Chapter 9
CHAPTER NINE
Teller
I punched numbers in my calculator. I’d taken my research, brochures, and estimates from my office and spread everything on the table. It might not be the wildest day, but Madison hadn’t demanded I drive her to town, and I got to sit close enough I could smell my shampoo on her.
Madison stared at the data, eyes wide, sometimes unseeing, like she was getting lost in her head about the magnitude of what was left. Meanwhile, I was lost in the kiss. How pliant she’d been. Responsive. How good she’d felt in my arms.
“I don’t...” She shuffled through some estimates of windows I’d gotten online. “I don’t have this much money.”
“You paid too much for me.” She likely hadn’t thought the bid would go that high, but it had. I couldn’t let her down. I also had to talk to her, lay it all out, and let her make the decisions. Too many of her options had been taken away, and I wouldn’t be that guy.
She wanted me to quit kissing her, I would, hating every moment my lips weren’t touching hers. She wanted me to quit helping her? Nope. As soon as she had waved that paddle for the final time, she was stuck with me.
“If Tate gives me a hand, we can install the windows.” I pored over the very rough estimate sheet I’d made.
“He can’t keep helping you.”
“He’d be happy to. We can also install the toilets. If we get into old plumbing, and the project turns bigger than we ever thought, then we’ll worry about it then. Otherwise, I can install toilets. Same with the sinks. New stall dividers are easy enough to erect.”
Her expression grew more and more fraught with each task I was willing to take on. “That’s backbreaking work. You can’t keep doing all this.” She pressed her hands against her face, covering those lips I had gotten to taste. “I should sell.”
“And what? Have Sal screw you over on this too?”
“He’s not screwing me over.” At my dubious look, her brows pinched together. “Normally, I’d agree, but how could he?”
Good. She was letting me in, asking for my advice. I could puff my damn chest out. “What did you get for an offer? Or better yet, how well does Sal know the buyer?”
She blew out a disbelieving breath. “It’s not like that.” Uncertainty flashed in her eyes. “He found a buyer for a busted-down house and land that hasn’t been cared for in decades.”
“It’s Montana. You’ve got property a short drive away from Bozeman. That land will sell and there are buyers who won’t care about an old home because they have plans to build a two-million-dollar house. I’m just saying it’s not too late to start asking questions.”
She neatly stacked the papers with the estimates on them. “By the time the sale goes through, it might be. I need the money.”
He was likely preying on her desperation, and I wanted to deck him. “You could get a lot more.” I flipped through my little ringed notebook to a page I hadn’t shown her yet, hoping this wouldn’t slam her guards up against me. “I asked an old friend of my dad’s who used to work in real estate what she thought your property could reasonably sell for.”
I spun the page to face her. Color leached from her cheeks as her eyes grew wider. “That’s not—” She sucked air between her teeth. “That’s a joke. She was wrong.”
“She was conservative. You have how many acres?”
She worked her jaw back and forth, her gaze on the figure I had jotted down last week. “It’s not all good land.”
“No, it’s not the best for farming and it kind of sucks for grazing. Yes, your parents had property disputes, but that’d be taken care of with a simple survey. What that land is good for? Recreation, and there are a lot of people out there with a lot of money to spend on that slice of paradise.” Madison thought everything her family had touched was worthless and no one had told her otherwise. I would not be another person in her life letting her think she wasn’t invaluable.
“I just want it sold.” Her lips formed a troubled line and doubt filled her eyes.
“Sal’s a piece of shit.” I didn’t say it with heat or accusation. I stated it like a fact, like I was telling her it was seventy-eight degrees out. “He’s screwing you, and I don’t have to know how. I just know he is. Because it’s Sal. He knows you’re in a bind. You want that place out of your hands and you want your mom to stay where she is, but now’s the time to be Mad Maddy. Now’s the time to let her protect you like she always has.”
I tensed, waiting for that jolt of anger she often lashed out with at that name. It was time for fireworks. Instead, she worked her jaw back and forth. “No one else returned my calls.”
“Jesus.” The vulnerability in her voice made me want to haul her onto my lap. If I had my way, we’d be going over these details in bed, after I got to see how much she flushed when she orgasmed. “What about someone out of town?”
“It’d take time.” And trust, but she didn’t add that. Better the enemy she knew. “Everything was taking time and it took forever to get out of probate.”
She worried her lower lip while staring at the seven-figure number I’d shown her. Sal hadn’t advertised the property. He’d probably made a deal with a buddy and somehow they were both going to profit, probably by getting control of it so they could sell for top dollar.
“You can get a line of credit with the bank using Flatlanders and delay the sale. There are ways to make sure you’re covered, Madison.” She could let me make sure she was covered, to ensure no one fucked with this woman. “Ways to ensure Sal isn’t at the very least in a conflict of interest with the buyer, who I’m guessing knows this number and plans to use it when he flips the property to sell, which I’m sure Sal will help with.”
Anger darkened the amber in her hazel eyes. She was running the numbers. How much she’d lose in whatever bullshit closing costs Sal stuck her with. How far an honest sale would go to help with long-term care for her mom, who did not deserve her daughter’s diligence. Madison had to see just how many opportunities she had.
“You’re not like the rest of your family,” I insisted, “but one thing they always did was stand up for themselves. So maybe it’s time for you to be a little bit like your parents.”
A laugh puffed out of her. “No one’s ever encouraged that before.” Her smile faded. “I’ve worked really hard to be better than them.”
“You are. Standing up for yourself doesn’t mean you have to call Sal a cunt—but you’d be right if you did.”
Just as she sputtered with more laughter, my phone buzzed.
Tenor: Cows got out in the north pasture. You free?
Damn. “I’ve gotta round up some cows. You wanna come with?”
“You’d bring me to your ranch?”
“Why not?” Maybe because I never brought women there, but Madison wasn’t just some woman. “Mama leaves the cattle rustling to us and she loves company.”
“I like your mom,” she said, almost shyly. Shit, this girl could get to me like no other. “What would your family think?”
Ah. There was no way I was telling her my family was likely taking bets on how fast and hard I’d fall for Madison. “We’ll tell them the truth. You’re staying with me because Flatlanders was vandalized, but you’re not comfortable in my house alone.”
Her gaze swept over the living area where we’d made out on the couch, then pretended it hadn’t happened. I’d never forget that kiss. She’d been warm and soft and so damn sweet. Longing filled her expression as she took in the place from the peaked ceiling to the oak hardwood floor. She didn’t even let her eyes stray to the kitchen. “They will not buy that this house isn’t comfortable. It’s the most luxurious place I’ve ever stayed. I’ve never used appliances as expensive as those.”
“You can touch my appliances all day.”
She shot me a mock scowl that went straight to my groin, but the color returned to her cheeks. A playful Maddy was disarming. Not many people saw her like this, but I got to. “Tell them you don’t trust me to be home alone in your house. Or that I don’t have a car, and if there’s another attack on the bar, someone will be around to drive me to town.”
If that got her to come along, I was tempted to tell them whatever she wanted, but I wouldn’t tell them I didn’t trust her. “Let’s load up.”
Madison
My stomach was a tangled mess by the time Teller coasted down the sprawling driveway to a log home that was bigger than his. My breathing was shallow as I took in the outbuildings. The giant cream-colored shop, the large red barn, another smaller shop, still well cared for, and a small shed that resembled a tiny home. Red and white chickens darted around the exterior. There were a couple of other sheds, all in excellent condition, their purpose unknown to me.
On Townsend land, there was nothing but sagging roofs and crumbling walls.
“Welcome to Bailey Beef,” he said.
“My dad is clawing out of his grave,” I muttered. I’d always felt different from the rest of my family, but this would be going too far in all their minds. If Mom found out, there’d be hell to pay, and I’d endure the cost on each shift I worked.
My concern diminished the closer we got to the house. The Bailey home sprawled in front of me, the house that seven Bailey kids had grown up in, the house that several more foster kids had found refuge in. My parents used to gloat about how miserable those kids must be in the giant Bailey crew. They hadn’t cared why the kids had been yanked from their home or what they were going through otherwise. Just that it must be miserable with the Baileys.
Teller parked in front of a garage door, and we walked across a rock path toward the back door. I couldn’t escape the sense that I was one of those displaced kids. That I was getting farther from where I’d grown up because it was no longer habitable. My home had never served me, it had never been meant for me, and all my attempts to make one for myself had failed.
He opened the screen door. I tensed at the creaking sound it made. My surroundings had seemed surreal until that very ordinary noise. Mae was at the sink, her hands in soapy water. She beamed at me, and my heart caught in my throat, cutting my air off. Was this what it was like to walk into a real home? To have someone happy to see me?
“Madison,” she said warmly. “Welcome. Tate told me about last night, and Teller said he’d be bringing you.” She dried her hands and came toward me. Instead of encompassing me in a giant hug like when I’d broken down in the party room, she put an arm around me.
“You don’t have to chase cattle. Why don’t you hang out with me? Give me someone to talk to while I’m getting dinner ready. You’re staying, right?” She glanced from me to Teller. I relaxed at her not-a-question. We were staying because she’d said so. Politely.
Teller lifted a brow. If I wanted to leave when the cows were secure, he’d make it happen. But I didn’t want to. Mae’s home was different than his. Inviting in a different way. Warm and bustling, even though she was the only one here. Her kitchen was large and open, but the massive table was lined with chairs. Glasses and fruit bowls littered the counters. The top of her cupboards had decorative plates she’d collected over the years, a couple of bushy ferns, and the silver fridge was covered with family pictures and grandkids’ art.
“I can help you cook,” I offered. “I could even bake something for dessert if you don’t have that planned yet.”
Teller tipped his head to study me. The softness in his eyes did things to my belly and summoned the memory of me grinding on his lap. “All right, then. I’ll saddle up and find Tenor.”
I wasn’t impressed by a guy on a horse, not after growing up with my dad and brother, but I so badly wanted to see Teller doing cowboy things. Especially after he gave his mama a kiss on the cheek and stuffed a tan cowboy hat down on his head.
My world tilted, just a little, but enough to give me the sense that I was sliding off. I should’ve stayed at his place. Better yet, I should’ve stayed at Flatlanders. Since last night, ten more cars could’ve driven by and tossed bricks and I wouldn’t know. Part of me wanted to remain oblivious too.
Mae smiled at her son’s departure. “So you bake?”
I would happily bake for hours if it gave me time to straighten my chaotic feelings. “Yes, and if you have the ingredients, I know just the thing.”