Chapter 11
Madi
Iput on my jacket, tossed my bag over my shoulder, and used talk-to-text as I verified the clinic lights were off.
I’m stopping at the grocery store on my way home. Need anything?
Meg: Ice cream
Jack: I’m good, thanks
Meg: Please and thank you.
I didn’t bother asking Meg what flavor; she always asked for the same one.
I popped my head into Carol’s office, and asked, “Are you ready to go?”
“I have a few things to finish. You go ahead, I’ll lock up,” Carol said.
“I don’t mind waiting,” I said. After what happened the previous Saturday, I didn’t like leaving her alone.
She nodded. “Like father, like daughter.”
Once again, someone called me out for being protective.
At least this time it sounded like a compliment.
One nice thing about small towns, there was no traffic and shopping on Monday nights was quick and easy. I’m glad I moved back.
With my degree and military experience I could have chosen any hospital just about anywhere.
But I’d interviewed at big hospitals and felt like a number, a cog in the wheel.
I’d be helping people but not the way I wanted to.
Not like I could with Dr. Greenfield. Here, I could get to know my patients and have a lasting impact on their health.
I grabbed two half-gallons of ice cream: Death by Chocolate for Meg and Pumpkin Cheesecake for me. I loved all things pumpkin and took advantage of pumpkin-flavored everything during the much-maligned Pumpkin Season.
Needing shampoo and conditioner, I headed to the other end of the store. A display of pumpkin cookies and candies caught my eye, but I didn’t stop walking.
“Sorry,” I said, stumbling back after running smack dab into a hard chest.
I recognized his cedar and mint scent two seconds before I heard his laugh and two hands caught my arms.
“No worries.” Matt’s eyes sparkled with humor as he scanned me from head to toe. “You okay?”
“Yeah. Sorry about that, I got distracted.” My eyes wandered back to the display.
“You’re one of those people?”
“Excuse me?”
“A pumpkin spice groupie.” He laughed. “Or whatever they’re called.”
I could deny it and act offended, but he was right. I was totally a pumpkin spice lover.
I squared my shoulders and claimed the title with pride.
“Which do you prefer, the pumpkin-flavored chocolate sandwich cookie or the pumpkin chocolate candies?”
“Neither, actually. The pumpkin tastes fake, and I don’t need everything in my life to taste like pumpkin.”
“Just your ice cream.” Matt nodded at my basket.
“Don’t knock it until you try it.”
“Is that an invitation?”
Images of licking ice cream off Matt’s rock-hard abs flashed through my mind, causing heat to flood my cheeks and desire to pool lower.
He raised an eyebrow.
“That’s not-”
“Relax, Madi, I was kidding.”
Thank God. My brothers would have a fucking conniption if they thought we were hanging out. If they thought it was a date, or that we were sleeping together—again—their heads would probably explode.
“I, ah, have to get some shampoo.” I hated how flustered I sounded.
Then maybe stop fantasizing about ice cream on Matt’s abs.
It was sound advice, but nearly impossible to follow given his proximity. HIS snug long-sleeved blue henley showed off his impressive chest and thick arms.
“I need toothpaste, so I’ll walk with you.”
He stepped aside and motioned for me to lead the way.
We settled into a comfortable silence while we shopped. He followed me to the checkout line. After paying, we walked out together.
“I’m over there.” I pointed to the right without looking.
Matt’s eye’s widened before he dropped his bags and sprinted in the direction I’d pointed.
My eyes tracked his movements until I noticed the smoke.
Near my Jeep.
“What the fuck?” I said, running after Matt.
I almost ran into him when he pulled up short at the far end of my front bumper.
“Wait,” Matt grabbed me when I tried to circle around him. “It’s almost out.”
“What the fuck happened?” I practically screamed as I tried to yank out of his grasp.
“Madi. Just wait.” He pulled me closer. “Please.”
“The fire’s out.”
“Paul?” What the fuck is he doing here?
“Is this your car?” he asked.
“Yes, it’s Madi’s,” Matt answered for me. “Thank you for putting out the fire.”
“You’re lucky I was here,” Paul preened.
“I guess so.”
Matt and Paul talked as if I wasn’t there as I openly gawked at my melted tire and singed custom paint job.
Tears filled my eyes.
“Hey, are you okay?” Paul asked, reaching towards my shoulder. His hand pulled back in a blur when Matt growled.
I shook off my fear and frustration, blinked back my tears and said, “I’m fine.”
Matt’s phone was at his ear when he said, “The Star Grocery Store parking lot, west side.”
He put his hand on my lower back as he waited to answer the next question.
“There was a small fire outside a purple Jeep. No injuries.”
Matt sounded far calmer than I felt.
Paul watched me as Matt talked to the 9-1-1 operator.
“A concerned citizen put it out.”
“Firefighter,” Paul corrected, but Matt didn’t change his answer.
“Yes ma’am. We’ll wait.” Matt pulled the phone away from his ear, then hit the mute and speaker buttons.
“Firefighters and PD are on their way. You should call your dad.”
“But…”
“Madi, if you don’t, I will.”
“Fine.” I pulled out my phone and opened my text app.
“Call, don’t text; he’ll want to hear your voice.”
“I can call for you,” Paul offered.
Oh, hell no. I tapped Dad’s contact and held the phone to my ear.
Matt leveled Paul with a glare that should’ve withered him. “No.”
“Hey, Dad, it’s Madi.” I sounded significantly calmer than I felt.
My dad chuckled. “I know how to use my caller ID. Is everything okay?”
Sirens sounded in the background.
“There was a small fire near my Jeep.”
“Are you okay?” Dad asked, a slight tremor in his voice. “Why aren’t you on the phone with 9-1-1?”
“I’m fine. Matt called 9-1-1.”
“Robinson?”
“Yes, we bumped into each other at the store.”
“I’m on my way.”
“Dad, you don’t need-”
“It wasn’t a suggestion, Madeleine.”
He used my full name and a voice I recognized as his ‘this discussion is over’ tone.
“Yes, sir.” There wasn’t much else to say, so I hung up. “He’s on his way.”
Matt forced a smile. I wondered if he was worried he’d get in trouble for being in the wrong place at the wrong time.
I couldn’t blame him; my brothers had been less than civil since the holiday party. Regardless of how they felt about him; I was glad Matt was here.
The local FD and PD arrived and took our statements.
Matt’s comforting hand dropped from my back when Dad arrived. But not fast enough. So naturally, my father noticed. Dad hugged me and shook Matt’s hand, thanking him before talking to the ranking officer.
Paul puffed his chest out when he introduced himself to my father. Dad assessed him with a quick glance and dismissed him. Though I doubt Paul realizes it.
Dad shook hands and exchanged business cards with the Weatherford PD officer before returning to my side.
“What happened?”
“Didn’t Officer Doyle tell you?” I asked.
“I’d like to hear it from you.”
I told him what little I knew.
“Sir, it was luck that I was here.” Matt let my father know we weren’t here together in the subtlest way possible. “But I’m glad I was. The guy who put out the fire, Paul, isn’t local and I don’t trust him.”
Dad watched my face as Matt spoke. “Why?” he asked.
I opened my mouth to answer, but Matt cut me off.
“He refused to take no for an answer when he hit on Madi the other night. After I made it clear I was her date, he hovered around while we had dinner.”
“I’m right here.”
Their eyes shifted to me, but they didn’t stop their conversation.
Dad ground his teeth. “Why am I just now hearing about this?”
“Dad, Paul isn’t the first guy to think I’m playing hard-to-get when I say no. I handled it.”
“It sounds like Robinson handled it.”
I scoffed. “He helped, but I could’ve handled it if he hadn’t shown up.”
“Does Paul think you two are dating?”
“Yes,” we answered together.
“Did you reinforce that belief today?”
“Yes, non-verbally,” Matt answered.
Dad nodded slowly. It was a look I remembered from childhood. It was his ‘thinking’ look. I saw it often growing up, as he contemplated the next course of action, usually when one of us kids had to be punished.
“Since you’ve established the lie, I’m assigning you to Madi-”
“DAD!” I stomped my foot like a petulant six-year-old.
“Madi, don’t.” Dad turned to Matt. “Robinson, as I was saying, I want you guarding Madi.”
“Dad, we don’t know this is about me.”
“First the fire on the clinic lawn and now your Jeep? I don’t believe in coincidences, Madi.” Matt said, taking my father’s side.
“Neither do I.”
“I don’t need a bodyguard. I live with Jack, remember?”
“Madeleine Anne Sheppard, stop arguing.”
My jaw dropped at the use of the middle name I shared with my mother.
“I’ll tell Jack to be on alert. Anytime you leave the house, Robinson will be with you.”
“Yes, sir,” Matt answered. “Do you want me to keep up the pretense?”
“Yes, I’d like to force this bastard to make a mistake. If he’s fixated on Madi, seeing her with another guy may cause him to escalate.”
No way did I just hear him correctly. “You want to use me as bait? Put me in more danger?”
“I won’t let him hurt you.” The conviction in Matt’s voice was absolute, but he wasn’t infallible.
“He won’t be the only one watching out for you.”
Fuck my life. Never in a million years would I have guessed my life would be more dangerous after leaving the Navy.
Dad stayed until the tow truck arrived. When he tried to handle the situation, I stepped between them. “If it was Jamie’s truck, would you let him handle this?”
Dad stepped back and apologized. “Go ahead.”
“Thank you.” It wasn’t much, but I’d take the victory.
A small step in gaining the respect I shouldn’t have to fight for. I fidgeted with the shop’s business card while I watched, with a mix of anger and sadness, the driver strapped O.P. to the winch and pulled her onto the flatbed.
Turning to my dad, I asked, “Can you take me to the repair shop?”
“I’ll take you,” Matt answered. “We can drop off your groceries first.”
Shit. I’d forgotten about my groceries. My shampoo washed the parking lot and the ice cream had turned into shakes in their cartons.
“I can grab what you need, just tell me what you bought,” Dad offered.
“Thanks, but-”
“Death by Chocolate and Pumpkin Cheesecake ice cream, pearl shampoo and anti-frizz conditioner, and a bag of gala apples,” Matt rattled off my list.
“You committed my groceries to memory?” I couldn’t tell if his skill impressed me or creeped me out.
Both.
Matt shrugged. “It’s a gift.”
My eye roll was involuntary.
“Got it. I’ll grab what you need and take it to Jack’s. I’ll brief him while spending some quality time with my granddaughter.”
I sighed. Between the foot-stomping, eye-rolling, and sighing, I’m not doing a good job of acting my age.
“Thanks, Dad.”
“You’re welcome.” Dad pulled Matt aside, but not far enough that I couldn’t hear them.