Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
Iven
The day of the ice carving festival arrived far more quickly than I’d anticipated. Time in recent years had felt like a slow crawl, a direct contrast to the way it’d moved since I’d met Maddox. From the day he’d stepped into my bookstore, each second had gone by in a rose-colored blur.
And boy, was it filthy.
The best possible kind.
We’d fucked in every position that was feasible—I wasn’t as flexible as I’d once been—on every occasion we could.
When we weren’t going at it like rabbits, Maddox and I went on dates.
Dates that often involved food of some sort, a memorable trip to an art gallery Maddox was featured in, and once, a traveling film exhibit both of us were interested in checking out.
We had a lot in common despite being opposites in many ways.
In between dates, home-cooked meals, and getting my ass eaten, Maddox and I trained.
But…it didn’t carry the same sense of urgency it once had.
I hadn’t thought about Janis or Brian in probably weeks.
Hell, I hadn’t thought about them since the first time I’d jerked off thinking about Maddox’s beard.
Which was why, as Maddox met me at our allotted station in the town square, a box full of tools in hand, I forgot to watch for my ex’s arrival.
Maddox set his tools down and gave me a look. It was my favorite look. Soft and warm. His pale eyes drew me in, peeled away my layers, and beckoned me closer.
We’d yet to make our relationship official in a totally public sort of way—at least if you conveniently ignored our first kiss being out in the open. And while I’d initially wanted to attend the competition to prove a point, that mission had certainly evolved.
Now, instead of focusing on proving my worth to people I didn’t care about, I was more concerned about demonstrating how blissfully, wonderfully amazing Maddox Fuller was.
“Good morning, you beautiful bearded snack,” I purred up at him, stepping in close.
He cocked a brow at me, amused. I’d greeted him in a similar fashion every time I’d seen him as of late.
This particular nickname was somewhat tame compared to a few of the others.
My hands slid into the fabric of his patchwork coat, gently tugging till he got the message and leaned down enough I could get a taste of that lovely mouth.
He tasted minty.
Mmm.
“Morning,” Maddox rumbled against my lips, his big hands still by his sides. He hadn’t grabbed me. Normally, he would have by now. All that patience in his big, beautiful body and he never seemed to be able to stop touching me. To grab and pull and take.
It took me a moment to realize why he might be hesitant.
Apparently, I’d been so caught up in the snowflakes on his lashes and the curve of his mouth, that I hadn’t realized we had an audience.
A cheer erupted, applause I hadn’t expected, startling me a little as I twisted to see the rest of the competitors all staring. There were smiles all around. Everyone was pleased to see Maddox happy, maybe? Which was certainly a lovely thought.
He’d lived here his whole life—and while I called the town my home, I was still a transplant. It was different for him to be perceived so openly.
For a moment, I regretted what I’d done, simply because I wasn’t sure Maddox appreciated the limelight. He’d told me that in previous years, he’d attended the competition with a friend from his crafting group. And though the competition was a couples’ competition, no one had ever batted an eye.
This year…was clearly different.
“Sorry,” I murmured when the group turned back to their own stations, no longer watching us. “I didn’t think that through.” Maddox grunted in question, and I rushed to clarify. “I didn’t ask if you were comfortable with physical affection out in public like this.”
He blinked. His brow furrowed. The look he gave me made it clear what he thought about that particular statement.
I laughed. “Alright.” I relaxed, reaching up to scratch along his jawline beneath the soft prickle of his beard. “I’ll kiss you when we win, too,” I added with a wink.
Maddox snorted.
It felt like I’d won a prize.
Halfway through the competition, there was an optional break.
Which was good, because Maddox was looking chilly, and I had a hankering for some coffee—and a snack.
“You good if I grab us some drinks and lunch?” I asked, watching him pick away at what had to be the most gorgeous reindeer I’d ever seen.
He was really outdoing himself this year. Maybe showing off? Probably, if the way he kept puffing up his chest when the crowd that’d gathered moved in close enough to admire. It was cute. He rarely acted this way, and I was pleased I got to see it.
“Mm,” Maddox said, which was pretty much him begging me to get him food.
Damn. Poor baby must be hungry. Smacking a kiss on his back in parting, because I didn’t want to break his concentration, I made my way across the cobblestone quad toward my favorite coffee shop.
Penelope waved as I passed by the bookstore, and I waved back with twice as much enthusiasm.
It was sunny out—again, despite it being winter.
That didn’t make it any less cold, to be honest, simply made the snowbanks sparkle, puddles melting underfoot as I crunched my way through the crowd that always gathered in the center of town to observe.
“Did you get my book in?” Mrs. MacMillan asked me right as I was stepping up to the cafe.
“Sure did!”
“Aren’t you a peach.” She pinched my cheek, grinned at me, then took her giant canvas bag and her even more giant knitted hat back in the direction I’d come from.
The coffee shop smelled as delicious as always. Notes of ground beans, hot cocoa, and the sandwiches they boasted were the best in town wafting through the air. I sucked in a breath, mustache twitching as I let the smell fill me up.
Mm. I’d definitely need to hurry. Didn’t want Maddox’s sandwich or coffee getting cold.
It wasn’t until I was halfway through the long line that I realized who I was standing behind.
Brian and Janis stepped up to the counter, their familiar coats—the same as last year—catching my eye. She’d left her date behind, apparently.
I felt nothing when looking at either sibling, which was…
remarkable really. When they passed by me to wait in the back for their order, I waved.
Brian gave me the stink eye, but Janis waved back.
It was nice. And not once did I feel the fury-induced pang that’d plagued me when I’d seen her status, or his comment, on Netbook.
It was funny.
Hilarious, really.
Because I’d been at the competition for hours already with Maddox, as his loyal assistant, and not once had I thought about either my ex or her brother. They might’ve been the reason I’d messaged Maddox in the first place, but things had changed irreparably since.
I was no longer obsessed with the idea of winning. Of proving myself to them. The only person whose opinion I cared about already thought the world of me. Maddox was who mattered.
I had changed.
That showed as I grabbed our food and drinks, ducked through the crowd, and went about hunting down my giant, bearded boyfriend.
Maddox pretty much smiled at me when I returned.
His eyes were warm. Warmer than the sun that threatened to melt the masterpiece he’d spent the better part of six hours grueling over.
If last year’s competition, and the year before that, and the year before that were any indicator, Maddox and I would be here till well after dark.
They’d announce the winner in the evening, long after the sun had sunk beyond the trees, and the majority of the crowds had given up waiting. It was too cold out past dark, even when one was excited. And most assumed they’d see the results in the morning paper. It was tradition, after all.
“Bacon, eggs, and sausage,” I said, passing him his sandwich with a flourish. It looked tiny in his hand, and I grinned. “There’s a second one too.” He ate a lot. “Don’t you worry your beautiful, chilly head.” A moment later, I swore. “Forgot napkins. I don’t suppose you—”
Maddox reached into a coat pocket and pulled out a handful of perfectly folded napkins, and I grinned, helping myself to them. “You are the sexiest boy scout I’ve ever met.”
Maddox grunted, amused, as he unwrapped the sandwich. I went about getting his drink out of the carrier, napkins prepped and ready. “Hot, almond milk, no sugar,” I handed him his drink. He really did smile then, his head cocking to the side as he looked at me, all warmth and affection.
It was an intimate thing, to know someone else’s coffee order.
My belly flipped. I cleared my throat, adjusted my glasses, and reached for my own drink—suddenly shy.
Of course he picked up on it, because a moment later, Maddox’s hand was on my cheek, turning me to look at him. His coffee was on the ground by his feet, probably getting colder by the second, but he didn’t care.
Not as he maneuvered my face, leaned down, and gave a long, lingering kiss.
We won.
It was a given, we’d win. Maddox was a sculpting genius, after all.
I swear to god, watching him work was like witnessing magic.
Even though he’d been teaching me—and admittedly, I probably shouldn’t have been as sucked up into his process as I still was—there was no way I could do anything but be utterly in awe of him.
He truly was…magnificent.
So humble too.
When the judges came around, slack-jawed as they stared at the massive six-foot-tall monstrosity he’d constructed, he simply took a step back, hands behind his back, and let them judge him. Didn’t reply as their eyes popped out of their heads, and one began to laugh.
In comparison, none of the other sculptures present were nearly as eye-catching.
I’d done a spy round after dark, looping through the competition on my way to grab us dinner after a long day freezing our asses off. Andddd nope. None compared.
I couldn’t tell who had made what—and frankly, I didn’t care.