. I’d have remembered someone like her.
A guy could bury his hands in that hair, and those curves? Her thighs were lush while still looking like they could crush a guy’s head. My heartbeat pounded behind my zipper as I tried to control the lust coursing through my veins.
How long had it been since I’d had my head between a woman’s legs?
My brain quit working, overwhelmed with images of her long limbs and breasts that’d fill my hands.
The door cracked open. “Can you turn around?”
“Like a full three-sixty?” I should’ve been a gentleman and put my back to her, but the desire to see her again was too strong.
A moment of silence went by. “Seriously?”
I chuckled and turned to face the front of the place. “Done. Your modesty is once again safe.”
She scurried to the room at the end of the hall. One, two, three, no erection for me . I steadily inhaled and exhaled. When I had myself under control, I continued to roam the room, making mental notes of what I wanted to talk to Madison about. Mostly, it helped me tuck away the idea of that waterfall of thick hair draped over my chest.
She swept out of the back room, dressed in jeans and a hastily buttoned flannel. Did she realize she was one button off? She was putting a loose braid in her hair as she walked down the long hallway. “Sorry. Um... maybe you should call before you come.”
“And miss my chance at seeing that again?” I tsked. “It’d be a shame. Besides, I don’t have your number.”
She stared at me, studying me like she hadn’t understood a thing I’d said. “Okay... I can give you that easy enough.” She narrowed her eyes. “My number ,” she clarified.
“Like I said, damn shame. I know you insist it’s none of my business, but I guess I’m a nosy bastard. Why are you staying here?”
“I’m selling the house.” Her scrutiny increased. “Didn’t you know that? Your mom did.”
“You talked to Mama?” The thought pleased me. I couldn’t figure out why. I should be worried Mama had gotten a tongue-lashing from Mads, but no. Madison only stuck up for herself when she thought she needed to, and Mama would never make her feel that way.
Her expression turned guarded. “She was at the home.”
“Ah. Poker night. Back to the sale—no. I didn’t know. Can’t you stay at the house until closing?” The old Townsend home up for sale should’ve been bigger news. Though people had seen Madison going to Sal’s office and speculated. The news hadn’t come from any For Sale signs in the yard.
“Convenience,” she said lightly and tied off the end of her hair. She left the braid hanging over her shoulder. “So. Where do you think we should start?”
Her house was a sensitive topic. Knowing her family, the place likely wasn’t full of happy memories.
I looked from her to the room in the back. If she got off work at seven, then had to decompress, she would be lucky to get to sleep by eight. If she woke at one, then I had two questions. “Do you shower here?”
The color in her cheeks deepened. “I do that at work before I come home.”
Made sense. So that left the other question. “Have you eaten yet?”
She frowned. “I’m fine.”
Her stomach chose that moment to growl.
She wasn’t going to work short on sleep and with no food. Not on my watch. “Come on. Let’s grab something to eat.”
She drew back, offended. “I have food.”
I scanned the place. “There a kitchen hiding somewhere?”
“It’s been built over. It’s now the storeroom.” She folded her arms in front of herself, which only made me recall how full her tits had been in that bra. “I have a microwave and a dorm fridge.”
It’d been never since I’d lived on so little. What in the hell could she make with that? Little plastic tubs of food that barely tasted better than the container it was nuked in? “Well, I’m hungry.” That wasn’t a lie. We’d had a breakfast potluck at the office, so it’d been hours since I’d eaten.
“So go eat. You make your own hours.”
Her brush-off scraped against my skin. Dammit. I dug out my phone. “What do you want from Curly’s?”
“Nothing.”
“If you don’t tell me, then I’m ordering for you and you can’t complain about my choice.”
“I’m not eating your food.”
“I’m ordering for us.”
“Teller.”
“I always get a steak. Curly can be a dick, but he knows his beef.” I tapped in my order and doubled it. “I requested extra buns.”
“I’ll eat my own stuff.”
I hit the button to finalize the order. “Too late. Two rib eyes will be on their way as soon as I contact Seb.” I typed out a quick text to him.
She gawked at me. “Who’s Seb?”
“A kid I hired as my personal DoorDasher. He does all the runs for Copper Summit in the summer. I have him on retainer.”
“You have food delivery on retainer?” She shook her head, erasing her incredulous expression. “I’m not taking your food.”
“My treat.”
“No.”
My patience snapped. There was being stubborn and there was hurting herself, and I was too damn certain of what she was doing. I advanced on her. “If you’re not turning that sweet ass of yours around to get more sleep, then the least you can do is eat a good meal.”
Her red lips turned down on sweet ass . “I said I have stuff to eat here.” She stood her ground, and normally, I admired that about her. If she continued, I’d hold her down to eat and food would be the last thing on my mind.
“Is it good quality shit that’ll help offset the four hours of sleep you’re short?”
“I-it’s fine,” she sputtered.
“Is it meat?” I asked, towering over her. I lowered my voice since I didn’t want to be intimidating, but I also didn’t want to back away and lose that soft, linen-fresh scent of hers. “High-quality protein? Seasoned to perfection and cooked to a perfect medium rare? Do you have sweet potatoes with bourbon cinnamon butter? How ’bout steak fries? Because I got those too. And remember, extra buns.”
Her stomach growled and she scowled.
“Thought so,” I said, triumphant.
She licked her lips, and goddamn, her tongue was almost my undoing. I was close enough to capture her mouth, to pull her to me and bend her back until she completely submitted to me.
“Why are you doing this?” she asked in a ragged voice.
I snapped my restraint back in place. A missing puzzle piece she seemed to unknowingly control. “Doing what?”
“Being nice to me. I hired you for a job. That’s all. And I need it done as soon as possible.”
The distrust in her gaze unraveled me. So did her dread, like she was just waiting to be hurt or insulted in some way. I didn’t draw back. I leaned in closer, my mouth to her ear. “Because you’re worth being kind to, Mads, and I don’t care how tangled our history is, I’ll never treat you otherwise.”
A nervous breath stuttered out of her. “You don’t like me.”
I pulled away far enough to look her in the eye. “Seems that I like you just fine, Mad Maddy.”
She jolted like that nickname was a downed wire, and the green in her hazel eyes glowed brighter. “Don’t call me that.”
“Why not? Mad Maddy’s cheeks get flushed and her eyes spit fire. I’m starting to wonder if people piss you off because you’re quite the sight to behold when you’re angry. Some guys might wonder where else you express that passion.”
Her mouth dropped open.
Shit. I went too far.
“So whatdya say? Can we be friends or something?” The word was heavy on my tongue. Friends . I was starting to have some unfriendlike thoughts about Madison.
“My last friend was pretending so she could keep me busy while Wendi fucked my husband.” Betrayal and embarrassment shimmered in her gaze. “It was Riley.”
Shock zapped me. Goddamn, I was not prepared for that confession. How much shit had this woman gone through? She might be tough as steel, but she was full of dents.
“Jesus. She did that?” It was everything I could do not to trace my fingers down her cheek. She didn’t wear makeup and she didn’t have to. She had cheeks that reddened with a thought, and thick, dark eyelashes. Was her skin as soft as it looked?
She nodded, pain scrawled all over her pretty features. “So you see why I don’t have friends.”
If I could, I’d massage each tense muscle she had. Yet she was on edge. If I put one fingertip on her, she’d shut down. She’d think I was using her like everyone else. “What about Ruby?”
“I hired her for consulting.”
“But you’re friends.”
She screwed her face up, and damn it was cute. “No.”
The trust issues went deep. She trusted me as a Bailey and with the bar. She didn’t extend that feeling to her, but I wouldn’t give up. I’d start with a damn good meal. “So you gonna eat my food then? We both have some long hours of work ahead and I need to talk to you about what we’re doing with this place.”
Her frown was back, like it was her default expression. “I thought I told you that I wanted it restored to the way Scott had it.”
“You did, but I have some ideas. It’s not what you paid the big bucks for, but I’m asking you to hear me out. Just give me a little time to explain.”
She ran her hands over her braid, but the heaviness of her expression lifted. “Is this the first time you had to ask for a girl’s attention? You gonna be okay?”
A smile played over her lips, and I lifted a brow at her levity. Now that was more like it. “I have four sisters. I know what it’s like to be ignored by women.”
She laughed, a pleasing chime that should be heard more. “Why don’t you program my number into your phone so you don’t walk in on me again?”
“You’re not giving me a good reason to give you my number.”
She rolled her eyes, but I caught the smile ghosting over her lips.
“I can walk around in my underwear to make it even,” I offered.
Her blush returned. “I don’t believe in an eye for an eye. Keep your pants on.”
“If you say so.” I didn’t quit grinning.
She couldn’t hold back her smile. “Fine. Tell me what you’re thinking.”
My current thoughts would make her demand the keys back and lock me out forever. As it was, I wasn’t sure what to do about the desire flooding my brain and my body. Madison didn’t just possess an underappreciated sexiness that her fucknut of an ex-husband had squandered, but she also had a personality I was quickly becoming obsessed with.
No, I wouldn’t tell her what I was thinking. Because I wasn’t sure myself.
Madison
All weekend I had pondered Teller’s ideas. They were good ones. He’d painted a picture of a bar that would still fit the name and brand of Flatlanders Prohibited but would also give it an inviting character. If I approved some of Teller’s suggestions, Flatlanders would no longer only appeal to the dive bar crowd. It’d be worthy of being featured in those tourist packets distributed by the chamber of commerce. Flatlanders would be right next to Copper Summit as a sight to see.
Ultimately, his plan to leave the brick exposed and restore the floor wouldn’t take more work and it wouldn’t add more cost. Since he would have to pull out the remnants of the booths to clean and inspect the brick, I’d said I’d think about it. I couldn’t sense an ulterior motive, but I had learned that lesson the hard way. The guy worked fast. He was nearly done dismantling and hauling out the old twenty-four-foot bar and the busted shelving for the bottles.
I had a decision to make.
I didn’t work tonight. I was on my stretch of days off, and fatigue pulled at me. I hadn’t slept today, pulling an all-nighter so I could sleep tonight. Though lately, I could probably sleep anyway. Sometimes, even the curb looked comfortable.
Teller was hauling scraps of wood out the propped-open front door. He’d stripped down to his black T-shirt, and with each board he held, his biceps bulged bigger than ever. A squiggly vein lined each side. I wanted to trace it with my tongue.
I’d been fine admitting that Teller was an attractive man. Tall. Bearded. Fit. It didn’t help that he was also a nice guy. Now he was being nice to me.
Because you’re worth being kind to, Mads.
He was more than kind. He saw me , and that was terrifying. The worst thing I could do was admit I was attracted to him. Maybe I could do it in an observant, objective way.
No. How I felt around him was very, very subjective, thanks to him asking about my sleep, ordering extra buns on top of the most amazing meal I’d had in months, maybe years, and then dropping off a small pack of red apple jelly beans on the desk in the office without needing thanks or fanfare.
That man was supposed to be infuriating. I wanted to hate him, to lump him in with everyone else who’d been an asshole to me in my life, but he was inching himself out of that category, and he probably wasn’t even aware he was doing it. He was just being nice. Like a goddamn Bailey.
I went out the door and swept up the mess behind him, making sure each nail was picked up. I refused to be blamed for someone getting a flat tire driving by my bar. My phone buzzed, but I didn’t look. My job likely wanted me to fill in again, and while the extra paycheck would be helpful, along with the overtime pay, I was running on empty.
Teller and I continued to work and my phone stayed quiet. Unusual, if it was one of the nurses desperate for a CNA. I pulled out my phone.
Ruby: If you’re not already, you should take pictures of the process so you can make teaser posts leading up to your reopening.
Ruby, Teller’s soon-to-be sister-in-law, worked in the marketing department of Copper Summit, and she’d given me some tips when I’d been trying to help Scott pull this dump off the ground. She was nice too, with a youthful innocence and enthusiasm that made me feel ancient.
“Hot date calling?” Teller asked as he swaggered back in from hauling out a load.
I shot him a playful glare. I was getting accustomed to his teasing, taking it less personally each day. He did it with everyone. The postal guy had stopped in the other day to drop off a load of bills and estate papers I still had to settle for Scott, and Teller had joked around with him. I’d never seen a postman giddy, but he’d about skipped out of here after some attention from my bachelor.
“It’s Ruby.” I tucked my phone away. “She said I should take some pictures through this whole process for a grand reopening campaign.”
“When is the grand reopening?”
I lifted a shoulder and looked around the empty place. “I dunno.”
His brows crashed together. “Do you have a strategy for opening? Events to hold to get people in?”
“The same regulars will probably come back.” They’d been enough to keep Scott afloat. Somewhat.
He blinked. “You need a plan, Maddy.”
I stiffened. “I have a plan.”
“Me?”
I ground my molars together but couldn’t bring myself to look at him. I wasn’t done taking everything personally. “I’ll figure it out.” A tiny pile of dust gave me enough of an excuse to turn away from him to clean it up.
His boots were heavy behind me. “If I’m your plan, can you let me help?”
I didn’t answer. I squatted to capture the barely perceptible debris with my dustpan. I nearly ran into him when I turned to find a trash bag to dump my pile into.
He didn’t move. “I’ve been making and selling spirits over half my life. Almost as long as ranching. I help out with the animals, but my day is spent keeping the doors of Copper Summit open.”
“This isn’t Copper Summit.” I tried to sidestep around him, but he did the same, blocking my path.
“I’d hate to do all this work and then the business flounders because there’s no business strategy in place.”
“I said I’ll figure it out.”
“I can help.” Frustration filled his voice.
“I don’t need your help.”
“Not to boast, but I’m an expert at this, Mads.”
The fine wire of my patience snapped and embarrassment flooded in. “And I do what? Just clean butts and bedpans?”
Confusion filled his expression. “No?—”
“I’m just the help? I’m supposed to shut up and spoon-feed someone’s loved one until you’re all done?”
“I didn’t say?—”
“And then what? You tell everyone how you did all the work because I was too inexperienced?”
“Madis—”
“I might not have finished college, but I’m not incompetent.” Heat burned across my eyes and my vision got blurry. Dammit. Crying around his mom was different and it’d been about my brother. This was my humiliation out there for Teller to witness.
He gripped my shoulders. “I never said you were incompetent.” He ducked his head to look me in the eyes. “I want to work with you, not bulldoze over you.”
I fought back the tears, but one escaped. The hot drop rolled down my cheek. Teller captured it with the pad of his calloused thumb, a gentle touch, but brushfire swept through my body. More .
I tried to draw back, but his hold was too firm. Both hands were back on me and he wasn’t releasing me. Nor was I fighting to be set free. I was really damn tired, and I soaked in all sorts of comfort from him touch.
“Can we talk about this?” he asked gently. “Like really talk, where I tell you what I can offer and you consider it while trying like hell to keep that impressive baggage of yours from interfering?”
“Impressive baggage?” Apt description.
“Listen to me, Madison.” His voice was a low growl. “I’m not any of them. The people who hurt you. We had some issues, but you and I are in a new place, and they’re not with us.”
Tension vibrated through my body. I wanted to put miles between me and him, but I also desperately wanted to close the last few inches between us. “I know,” I said quietly.
I’d bought Teller for fifty grand, and he hadn’t gotten a cent of that money. He probably didn’t need it, but that was beside the point. He was working for free. For charity. Also, for me. I was a charity case whether I liked it or not.
I could set some of my baggage aside and quit tripping over it. He deserved somewhat of an explanation. I licked my suddenly dry lips. His gaze dropped down to my mouth, tracking my tongue. The air between us thickened, but it had to be my nerves.
I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Do you know why I didn’t go to nursing school with Wendi?” She had gotten her degree and moved back to Bourbon Canyon to work at the clinic. To date Teller.
He shook his head. It was still the two of us, standing in the middle of the bar. The sun was dropping lower in the sky outside. It’d be dark soon.
“I met Damien my sophomore year.” Heat wicked up my neck. My cheeks would be blazing soon. “He was a poli-sci major and he had plans for law school. I was... ” Enamored. Starry-eyed and infatuated. “Impressed. He was nothing like what I had grown up with. The more serious we got, the more we talked about the future. Planned it out. Including debt.”
Anger blew his pupils. “He convinced you not to finish school so he could afford to go.”
“I told him I’d make good money as a nurse. It’s why I picked that profession—I could get away from home and work anywhere. But he claimed we’d have two large student loans before he even got into law school.” I fisted my hands. “I was so proud of going to college, but I had no help. We were newlyweds and the debt was scary.”
It had been nothing like what I’d been left with in the divorce. The school loans were considered our debt.
“So I quit and worked as a CNA instead, plus picking up odd jobs here and there.” I flexed my hands and fisted them again. “Then, after my divorce, I tried to help Scott with this place, but he knew better. He always knew better.”
“Why didn’t you stand up to him like you do everyone else?”
“He’s my brother. He helped me after I moved home.” Scott had been the only one there for me after the divorce. He’d found me a cheap rental and finally let me help him with Flatlanders’ social media and a little more.
“You should’ve been free to tell him that he wasn’t listening to you.”
My temples throbbed. “Once you quit thinking my family is like yours?—”
“Jesus, all I’m saying is that you make yourself heard. There’s a reason you earned the name Mad Maddy?—”
“Don’t use that name.” It made what he said before sweep through my head. Made me wonder if he was one of the guys who wanted to know where else I was passionate.
He stepped closer. My chest was nearly touching his. “Maybe if you heard it more, you wouldn’t lose your temper each time someone said it. Mad Maddy .”
“Stop it.”
“Mad Maddy.” He dropped his voice to a low level that vibrated right through my belly, lighting up nerves along its path. “Mad Maddy. Mad Maddy.”
“Knock it off.” My demand lacked force. He could tell me to fuck right off in that voice and I’d ask him to say it again.
He lowered his head, his lips a whisper from mine. “Mad Maddy.” The slight tickle of his breath along my skin filled me with an aching need. “Mad Maddy,” he said with a whisper. “Is that better?”
“No.” My answer came out hoarse. It was not better. My breasts ached and my heart beat between my goddamn legs. I was horny. Because of him. “You need an annoying nickname.”
“I look forward to what you come up with, Mad Maddy.”
“Oh my god, Teller?—”
His lips brushed against mine, the softest of touches, a slight tickle from his beard, and my vocal cords froze. I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t move. He added more pressure and a whimper escaped me, going right into him.
I could crawl onto him, into him, just to get more. More .
A horn blared outside, and I jumped away from him with a gasp. “What are you doing?”
What was I doing? I hadn’t smacked him away as soon as he touched me. I’d wanted it. Dammit, I’d been dreaming of it if I had to be blunt with myself, and I had to be. Teller had nothing to lose. I’d lost almost everything already. I couldn’t risk the rest.
I pressed my fingers to my temples. “You can’t do that again.”
“I’m sorry.” He folded his arms and dropped his chin.
I tried to summon rage. He’d kissed me without asking.
Could he do it again?
Crap. I already couldn’t quit thinking of him. Now I wished he’d done more than put his mouth on mine. I had a lot of other ideas. No. This wouldn’t do. “It’s over.”
“Mad—”
I smashed my hand against his mouth, his whiskers scraping against my palm, sending shivers over my skin. His dark brows skyrocketed.
“Don’t you dare call me that again.” My voice was the only part of me that was steady.
His blistering hot tongue licked against my skin. I yelped and jumped back, cradling my hand against my chest like he’d burned me—and I liked it.
His grin was shameless. “I was going to say Madison.”
The teasing flipped me around and turned me inside out. I couldn’t take it. “Give me your keys. You’re done here.”
“No, I’m not.”
My blood pressure crept higher. “I’m in charge.”
“Then you know you can’t fire me. I’d hate to tell Wilna I couldn’t fulfill the deal and she had to give the fifty grand back.”
Damn. The money. The work. There was so much more to do. “You can’t kiss me again. You can’t touch me again.”
Instead of looking ashamed, his expression turned smug and his goddamn eyes twinkled. “I won’t—unless you beg me to.”
I scoffed, but he didn’t laugh. He was serious. As if I’d beg. A tremor raced down my spine and my lips still tingled.
“I’m finishing this job,” he said with a note of finality. “I’ll do the work however you want, and I won’t interfere?—”
“Ha!”
The corner of his mouth lifted. “As long as we understand each other. I’ll be back tomorrow. I just ask one thing.”
“I can’t wait to hear it.” I managed to sound derisive instead of breathy. My mind wanted to be guarded; my body wanted to hear exactly what that one thing was.
“You think about what I said.” He spread his arms wide and all I could do was look at his body. “This place is yours. You said you didn’t want to be dictated to by others anymore. Then don’t be. You can turn the building into anything you want. Is that really Flatlanders?” A mischievous glint lit his dark eyes. “Mad Maddy.”
That low growl. I almost moaned.
He strode toward the front door, his boots hitting nice and steady. And then he was gone, leaving me alone in a building that could be anything. Unlike me.