43. Maddie
43
MADDIE
I couldn’t stop smiling as I watched Ian and his friends carry the last of my things into the cottage on Wednesday night. Miles and Bash were taking boxes two at a time like they were weightless, Owen was hoisting a bookshelf on his shoulder, and Ian was unloading the heavy furniture with Evan, both of them barely breaking a sweat.
I hadn’t been prepared for this level of muscle, to be honest. All of Ian’s friends were ripped—absurdly so. Especially Evan, who, despite being freshly back from his honeymoon, looked like he’d spent those two weeks lifting cars for fun.
“Where did you find these guys?” I teased Ian as he passed by, carrying a chair in each hand like they were folding lawn chairs.
“Don’t let their muscles fool you. They’re all soft on the inside,” Ian said with a smirk. Then he called out to Bash and Miles, “Watch the walls! We don’t want Maddie regretting letting us help.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it, boss,” Bash shot back, dropping his boxes with an exaggerated thud.
By the time everything was unloaded, my storage unit was empty, and I was blinking back tears of gratitude. I didn’t even have to ask for help—they’d all just shown up with Ian and done it with the kind of easy camaraderie that made me feel like part of their group, even if I wasn’t.
“Okay, pizza and drinks are ready!” I called from the front porch, pointing to the boxes of pizza I’d set up on a folding table.
The guys gathered quickly, grabbing slices, beers, and waters, and sprawled themselves out in the yard like it was a lazy summer afternoon. Grant was already settled on the grass, devouring a slice of pepperoni and making friends with Miles—who I’d just learned was a literal NFL quarterback—by challenging him to a race across the lawn. I smiled at the scene, warmth filling me as I went to grab some more napkins from a box inside.
I stood in the little kitchen, sifting through the haphazardly labeled boxes until I found what I needed. The window above the sink was open, letting in the evening breeze, and as I pulled out the napkins, I heard the low rumble of voices drifting through from outside.
“Okay, okay,” Owen was saying, his voice laced with humor. “So none of us have dates for Carter and Ava’s wedding next weekend, huh? That’s pathetic. Well, except for Mr. Honeymoon over there.”
“That’s right,” Evan replied, his tone smug. “I’ve got my plus-one for life. But I’m sure you’ll all follow in my footsteps eventually.”
“You think?” Bash said, a challenge in his voice. “Who do we think is next, then?”
There was a beat of silence before Owen chimed in. “Well, I wish it was me. But apparently, my future wife has been praying I don’t meet anyone before I meet her because it’s working. Seriously, she can stop praying now. Like, please, it’s working a little too well. ”
The group erupted into laughter, and I couldn’t help but grin to myself. Owen really was a cutie. If I had a younger sister who wasn’t already married, I’d totally try setting her up with him.
I grabbed the napkins and turned to head outside, but Bash’s voice made me pause in my tracks.
“I’m pretty sure Ian’s on his way to matrimony, though,” Bash said casually, his words tinged with mischief. “From the way he’s been looking at Maddie all night.”
My heart stopped.
Still holding the napkins, I froze, eyes widening as I hovered near the window. I peeked out through the curtain just enough to see Ian’s reaction.
And there he was, standing in the yard, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips.
And he didn’t deny it.
Didn’t even deflect.
“Hopefully, I’m lucky enough,” Ian said finally, his voice quiet but steady, like the words carried more weight than he was willing to show. “Just gotta convince her I’m not a complete doofus after introducing her to you idiots.”
The guys erupted in laughter, teasing him with a chorus of “Oh, you’ve got it bad, man,” and “Ian Hastings, smitten? Never thought I’d see the day.”
“Yeah…” he admitted, rubbing a hand along his jaw. “I was pretty much a goner the first time I saw her.”
The words hit me like a bolt of lightning, sending warmth rushing through me, melting me from the inside out.
“But she’s got a kid,” Bash said, his tone curious but not unkind. “Would you really want to be an instant dad?”
The yard fell quiet, all the joking and banter fading as the question hung in the air.
I held my breath, suddenly terrified of his answer, because it felt like the kind of moment that could shatter everything.
But Ian didn’t hesitate, his voice steady and sure as he said, “I know it’s probably strange for you guys to hear me say it, but if they’d take me, I’d love to be Grant’s stepdad. He’s the best.”
I pressed a hand to my chest, my heart thudding so hard I was sure they’d hear it all the way outside.
Ian’s words—simple and honest—knocked the air right out of me.
My hand pressed lightly against the fabric of my shirt as if that could steady the intense swell of emotions rushing through me.
He meant it.
I could hear it in his voice—no hesitation, no careful phrasing, no joke to deflect the gravity of what he’d just said. Just pure honesty.
My throat tightened, and I closed my eyes for a beat, needing a moment to pull myself together. How had this man—this unexpected, wonderful man—come into my life and completely changed everything? Not just for me, but for Grant, too?
The guys’ voices shifted to another topic, their laughter easy and natural, and I took a steadying breath before stepping outside, hoping my face didn’t reveal that I’d just overheard their conversation. “I finally found some napkins if anyone needs them,” I said, placing the stack next to the paper plates and pizza boxes.
“Perfect timing,” Bash said, reaching for another slice.
Once the guys had finished their pizza and drained their drinks, they turned their attention back to me. “Anything else you need, Maddie?” Miles asked, brushing his hands on his jeans. “We’re happy to help.”
I glanced around, taking in the stacks of boxes and scattered furniture, and shook my head. “I think I’m good now. I just need to figure out where to put everything, but you guys have done more than enough already. Thank you so much for your help.”
“No problem at all,” Owen said with a grin. “And hey, don’t hesitate to call if you need more muscle. We’re just a phone call away.”
Ian gave each of his friends a quick fist bump as they said their goodbyes, and soon it was just the three of us—Ian, Grant, and me.
I grabbed a slice of pizza and took a seat on the front porch, savoring the quiet hum of the evening as Grant swung happily on the little wooden swing in the yard. There was something so perfect about seeing him like that, laughing and carefree, and I leaned back against the railing with a contented sigh.
Ian joined me, settling into the space beside me, and for a moment, we just sat there in companionable silence.
“Do you have any plans for July thirty-first?” he asked suddenly, his voice casual but tinged with something more.
I furrowed my brow, thinking, before reaching for my phone like I needed to check my nonexistent social calendar.
“It’s a Saturday,” he said, watching me with a faint smile.
“Well, if it’s a Saturday, then I’ll probably just be hanging out here alone since Grant will be at his dad’s,” I replied, setting my phone back down. “Why do you ask?”
“It’s Carter and Ava’s wedding that day, and I don’t have a plus-one yet,” Ian said, shifting slightly on the wooden porch. “And I was wondering if you’d mind going with me.” He paused, his gaze steady as he added, “As my date.”
“As your date…” I repeated slowly, letting the words hang between us as I pretended to consider them.
His smile deepened, and there was something so charming about his confidence mixed with that hint of vulnerability. “I know we’ve been spending a lot of time together,” he said, “but I haven’t actually asked you on a real date yet. So I was hoping you’d be up for it. You know, if going on a date with your boss is okay with you.”
I couldn’t hold back the smile that spread across my face. “I think it’s more than okay with me.”
His expression lit up with that boyish grin I’d grown so fond of. “So you’ll go with me, then?”
“I’d love to,” I said softly, feeling my heart flutter. “It’ll give me an excuse to wear that twelve-thousand-dollar dress I have sitting in my closet.”
“Yes!” He laughed, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “I’ve been kind of hoping you’d wear it to work one of these days, just so I could see it again. But I guess wearing it to the wedding is probably a better idea.”
“Yeah,” I teased, “I mean, it’s not like we don’t already have enough people at work wondering if I’m just there to get my hands on your money. Me showing up in that dress would only confirm their suspicions.”
“Has it been bad?” His brow furrowed with concern. “I thought everyone was good about everything. Thought it settled when we squashed those pregnancy rumors and it came out that Margot was the one who leaked the video of Slade. If not, I can talk to Marsha and issue another public statement.”
“No, it’s been fine.” I waved a hand, brushing it off. “Everyone’s actually been great. That was just me being insecure.”
He nodded, seeming reassured, and I finished off my pizza before standing. “I need to grab something to drink. Want anything?”
“Sure,” he said, leaning back lazily against the railing. “I’ll have whatever you’re having.”
“I was just going to make a Moscow mule.”
“Sounds perfect.”
I went inside, pulling limes and ginger beer out of the fridge and setting them on the counter. As I started slicing up the lime, I heard the soft creak of the floorboards behind me, followed by the unmistakable warmth of Ian’s presence.
Before I could turn around, his hands found my hips, his touch gentle yet firm as he stepped up behind me. My breath caught as he leaned down, his body pressing softly against mine. I felt him nuzzle the curve of my neck, his lips brushing just below my ear.
A shiver ran through me, and I closed my eyes briefly, a smile tugging at my lips as I savored the feeling.
I liked this—Ian pulling me close, touching me like he couldn’t help himself.
We hadn’t talked about what was happening between us, hadn’t defined it, but this…this said enough.
It said he wanted me.
And I liked that I didn’t have to question it.
Tilting my head slightly, I let out a soft laugh. “You know, you’re very good at distracting me.”
“Is that a bad thing?” he murmured, pressing a light kiss to the spot just below my ear.
“Not at all,” I whispered, smiling as I turned my head slightly to catch his gaze.
For a moment, we just stared at each other, the air thickening, charged with unspoken words neither of us seemed ready to say.
And then Ian closed the distance between our lips and kissed me.
Slowly at first, his lips brushing against mine with a tenderness that made my knees weak. My breath hitched as I turned toward him, my hands finding the front of his shirt to steady myself. But when I kissed him back—deeper, more certain—something shifted.
His hands slid up from my hips to my waist, pulling me flush against him as the kiss grew more passionate, more consuming. A low moan escaped him, almost like he’d been holding back and couldn’t anymore. I felt the counter at my back as he moved closer, the space between us disappearing entirely.
He reached out, sweeping a box aside on the counter with a soft scrape of cardboard, and before I knew it, his hands gripped my waist again—strong, steady—and lifted me effortlessly. I let out a quiet gasp as he set me on the counter, my legs naturally bracketing his hips as he stepped between them, his mouth never leaving mine.
And then there was nothing but the kiss. The heat of it. The way his hands roamed—up my thighs, over my waist, to cup my face as if he couldn’t decide where to touch me next because he wanted it all.
My fingers tangled in his shirt, pulling him closer, wanting to feel more of him, to explore. My hands skimmed over his shoulders, down the broad planes of his chest, and I ached to slip them beneath the fabric, to feel the hard muscles beneath his bare skin.
His lips traveled down to the corner of my mouth, along my jaw, before finding that sensitive spot just below my ear. A soft sigh escaped me, and I tilted my head, giving him more access as a deep flutter built low in my stomach.
But then?—
Footsteps. Small ones. On the porch.
Grant.
Reality snapped back into place like a splash of cold water, and we both froze, our breathing heavy and uneven as we broke apart like two guilty teenagers about to get caught sneaking around.
“Oh my gosh,” I whispered, my cheeks blazing as I slid off the counter in a rush. I straightened my shirt, smoothed my hair, and shot Ian a wide-eyed look as if to say, What just happened?
Ian scrubbed a hand over his face and took a step back, looking equally disheveled and entirely too attractive for his own good.
The screen door creaked, and Grant came bounding into the kitchen, completely oblivious to the lingering heat in the air.
“Mom! I just saw an eagle!” he burst out, his face alight with pure excitement as he pointed back outside.
“An eagle? That’s amazing!” I said, my voice pitching a little too high as I quickly tucked a strand of hair behind my ear—desperately trying to look like I hadn’t been just seconds away from ripping Ian’s shirt off.
“It was huge !” Grant spread his arms as wide as they could go, practically bouncing on his toes. “Like, this big!”
“That’s awesome, bud,” Ian said, his voice smooth and casual—far steadier than mine—as he reached out to ruffle Grant’s hair. “Eagles don’t show up every day, so you’ve got pretty great timing.” Then with a teasing grin, he glanced at me and added under his breath, “Honestly, the kid’s got a knack for showing up exactly when I shouldn’t be trusted.”
“Ian!” I hissed, shooting him a scandalized look that was half-laughter, half-plea.
He shrugged, entirely unrepentant. “I’m just saying…”
I glanced quickly at Grant, who, thankfully, had his nose pressed against the window again, scanning the sky for his elusive eagle. I let out a small breath of relief, but Ian’s grin only widened, sending another rush of warmth straight through me.
Yeah, great timing , I thought wryly. But maybe, hopefully, someday soon we’d find time—real time—where we wouldn’t get interrupted.
And if Ian kept looking at me the way he was looking at me now?
Well, I was pretty sure I’d have no complaints about how that time would be spent.