Take a Chance on Me(12)

“But you haven’t seen me.” No one had seen her—well, except Steve, but he hardly even counted. “I’m twenty-eight, and only one guy has seen me. And he isn’t like you. Why can’t you be someone else?”

“Like who?” He trailed a path over her bare skin, creating a rush of tingles up and down her spine.

She burrowed closer, some of her hysterics finally calming as his soothing but intoxicating presence worked its charm. “You’re not Mister Rogers, you know.”

“You can trust me, Maddie. I won’t attack.”

Ha! Not a concern. Once he saw her puny body, he’d probably wonder if she was a boy. Who knew what she’d do in her weakened emotional state with no clothes to protect her? She hadn’t been on her own since she was fifteen. What if she went crazy? She’d believed she’d been cured of her former wildness, but now she wasn’t so sure. Maybe it had only been hidden by years of emotional repression. Unable to stop the constant blurting of confessions, she cried, “But I might attack you.”

His hands tightened at her waist as though he wanted to curl his fingers into fists.

Embarrassed, she pressed closer, not wanting to let him go despite the growing urgency of her bladder. If she let go, she might start blubbering all over again.

His grip loosened and he traced a path up her arm to cup her jaw. With an insistent hold, he gently forced her chin up until she met his gaze. Eyes watery from her tears, she blinked him into focus.


He gave her an easy smile. “Princess, I’m six-three, and probably outweigh you by a good eighty pounds. I can fight you off.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sure you get this all the time.” She sniffed. “With your unfortunate good looks.”

“Now that’s one I’ve never heard before,” he teased.

Her eyes welled up again. “I’m trying so hard to be good, but things aren’t going my way.”

“I’m sure the Pope will understand,” he said, laughter threading his voice.

A few more tears slid down her cheeks. No one would ever understand. “I’m going to hell.”

“No way. You’re far too sweet.” He stroked over her cheek, and she buried her face in his chest. He started that slow sway again as she took deep, calming breaths.

“How about this?” he continued. “Let’s get you out of this dress and then we can talk.”

She nodded, her cheek rubbing along his T-shirt. “I tried to squirm out of it myself, but it’s too tight.”

“Turn around, and I’ll get you out of this thing.”

“Are you sure?” She burrowed deeper, even though the pressure on her bladder was increasingly uncomfortable.

“I’m positive. No big deal. I promise.” He sounded casual enough, and as he’d pointed out, he’d seen plenty of naked women. Besides, now that she was thinking clearly in the aftermath of her outburst, she realized that after he unbuttoned the dress, she could hold it up until she reached safety.

See? She could do this. It’d be easy. The dress might weigh fifty pounds, but she had the strength to hold it. Under her brother James’s tutelage, she’d been working on her biceps for months in the gym.

She stopped clutching his waist and bravely stepped away. “I’ll be good.”

A wide, devilish grin flashed over his lips, and he looped an arm around her and pulled her back. For a split second, he lost the hard set of his jaw and looked downright carefree. “Or I can make you come three or four times until you’re too exhausted to pounce.”

Shocked, she widened her eyes, and heat seared her cheeks. “That’s not being good!”

“It is if you do it right.”

“Um . . . I . . . ,” she gasped, stepping back. “Um . . . ,” she sputtered, not knowing what to say. Was that even possible? She darted a glance at Mitch and bit her bottom lip.

With him, it might be, assuming she could get out of her own head. She frowned. Why was she thinking about this? She was not considering this. She wasn’t. This was something the old Maddie would have considered, back when she was young and reckless. Rash.

She wasn’t that kind of woman anymore. Or was she?

Concern flattened the smile that had graced Mitch’s lips moments ago. He held up his hands, as though she were a frightened animal and he had to demonstrate how harmless he was. “Shit, I’m sorry. I forgot myself for a second, and you’re fun to tease.”

Oh, so he’d been joking. She steeled her spine. Such a relief. She didn’t want to find out anyway.

Because that would be very, very wrong.





Now why the hell had he gone and said that?

He’d finally calmed her down, and now he had to f*ck it up. He raked a hand through his hair and tried not to get distracted when her pink tongue darted over her strawberry-stained mouth.

Since she still hadn’t said anything, he continued to work on digging himself out of the hole he’d dug. “Can you forgive me? Men are complete idiots when a woman cries.” He gave her the smile he’d reserved for old ladies in the jury box.

She nibbled on her lower lip, looking pensive and wary.

The bluebird in his grandma’s cuckoo clock sprang from its door and chirped, breaking the silence. Maddie jumped, pressing her hand to her chest as though trying to keep her heart from jumping out.