Chapter 40
Forty
Beckett
The date was exactly what I wanted it to be.
It was a proper restaurant with a proper table, and proper wine that requires a small lecture before they let you drink it.
Madison sat across from me in that black dress and those red heels, like I wasn’t two minutes from hauling her over my shoulder and taking her back to my bed. She talked with her hands and asked me questions about work that most people glaze over by the second sentence. It was easy to be with her.
But as we walk toward the car, one thought keeps circling.
I am starving.
The place was Michelin-starred, which apparently means the food must fit on a cracker.
Madison’s quiet beside me. Her heels click against the pavement in an even rhythm.
“Dinner was great,” she says. “I haven’t been to that restaurant before.”
No one over six years old should go to that restaurant.
I can tell she’s chewing on something in her mind.
“Say it, Madi.”
“What?”
“Whatever’s on your mind.”
She exhales and stops walking. “I don’t want to sound ungrateful.”
“You won’t.”
“But what the hell was with those portion sizes? I ate the garnish out of desperation.”
I bark out a laugh. “Thank Christ you said it.”
Her eyes widen. “You noticed?”
“I was about to start gnawing on the leather seats in my car.”
We both look down the street at the same time. Three blocks away, a neon sign is buzzing, casting a greasy, beautiful red glow over the sidewalk.
Tony’s 24-Hour Pizza.
“Come on,” I say, grabbing her hand. “Let’s get you fed. I won’t have you telling your friends I left you hungry.”
∞∞∞
Twenty minutes later, the Michelin-star experience has been officially replaced by two extra-large slices of pepperoni and a side of garlic knots.
We’re heading back to the car now. The air is cooler, the city sounds are muffled, and Madison is finally visibly soft. The pizza has done what the sea bass couldn’t—it’s made her carefree.
“I have a confession,” she says as we walk. “This dress was definitely only made for the smaller portions. I can feel the pepperoni fighting for space.”
“You look beautiful.”
She does. She always does.
“I feel like a sausage in silk,” she giggles. It’s a light, bubbly sound I’ve never heard from her before. Then, she winces and stumbles slightly in her heels. “And these shoes… they’re beautiful, but they’re torture devices.”
I stop walking and step in front of her. “Hop on,” I say, pointing to my back.
She eyes me, her mouth falling open. “You… you want to carry me on your back? In the middle of the street?”
“Yes.”
“Beckett, there are people around. We’re in front of a dive bar.”
“And?” I look back at her over my shoulder. “I’m a doctor. I’m used to transporting patients. You’re just a very well-dressed one.”
She laughs again and kicks off the red heels. She bends down, loops the straps over her fingers, and sighs. “This won’t be classy, Doc. This dress is basically welded to my skin.”
“What happens back there is none of my business.”
She hops up, her silk-clad thighs gripping my waist as her arms lock around my neck. I hitch her up, adjusting my grip, and start walking. She buries her face in the crook of my neck, her breath warm against my skin.
As we pass a huddle of girls outside a club, a few wolf-whistles ring out.
“That is so cute!” one of them shouts.
“Thank you!” I call back, not breaking my stride. “I’m quite fond of her.”
Madison loses it. She’s shaking with laughter against my back. “You just want to show off that you can carry a grown woman three blocks.”
“Maybe a little,” I admit.
When we reach the car, I slide her into the passenger seat. I lean in, my hands framing her face, and kiss her.
“There you go,” I murmur, pulling back to strap her in.
“Thank you. You’re my knight in shining armor.”
I drive back to the apartment in a comfortable silence. The radio is low, playing “Slow Burn” by Kacey Musgraves.
When we reach the building, I offer to carry her again, but she insists on walking. “I have my dignity to reclaim.”
When we reach her door, she turns the key, pushes the door open, and steps inside, expecting me to follow.
But I stay in the hallway.
She turns around, her eyes already darkening with an invitation I’ve been thinking about since the shoe store.
“What are you doing out there?” she asks, her brow pinching. “Come in.”
I stop at the threshold, take her chin in my hand, and kiss her hard. It’s a promise, not a goodbye.
It kills me to do it, but I pull away.
“Goodnight, neighbor.”
She blinks, looking completely thrown. “What the hell? Are you serious?”
“I wanted to take you on a date, Madison. A real one. Thank you for letting me. I didn’t do it just to get you into bed after.”
Her hands roam over my chest. “I mean, I really don’t mind if you do.”
It feels stupid, considering we’ve spent weeks tangled up in each other’s sheets, but something tells me she hasn’t been treated right in the past. I don’t want to be just another guy she feels she needs to repay.
I let out a low groan, rubbing the back of my neck.
Fuck, this is the hardest thing I’ve ever done. But I grab her chin again, giving her one last, quick kiss that leaves us both breathless. “Goodnight, Madison.”
I turn and walk away before my willpower snaps.
“You’re really leaving?” she calls after me, sounding genuinely shocked.
“Yes.”
I reach the stairwell and look back just in time to see her standing in her doorway, smiling. She’s silhouetted by the light of her apartment.
“Thanks for dinner, Doc,” she calls out.
“You’re welcome,” I shout back, already taking the stairs two at a time.
Just as the door to the stairwell begins to close, I hear her muffled voice from the hallway.
“Shit,” she whisper-hisses.
The sound of her door slamming is the most satisfying thing I’ve heard all night.
∞∞∞
I’m halfway through unbuttoning my shirt, the fabric hanging open as I head toward the bedroom, but my brain is still in 3B.
Then comes the knock.
I’m at the door in three strides, pulling it open while leaning one hand high against the frame. Madison is standing there, still wrapped in her coat, those lethal red heels making her nearly eye-level with me.
“I’ve been thinking,” she says, her voice a little breathless.
I take her in—the flushed cheeks, the messy hair, the way she’s clutching the lapels of her coat. “Have you?”
“Yes, and I love that you respect me enough to take me on a date and simply walk away. It was very noble. Very… gentlemanly.”
“Thank you,” I say, my voice dropping an octave as I fight the urge to just haul her inside.
“You’re welcome,” she counters, stepping into my space until the scent of her perfume hits me full force. “But Beckett? Could you be noble tomorrow? Because I’ve been thinking—”
I don’t let her finish. I reach out, threading my fingers through her hair and hauling her into my arms. I retreat into the apartment, my boot catching the door and slamming it shut with a bang that echoes through the room.
Her coat doesn’t even make it past the entrance; it slides off her shoulders and pools on the floor. The dress follows a second later, a shimmering black heap on the hardwood.
She reaches down, her fingers fumbling with the straps of those red heels. I catch her wrists, pinning them against the wall behind her.
“No,” I growl, my eyes dark as I take her in. “Leave those on.”
The corner of her mouth curves into one of the most dangerous smiles I’ve ever witnessed. “Oh, Doc, I was hoping you’d say that.”