Take a Chance on Me(30)

She stayed here with him. Period.

Gracie fluttered those long, full lashes that got her whatever she wanted. “What do you mean?”

Mitch shot a sidelong glance to the closed kitchen door, cocking an ear to listen for any sound above. Satisfied when he heard nothing, he lowered his voice. “I know you. When the subject of Maddie’s sleeping arrangements come up, don’t even think about offering her a place to stay.”

Gracie nibbled her bottom lip and snaked another inch closer to Charlie, who rubbed her back while taking a sip of beer. “You’ve got a real hard-on for this girl,” he said.

Mitch ignored the comment, remaining focused on Gracie. “Understood?”

“But—” she started.

“No buts,” Mitch cut her off. “And whatever you do, don’t mention the empty apartment you have over the garage.”

Sam stretched his legs under the kitchen table and slipped his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “She may not have a choice.”

A slice of panic, completely disproportionate to the situation at hand, cut through Mitch. He whipped around, eyeing Sam. “What do you mean?”

Relaxed, like he didn’t have a care in the world, he scrubbed a hand over his chin. “Well, what would you rather it be? Our house? Or Chicago?”

Mitch wasn’t in the goddamn mood to deal with any of Sam’s crap. “If you’re having some sort of premonition, then spit it the f*ck out.”

Sam shrugged and slouched lower in this chair. “Just making conversation.”

Yeah, right. Sam never just made conversation. Mitch raised his eyes to the ceiling. God help him, he missed the days of dealing with sane, rational people. The sad thing was that three years in this town had turned him as crazy as the rest of them. “She’s staying here.”


“All right,” Gracie chirped. Her white T-shirt, with a cupcake made from pink rhinestones on it, twinkled as though mocking him. “Don’t get your panties in a bunch. Mum’s the word.”

“Thank you,” Mitch said, shaking his head. “Was that so hard?”

Charlie, still rubbing slow circles over Gracie’s back, pinned him with his cop’s gaze. “What exactly do you think you’re doing?”

Hell if he knew. Mitch was in pure reaction mode—the words “keep her” pounded in his brain like a mantra, refusing to be ignored. He dragged a hand through his hair before propping a hip against the counter, trying to shake off the adrenaline rioting in his veins. “I’m helping her.”

Three faces, filled with varying amounts of disbelief, stared back at him.

Mitch took a slug off his beer to keep the justifications at bay. Fuck ’em, he didn’t have to explain himself.

One dark brow rose up Charlie’s forehead. “Just remember what happened the last time you went after an unavailable woman.”

As if Mitch could forget. He spoke through gritted teeth. “It’s not like that.”

Charlie shrugged. “It’s close enough to be cousins.”

A hot poker of anger jabbed in his stomach. “It’s not remotely the same.”

“You have a thing for unavailable women,” Charlie said, his expression as flat as his tone. “And Maddie, as cute as she is, fits the bill.”

“I don’t have a thing for unavailable women,” Mitch insisted.

Charlie’s mouth firmed into a hard line. “Do I need to give you a list?”

A completely irrational, stubborn defiance had Mitch clenching his beer bottle hard enough to shatter. “I know who I’ve slept with, and this isn’t the same. Maddie’s not married.”

“A technicality,” Charlie said.

“I know what I’m doing.” What a joke. He didn’t have a clue.

Charlie put his own bottle down and rested his hand on the counter. “The last time you knew what you were doing, you went down in a blaze.”

The reminder was like an uppercut to the jaw. This wasn’t the same. Besides, he had nothing left to lose. He leveled Charlie with a hard-eyed stare. “Do you really want to start comparing f*ck-ups?”

Their mutual history covered a lot of sordid ground.

“Hey,” Gracie said sharply before Charlie could answer. “Let’s not start rehashing the past. We like Maddie. We just don’t want to you to get hurt.”

“Don’t be dramatic. It’s a couple days.” How much damage could she do? It wasn’t like he was getting attached. He just wanted to keep her for a little while. Was that so wrong?

Sam sat forward, resting his elbows on the worn table. “Save your breath, he’s a goner.”

“I am not,” Mitch said. “And why is this any of your business?”

Charlie’s expression darkened, his mouth firming into a hard line.

Mitch ground out, “Leave it. Alone.”

Charlie gave him the look he used to intimidate criminals, and Mitch took a sip of beer with a laziness he didn’t even come close to feeling.

“Stop it,” Gracie said, poking her friend-with-benefits in the ribs.

“He’s being an idiot,” Charlie said, and the stubborn set of his jaw made Mitch want to take a swing at him.

He put down the bottle and cracked his knuckles. Actually, violence sounded damned good.