Chapter 10
CHAPTER
TEN
Sunday dinner was already weird, and they hadn’t even left the house yet.
Madison was thinking like a girl.
Staring into her closet, she couldn’t decide what to wear. Maybe Kyle had planted the seed yesterday when he’d joked about using wardrobe indecisiveness as their excuse for being late to Sunday dinner.
Stalking back to her bureau, she opened the drawer and studied her jeans again. “Pierre! Come help me find something to wear.”
The black wasn’t the problem. As she looked at her clothes, everything looked too worn.
Usually that was a plus with jeans and shirts.
They were soft. They held her heat. But she’d peeked at Kyle’s swanky I’m Too Sexy For Couture outfit after they’d showered.
He was a creature of habit, laying out his clothes on the bed.
It had made her own wardrobe feel inadequate.
He was probably dressed in the swanky outfit now. Maybe he’d even shaved and put on his sexy aftershave.
Oh God, don’t even get her started on his aftershave…
She’d squirted some on herself the other morning on impulse, wanting his scent all over her.
Only she’d nailed herself with way too much again, making her sneeze.
She’d scrubbed hard with industrial soap in her bathroom, only the mannish musk scent hadn’t gone away.
Panic-stricken that everyone who encountered her would know exactly what had happened, she’d squirted a little on Pierre, saying he should wear cologne. Which had made the parrot preen.
At the restaurant, he’d asked people to smell him, and she’d hoped they bought her cover story.
She was clearly losing her mind. Worse, she still hadn’t found an outfit. “Pierre, I need something nice.”
Her towel was slipping, and she wanted to bang her head against the wall. Normally this process took her ninety seconds tops—the time it took to fry an egg. Today she was going on five minutes, making a stack of pancakes.
Her friend flew from her bed to the open bureau, resting on the shelf. He picked up a black sweater by the sleeve with his beak. “C’est jolie.”
“Pretty, yes, but too warm,” she answered in French.
She would die of heat in that sweater with Axel’s fireplace, which he always had blazing, and the press of people in his living room. Then there was Kyle. Since they’d started hooking up, her inner temperature was like a pot of boiling water.
Golden Boy had her hot and needy. He’d satisfied her in ways she’d never experienced. Yep. Dude had game. But she wanted him constantly. She wasn’t sure how she’d get through the night without touching him.
Pierre nudged a couple more shirts. They weren’t jet black anymore, but a blackish gray.
“Hey!”
She jumped a mile. “Jesus, Kyle. You scared me.”
He only smiled as he buttoned his perfect white cuffs and shrugged on a navy jacket. God, he looked good enough to eat.
Pierre squawked and held up yet another shirt before she could stop him.
“Is Pierre your stylist now?” Kyle asked with a grin. “He does have an incredible look, doesn’t he? Mostly monochromatic.”
“Sure.” Monochromatic? God help her.
Weirdness was starting to take root between them again. She shifted on her feet, biting her lip, before she marched across the room and pulled out her favorite jeans and pullover. Forget this!
Kyle’s smile slipped from his mouth as she gripped the towel in place and put her legs in her jeans and started to jump as she pulled them into place with a final shimmy.
“I see you have a technique.”
“Yep. Time tested. It’s the pogo stick technique finished with a sultry bachata.”
She flashed him a tight smile and spun around. As she dropped her towel and reached for her shirt, his arms came around her.
He nestled his face into her neck. “What’s wrong?”
Squeezing her eyes shut, she tried to stay cool. But how could she? They both knew she was being weird about dressing in front of him. Usually, she didn’t think twice. “I’m getting a little nervous about seeing everyone, okay? But I’m handling it.”
He didn’t release her. Instead, he nodded against her neck. “Me too. Want some help?”
“If you’re thinking another round of sex will do it, we’re really going to be late.”
“I was wondering if you’d like to tell me why you were stomping around in here.” He tightened his arms around her. “I’ve made a study of all things Madison Garcia, and Pierre helping you dress is new as far as I can tell.”
She wanted to hang her head, so she stomped her foot. “Nothing was looking right for today. I mean… You’re dressed so nicely, and suddenly all my clothes looked wrong. And I hate that. I told you I wouldn’t change for you, and now I am. My problem. Please don’t get upset, okay?”
He rocked her in place. “I was nervous about my clothes today too, and I never question my choices. I was like, too casual? Trying to be too normal?”
Turning around, she studied his face. “You’re telling me the truth, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” he said, the sincerity in his eyes underscoring the word. “I won’t lie to you, Mad. Ever.”
Her heart started hammering in her chest as she sank back onto her bed. “Maybe we forget clothing. Go over naked with fig leaves on. Everyone can laugh at us being in our Adam and Eve phase.”
He sat next to her on the bed. “Dean would love that idea, so I have to veto it on principle.”
She snorted out a laugh. “True. So let me sit here for a sec by myself and pull my shit together.”
Taking her hand, he caressed her palm with his thumb. “I have another suggestion.”
She eyed him warily. “What is it?”
“Hang on.”
When he left the room, she flopped back on the bed. Pierre flew over and landed beside her shoulder, making one of his assuring clicking sounds.
When Kyle came back in, he had his hands behind his back. There was a tight smile on his face. “We’re about to get really weird. If it’s too much, let’s set it aside. I will walk out of your room and meet you downstairs.”
She sat up warily. “Sell it, Kyle. Jeez, what did you do?”
He came forward finally and held up a black cotton shirt.
“I was Christmas shopping and thinking of you, which I do all the time, so I went and looked for some shirts that were known for being really soft and practical. I bought you one—of course I chickened out about giving it to you. I thought— Never mind. It’s yours if you’d like to try it.
But again, you don’t need to feel any obligation. ”
“Kyle—shut up a sec.” She reached for the shirt and nearly sighed at how soft it was. “The fabric feels like it’s been washed a hundred times.”
“I think that was in the description,” he joked, but his blue eyes were tight at the corners.
“Doux,” Pierre squawked after rubbing his face against the fabric.
She tugged it over her head and pulled at the sleeves to adjust them. “God, Pierre’s right. It really is soft. And stretchy. I like shirts that have some give in them but aren’t too loose. When you cook, you don’t want anything catching on fire.”
He blanched. “Not an image I want in my head. I’ll add that consideration to the top of my list for any further purchases. If you’re cool with me buying you gifts…”
He stood there, stiff as a board, as she continued to run her fingers over the fabric. Gifts…
No one had ever given her gifts before. The recipe card from Thea sprang up in her mind, the New Reality part flashing bright. This would be a part of it. Hadn’t Kyle already started giving her things? Outfitting the kitchen in this house came to mind.
He was always giving people what they needed.
Sometimes tangible items people would call gifts, like Sawyer’s studio.
Other times it was the way he listened or helped you with a problem.
He needed to be helpful. She realized it made him happy, and that aspect was the part of Operation Kyle she was starting to understand.
Giving was his way of showing how much he cared, and to make a gesture like this when he knew how independent she was, how closed off—
She hopped off the bed and wrapped her arms around his neck. “This was brave.”
“Oui,” Pierre agreed, bobbing his head.
His strained laughter made her heart do a wild flip in her chest. “To be fair, I bought the shirt before you made your conditions. But yeah, I imagine swimming with sharks would have been less terrifying.”
Gripping him tightly, she felt that strange glow start to spread within her.
Whenever the feeling struck, she liked to imagine Kyle had somehow gotten inside her chest and lit more romantic candles there.
“You get big points here. I love this shirt. I might need a few more because when I find a shirt I like, I usually buy more than one. Practical.”
“So you.” He kissed her cheek before swooping in for one of their whew, thank God the weird moment is over kisses.
She gave it her all, caressing away the tension in his back. “No one’s ever given me much, so it’s always a surprise, but I figure you get that,” she finally said when they eased apart. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He checked his watch. “Now, we really need to run.”
Grabbing her socks and boots, she rushed from the room. “Race you.”
He was laughing as he gave chase, which helped both of them fall back into an easier normal before they left for dinner.
On the way over, she caught him smiling out the window, an almost boyish grin on his face.
She followed his gaze and spotted a well-dressed man walking a cute little dog.
Was that the reason? She remembered him mentioning how he’d wanted one, as recently as when he was with Paisley.
Huh. Something to think about…when her insides weren’t jumping with nerves.
When they got out of the Uber together later, she experienced a moment of panic. Everyone would notice they were arriving together…