Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
Maddox
I drag my stiff body down the hallway, still reeling from my visit with Amelia.
Last night I went to her apartment because I needed a reprieve from Della’s revelation.
Discovering that my sister was raped was screwing with my mind, and I guess I got what I came for.
That’s not saying I like the turn our conversation took.
It bothers me that she thinks I would intentionally hurt her son.
Even if things didn’t work out between us, I’d never shun Dylan.
I know what it’s like to have a father who constantly disappoints you.
I also know what it’s like when another man steps up to raise you.
Granddaddy did that for me and Della. He took on the responsibility and erased all the pain our father inflicted on us.
He made us feel seen, valued, and loved.
The kitchen light hits me hard, making me wince. Della and Judy look up from the table, their conversation dying as I walk in.
“Well, look who’s up,” Judy says, smiling warmly at me. “You’re just in time for breakfast. Got a pot of fresh coffee on the counter.”
I grunt something that might pass for thanks and make a beeline for the coffeepot.
“You got in late last night,” Della says, eyes narrowing as she studies me over the rim of her mug. “Everything okay?”
I take a long sip, considering my words.
“I stopped by Amelia’s,” I finally say, keeping my voice neutral.
Della’s mouth forms a perfect ‘O’, her coffee cup suspended halfway to her lips as she stares at me from across the kitchen table.
“It’s not what you think,” I say quickly. “Dylan wants me to teach him how to ride. That’s all.”
“Mmm-hmm,” Della hums, not believing me for a second. “And you were going to give him a riding lesson late at night?
Judy bustles around the kitchen, pretending not to listen as she flips pancakes at the stove, but I notice how her spatula pauses mid-air. I love her dearly, but I really shouldn’t be having this conversation in front of her.
“It wasn’t that late,” I grunt. “And no, I wanted to ask Amelia for her permission. I sort of committed to giving Dylan the lessons without really discussing it with her.”
“Well,” Della says, setting down her mug with a decisive clink, “I think it’s nice you’re willing to help Dylan learn how to ride. And I’m sure Amelia was perfectly... agreeable.”
I take a gulp of coffee, burning my tongue in the process.
“She wasn’t,” I admit, meeting her gaze. “There’s history there, Della.”
She rolls her eyes. “Oh, brother, you think I don’t know that?”
I blink at her. “What do you mean?”
Della gives me a look and leans forward, setting down her coffee mug.
“Maddox, I walked in on you two in the barn that summer.”
The coffee in my mouth goes down the wrong pipe. I cough violently, splattering droplets across the table.
“You... what?” I finally manage, my voice strangled.
Della shrugs, passing me a napkin. “I never told Amelia because I didn’t want to embarrass her, and I figured if she or you wanted me to know, one of you would’ve told me.” She tilts her head, studying me. “But, yeah. I got an education that day.”
Judy has abandoned all pretense of not listening. She stands frozen by the stove, spatula dripping batter onto the floor.
“I’ve always wondered what happened between the two of you. It wasn’t long after that before she wound up with Russell.”
Don’t I know it.
“Nothing,” I mutter, rubbing my hand down my face. “We were over before we started.”
And that fuck Russell was there to pick up the pieces of her I broke.
“Didn’t appear that way to me. Something definitely started in that barn that day.”
“Jesus Christ, Della. Can you not? That was a private moment.”
“Not private enough,” Della counters. “Next time, maybe try closing the tack room door. Especially if Dylan is going to be wandering around here.”
My face burns hot. “That’s just it. She wants nothing to do with me, and she’s not really too keen on Dylan spending time with me either.”
Della’s brows pinch together in confusion. “Why not?”
“She thinks I’m going to disappoint him,”
Realization floods my sister’s features. “Russell really put her through it, Maddox, and I’m guessing Dylan felt some of that too. If you’re serious about her, then you need to be patient. She’ll come around.”
“You sound sure of that.”
She shrugs. “I think deep down Amelia has always wanted the fairytale. The question is, do you?”
“I want her.”
Period. End of story.
I want to give her the life she deserves and love her better than she thinks is possible.
Della and Judy exchange a look but say nothing.
“I’m willing to put in the work.” Pushing away from the table, I drain the rest of my coffee before walking the empty mug to the sink. “I gotta make a call to Lucifer. Tell him there’s been a change in our agreement.”
I set the mug in the sink and turn to my sister. “We’re still on the same page, right?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll check in with you later.” I glance back at Judy. “I’ll take a raincheck on breakfast.”
I head out the back door, letting the screen slam behind me as I stride across the yard toward the barn. The morning sun already beats down on my shoulders, promising another scorcher of a day. It’s too early in the season for it to be this hot.
Inside the barn, I pull out my phone and dial Lucifer’s number. My pulse quickens as I listen to it ring, knowing this isn’t going to be a pleasant conversation.
“Maddox,” his gruff voice answers. “I’ve been waiting for your call. You sure now how to keep things suspenseful.
“I apologize. It’s been a rough couple of days.”
“I heard about your sister getting bit by the rattler. Also heard she got discharged, so I’m assuming you got news for me.”
“Yeah.” I clear my throat. “But it’s not what you’re hoping for. Della’s not selling her share.”
A long beat of silence stretches between us, broken only by the sound of Lucifer’s heavy breathing.
“That wasn’t the arrangement,” he finally says, his voice dangerously low.
“I know that.” I pace the length of the barn. “But she’s my sister, and I can’t force her to sell if she doesn’t want to. This is her home, and I’m not going to steal it out from under her.”
“You sure as hell were singing a different tune the other night.”
“I know, but that was before I spoke with her. Some things have come to light, and I can’t ignore them,” I pause in front of one of the stalls. “We gotta figure something else out. I know we can make this happen, you just need to be a little more flexible with me.”
Another long silence.
“I need to talk to my brothers about this,” he says finally. “But I’m not happy, Maddox. Not happy at all.”
“I get that. Just... see what they think. Call me back when—”
The sound of tires on gravel cuts me off. Through the open barn door, I spot Amelia’s car pulling into the drive.
“I gotta go,” I tell Lucifer. “Call me when you’ve talked to the club.”
I hang up before he can respond and step out of the barn just as Amelia slams her car door shut.
She’s wearing tight jeans and a simple white t-shirt that stretches across her tits.
She looks good. Too good. But she’d look better naked, sprawled out in one of the stalls, hands tied just the way she likes.
I’m so fucked it isn’t funny.
She marches toward me with purpose, chin up, shoulders squared. Something about the determined set of her jaw makes my mouth go dry.
“Morning,” I call out, trying to sound casual. “Wasn’t expecting to see you today.”
“I’ve been thinking,” she says, stopping a few feet away from me. “About Dylan’s riding lessons.”
“I’m listening.”
“I’ll let you teach him,” she says, crossing her arms over her chest. “But only on Saturday mornings. I’m at the farmer’s market then, and he gets bored just sitting around my booth all day.”
I try to hide my surprise. Saturdays aren’t ideal, but I’m not about to tell her that. I’ll take whatever scraps she’s willing to give.
“Saturday mornings work for me.”
“Good.” She nods. “I’ll have to drop him off at seven so I have time to set up my booth before the market open. Will that be a problem?”
“I’m up before the sun. It’s no problem at all.”
Another nod. “I usually finish up by noon. I’ll shoot straight here afterward.”
“That’s plenty of time for a beginner lesson.”
Hell, an hour would’ve been sufficient, but if she wants to give me several hours with her son, I’ll take it. I can show him the ins and outs of the ranch too. It won’t be long before Dylan is a cowboy.
“Don’t be too eager, Maddox. I have conditions,” she says, taking a step closer.
Of course she does. I bite back a smile. “Hit me with them.”
“He learns the basics. Proper mounting, proper posture, how to handle the reins. No fancy tricks, no showing off, no galloping across fields.” Her eyes narrow as she pokes her finger against the wall of my chest. “And absolutely no jumping.”
“Amelia, I would never put Dylan in danger.” I hold her gaze steadily. “He’s safe with me.”
Something flickers across her face. “I want to believe that.”
“Then believe it.” I take a step toward her, closing the distance between us.
She swallows hard, and I watch the movement of her throat. My gaze catches on the bruise marring her neck. It’s faded some over the days, and all that does is make me want to leave another one.
“One more thing,” she says, her voice suddenly firm again. “If you’re going to be in Dylan’s life, then whatever this is between us—” she gestures back and forth “—it needs to stay strictly platonic.”
I raise an eyebrow.
Here we go again.
“Define ‘strictly platonic.’”
“You know exactly what I mean.” Her cheeks flush pink. “No more... truck incidents.”
“Are pool tables off limits too?”
She rolls her eyes. “Yes. All of it. No more orgasms. No flirting at the bar. No popping up at my apartment unannounced. No trying to prove things are different now. No... anything. We keep it civil, for Dylan’s sake.”
I study her face, noting the way she won’t quite meet my eyes now. She’s not as resolved about this as she wants me to believe. I can work with that.
“If that’s what you want,” I say slowly.
“It is.”
“Fine.” I step back, giving her space. “Strictly platonic it is.”
She exhales, like she’s been holding her breath. “Good. That’s... good.”
An awkward silence falls between us.
“I should go,” she says, glancing back at her car. “I have errands to run before work.”
I nod. “See you Saturday then.”
She turns to leave but I snag her wrist, my thumb tracing over her soft skin. “I’m going to need your number.”
Lifting her gaze to mine, she narrows her eyes. “What for?”
“Amelia, you’re leaving your son in my care. I’m going to need your number in case of anything.”
“Right,” she says, reaching into her back pocket for her phone. “Then I should add, no texting or calling unless it’s about Dylan to the list of conditions.”
I fight a smile and take the phone from her. I plug in my number and store it as a contact before hitting send. My phone rings a moment later, then I end the call and hand her back the phone. “There.”
She huffs out a breath, stuffing the phone back into her pocket. Without another word, or a glance in my direction, she spins around. She makes it two steps before she seems to think better of leaving and turns back to me.
“Thank you for doing this for Dylan,” she murmurs.
“I’m happy to do it, Amelia.”
I may want her, but I’d never use her son to get her. I genuinely want to get to know Dylan, and if I’m lucky, I’ll be able to teach him more than just how to ride a horse. I’ll teach him that good men stay the course.
She nods, then turns once again, her hips swaying provocatively as she makes her way to her car. I watch her drive away, and as I do, I wonder how long this arrangement will last before one of us breaks.
Platonic, my ass.
There’s nothing platonic about the way I feel about Amelia.
There never has been, and there never will be.