Chapter Twenty-One
Madden paused in the act of tying his shoelaces, his fingers suspended while he watched Eve run around her bedroom. He simply
couldn’t concentrate on both things at the same time, and frankly, he might never be able to concentrate on anything for the
rest of his life after that blow job.
He’d had women on their knees before, but it had been a long time. Since those first two years in college, to be exact. When
Madden left for college, Eve was still sixteen and he was doing his god’s honest best to pretend his infatuation with her
didn’t exist. He’d had a blur of hookups in those first two years of college trying to drive her out of his head. That first
visit home after her graduation, though, he’d almost begged her for forgiveness, even though they weren’t in a relationship.
Even though she’d shown no interest in one.
They’d never even spoken to each other in a romantic sense before that night.
He’d asked her out and gotten turned down flat. But he hadn’t gone near another woman since they danced in that tent on the
Pages’ front lawn. Once he admitted to himself that Eve was the end game, he didn’t look back, right, or left. Only forward.
Four years of cat and mouse had ensued, him trying to have contact with her in any way, shape, or form.
He’d fucking pined for her. Lusted day and night.
Missed her like hell. At times, he’d even felt flashes of resentment, confusion for being kept at arm’s length.
Not even a friend did that, let alone someone he had a very clear connection with.
Now? He thanked god he’d waited.
No one in this world compared to Eve.
His stomach was still in fucking knots from kissing her. She was wild, sensual. Sexy beyond description. Honest, funny, vulnerable,
adventurous. His.
The occupant of his entire heart.
“What exactly happened with Landon at school, Eve?” he called, wanting to hear her voice. “Did I hear something about a chef’s
hat?”
“Yes. He refuses to take it off.” She hopped on one foot past the door of her bedroom while donning a pair of socks, and Madden
tilted his head to watch the shake of her bare ass cheeks, apparently not gentleman enough to look away. “He’s locked himself
in the bathroom because someone dropped the hat into a puddle at recess. The teacher cleaned it off and left it to dry in
the staff lounge, but he wants it back and he’s not taking no for an answer.”
“I see.”
Eve stopped in her doorway, now wearing a pair of short, red athletic shorts and a half-tucked T-shirt. “Why are you putting
on your shoes? You’re not coming with me.”
“Why not?”
“People might see us together.”
“The deal was that we didn’t tell anyone we’re married, love,” he said calmly. “Not that we wouldn’t be seen together.”
She frowned and disappeared again, returning a few seconds later drawing a brush through her long hair. “You don’t think people are going to wonder why you’re coming to deal with a school-related issue with me?”
“Well, as you know, I don’t give a fuck.”
“But I do.”
The panic molding her features was going to be the death of him. “You can tell the teacher or whoever is watching so closely
that we’ve been friends the better part of a decade and I’m visiting from out of town.”
She chewed on that, but it didn’t seem to check any of her worry boxes. “Will you please stay in the car?”
Madden’s jaw nearly fused together. “Jesus, Eve.”
“It’s for your sake, not mine. Please.”
That statement bodychecked him in the heart. “This place and its people don’t deserve you,” he growled. “Not the other way
around.”
“I know you mean that, Mad. But I still want you to stay in the car. Please. This is stressful enough without worrying I’ll . . .”
She dropped the brush to her side, closed her eyes for a beat. In a quieter voice, she said, “It’s also that I don’t want
you there if someone makes a weird comment or turns their nose up at me. I’m used to it. But you would have to say something,
and I don’t need to be defended.”
Come back to New York with me.
Madden wanted to say that out loud, so badly. Maybe he would have, if the burlesque club wasn’t still in its infancy. If Eve
didn’t have Landon and Lark to look after. He’d risk her getting spooked in exchange for offering her a chance to get away
from the stigma that had been attached to her in Cumberland.
“I’ll stay in the car,” he said, instead, because he didn’t want to add to her stress. She had enough reason for that already. “One guess what I’ll be thinking about while I wait.”
Eve frowned. “Baseball?”
“One more guess.”
In the kitchen now, she dug through her purse. “Lunch?”
Madden walked in her direction, coming up behind her in the kitchen and gripping the island on both sides of her body. “Wrong
again.” He dropped a lingering kiss on her shoulder. “Your phone rang before I had a chance to say . . .” His lips moved higher,
up the side of her neck. “I’m not the same man I was before you got on your knees for me. Fuck, Eve. Just . . . fuck.”
A shiver passed through her. “So, you’re going to be thinking about blow jobs while you wait.”
“No, love. I’m going to be thinking about returning the favor.”
“Oh.” When did her apartment become such a sweatbox? “First of all, please pass on this obsession to every man. The world
would be a much happier place.”
“I’m only obsessed with eating your pussy.” He reached down and cupped her sex, giving it a firm squeeze. “I’m not passing that on to anyone.”
“Um.” She gulped. Audibly. “You probably shouldn’t fluster me when I’m about to meet with a pissed-off kindergarten teacher.
I need to be clearheaded to negotiate a hostage crisis.”
“Sorry.” With a final tightening of his grip, he let her go, sliding the keys to his truck out of his pocket, holding them
up. “I’ll drive while you pull yourself together.”
“So generous of you.” Eve giggled, and the sound delighted him so much, he pressed her tighter to the island and tickled her
side with his free hand. “Madden!”
“Sorry.” He kissed the side of her face, letting his mouth roam down her neck, razing her with teeth as he went. “I love hearing you laugh.”
“You’re the only one who can get it out of me.” She turned between him and the island, running her fingertips up the center
of his chest, driving them straight into his hair. As she clutched those strands, everything below his waist tightened in
response. “You’re the only one who can get a moan out of me too,” she murmured, going up on her toes to slowly lick the hill
of his Adam’s apple.
Madden dropped his keys. “Eve,” he said raggedly, seeking her mouth, his hands reaching for her thighs so he could yank them
up to his hips.
She dodged him with a flushed smirk, snatching up his keys and twirling toward the door. “Don’t worry. I’ll drive while you
pull yourself together.”
He chased her down the hallway, their laughter echoing through the building.
Approximately fifteen minutes later, Eve stood in front of a fire-engine-red bathroom stall door with a crispy new chef’s
hat in her hands, courtesy of the local pizza shop they’d swung by on the way over. She’d expected to feel a punch of nostalgia
walking into the elementary school she’d once attended, but nothing felt or looked familiar. Surely everything hadn’t always
been so . . . miniature? Her surroundings were tiny, right down to the soap dispensers and trough-style sink.
Landon’s teacher had her back pressed against the door, presumably to keep other students from entering while Eve talked Landon
off the ledge. The woman’s fingers flew over the screen of her phone, her eyes ticking to Eve and back down to whoever she
was texting. It’s about me.
She’s gossiping about me with her local friends.
That girl who owns the burlesque club is here.
She looks like she just got out of bed.
You should see what she’s wearing.
Guess I should be glad she’s wearing anything at all.
Perhaps Eve’s assumptions had everything to do with her current surroundings and nothing to do with reality, but throw in
the woman’s smug welcome and Eve felt somewhat . . . exposed. As though everything she said would be broadcast around town,
dissected and evaluated. Which is why she’d always kept her mouth shut in class or at school functions growing up. The most
innocent statement out of her mouth never failed to be related back to the strip club, nudity, boobs. Every time.
You’re not in high school anymore.
The teacher is probably just texting her boyfriend.
Probably. But Eve still found herself torn between relief that Madden had stayed in the car and the sudden wish he’d come
into the school with her. The ache for his supportive presence surprised her as much as it scared her. She’d always done hard
things on her own. Now would be no different. The future would be no different either.
That’s how it had to be.
Eve looked down quickly, keeping her gaze trained on the brim of the chef’s hat.
“Hey, Landon?”
Silence. Then, a sniffle. But no further response.
“I brought you a new chef’s hat. Want to see it?”
More sniffles. “No.”
Eve reared back a little. “Why not? It’s the same as the other one.”
“I want the other one.”
“I’m sorry. It got wet and it ripped.” When Landon didn’t respond, Eve sighed, opened her mouth to suggest they get ice cream later.
Anything to incentivize him. But she stopped short when she heard the quiet, yet distinct click of an iPhone camera.
Had the teacher taken a picture of her? Cold sweat spread beneath Eve’s clothes, her knee-jerk reaction to call the woman on her behavior, but she didn’t want to make the moment worse for Landon.
Focus on your nephew. “Want me to crawl in there with you, kid? We’ll stay in there forever.
You can be the mayor of toilet town and I’ll be your
trusty assistant.”
Was that a tiny giggle she heard?
Eve’s chest expanded with hope. “We’ll have big parties. BYOP. Bring your own plunger.”