Chapter Nineteen
Madden picked up a stuffed bear from the shelf of the rest stop convenience store, turning it over in his hands. Did five-year-olds
still like stuffed animals? Maybe a coloring book and crayons would be a better option. Growing up, he’d had a filthy, ripped-up
football—soccer ball, they called it here—and that ball had been his constant companion. He’d kicked it against every wall in his neighborhood,
used it as a chair while he ate his supper, slept with it at the foot of his bed.
When he’d started playing baseball upon landing in Rhode Island, he’d thought about that filthy football, flattened somewhere
in a trash heap, and mentally apologized for betraying it, silly as it sounded. Long story short, he’d never had toys.
Though his siblings, the legitimate ones, were given plenty.
Unable to swallow the obstruction in his throat, Madden swiped another teddy bear off the shelf. A blue one and a brown. They
could have their pick.
He paid and got back on the road, immediately transitioning to the fast lane.
His eagerness to see Eve was likely to get him pulled over and slapped with a speeding ticket, but he couldn’t convince himself to slow down.
A week had passed since their courthouse wedding and he’d replayed that first kiss as her husband every time he closed his eyes.
He’d nearly rubbed himself raw knowing the next time he saw Eve, he could very well take her to bed as his wife, if she allowed it.
How many times had he imagined twining their ringed fingers together over her head and driving himself deep while their mouths reunited?
He’d lost count somewhere around a thousand.
Madden took his foot off the gas pedal upon realizing he was doing ninety.
Who could blame him with a woman like Eve waiting on the other end of the drive?
Morning fog still sat low in the valleys he passed, the sun just beginning to peer through the greenery on both sides of the
New England highway. She’d know he’d left New York at four in the morning—and he didn’t care.
Good. Let her know how badly he wanted to see her.
About an hour later, Madden stood outside Eve’s apartment door, teddy bears in one hand, flowers in the other. White orchids.
They were funeral flowers, aye, but they also had the kind of old-fashioned glamour he associated with Eve. With her club.
A soft rain had started to fall outside, just beginning to dampen the asphalt surface of the parking lot when Madden got out
of the car. Now it picked up little by little, pattering on the roof of the building and muting the light in the hallway.
As such, her face looked even softer than usual when she opened the door in her gray silk shorts and white tank top. She wore
her hair in one of those sideways buns with little pieces sticking out. Feet bare.
He was turned inside out in seconds.
“Madden.”
His grip tightened around the cellophane wrapping of the bouquet and they both heard it, his reaction to hearing his name in her voice.
And the sudden press of need in his stomach wasn’t only the unbearable hunger to get between her legs he’d been living with for years, it was a hell of a lot more.
The week away on the road had been grueling and now comfort stood in front of him in the form of Eve, her eyes tracking his mental state in a sweep, the way they always had. God willing, they always would.
“Eve,” he said thickly.
“Long week?”
Briefly, the echoing shouts from the locker room invaded his mind, before he silenced them again. “Yes.”
She turned sideways to allow him inside and he went, their bodies brushing slowly as he moved past her, the contact making
her eyes close, Madden leaning down to unrepentantly sniff her hair. “I love orchids, you know,” Eve said gruffly, taking
the flowers out of his hands, continuing into the kitchen with hypnotic sways of her hips and, Jesus, the way his fucking
blood pounded watching her go. “So dignified and graceful. Smooth and unblemished on the outside, hiding the most interesting
parts of themselves.”
“I had a feeling you’d like them,” he managed, using his boot to nudge the door closed. “It occurred to me you didn’t have
flowers at the wedding, so . . .” Madden paused in the act of removing his jacket when he saw the framed sketch he’d given
her a week prior hanging on the living room wall. Pride rolled through him in a golden wave.
“I might not have had flowers, but I had that,” she said, darting him a vulnerable look while placing the orchids in a vase
of water. “Um. Why was it such a long week? Apart from having to squat and hold up a glove for five hours every night.”
His lips jumped. “Someone has to keep the umpire company.”
“Guess so,” she murmured, coming around the kitchen island to hover in the living room. “Do you want to sit down?”
Madden gave a nod and joined Eve in the living room, both of them standing in front of the couch, him in jeans and a long-sleeved shirt, boots. Her in those little pajamas. Why was the stark contrast of their clothing making it so hard to concentrate?
Because if he got on top of her, she’d feel next to naked.
Hard on fragile.
They started to sit down beside each other on the couch and, god, that pleased him, the fact that she didn’t try and sit outside
of his reach. Before she could find her seat, however, she popped back up. “I didn’t even ask if you wanted coffee—”
“Eve.” He caught her wrist before she could dash off. “Why are you nervous?”
“I don’t know,” she said, huffing a laugh. “I think because . . .”
Madden used her wrist to tug her closer, until Eve stood in front of him, then released it in favor of running a knuckle up
the inside of her thigh, gratified when goose bumps popped up on her arms, her belly hollowing briefly. “Because there’s a
good chance we’re going to consummate this marriage this morning?”
She released a rocky breath. “Yes.” Her tongue emerged to wet her lips. “I thought I’d have some warning before you came back.
This isn’t exactly wedding night worthy.”
“Is it not?” He shifted on the couch to frame her hips in his hands, squinting one eye as if evaluating the outfit. “Short,
tight. Doesn’t require a bra. Easy to take off. I’m having a hard time finding the downside, love.”
“It’s not . . . special occasion wear.”
“You are the special occasion, Eve.” He leaned in and kissed her stomach. “We’ll move this at your pace. I’m just as happy to sit
here and talk.”
“No, you’re not,” she scoffed breathily.
“What?” He pretended to be wounded. “I love a good conversation.”
“Stop telling lies. I used to wonder if you’d taken a vow of silence.”
“That’s only because I was listening to every single word coming out of your mouth.” Madden took advantage of Eve’s stunned
reaction, snagging her wrist again and pulling her down onto his lap sideways, grinding his molars together when her ass landed
on his groin, so full and tight. “For now, we talk,” he said, reclining into the cushions, bringing her with him, his eyelids
drooping when she slowly laid her head on his shoulder. “How were the kids this week? All better?”
“Yes, although Landon has a lingering cough, so he’s needed his inhaler a lot. You should see the paperwork I had to fill
out so the school nurse can give him his inhaler. You’d think we were signing a treaty with France.”
Madden chuckled. “But it helps him?”
“Yes. So much. Lark wants one now too. She thinks it’s cool.” Eve lifted her left hand and he held his breath as she hesitated,
before finally tracing the crew neck collar of his shirt. God have mercy. He’d sit like this for the rest of his life, a willing
victim of her touch, the taut cheeks of her ass firm on his cock. “Rookie mistake, by the way, giving them different color
teddy bears.” She gestured at the bears he’d brought in. “One of them will become the ultimate bear for no reason and they
will go to war over who possesses it.”
“Ah Jesus.” Her laugh vibrated through him. “You’d never know I had two younger siblings, would you?”
Her mirth faded. “You’ve never really talked about them,” she said, after a moment. “What are their names?”
The living room turned momentarily fuzzy around him. “Paul and Sinead. I haven’t said their names out loud in a long time.”
Eve must have noticed the involuntary tensing of his muscles, because she lifted her head from his shoulder to look at him.
“Do you speak to them?”
“Not much anymore,” Madden said. “In the beginning, I tried to keep in contact with them and my mother, but once I sensed
it was easier for them to go without speaking to me, I more or less left the ball in their court. The calls thinned out after
that.”
“How could it be easier not to speak to you?”
Her incredulity was like a balm to his wounds. “I think . . . or at least I hope the home was a better place to be after I
left. That hope is the reason I never went back.” His gaze skimmed over her hair. “One of the reasons, anyway.”
The fingertips that had been tracing his collar moved down to the center of his chest now and paused there, as if feeling
for the sudden racing of his heart. “Was your home such an unhappy place growing up, Mad?”
Everything inside him wanted to change the subject. Or lay her down on the couch and distract her with sex. But there was
something about holding Eve this way—protectively, securely—that made Madden feel in control. No matter what he said, no matter
what horrible images his brain conjured up, Eve would be there, safe. He was keeping her such.
“My siblings and I have a different father. My mother . . . she was pregnant with me when they married, right. My da didn’t
come to find out until after the wedding that I was another man’s child. It changed him, or so I’m told. Apparently, he used
to be a kind man, though I don’t know if I believe that. Something my aunt told me made me wonder if his temperament ran in
the family. But at least it was directed at me, not my siblings.”
“He wasn’t kind to you,” she said, quietly, her chest rising and falling.
“No, love.”
A full body wince from Eve. “I see.”
He rubbed her back to ease the distress. “The . . . his aggression was only ever focused on me. When I stayed in Rhode Island,
I told myself I was taking the reason for his hatred away. It needed to be done. But . . .” He pulled her closer, his eyes
closing of their own accord when she pressed her face into his neck. “For a long time, I felt like I’d quit, instead of fighting.
Like I’d abandoned myself and who I am. My family. Hid across the ocean from a man who was the real coward. Hid behind the
plate.”
“You were never hidden to me. To anyone.” She opened her mouth and closed it, emotional pain on her face. “You were an important
addition to this place.”
His throat felt heavy. “Maybe I’ve slowly started to believe that. Hindsight has me realizing how much I tried to blend into
the background here, the way I did back home.” He thought of the tension in the locker room throughout their week on the road.
“I’m wanting to speak up more and more, though. What if . . . I have something worthwhile to say? Someone has to fix what’s
broken with the team and that was never my job, my inclination before, but what if it is now?”
“Follow your instincts.” Eve nudged the side of his neck with her nose. “And if yours need more time to bake, then follow
mine. Everything you say is worthwhile. Always has been. Always will be.”
Madden didn’t know how to express the wealth of gratitude spinning inside him, so he gave up a heavy exhale and tried to tell her with his eyes. “I didn’t come here planning to say all of this. It must be the rain. I think about home more when it rains.”
Eve took her time sitting up in his lap, rolling their foreheads and settling their mouths together, breathing in and out.
With their lips holding that position, she lowered the straps of her tank top, pulling the garment down just enough to expose
her firm set of tits with their pebbled nipples. Touching the tip of his tongue with her own, she lifted his hand and placed
it on her bare breast. “Maybe next time it rains, you’ll think of me, instead.”
And then his mind went blessedly fucking blank.