Chapter 59
CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE
A day ago, I would have told you I never want to see the inside of a hotel again, but now? Maddox McAllister just blew my mind on that dinky bed, and now the sight of a hotel bed with its dingy orange duvet gets me hard.
I’m hard for hotel beds. I’m hard for dingy orange. I’m hard for Maddox.
I’m down bad.
“Ready, my love?” I ask.
Maddox grabs the hotel key and his keys–he insists on driving, swoon–and walks up to me.
He doesn’t acknowledge the “L” word that slipped out, and for a moment, I hold my breath.
I know Maddox doesn’t want to go house hunting, and I know he’s doing it because I’m so excited about it.
Maddox gives me the smallest smile, dimples popping.
My knees almost buckle. Oh boy, am I down bad.
I can barely contain my excitement when we get in the car.
I think this is the perfect place. It’s on the edge of town, away from the road, and on a few acres.
The owners passed away, and it needs a bit of work.
But there would be enough land for Minky to run around and for us to bring in any extra animals we find that might need a home.
Oh, and we could break all the hotel beds we want out here!
Maddox is silent on the drive, but I’ve come to realize that usually means he’s fighting demons, not that he’s ignoring me or mad at me, nor does he expect me to fix it.
It feels so freeing to realize that. So I turn the radio on at a reasonable volume, not so loud that it overstimulates him, and sing along softly until we get there.
When we pull in, the drive is long, surrounded by cornfields on either side. The corn waves in the summer wind, and I roll the window down, sucking in a breath of fresh air. Fudge, this is nice.
When we get to the house, it's a two-story white farmhouse with peeling paint and windows with real window panes. It looks weathered, like it’s seen a few generations’ worth of stories and all those generations are gone, but it’s still here.
My chest tugs, and I feel an odd companionship with the house. It’s lonely now with no family to house.
We can be its family!
I hop out of the car. My realtor, Susie, is already here, and she gives us a big smile. “Hey!”
Maddox is holding back just a little, like he’s uncomfortable. I know getting out in public has been hard for him, so I grab his hand to remind him I have his back, then turn to my realtor. “Hey, Susie! You ready?”
Maddox’s hand is stiff in mine for a second, and I freak out. I didn’t think and pushed it too far! But Susie ignores our little show of pda and starts talking about the house. I turn to look at Maddox. Maybe the hand was too much?
But he gives me a quick look that I can’t interpret, and his face falls back into business mode as Susie talks about the house.
He doesn’t remove his hand, and it makes it feel like birds are taking flight in my chest. He’s holding my hand!
As soon as we step inside, I’m hit by how much natural light is in the house, pouring in from windows all over.
To the immediate left are the stairs, and to the right is the living room.
Down the hall is the kitchen, bright with sunshine.
Instantly, I’m hit with a vision of the wall full of pictures of us, Princess barreling down the hall from the kitchen to try and Shamoo his way out the front door, Minky jumping up and down at our feet.
Maddox is in the kitchen, preparing dinner–steak, of course, because he’s thoughtful.
He’s wearing an apron, making him look like a big, scary, grumpy princess of a man.
I throw my bag down and run to him, giving him the biggest kiss on the lips.
He kisses me back, harder, biting my lip and bending me over the island. Then he rips my pants off and—
“Micah?”
I glance over to see Maddox is looking back, gently pulling on the hand I’m still grasping him with.
Oh. Right. The tour.
I swallow, following him. In each room, I see visions of our time together.
As we go, I feel Maddox’s grip on me relaxing.
His voice loosens as he asks questions of Susie.
By the end, he even chuckles at something she says, and the sound goes right to my head.
It’s such a beautiful sound that it makes me stop in my tracks.
Maddox is happy. He’s happy.
Oh my freak, I think I might die right here. But no, I can’t die! I need more of Maddox. More, more, more.
When we walk outside, I think I’m smiling like an idiot, but I can’t stop.
Susie talks, but I don’t hear it. All I can see are visions of our animals dancing across the yard.
I glance out further. There’s a trailer further down on the property, which Susie explained provides income in the form of rent and the tenants keep to themselves.
I glance over the car in the lot, a 67 Mustang, then stop. A 67 Mustang? Just like Logan’s.
Logan?
The door opens, and two men file out. They appear to be arguing with each other, and as soon as they’re all out, I recognize them, and I freeze.
Fudge. What are Logan, Ronan, and Dakota doing here?