The Devil Wears Black(16)

“You’re right, sweetheart. I know firsthand how good you are at taking care of yourself.” I elevated a suggestive eyebrow, referring to the arsenal of sex toys I’d once found in her kitchen drawer while looking for a spoon for my coffee. (“I’m space efficient, okay?” she’d yelled. “This is a studio apartment!”) Madison, as predicted, turned crimson in a second.

“Self-care is important.” She looked up at the ceiling, presumably trying not to combust.

“Preach, sister.” Katie sighed, our innuendos flying over her head. “I’m thinking of going back to therapy now that we found out about Dad.”

Mad’s eyes dropped back to Katie, her face crumpling from horrified to sad. “Oh, honey.” She touched my sister’s arm. “You should do whatever it takes to put yourself in the best state of mind. I think it’s a great idea.”

“Did you go to therapy? During . . . ? After . . . ?” Katie asked hopefully. My sister was a little older than Madison and yet ten times more naive. I chalked it up to a sheltered upbringing, combined with the luxury of never knowing true hardship.

“Well, I couldn’t really afford it.” Madison scrunched her nose, making Katie’s eyes bulge out with horror. Yeah. She forgot shrinks were a perk not everyone could afford. “But I had my dad. And anyway, lots of family, so . . .” She shrugged.

There was an awkward pause in which Katie probably felt like dying, I felt like killing someone, and Madison . . . who the heck knew what she felt at that moment?

“Well”—Mom clapped with a cheerful smile, snapping us out of our reverie—“let’s leave you lovebirds alone to settle in. We’re having a late snack at ten. Nothing formal, just a bit of food and a chat. We’d love to have you, if you are not too tired.”

Mom gave Madison one last hand squeeze before dragging my sister out of the room and closing the door behind us.

I removed my arm from Mad’s shoulders at the same time she swiveled toward me, stomping on my foot with all her might. It took a second to register her foot was on mine. She weighed practically nothing. Most of it was fabric and accessories she’d probably found in a Claire’s discount basket.

“We’re not staying in the same room.” She wiggled her finger in my face. I began to loosen my tie, sauntering into the walk-in closet, in which a full-blown wardrobe was waiting for me, appropriate for all seasons. I knew she’d follow.

“Fact-check that statement, Madison, because it looks like we are.”

“This place has like three hundred rooms.” She was at my heels, waving her arm around.

“Twelve,” I corrected, opening the watch drawer. Rolex or Cartier? The least heavy one was the right answer, in case there was more shoulder hugging. I knew I’d have to at least pretend to like her in front of my old man, and touching her was, unfortunately, a part of the charade. If he’d be half as happy as Mom and Katie were to see her, my place in heaven was secure.

God, I hope they serve booze there.

“Still enough for me to sleep elsewhere.” Madison jutted a hip against the shelves in my periphery. Narrow waist. Wide hips. Not disproportionately so, like that reality-TV family of human clones. She was deliciously feminine. Everything about her delicate and small and round. I wondered if that Dr. Goody Two-Shoes appreciated that about her.

“Why would two lovebirds like us sleep in separate bedrooms?” I closed the drawer, beginning to undress. I trusted Mad could turn around if she felt offended by my partial nudity. Not that it was something she hadn’t seen before. Up close.

“Lots of reasons,” she said breathlessly, snapping her fingers together. “Celibacy. Let’s pretend I’m saving myself for marriage.”

“Sweetheart, you sang your carols in the pantry, Jacuzzi, three of the bedrooms, and the pool when we stayed here last Christmas. Your virtue couldn’t find its way back to your body with a map, a compass, and a GPS.”

“They heard us?” Her eyes widened, and she blushed again. Admittedly, she was a cute blusher. She had apple cheeks and a soft jawline. Too bad she also had the ability to trick me into commitment when I wasn’t paying attention.

“Yes, my family heard us. People in Maine did too.”

“Jesus Christ.”

“Now, now, we celebrated JC’s birthday, but it was me who did all the dirty work.”

“I don’t recall you complaining.”

“A bit hard, since my mouth was strategically placed between your legs.”

She swatted my bare chest before turning around and pacing back and forth. She linked her fingers behind her neck as I continued to strip down to my briefs, flexing every muscle in my body. I was not above vanity (in truth, I was not above most things).

“I’m not sharing a bed with you.” She shook her head. Stopped. Pointed at the floor. “You’re welcome to the carpet.”

Resisting the urge to ask her if she meant another round with the one between her legs, I bowed my head. “Not sure you are aware, Mad, but it is possible for two people to sleep in the same bed without having sex. Cases of that have been recorded throughout history.”

“Not where you are concerned.” She gave me the stink eye, ignoring my state of undress. Fair point. I wasn’t used to her calling the shots or refusing me in general. Back when we were dating, Madison went with the flow and danced to my tune.