Chapter Thirty-Four
Madden stood in the center of his aunt’s living room. Stepped forward and dragged his index finger through the fine layer
of dust on top of the fireplace mantel. Around him, the silence was thick in a way that only five o’clock in the morning could
bring. He wasn’t sure what had compelled him to leave Eve’s bed and go for a run until he ended up here, at the house that
was once the only safe place he’d ever laid his head, only that he’d woken up with a sense of urgency and it only grew stronger
when he looked at the glorious woman asleep beside him.
Last night, she’d finally let her walls come crashing down, surprising herself by revealing an even stronger version of herself
inside them. A side that was going to trust Madden’s intentions from there on out. Trust his ability to decide what he wanted
and what would make his own life complete. Her. It was never going to be anything but her and, god, watching Eve accept that
would carry him for the rest of his days.
Nothing I do is going to get rid of you. For better or worse. You really mean it, don’t you? You want the good, the bad, and
the ugly.
Madden closed his eyes now in the predawn light, letting that moment play out in his memory for the fifth time this morning,
but instead of contentment sweeping in, the urgency to do something heightened.
He could lie in bed with Eve all day and make her promises in between rounds of sex and that was all well and good—frankly, he couldn’t fucking wait—but she’d set aside her fear of being a stain on his reputation, even though it clearly terrified her, and Madden meant to reward that bravery.
And pacing slowly in front of the fireplace, he had a good idea how.
This place had always been his aunt’s house. Not his. Fine, he’d found sanctuary here and never felt anything less than welcome,
but he’d left her things exactly as they were when she died for a reason. He’d never felt entitled to claim this place as
his own. His lot in life was back in Ireland, and while he’d left that reality behind, it wasn’t easy to stop thinking of
oneself as a burden when that’s all he’d ever been. He’d been taught to accept the bare minimum of privileges and care.
Perhaps it was Eve’s love that had stretched the boundaries of what he could and couldn’t accept. If such a discerning and
intelligent woman loved him, goddammit, he’d done some things right. He could look around now at this house that had been
passed down to him in his aunt’s will and claim it as his own.
And as such, he intended to renovate at the earliest opportunity.
No more hiding in silence. Eve’s love made him want to take up space, if for no other reason than to give her room to stand
beside him.
Eve didn’t know if she wanted to remain in Cumberland or go somewhere else. But she would always have strong ties to this
place. She’d always have a sense of responsibility to her family name and wish to have it respected. In the interest of showing
Eve how much her trust meant to him, Madden would finally accept the gift he’d been given in the form of this house . . .
and rebuild it for a new purpose.
If Eve wanted to stay in Cumberland, their home would stand on this property.
If she chose a different adventure outside the confines of this town, the new house wouldn’t go to waste. When Ruth, Lark,
and Landon were ready to return from North Carolina, a home would be waiting for them.
Madden nodded in the quiet, saying a mental thank-you to his aunt. For giving him a home. A chance. And now, the means and
opportunity to thank Eve for loving him.
Already making a list of construction-related tasks in his head, Madden turned for the door, only to have his phone ping in
the pocket of his hoodie. He assumed it was a text from Eve wanting to know where he’d gone, despite the note he’d left on
the coffeepot, but no. It was three simple letters from Elton—WTF—a link to a Daily News article included in the same message bubble.
“Bad Madden & the Girl Who Saved His Life.”
With his pulse already beginning to race, Madden clicked and read the first few lines, his footsteps carrying him out the
door until eventually he was in a dead run.
Eve woke up to find Madden sitting on the edge of the bed with his head bowed, sweat soaking through the back of his gray
T-shirt. His sides puffed in and out as if he’d run a long distance at a very fast pace. But that wasn’t unusual for Madden.
As far back as she could remember, he’d been the type to wake up early and train.
“Good morning.” She yawned, rolling over in the sheets and stretching, not bothering to hide her complete and total nudity.
Reveling in the fact that she was no longer hiding the scar on her abdomen from him. From anyone. “I’m going to kindly ask
that you take a shower before crawling back in here.”
Madden didn’t say anything in response.
Instead, he raked a hand through his hair and looked at her over his shoulder—and that’s when Eve knew something was wrong. His eyes were dark with worry.
“What happened?” she asked, sitting up, her first instinct to fear for the kids and their safety, perhaps because she hadn’t
quite shaken off the morning grogginess yet. After all, how would Madden know if something happened to the twins? “Are Lark
and Landon okay?”
“Yes.” He half turned, squeezing her ankle through the sheet. “Ah, love, it’s nothing to do with them. There’s just this article . . .”
Relief swam in her middle. Briefly. The kids were all right and that was the most important thing. But another article? Really?
When was the public’s fascination with them going to die down? It wouldn’t occur to Eve until later that she didn’t question
whether or not she and Madden could handle the situation together. Or if the content of the mystery article would force them
apart, Madden better off without her.
Those possibilities never crossed her mind.
She was all in on this man. He was all in on her.
Whatever happened, they would face it together and be stronger on the other side.
“Article?” she asked, gathering the sheet over her body, sensing this conversation wasn’t the kind one had with their boobs
showing. “Is it . . . about our performance last night?”
“Oh, it’s definitely mentioned, yes, but that’s not the . . .” Madden stood and paced to the window of her bedroom, hands
planted on his hips. “That’s not the subject of the article.”
“You’re being so cryptic—”
Eve’s phone dinged, interrupting her. Then it dinged again. And again.
An object slowly formed in her throat.
“What is it, Mad?”
“They know you’re my kidney donor. It’s out there.” He expelled a breath, slowly coming toward Eve, towering over where she
sat cross-legged in a huddle of sheets. “You’ve just gotten the courage to tell me and less than a day later, the whole country
knows. I’m sorry, love. I’m sorry they invaded your privacy like that.” He shook his head. “I can’t even figure out how they
got that information. I tried for years and was told your identity was sealed up tight unless you chose otherwise.”
Eve stared, scenes from the night coming back to her in flashes. “A reporter asked me last night. With all the media interested,
someone must have tipped her off, because she knew enough to ask, right? I was caught off guard and my reaction . . . it might
have been enough to confirm. Not to mention, my scar would have been visible when I danced. They just connected the dots.”
She looked up at Madden, unable to read his expression. “I should have been more careful. I’m sorry—”
“Eve.” Madden looked stunned as he sat down on the side of the bed and reached for her face, cradling it in his hand. “If
it was up to me, I would have told the whole world a long time ago. Jesus, Eve. A sacrifice like yours should be acknowledged.”
Eve sat there for long moments, her face supported in the hand of the man she trusted as much as she trusted herself, a man
she loved madly. And she realized there was no way to go back to loving him with reservations or fears. She’d let her love
break through the barriers last night and it was too strong to be contained ever again.
“I don’t care who knows,” she whispered.
“It’s the best decision I ever made. You’re the best decision I ever made.
If I’ve learned anything since marrying you, it’s that people can feel how they want to feel about me—their opinions have nothing to do with us.
You were never going to stop showing up for me until I believed that. ”
“Damn right,” he rasped. “And by the way, their opinion of you is that you’re a bloody hero, love. That’s exactly what you
are. You’re my hero.”
His image blurred in front of her eyes. “You’re mine too.”
Madden leaned down to give her a tender kiss, but when Eve lifted her hands to run her fingers through his hair and the sheet
slipped down, the kiss veered toward hot. Hungry. “You know, I wouldn’t mind a shower too,” she said, smiling against his
lips.
“I was hoping you’d say that,” Madden growled, scooping her off the bed and carrying her toward the bathroom while her laughter
filled the room. Once there, he settled her on the sink while he set about turning on the shower and adjusting the temperature.
“The day is ours, Eve. We can do whatever you want.”
She closed her eyes as the steam started to build in the small bathroom. “I think . . .” She ignored the little leap of nerves
in her fingertips. “I think I want to go to breakfast. In town. Just walk into a restaurant and sit down.”
When she opened her eyes, Madden was standing shirtless in the steam, looking at her with so much tenderness, she almost clutched
her chest from the pressure. The love.
“After we shower, though,” she murmured, sliding off the sink and pushing down the waistband of his sweatpants as she went,
biting her lip when he stepped out of them, banded her waist with a forearm, and walked her into the shower, pinning her to
the wall and demolishing any hint of nerves with a kiss that spoke of forever.
“Aye, love,” he breathed, drawing her thighs up around his hips. “After.”
Later that morning, Madden held Eve’s hand tightly in his own, trying not to show his apprehension over walking with her into
the local diner, smack-dab in the middle of Main Street. Not because he wasn’t proud to be seen with his wife—there was no
one prouder on this earth—but because if anyone said a negative word to her, he’d be throwing them headfirst through one of
the plateglass windows.
Protectiveness of the woman to his right hummed in his blood like the chorus of a familiar and beloved song, made more potent
now that their future was on solid ground.
“Ready?” he asked, looking down at her.
“Yes,” she said, smiling, sunlight spilling across her cheeks. “For anything.”
Madden swallowed hard, knowing he would be overcome with love every single time he looked at his wife for the next seventy-odd
years. Probably more so with every new day. “Let’s go,” he said gruffly, opening the door, the little bell ringing overhead
to signal the arrival of customers—
Applause broke out.
Both of them looked around the diner, searching for the reason for everyone clapping . . . until they slowly realized the
applause was for them.
Rather, for Eve.
Madden recognized more than a few faces in that crowd.
People who had attended high school at the same time as them.
Women who’d been picketing outside Eve’s father’s club years earlier.
Town familiars. They were looking at his wife with a combination of regret and pride, applauding her, leaving Eve visibly stunned.
And he knew her well enough to know something healed itself inside her in that moment.
Something even he was incapable of reaching.
A misconception about her character she’d disproved long before anyone else in this town had caught on.
Madden’s own pride in her nearly took him down.
“This makes a good case for staying in Cumberland, I suppose,” he said to his wife out of the corner of his mouth.
She looked up at him in a way that allowed him to see all the glorious years ahead with this woman at his side. “Actually . . .”
Her throat worked. “I think it’s a good case for leaving. I have nothing left to prove.”
“You never did, love.” Madden brought Eve’s hand to his mouth and kissed her knuckles. “Whatever you want to do, wherever
you want to go, I’ll be there.”
“I know,” she said, confidently, squeezing his hand.
“What will you do with the club?”
At first, she appeared thoughtful, then decisive. “I know exactly what to do with it.”