21. Maddie
21
MADDIE
“Is there a reason we’re crossing the street before we get to your family’s store?” Brooks asked as they made their way down Main Street later in the afternoon.
Dammit, he noticed. Maddie winced, then peeled off her sweater and tied it around her waist. It had been cold when she’d headed out the night before to Brooks’s place wearing a sweatshirt and joggers.
In fact, this close to her apartment, she could just as easily hop over there and change.
But she hadn’t considered it because Naomi might see her.
She’d taken so much time off work this week. Devoted soooo much time to Brooks. After how hurt Naomi had been the night before—which was justified, really—she wasn’t prepared for another run-in while with Brooks.
Maddie pulled her hair into a messy ponytail and met Brooks’s awaiting stare.
“My sister—the one who runs the Depot with me—didn’t exactly take the news about our arrangement with the accident too well.”
His gaze clouded over some, his lips drawing to a line.
Right. He wasn’t thrilled about me telling anyone, either.
“I had to tell her,” she started, shifting her weight to her back foot. “She was suspicious anyway about the time I was taking from work, and then she suggested getting video footage from the shop across the street.”
Alarm filled Brooks’s face. “Does that exist?”
“Probably. I didn’t really think of that. But I’m sort of hoping that as long as we don’t say anything about what happened, they won’t go looking for it.”
Brooks crossed his arms, clearly unconvinced. “What sort of people are the shop owners across the street from you?”
Maddie looked around. Two o’clock on a Thursday in September wasn’t exactly crowded on Main, but sometimes it felt like the walls and alleys had ears. She stepped closer to Brooks and sighed.
“Truthfully, they’re terrible. It’s an ice cream shop, and the owner, Fred Strickland, has had it out for my grandfather for a couple of years now. He claims that when Pops opened his shop, the town council promised him he’d be the only ice cream shop on Main Street. He has no record of that, of course, and nothing in writing, and until a few years ago, he took no issue with anyone else in town who sold ice cream in their stores. That all changed when my grandfather built the Depot across the street from him.”
“Your Depot sells ice cream?”
Maddie nodded. “Gelato, actually. My grandfather is half-Italian, and he wanted to pay tribute to his mom with that. Fred started a campaign with a few rival families to get the Depot kicked off Main. It didn’t go through the council, but he almost got half the town on board for a while.”
Brooks scowled. “This is the bullshit that makes me loathe small towns.”
Ouch .
“Also, his daughter is the one who just got engaged to my ex. So . . . yeah, we’re not exactly friendly.”
“Sounds like an understatement.” He drew a sharp breath. “So how do we get that footage? I could try to get my lawyer involved, see if they’ll sell it and sign an NDA.”
Maddie shook her head. “I wouldn’t trust Fred Strickland—or Gina. They hear you want money for that videotape, and they’ll blackmail you. Might even shop it to the tabloids if there’s anything worth seeing.”
He gave her a dead stare. “Yeah, sounds pretty terrible, doesn’t it?”
Oof. His words hit her square in the chest, her mouth going dry.
“I didn’t?—”
“Forget it. We’re even at this point. And you apologized.”
But his words fueled her guilt.
She never should have blackmailed him.
Or lied to Naomi.
God, I made such a mess out of things, and I have no idea how to fix it.
She could fix this—couldn’t she?
“You know what? I have an idea.” She grabbed his hand, tugging him down the closest alleyway.
“Where are we going?”
She didn’t want to chicken out. “Almost no one locks their back door around here during the day. The Stricklands keep their storage room in the back, along with their security system, so if we’re lucky?—”
“You’re not seriously suggesting we steal it, are you?” Brooks’s voice belied more of his shock than his face.
“I mean . . . we might not be able to. I don’t know if they’ve switched to something that uploads to an online server. But probably not. Fred isn’t known for being a fan of modernizing. Or change, for that matter. Knowing him, he’s got one that records to an SD card. I think he does. I’ve been in the storage room before.”
Brooks grabbed her by the elbow. “But again. Breaking and entering. And theft.”
Maddie rolled her eyes. “What choice do we have? It’s just an SD card. Hopefully. We can wipe it and return it. No harm done.”
Brooks removed his baseball cap, combing his fingers through his flattened, dark hair. “Jesus, Madison. And people think I’m a sinner. Meanwhile, you’re a temptress who masquerades as an angel.”
She didn’t mind the sound of that. “I’ll take that as a compliment. Are you in or out?” She crossed her arms. “It’s the least risky way to get that video.”
Then again, maybe it was Brooks who made her want to be daring. This was fun.
“And how is it you’ve been in their storage room?”
A slow smile curved on her lips. “One of my high school boyfriends used to work at the ice cream shop, and we used to make out in the storage room. There’s also no security camera in there, which is why we chose that spot.”
“I can’t believe I’m actually considering this,” he muttered.
She grabbed his hand again. “Just . . . don’t overthink it. What’s the worst that can happen?”
“We get caught. They call the cops. I get arrested. Again. Twice in one week would really do me in, you know.”
“They’re not going to catch us,” she said with overconfidence. “Look, I’ll go up to the back door, open it up, and see if anyone’s in there. You can just stay outside. If someone comes, I’ll tap twice on the back door and you walk away. That way, there’s barely any risk to you. But it is slow this time of day. It’s probably just a bored employee sitting in the front scrolling through his phone.”
He reset his cap and crossed his arms. “And you would do that for me?”
His words made her breath catch. Yeah, I guess I would. She nodded.
“Why?”
Why indeed?
Partially because she wasn’t afraid of getting caught. And the bad consequences seemed easy enough to get out of.
But also . . . because he needs it. And he’s never had someone on his team like this.
And after the conversation she’d had with Kayla this morning, she realized just how tough Brooks’s life had been. He’d been a good big brother, one who had always put Kayla, and then Audrey’s needs first. Last night had been a literal nightmare for him, and it was okay to show him some compassion.
“Because you’re my friend,” she said at last, tilting her head. “And it’s worth a shot. You don’t deserve to be blackmailed just because you had a car accident. Especially not by two jerks from this town.” She winked.
“You’re not a jerk.” He sighed and was quiet for another beat. “All right, fine. I’ll play your lookout. I can’t really afford to get caught, though, Madison. People are pretty quick to jump to conclusions with me. That’s why my manager thought he could sell a story about sex therapy and drug rehab to the press—even though I don’t sleep around and have never touched a drug in my life. But people believe what they want to believe.”
His words made her sad for him but also frustrated her. “I’m not saying this to be mean, Brooks, but you sort of let people believe that about you. You participated in toeing the line enough and didn’t push back when you should have. And if you won’t stand up for yourself, who will?”
He gave one stiff nod. “Send me your bill when I get back home.”
Right. He’s done with the life coaching. Still, she didn’t entirely mind his smart-ass quips. It was a side of him she liked. Felt genuine.
“All right, fine. But I’m setting my watch. Two minutes. If you can’t find anything, get the hell out of there. You don’t need to risk anything with people who dislike you, either.”
She waggled her brows. “Clearly, you don’t know how smooth I am.” Ridiculously, excitement bubbled through her. Life had certainly been . . . more exciting with Brooks in it. She couldn’t remember the last time, since high school really, when breaking the rules had even been a realistic option. What was she supposed to do as a grown-up to break any rules? Eat dessert first?
. . . or move in with a new boyfriend after a couple of weeks of dating?
She hurried down the alley toward the Stricklands’ ice cream shop, Brooks following her. Tracing her fingertips against the sides of the bricks, she drew closer to the back door and surveyed the alley.
No one in sight.
“Stay here,” she whispered. “Like I said, if I tap twice on the door, get out of the alley, all right?”
Brooks’s face was a dark mask, but he gave a curt nod.
Her heart skipped a beat, then she turned the knob and opened the door. “Mr. Strickland?” she called softly, just in case he was close by. He might think she was there for a reason, if so. She’d have to think on her feet and come up with a reason for being there, but that was doable.
Silence answered her. She didn’t see anyone inside the small storeroom either.
Smiling to herself, she slipped inside.
The fluorescent lights were already on, and dust motes swirled in the air as she closed the door gently. This place hadn’t changed a bit in the twelve years since high school—shelves of industrial-sized boxes of cones, cups, spoons, ice cream sprinkles, and more.
Her boyfriend in high school, Liam Kelly, had once suggested they get into the chocolate syrup and whipped cream while back here. She grimaced at the memory of her younger self, so eager. That was the time Fred Strickland had caught them back here, too. Liam had been fired, and they’d ended up breaking up over the whole thing since his parents were so pissed.
Her first real heartbreak.
Focus.
This wasn’t a time to go down memory lane.
Especially bad ones.
Though the chocolate syrup had been fun.
She sidled up to a filing cabinet that housed the storage system for the security cameras on top.
Yes. Same old system. The thick layer of dust on top of the machine indicated how long it had gone without being moved.
The problem was, she was probably too late to get the SD card from the DVR. If she remembered right, Liam had needed to change the card every four days if he was locking up at night. He’d stored the cards in the filing cabinet . . .
. . . but it was locked.
Damn.
Jiggling it, she frowned.
Where in the hell did they keep the key again?
She couldn’t be mad at her seventeen-year-old self for not taking better notes of the Stricklands’ security system. If anything, she was impressed she remembered as much as she did.
Turning in a circle, she scanned the shelves, searching for a key ring.
The back door to the alley opened, and Maddie’s stomach clenched, her head jerking up. Brooks stepped inside, quickly closing the door behind him.
“What are you doing in here?” she hissed, closing the gap between them.
“Someone was coming down the alley. I heard people talking.”
“So you jumped in here?”
He removed his sunglasses and gave her a sheepish look. “I didn’t want to abandon you.”
His words almost made her melt.
Dammit, Brooks. Don’t be sweet.
“Yeah, but now you’re stuck in here with me.”
“You think I don’t know that?” He rubbed his eyes with one hand, bringing his fingers slowly toward the bridge of his nose, stress written on his features. “What now? Shit, this was so reckless.”
“The good news is that the Stricklands have the same security system they used to. Which means the only footage from last Sunday is on an SD card in this room.”
He gave her a quizzical glance. “What’s the bad news?”
“The card is locked in the filing cabinet, and I don’t know where the key is.”
“Fuck.”
Maddie bit her lip, growing silent as the voices Brooks had referred to drew nearer.
Her knees nearly buckled as she recognized Fred Strickland’s drawl.
Oh no, no.
“Make that double fuck.” Maddie scanned the small space wildly. “We’re about to get caught in here by the guy who owns this place.”
A horrified expression filled Brooks’s face.
Dammit. This was so stupid of me.
So dumb, Maddie.
Taking a risk that affected only her was one thing—but Brooks didn’t need this.
Think.
She set her hand on his forearm. “I have an idea. You’ll have to follow my lead, though.”
“Whatever you say, boss.”
“I’m serious,” she hissed. “Brooks. I need you to kiss me. Like you mean it.”
He gave her an incredulous look. “What?”
“Just. ..trust me.”
“Trust you? Isn’t trusting you what got us into this mess?”
Fred’s voice was almost at the door. “. . . you don’t need sloppy seconds . . .”
“Do it. Now.”
Brooks reached over and plucked her toward him, lifting her almost effortlessly. As her legs slid around his waist, clamping around him, he pushed her back against the door. Her arms slipped around his neck as their mouths connected, as though they had practiced this thousands of times.
The feeling of Brooks’s lips against her own sent a jolt of electricity spiraling through her, an involuntary moan curling through her throat as his lips claimed hers, unyielding in their pressure. She closed her eyes, her heart racing.
Their tongues collided, hungry, sensuously stroking.
Too real.
This feels too fucking real.
Oh my God, this man can kiss.
Heat flooded her face, her body taking over instinctively, as one of his hands slid up her back and cradled the nape of her neck, digging into her hair. Wrecking it. She didn’t care, though. His mouth felt incredible, the taste of him making her suddenly desperate for more.
Fuck.
I’m so into this.
She tried to will herself not to get too wrapped up in the moment— what the hell is taking Fred so long to open the goddamned door?— but she also didn’t want it to end. Her core turned to liquid, her body helpless as Brooks slid the other hand up the front of her shirt, his palm cupping one breast.
Yes. More.
A guttural sound came from her throat, and she swore Brooks chuckled— damn him —at the response.
Two can play, buddy.
She ground against his groin, twisting her hands into his short hair, his baseball cap falling off. At the feeling of his own hardening arousal, she almost moaned again.
Shit. Slow down, Maddie.
“. . . and that’s another thing. What’s the rush? You got your whole life ahead of you,” Fred Strickland was saying.
The throbbing rush of her pulse filled her ears. Brooks squeezed her breast. Fuck it. She moaned again, this time unashamedly.
The door opened, and they both went tumbling forward into the alleyway as Brooks tried to steady them from falling.
“What the hell?” Fred Strickland growled.
Face aflame, Maddie untangled her mouth and arms from Brooks, and he set her down. His neck was almost as red as her face felt.
Good.
She refocused her attention on Fred . . . and Gina, who stood beside him, both staring at her like she’d lost her damn mind. Which she probably had, let’s be honest.
“Mr. Strickland!” Maddie straightened her messed crop top, wishing she had enough fabric to cover her stomach. She combed her fingers through her hair, her knees feeling unsteady.
Damn Brooks and his passionate kisses.
“Um, I was showing my friend around all my favorite spots in Brandywood. You know, a trip down memory lane.” Her exit strategy no longer seemed like a great option, but if it got Brooks out of trouble, she’d take it.
Fred glared at her. “Yeah, you always were trashy. Get the fuck out of my store, Maddie. I ever catch you in here again for your perverted activities?—”
Gina leaned in suddenly, eyes glued to Brooks, and whispered something in her father’s ear.
“I’m so sorry, Mr. Strickland,” Maddie said, taking the break to play nice. “We just got a bit carried away.”
Fred stared Brooks down, his scowl etched deeply on his brow.
Brooks bent and grabbed his baseball cap from the ground, then set it on his head, giving Fred a disdainful look.
At last, Fred sniffled. He held out his hand to Brooks. “I suppose there’s no harm done,” he said gruffly.
Brooks set a hand on the small of Maddie’s back, ignoring Fred’s proffered hand. “I don’t shake hands with assholes who insult my woman.”
Maddie’s heart squeezed hard, her eyes flying to Brooks’s face as he replaced his sunglasses. Gina’s mouth dropped open, and Fred’s face reddened as Brooks steered them past the Stricklands into the alley.
My God.
She might not be his woman, but a line like that was enough to melt her panties off.
“Don’t let me catch you back here again,” Fred finally sputtered out when they were nearly twenty feet away.
A nervous laugh choked out of her, then Maddie grabbed Brooks’s hand and ran.