23. Chapter 23
Chapter twenty-three
Maddox
Five years ago
After spending all day mending the fence between the Mayson Ranch and the Double B Ranch, I'm exhausted. Even after a grueling day, I was conned into spending an unreasonable number of hours at poker night in the bunk house until Clyde took all of my fucking money. It’s almost one in the morning and the only thing calling my name is my bed. I toss my phone down on my dresser, about to flip off the light when a streak of blonde hair flashes past my bedroom window. There’s only one blonde haired beauty that would be roaming around this time of night. Peering out the glass, I see Ivy practically sprinting across the pasture to the tank. I curse under my breath when I spot the vodka bottle hanging from her fingers.
My legs are carrying me across the room in less than a second, my jeans zipped, and a t-shirt over my head next. I’ve learned that when Ivy drinks, she’s usually upset. Which isn’t often, and I’m not sure what shit my brother has pulled this time.
Five minutes later I’ve made it down to the tank in the pasture behind the barns. Ivy stands at the edge in nothing but her underwear and bra. I avert my eyes, trying not to notice the way the cheeks of her ass peek out from beneath the blue lace material.
“Ivy,” I call as I climb out of the side by side. My tone is borderline angry. Which I am. Not with her. With the circumstances.
She glances over her shoulder. “Wanna swim with me?”
No. I need to stay as far away as humanly possible.
“No.” I scrub a hand over my face as she wades out into the water.
“Fine. Then go home.” Step by step she walks into the water, and as if my own damn limbs can’t follow my brain’s response, I feel my fingers flip open the button of my jeans.
Once I’m down to my boxers, I’m following her out into the water like a damn magnet.
She dips her head back, wetting her golden strands before she spins to face me.
Her eyes are glassy, and red rimmed. She’s been crying. I grit my teeth, refraining from wrapping her in my arms and demanding to know who made her cry. Like I don’t already know.
“What happened?” I ask, my slow movements causing the water to slosh up against my navel.
“It’s over,” she breathes out.
“Over?”
She opens her eyes, a tear falling. “Brady. I…” she runs her hands over the ripples in the water. “I spotted his truck in the parking lot at the rodeo grounds. He told me he had to work for Claude this evening. I just had a feeling, you know?”
Fuck.
“My feeling was correct.” She lets out a humorless laugh. “He was balls deep inside some brunet in the back seat.”
My chest burns. My hands itching to touch her. My words threatening to spill out that I’d never put her through that. I’d never hurt her like he has.
“I’m sorry, darlin” I tell her. “I’m sorry he hurt you.”
She shakes her head with tears steadily falling. “That’s the thing, Maddox.”
My hands twitch. God, why do I love when she says my name?
“I’m not hurt.” She peers up at the sky before meeting my eyes. “I’m relieved.”
I take a step closer. Damn these feet.
“I’m relieved that I don’t have to be the one to break his heart. I don’t have to tell him the truth.”
“And what’s the truth?” I’m standing right in front of her now. One more lazy slide of my feet against this thick mud and my chest would brush hers.
“That I don’t love him that way,” she whispers. “Not the way that I….” She trails off and paddles back.
The way she what? My chest tightens as her hands come to her temples.
“I don’t feel good.” She stumbles and my arms shoot out to steady her. Another stumble has her falling into my chest.
“How much did you drink?” I ask, wrapping my arm around her waist.
Her answer slices right through me. “Enough to make the guilt go away.”
I haul her to me, then cradle her against my bare skin, before I’m carrying her to the ATV.
When she passes out against my shoulder on the way back to the cabin, I carry her inside. A better man would put her on the couch. Cover her with a blanket and climb in his own bed. But I never said I was a better man. So, I place her in the spot next to where I sleep then lay down next to her. I stare up at the ceiling with my hands secured behind my head, listening to her soft breaths. Then I do something I’ve never done before. I roll over, tugging her close so my heartbeat rests against her spine. Then I whisper my confessions. Even though she won’t hear a single word.
I won’t let anyone ever hurt you again.
I’ve wanted to hold you like this for so long.
I can’t breathe when you walk into the room.
Am I a bad guy for wanting you? When you didn't belong to me?