Chapter Four James #2
Madison has never tried to keep her love life under wraps. And the only reason I’ve ever been upset when hearing about her going out with another guy is because I don’t get to be the guy. And I think I’m finally coming to terms with the fact that I never will.
“Whoa. Put the shovel down, James. Nothing is happening between me and Tommy and nothing will happen either. Happy?”
“Shovel?”
Of course she doesn’t clarify. She takes a peanut from the little tin bar-top bucket and cracks it open, popping it into her mouth.
“I’m back in town as a chef first and foremost, and I am determined to treat this position with the utmost professionalism.
” She cracks another. “Even though it’s uncharacteristically moral of me, I have a firm rule of not sleeping with colleagues. ”
And there it is.
I figured this might be the case, and I honestly agree with the sentiment in general.
It would be a bad, messy choice. But hearing it from her mouth somehow kills a secret hope I didn’t realize I was still harboring.
My stomach sinks all the way down to my boots—but still, I don’t regret helping her achieve this dream.
I just need to find a way to get rid of these feelings for Madison once and for all.
I already tried dating someone else this past year, and despite my best efforts over those four months, I wasn’t able to sever Madison’s hold on my system.
Who knows, maybe I’ll get lucky and discover these feelings were mostly born out of her being far away.
I’m not very good at relationships (see previous relationship), so it’s reasonable to think I invented this one because it felt safe.
It’s also a nice consolation that if I can’t date her, at least Tommy can’t either.
“So,” says Madison, turning to face me on her stool. “How is everyone around here? What’s the latest gossip?”
Tired of being tortured by the lingering flavor of Madison’s strawberry lip balm on the rim of my beer, I flag down the bartender, gesture toward my now mostly empty bottle, then hold up two fingers. “Fine. Everyone’s fine.”
“Fine?! That’s all you’re going to give me?” She sags dramatically against the bar.
“Yeah.” I shrug. “They’re good. Everyone’s good.”
Honestly, I don’t want to launch into everything and prolong my time with her. I think the key to managing this situation from here on out is going to be avoiding her as much as possible.
She’s appalled. “Quit acting like you’re not the biggest gossip in this whole damn town. We’re business partners now; you have to share juicy info with me.”
“Funny, I don’t remember that being in the job description I sent you.”
“That Tommy sent me,” she corrects, putting special emphasis on my brother’s name, eyes dropping to her fingers drumming on the wooden surface. “You never reached out again after that call.”
Seth, the bartender, sets Madison’s beer in front of her with a huge smile. “Madison! Welcome home. What brings you back early?” I think the whole town had her expected arrival next week marked on their calendars.
I tense when Madison playfully lays her head on my shoulder, knowing something wild is about to come out of her mouth.
She sighs wistfully. “I’m having James’s baby. I had to rush back to tell him the good news.”
With a repressed smile, I shake my head. By now everyone has learned to take Madison with a grain of salt. Especially where she and I are concerned. She lives to annoy me and there isn’t a soul out there who doesn’t know it.
Seth laughs. “Congrats. You two will make great parents. I’ll go get the parents-to-be a basket of fries to celebrate. On the house.”
“Aw, thanks, Seth!” Madison sits back up, dropping the curtain and returning to her personal space the second he walks away. But my mind is stuck on what she said a minute ago.
“Did you want me to call you again?” I study her confused look. “You said I never called you after offering you the job. Did you want me to?”
Her eyes widen. “No . . . of course not!”
“Oh, okay.” I drink my beer, unsurprised by her answer since she’s generally disliked me every second of every day of her life.
“I didn’t,” she insists.
“Fine.”
“It was only an observation.”
“I get it.”
Seth returns with the fries and we drink and eat in silence until Madison’s head swivels dramatically in my direction.
“I mean . . . we’ve never had that kind of friendship.
” Evidently she’s been over there churning this topic round and round.
“It would’ve been weird to suddenly have you all up in my business every day like, How are you, Madison?
” she says in a droll tone. “And me responding with something like, I’m okay but sort of lonely.
How are you, James? Like, gross. Who even are those civil, communicative people? Not us.”
“Definitely not us. Where’s the snark?” I say, enjoying this new game.
“The condescension?”
“The rude comments about my tiny . . .” I let the sentence dangle so she’ll fill it in.
“Brain.”
I raise my eyebrows. “Wow. Resisting a dick joke? I even teed it up for you.”
She shrugs and sighs dramatically. “I’m feeling charitable. Or maybe I’m just tired from all the travel. Point is. We are not the type of friends to talk one-on-one. So . . . no. I didn’t want you to call me again.”
“Great,” I reply, unbothered.
“Good.”
I stare at her. At the freckles across her nose, at the curve of her neck, and at her full watermelon-pink mouth. I replay the words that just exited those beautiful lips and come to a conclusion that might actually kill me. Madison wanted me to call her again. But why?
That night after I hung up with her, I decided it would be essential to take a big step back.
Putting her into a Colleagues Only box is the only way I will survive working with her every day.
I’d let Tommy handle most of the day-in-and-day-out communication, and when I saw Madison around I’d be friendly yet brief.
But seeing the look in her eyes just now . . . it has me changing course immediately. Because where Madison is concerned, I think I’d be willing to set the world on fire if it made her smile. And she has no idea.
I watch her closely as I say, “We could be—you know?” My beer hovers in front of my mouth, and when she looks at me with a curious expression, I clarify. “We could be friends who talk one-on-one. Might even be a good idea since we’re about to work together.”
Whether from curiosity or horror, her eyes widen. “I’m not sure you can handle the full force of Friendship Madison.”
“You make it sound like a hurricane.”
She tips a little closer to me, like she’s telling me a secret. “They’re very similar.” She sits back. “Only difference is, one comes with an invasion of privacy and complete use of your kitchen whenever I want.”
“You do that anyway.”
“But now you don’t get to complain about it.”
God, I should leave this bar right now. If I knew what was good for me, I’d close out my tab and get the hell away from her.
Instead, I turn my stool so we’re facing each other. “And what do I get out of this friendship?”
She thinks for a second. “To taste test a lot of incredible food?”
“Sold.”
She laughs, looking skeptical that I would actually agree to this.
Maybe skeptical about agreeing to it herself.
We’ve never been direct friends. Even though it wasn’t intentional, it’s like Noah has always been standing between us—a human buffer.
And in this brief conversation, we just pushed him out of the way. Madison is looking directly at me now.
“Really?” she asks. “You want to be actual friends?”
I don’t mean to, but my eyes drop to her mouth. “Bring on the hurricane.”
Her smile is a lightning bolt. “Great. Let me go get a knife.”
It takes me half a second to register her words before I hook my hand around her biceps to catch her when she leaves her seat. “Why the hell are you getting a knife, Madison?”
“So we can make a little cut on our palms and shake on the new friendship. A blood pact.” She mimes the slice across her open hand. Casual. Like she does this all the time. Most disturbing part of it, she’s dead serious.
“I’m not . . .” I shake my head, letting out a breathy laugh. “Hell no. Sit your ass down.”
“The friendship needs to be binding.”
“Does it though?”
She folds her arms, a little pinch forming between her brows because she’s second-guessing my commitment now. She’s about to rip it away as quickly as she offered it. In her eyes, I’m back to being Noah’s dumb friend.
So I sigh and extend her my pinky instead. “This is the best I can do.”
She eyes it and then her arms loosen. “It lacks drama, but okay . . .” She wraps her pinky around mine and there it is. Just like that, a new era is born. I can feel it. Even the air seems to change in recognition.
Once our pinky promise has solidified, she demands to hear all the gossip I’m withholding from her.
I go for the most fun piece of drama first: when Gemma accused Phil of cheating in the Easter bake-off.
Phil swore on his life that he didn’t cheat, but then Clara walked by his car and found a discarded store-bought cellophane bread wrapper in his back seat.
He publicly apologized and admitted that the stress of the holiday had been too much for him.
Gemma won first place after Phil was disqualified.
Madison’s smile is wild. She scoots forward. The gossip is a fish-hook sunk into her skin and tugging her closer and closer to me. Our knees are sandwiched together like black and white piano keys. Mine, hers, mine, hers.
“And what about with my family? Anything I should be aware of?”
I look away.
“You do know something! Tell me.” When I won’t look at her, she grabs me by the shoulders and shakes me. “You can’t withhold information about my own family from me, Jameson Huxley!”
This wild and loud creature is causing a scene, and I’m just trying not to laugh. Life hasn’t been nearly as bright without Madison in it.
“All right, all right, get your claws out of my arm before I catch your rabies.” She smiles deeply, like she’s been waiting for me to say something like that all night.
It’s the kind of teasing we’ve done for years.
A barrier of my own making, because if I don’t tease and annoy her, I’ll accidentally worship her.
I lean in a little closer and drop my voice. “I heard from the new barista at the coffee shop that Annie has been ordering . . .” I look over my shoulder and then back. “Decaf.”
Madison sits back, a shocked expression smashing her in the face. “Decaf?”
I nod. “And at family dinner the other night, I caught her pouring out her wine in the sink.”
“Oh my god. That means she’s—”
“Maybe. But hey . . . no one else in the family has seemed to catch on to it. And maybe she doesn’t want anyone to know. So don’t . . .” I trail off.
“Don’t what?”
I picture Madison with a secret in her pocket and can’t help but smile. “Don’t go run your big mouth.” I bump her knee with mine and she bumps mine back, harder.
“Please. You have the bigger mouth between the two of us!” As if to confirm, her eyes connect with my lips. My stomach clenches.
“You’re wrong. You have no idea how many secrets I’m keeping currently.”
A sly grin unfolds across her face. “And I got you to crack in mere seconds. I bet I could pluck each one from you in one hour tops.”
I bet you could.
The urge to kiss her, right here, right now at the bar unfurls in my chest like a beast coming to life.
I want to slide my hand against the back of her jaw and pull her to me.
I want to grip her bare thigh. I want to know what it’s like to taste her lip balm right at the source. To feel her sigh against my tongue.
“Madison Walker!” a loud female voice bellows from the bar’s entrance. We both turn to find Emily standing in the doorway.
“Ah, you’re home early!” Annie squeals, popping in next with Will, her husband, following right behind her. A shocked Amelia and smiling Noah surface next. The gang’s all here.
Madison practically rips her legs from where they were just touching mine, turning fully away from me. Right. Back to reality.
In the next moment, the three sisters (plus Amelia) are slamming into one another with hugs and squeals of delight, making quite the scene in the middle of the bar. There’s something so right about it. Like Rome has just sighed and relaxed, because . . . Madison Walker is home.