33. Maddie
33
MADDIE
The night air was cool as we stepped out of the hospital to head to the hotel, the faint scent of freshly cut grass lingering on the breeze. The moon hung low in the sky, casting a silvery glow over the parking lot. Grant walked beside me, his small hand clasped in mine, his energy seemingly untouched by the long day.
“Are we taking The Lambo or is your friend, Ian, driving us?” Grant asked, his voice curious and bright as he tilted his head up at me.
I glanced at Ian who was walking on my other side. His brow furrowed, his lips twitching like he wasn’t sure if he should laugh. “Wait,” he said, “do you guys have a Lambo? And you’ve just been driving that old Subaru around so no one guesses you’re secretly rich?”
“No, no, definitely not.” A laugh bubbled out of me before I could stop it. “We only have one car, and it’s not a Lambo. That’s just the nickname Grant and I gave it one day. Something silly.”
“That’s actually fun.” Ian grinned, his face softening in the moonlight. “I like it. The Lambo.”
Grant beamed, clearly proud of our little inside joke, but I crouched slightly so we were eye to eye. “You actually get to ride in Uncle Easton’s car tonight,” I told him. “The Lambo’s still in Eden Falls since I caught a ride here with my friend.”
“Oh, okay,” he said, sounding a little disappointed.
I ruffled his hair and pointed to Ian. “Ian’s car is even fancier than a Lambo, but it only has two seats, so we’ll just meet you at the hotel, okay?”
Grant nodded, seemingly placated, and reached for Easton’s hand as my brother caught up with us. “Come on, buddy,” Easton said with a smile, leading him toward his car. Juliette followed close behind, the four of us heading in different directions.
The hotel wasn’t far, just a few blocks away, and Ian’s sleek car hummed quietly as we made our way there. Once we arrived, Ian went straight to the front desk to check us in. A few minutes later, he returned with a handful of key cards, handing them out.
“Here you go,” he said, holding mine out to me with a small smile. “Room 215.”
“Thanks,” I said, taking it from him.
“Want me to help you and Grant get settled?”
“That would be great,” I admitted.
We headed upstairs, and once we reached the room, Ian carried my suitcase and Grant’s small bag inside before setting them down near the bed. “I’ll let you two get settled,” he said, his voice low and warm, lingering for a beat as though he wasn’t quite ready to leave. “I’m just next door if you need anything.”
“Thanks,” I said softly, watching him as he stepped back toward the door. He gave me a small, reassuring smile before heading out, quietly closing the door behind him.
Turning my attention back to Grant, I focused on getting him ready for bed. He’d been bright-eyed and full of energy when we’d left the hospital, chattering nonstop and soaking up the buzz of being surrounded by family. But now, as I handed him his pajamas and helped him brush his teeth, I could see the tiredness creeping in.
By the time I tucked him under the covers, his eyelids were heavy, and he yawned, snuggling deeper into the pillow. Within minutes, his soft, steady breaths filled the room—a peaceful rhythm that never failed to make my heart swell. I lingered by the bed, smoothing his hair back, whispering a quiet, “I love you, baby,” before stepping away.
Slipping into the bathroom, I let the cool water rinse the day’s weight from my face. The familiar routine was grounding, a small moment of calm after the whirlwind we’d been through. As I dried my face, I reached for my phone, hesitating for only a moment before typing out a quick message to Ian.
Me: Thank you again for all you did for me and my family today. I really appreciate it so much.
I hit send and started applying my nighttime moisturizer, half-expecting him to take a while to reply. But my phone buzzed almost instantly.
Ian: I’m glad I could help. Glad your dad is doing better.
I smiled faintly, typing back.
Me: Me too.
After flossing and brushing my teeth, I stepped into the room and paused. My eyes caught on a door next to the mini-fridge—an adjoining door. A flicker of amusement danced through me as I remembered sharing a similar setup with Ian in Boston.
How was it possible that so much had happened since then?
Curiosity got the better of me, so I texted him.
Me: What room are you in?
A moment later, his reply came.
Ian: 217
I walked to the hallway, opening my door to check. Sure enough, Ian’s door was just left of mine. Grinning, I knocked lightly on the door connecting us.
A few seconds later, it opened, and Ian stood there, leaning casually against the doorframe. He was in a white T-shirt and gym shorts, his dark hair slightly tousled. He looked effortlessly good—just like the last time I’d seen him in pajamas. How had that been only two nights ago?
“Fancy seeing you here,” I said, my voice lighter than it had been all day.
“Yeah…” He chuckled softly, running a hand through his already tousled hair. “I may have asked the hotel clerk for adjoining rooms.” A sheepish smile tugged at his lips. “I just wanted to be close by, you know, in case you needed anything.”
My heart gave a little flutter. “That’s really sweet of you to watch out for us,” I said, softly.
With his gaze steady on mine, he sincerely said, “I can’t really help it now.”
Warmth bloomed in my chest, spreading to my toes. There was something so deeply comforting about knowing someone was looking out for me—really looking out for me—not because they had to, but because they wanted to. It was a feeling I wasn’t used to, and I didn’t quite know what to do with it.
I peeked my head into his room, eyeing the modest layout. “How does it feel to be in a regular room? Must be quite the downsize from the suites you’re used to.”
He chuckled. “It’s just fine,” he said, crossing his arms in a way that emphasized his muscular forearms. “I’m really not as high maintenance as you think.”
“Good to know.” I turned toward the open door that connected our rooms, gesturing toward mine. “I should probably head back,” I said reluctantly. “It’s late, and I should get some sleep.”
“Yeah,” he said, his voice low and steady. “You probably should.” But his eyes lingered on me, a glimmer of something unspoken making it clear he wasn’t quite ready to let me go.
So, needing to fill the silence—and maybe delay leaving—I asked, “Do you really think those fancy dresses will be okay in your trunk tonight?”
“Yeah,” he murmured as he stepped closer, his gaze flicking to my lips before returning to my eyes. “I think they’ll be fine.”
“You sure?” I pressed, my pulse quickening from the way he was looking at me, the way the air seemed to thrum between us. “I mean, what if someone sees your fancy car in the parking lot and gets the idea that there might be some really fancy things inside to steal?”
“I’m not worried about it.” He sounded calm, sure.
“You’re positive?” I asked, my voice wavering slightly as his nearness sent a rush of heat through me.
“The most precious cargo is already safe inside the hotel, staying in the room next to me tonight.”
For a moment, I was speechless. My breath hitched, and my mind raced for a response, but before I could find one, he winked. “And his mom is pretty cute, too.”
It took me a second to catch on, and when I did, I swatted his arm, laughing despite myself. “And here I was thinking you were talking about me!”
“Of course I was talking about you.” He chuckled. “But yeah, your son seems pretty awesome, too.”
I smiled, warmth spreading through me. “Glad you think so.”
He nodded, his expression softening. “I do.”
He leaned in closer, and for a heartbeat, I thought he might kiss me. But instead of pressing his lips to mine like I hoped, he brushed a featherlight kiss against my cheek.
Then, resting his forehead against mine, his breath warm and minty against my nose, he mumbled, “This is probably breaking some sort of rule we didn’t talk about when we started this whole thing, but…I like you, Maddie.” He sighed as he lifted a hand to brush his thumb over my cheek. “Probably way more than I should.”
And despite all the misgivings I’d had last night and this morning—the worries that I might just be another fleeting chapter in his long history of conquests…I believed him. I really did.
The sincerity in his tone, the look in his deep brown eyes—it made my heart ache in a way I couldn’t explain.
“I don’t know what’s going on,” I admitted, my voice trembling as I let out a shaky breath. “Just this morning, I was so determined to stop all the…flirty vibes between us. To keep things professional. To forget everything that happened this week because I didn’t want any messiness or drama in my life. But…” My breath caught, and I shook my head. “I’m not sure I actually want to forget everything.”
The air between us thickened, charged with an electricity that felt almost tangible. His lips brushed my cheek again, featherlight and gentle, and then my forehead, lingering just long enough to make my heart constrict. The tenderness of his touch unraveled me, thread by thread, making me feel cherished in a way I hadn’t in years. When his lips moved to my temple and then to my other cheek, each kiss was deliberate, reverent, leaving me breathless and trembling.
“You make it impossible not to fall for you,” he murmured roughly, the words grazing my skin like a promise.
The sincerity in his tone, the way his deep brown eyes held mine as though I was the only thing he saw—it sent a deep pang through my chest. I felt like I was standing on the edge of something monumental, something I wasn’t sure I was ready for but desperately wanted to leap into anyway.
How was it possible that he was even real? That this man, who had once been infamous for his fleeting romances and trail of broken hearts, now held me as though I was the most precious thing in the world.
Logic told me it was too good to be true, that I should guard my heart because once he’d had his fill, he’d move on like he always had.
But the way he was looking at me, the way he touched me—it didn’t feel like the man from the headlines. It felt like someone entirely different. Someone who wanted more than just a fleeting moment.
Someone who maybe, just maybe, might even want forever .
I mean, he’d told his interior designer to make him a house that “looked like a family could live there.”
That wasn’t something a man who intended to always be a perpetual playboy would say, was it?
Of course, the only way to know if he was actually being sincere would be to trust him—which could put my heart at risk at being hurt again. But right here in this moment, I wanted to. Against all reason, I wanted to trust him.
So, reaching up, I placed my hand gently against his chest, feeling the steady, reassuring beat of his heart beneath my palm. “You know,” I murmured, my voice soft but steady, “you’re making it really hard for me to remember why I was trying to keep my distance.”
His eyes searched mine, his expression unreadable at first. But then, a warmth bloomed in his gaze, his lips curving into the faintest hint of a smile. For a moment, the world seemed to pause, the air between us growing heavier, more charged. I could feel the tension pulling us closer, as if some unseen force was drawing me toward him.
His head dipped slightly, and my breath hitched as his lips hovered over mine, the anticipation sending a shiver down my spine.
And then, finally, he kissed me.
Softly at first, like he was testing the waters, his lips brushing against mine in a way that sent my senses reeling. But then, the gentle pressure quickly gave way to something deeper, more urgent, as though he couldn’t hold back any longer. His hands moved to my hips, pulling me closer, and I melted into him, letting myself get lost in the heat of the moment.
When he stepped forward, pressing me against the wall, a soft gasp escaped my lips. The cool surface at my back only heightened the warmth of his body against mine, firm and unyielding. I threaded my fingers into his hair, holding him close as his mouth weaved a spell over my mind and body, leaving me breathless.
His lips traveled down to my jaw, then to my neck, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses that left a trail of fire in their wake. My head tipped back against the wall, a soft sigh escaping me as his mouth found the sensitive hollow just beneath my ear. He lingered there, pressing a kiss that sent a jolt of heat straight through me, and then he continued his path downward, his mouth warm and teasing against my skin.
I clutched at his shoulders, trying to anchor myself, my breath coming in shallow gasps as he kissed along the curve of my neck, his stubble rasping lightly against me in the most delicious way.
“Ian…” His name escaped me, half a sigh, half a plea.
He murmured something low against my skin—something I couldn’t quite make out.
But the sound of his voice sent a shiver racing down my spine. His hands slipped beneath my cami, roaming higher, his thumbs grazing across my ribs as though he couldn’t decide if he wanted to hold me tighter or explore further.
And all I knew was that I wanted more. More of his touch. More of the way he was making me feel.
More of the way he made me forget everything but this moment, this connection, this overwhelming need that neither of us seemed able to resist.
But then, almost as if he could sense that I was ready to leap headfirst into uncharted waters with him, to dive into the unknown, he slowed our kisses. Guiding me instead to a soft, fluffy cloud that could carry us down gently, letting us drift toward the sandy shore instead of plunging headlong into the depths.
His lips lingered on mine, warm and unhurried, melting into something tender, something that felt like an unspoken promise. A promise that we didn’t need to race toward the horizon—that maybe we might actually have all the time in the world.
When he finally pulled back, his eyes met mine, dark and warm, filled with an emotion I wasn’t sure I was ready to name. His hand came up to cup my cheek, his thumb brushing softly against my skin as he leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to my forehead.
“Goodnight, Maddie,” he murmured. “I’ll be in here if you need anything.”
I nodded, unable to form words, as he stepped back, giving me space to slip back through the door and into my own room.
My heart was still racing as I leaned against the closed door, a hand pressed to my chest like it might help me make sense of the emotions coursing through me.
The day had been so long, so draining—full of worry and fear and raw emotion. But somehow, in the quiet of this moment, as Ian’s care and kindness settled over me, it felt like the world had steadied itself.
I finished getting ready for bed in a blissful haze, my thoughts circling back to the way he’d kissed me, the way he’d touched me as though I mattered. As though I was precious.
And as I climbed into bed beside my sleeping boy, the events of the day fading into the background, I realized that even though it had been one of the hardest days I’d faced in a long time, it didn’t feel quite so heavy anymore. With Ian by my side, somehow, it felt like everything might just be all right.