Mental Whiplash
Delaney
By now, I was dying of curiosity. "Just to be clear, this was your cancelled wedding, right?"
Something unreadable crossed his face. "Yes."
"Cancelled by you? Or by her?"
His gaze met mine. "Does it matter?"
How could it not? "Of course it matters. I'm trying to figure something out."
"Which is…?"
"Well…I guess…whether somebody broke your heart or you broke somebody else's."
"Trust me," he said, sounding far too jaded. "Nobody's heart was broken."
I didn't believe it. Either Maddox was downplaying his own pain or minimizing someone else's.
I wasn't even sure which was worse.
If he was pining over the girl who got away, that would be a tough act for anyone to follow. But what if it was the opposite? What if he'd left someone devastated and refused to accept that he'd hurt her?
Either way, it would be a glaring red flag for anyone who found herself falling for him. And yes, embarrassingly, that someone was me, which of course, made no sense.
I barely knew him.
I was still sorting through my feelings when Maddox said, "I know what you're thinking."
Good Lord. I sure hoped not. "Really? What?"
"You're wondering whether you should feel bad for me – or worried for the next 'bride' who crosses my path."
At that word – bride, dripping with sarcasm – I tried not to flinch. But it was hard not to. In my mind, I could totally picture her, a stunning woman in white, waiting for her groom. And not just any groom – Maddox, who, honestly, seemed like a pretty incredible catch.
He was obviously successful – and beyond sexy, too. But even more than that, he was a catch on the inside – smart, funny, and thoughtful in all kinds of little ways.
How would it feel to lose a groom like that?
My heart clenched at the thought.
When I made no reply, Maddox said with a smile, "You can deny it if you want, but it's written all over your face."
I tried to smile back. "Well, I never claimed to have a poker face."
"A good thing, because I'd be cleaning you out."
I couldn't even tell if he was teasing. There was something new in his voice, something colder and harder that I prayed had nothing to do with me.
The knot in my stomach tightened. "So…when you say a cancelled wedding, do you mean like…a broken engagement?"
"No."
I forced a laugh. "So…you already had a caterer, huh?"
"Yes."
I winced. "And what about the food?"
"What about it?"
"It wasn't…like…already made?" I tried not to swallow. "Was it?"
"Probably."
"And warm? Like…as in ready to serve?"
"Maybe."
"What, you don't know for sure?"
"I guess it depends on the dish."
Stupidly, I said, "Well, if it was lobster bisque, let's hope it was warm. Have you ever had it cold? I mean, it's still good, but…" I let my words trail off as I realized how irrelevant they were to the topic at hand.
But this whole subject was making me nervous.
I wasn't even sure why.
Instead of going straight for the cancelled wedding, I should've asked about his other secret – the favor for a friend. At least that secret would have nothing to do with me or my own jumbled feelings.
On the sofa, Maddox remained utterly silent, as if waiting for me to process everything he'd said.
I let out a resigned sigh. "But I guess soup isn't the point, huh?"
With a wry smile, he replied, "Hey, I could talk about soup all day."
I scoffed. "Yeah, right. Because then, you wouldn't have to share your deep, dark secrets."
"So…" His tone grew teasing. "What do you think of tomato?"
Nice try. And yet, I couldn't stop myself from playing along. "Tomato bisque? Or tomato soup?"
"You tell me."
"Honestly? I like both, but I'd still rather hear the rest of your story." I searched his face for clues. "So I'm guessing you were the one who cancelled?"
Looking slightly curious, he asked, "Why do you say that?"
I almost laughed. "Well, who would cancel on you?"
If he was flattered, he didn't show it. "Some might think the opposite. Who would cancel on her."
Once again, I imagined the bride in question. "You mean, because she was really nice? Or really pretty?"
He looked at me for a long moment. "Who says someone can't be both?"
In my mind, I could practically see her. "So…she was pretty and nice?"
"No." His gaze dipped to my lips. "But you are."
My breath caught, and for one terrifying second, I forgot all about the cancelled wedding.
I forgot about my questions.
I forgot about warning bells entirely.
But then, with a titanic effort, I shook off my stupefaction to confess, "If you're trying to distract me, I'm pretty sure it's working."
His eyebrows lifted. "Pretty sure?"
"Okay, really sure." But then I couldn't help but laugh at least a little. "You're quite the flatterer. You know that, right?"
"It's not flattery if it's true. What, you don't believe me?"
Actually, I didn't. Growing up, Tessa had always been the pretty one. And the nice one. I wasn't exactly the troll in the basement, but Tessa had always done both just a little better.
Under Maddox's penetrating gaze, I blew out a long, ragged breath. "Well, if that isn't a loaded question."
"How so?"
Forget the family baggage. I stuck with a universal truth. "Because no matter how I reply, I'm doomed. I'm either calling you a liar or calling myself conceited."
"Conceited how?"
"Well, I'd have to be conceited to call myself pretty and nice, right?"
"Except you weren't the one who said it." He held my gaze. "I did."
His words warmed my heart, and I couldn't resist teasing him. "Are you sure you're not just trying to distract me?"
He leaned forward a fraction. "You want me to?"
Already, I could think of a million ways he could do just that. He could lean in a few more inches and press his lips to mine, making me completely forget that I was supposed to be interrogating him.
While he was at it, he could pull me onto his lap and ruin my ability to form any coherent thought whatsoever. He could slide a hand along the small of my back, and I'd probably forget my own name. Never mind the cancelled wedding.
Butterflies swarmed in my stomach. And I hadn't even gotten to the naked stuff.
My voice came out oddly breathless as I asked, "You mean…distract me? How would you do that?"
In a low voice, he asked, "Do you want the safe way? Or the dangerous way?"
My thoughts were already dangerous, so I figured I'd better start slow and work my way up. "How about the safe way?" But then I quickly added, "Well, for starters, anyway."
"Alright." He paused as if considering his options. "I could light the game on fire."
I let out a startled laugh. "What?"
"Hey, you asked for the safe one."
I narrowed my eyes. "So, what's the dangerous option?"
Again, his gaze drifted to my lips. Softly, he asked, "You can't guess?"
Wow. And now I was looking at his lips. They looked infinitely kissable, and my voice was nearly a whisper as I confessed, "I can guess a little."
The moment held, and I was already kissing him in my mind when he surprised me by pulling back to say, "But you know what?"
"What?"
"You deserve some answers."
Talk about mental whiplash. And now I felt slightly foolish, because for a moment there, I was oh-so ready to be distracted – and not by a flaming Monopoly board.
I cleared my throat. "Right. I guess I did ask for them." I paused to regroup. "So…should I keep interrogating you? Or do you just want to tell me what happened in your own words?"