Chapter 24 #2
Ivory drags her feet as she crosses the room, and I’m damn proud of her when she walks right up to March and extends her hand.
I cover my mouth to hide my laughter when he glares down at it like her hand is smeared with shit.
I can’t hear what she says to him, but when he snatches her hand and yanks her toward the center of the ballroom, I assume he accepted her invitation.
When they reach an empty spot between the dancing couples, he pulls her forward, slamming her against his chest—all the while sneering down at her…
…with Roman scowling at both of them.
But Maddox nudges Roman, whispering something in his ear that eases the older man’s frown.
Too bad I left my phone in my purse at our table because I’d love to snap a photo of Ivory and March together.
Also, I’d love, love, love to capture Scarlett’s unbridled fury when Maddox breaks away from Roman—and from her—without even a half-hearted glance in her direction.
She might as well be invisible, and the one thing Scarlett McQueen could never tolerate was being ignored.
And Maddox, bless him, certainly gave her the cut direct.
A familiar flutter arises within me as I watch him walk toward me, his strides confident and determined.
I place a hand over my racing heart and hope I never lose this thrill when I look at him.
He makes a pit stop at the conductor of the ten-piece orchestra.
The stately musical director doesn’t miss a beat, waving that baton to maintain the tempo as he nods at whatever Maddox is saying.
And then Maddox is on the move again, his arrogant grin gliding over me like a caress.
When he’s directly in front of me—his eyes shimmering gold and the earthy hint of his vetiver cologne scenting the air around him—he extends his hand to me. “Dance with me, Malice.”
“Took you long enough to ask,” I tease as I slide my hand in his.
He feathers his lips over my knuckles in a whispery kiss. “Cheeky wench.”
“Always,” I retort as he leads me to the dance floor. People make way for us, and I’m positive Maddox’s reputation has them parting as we pass. And then I’m swept up in his arms, our fingers interlaced, with a breathy, “Maddox…” falling from me when the orchestra plays “These Arms of Mine.”
His favorite song, the one that reminds him of me the most.
Maddox softly sings along as we sway to the hauntingly beautiful words, the lyrics all about yearning, burning, to be with the person you love.
I couldn’t listen to this Otis Redding masterpiece for three years, but hearing it now, having Maddox sing it for me…
has me blinking back tears as I gaze up at the man who so freely gives everything of himself to me.
Who demands I give all of myself to him.
This man, who tried everything to protect me from myself and who waited for me to heal enough to come home. To come back to him.
I lay my cheek against his chest, knowing each beat of his heart is for me. “I love you, Maddox,” I whisper, unsure if he hears me over the music.
He does, squeezing my fingers and his arm around my waist. “I’ve always loved you, Alice.” He kisses the top of my head. “I’ll love you until the end of time.”
“That’s a long time.”
He twirls me. Dips me and holds me, bent over his arm.
Kisses me breathless right here in front of everyone.
“Forever isn’t long enough for us.” No, it’s not.
A million lifetimes still wouldn’t be long enough for me to love this man, and when he straightens me and twirls once more, laughing, I crash into his chest. “God, I missed that sound.”
“What sound?”
“Your laughter. You need to do it more often.”
“I will, I promise.” The flush starts in my heart and flows through me like a warm river. I take a mental snapshot of this moment—this perfect moment—needing to preserve it, and when the tears finally fall, he tenderly wipes them away.
“No more crying, Alice,” he rasps.
I shake my head. “No, no more crying.”
We stay like this, wrapped in each other’s arms, swaying to the music as if we’re the only two people in the room.
But when I catch sight of Ivory and March still on the dance floor, I see how tightly he’s holding her.
At how he’s staring down at her like she’s his favorite meal and he’s starving, refusing to take a single bite.
Ivory glances at me, a broad smile breaking out across her face.
I wink back at her as the song draws to an end.
The very second Maddox and I untangle ourselves, I groan out a curse at my mother barreling toward us. “Annnnd, here she comes.”
“Who?” Maddox turns and spots my mother weaving through the crowd. “Oh.”
“Yep, oh,” I sigh. “I swear to God, it’s like she’s compelled to ruin every pleasant moment in my life.”
Maddox’s kiss is quick, a peck really. “Only if you allow her to.”
“Clearly, you’ve never faced the full blast of Katherine’s temper.”
Katherine comes flying up to us, her brown curls floating around her surgically altered face.
I’m all for a nip and tuck, but she looks filled to the point of absurdity.
Her stretched skin looks positively painful, and when she practically skids to a halt, the ebony silk of her clingy, mermaid-style gown swishes around her ankles. “I’d like a word with you.”
“No shit,” I drawl.
Katherine Wentworth hates anything and everything that gives me joy, so when she nails her hands on her hips and throws Maddox a scathing sneer, I’m not surprised by her open rancor. “Do you know what she told Stanley Meyer?”
“That old fart?” Maddox drawls, clearly unaffected by my mother’s disdain. “Other than ‘go fuck yourself,’ I’m fresh out of guesses.”
My mother’s entire face flames an angry shade of splotchy red. She grabs me by the arm and hauls me off the dance floor. Maddox follows us, and once we’re out of earshot of her guests, she declares, “Alice told Mr. Meyer she has chlamydia.”
I burst out laughing, but Maddox feigns horror and cups his crotch. “Oh, shit, does that mean I have it now, too?”
“You are abominable!” she hisses.
“True.” He drapes an arm over my shoulders, hugging me against his side. “But Alice likes me this way, and that’s all that matters.”
“She would,” my mother spits out. Then, “Alice Anne Knightly, you will curb your disrespect when speaking with my friends.”
First of all, Katherine Gale Knightly does not have friends. She amassed a collection of powerful tools she can use to advance her social status.
“Or what, Mother? You’ll lecture me on what a disappointment I am?
We’ve already had that conversation, ad nauseam and at length.
Besides,” I add with a smirk, “Stanley’s a pervert who asked my cleavage if I wanted to dance.
I figured it was necessary to give him an incentive to stop staring at my tits and to leave me alone. ”
Maddox howls out a laugh, which my mother doesn’t seem to appreciate. At all. “A no would have sufficed,” she huffs.
“Probably, but sarcasm seemed the better choice,” I drawl.
“Or you could have told me, and I would have given Stanley a permanent incentive to stay far the fuck away from you,” Maddox chimes in with way too much glee.
My mother jabs a finger in his face. “You stay out of this. In fact, I’d like to speak to my daughter alone.”
As if I’m not going to relate every word she says to me the second she’s done lecturing me.
Or more likely, berating me.
But Maddox doesn’t walk away until I lay my palm on his chest. “It’s okay, this shouldn’t take long. I’ll be fine.”
“Fine, fine? Or f-i-n-e, fine?” he asks, saying the words differently. Stressing each letter to see if I’ll genuinely be okay or if he needs to hover close by because my mother always has a way of pushing every one of my buttons.
“The Merriam-Webster definition,” I assure him.
“Of course, she’ll be fine. I’m her mother, for Christ’s sake,” Katherine snaps, as if she hasn’t spent my entire life belittling me.
Maddox ignores her, kissing me. With a bob of his chin, he gestures to the far side of the room. “I’ll be at the bar. Love you.”
I don’t think I’ll ever get used to how easily those two words flow from him. “Love you, too.” Then my mother wraps her clawed hand around my biceps and yanks me toward the patio. “Stop pulling at me.”
But she doesn’t, and it’s only once we clear the patio and march down the five steps that lead to the garden that she says, “I won’t tolerate this insolent behavior from you.”
“Hate to break it to you, but I’m a whole adult now. The days when you could dictate my behavior are long gone.” My temper quickly on the rise, I add, “Especially after you were fucking another man the night my dad died.”
There.
I said it.
That ugly truth is finally out in the open.
So was I, but Katherine was Luther’s wife, and loyalty, faithfulness, and all that good stuff are—if I recall correctly—a giant part of the whole marriage thing.
But this wife…? The second the going got tough, she got going.
I can never—ever—forgive her for making a fool of my dad, then abandoning him when he needed her most.
My mother freezes and drops her grip on my arm. She lifts her chin with indignation, and God, how I hate her habit of glaring down her nose at me. “How dare you judge me!”
“That was my dad you cheated on!”
“And I’m your mother,” she hisses.
“You never once acted like it. All my life, you treated me like a burden.” I let out an almost hysterical laugh. “Do you know, when I was little, how I’d pray to God—like actually get on my knees and say a prayer each night—that one day, you’d love me?”
“There you go, always with the drama. Poor you. Poor Alice.” She rolls her eyes, then singsongs, “My mommy never loved me.” Sneering, she adds the final nail in the coffin of our relationship. “Grow the fuck up, Alice.”
Wow.
Just…
Wow.
“Fuck you,” I bite out between clenched teeth.