Take a Chance on Me(74)

This time, losing everything would be worse. Back in Chicago, he’d had a lifestyle but not a life. Sure, people had surrounded him, but no one had known him, not even Sara. Yes, they’d had sex and passion, but despite the stories they’d told each other, they’d never really been in love. It had been a game. They’d been two bored, unfulfilled people who had needed the challenge and lure of the forbidden to add excitement to their lives. She’d never crawled inside him.

Not like Maddie.

“Here, I brought you a drink.” Maddie’s soft voice came from behind him as though he’d conjured her, blowing over him like a soft summer breeze—a calm, soothing presence in the increasing chaos of his life.

He peered at her over his shoulder and his breath lodged in his chest. Deep red hair blazed like licks of fire in the early evening sun as she smiled down at him. Unnamed emotions pressed in the corner of his mind, wanting to take hold and be named.

He resisted. It was too much, too fast.

She pushed the pale glass of lemonade toward him. “I spiked it with vodka.”

He laughed, surprised he still could. “Thanks, Princess.

She sat next to him on the blanket, and he took the drink, downing half of it in one gulp. It was sweet and tart, with a hint of a kick lurking underneath, just like Maddie.

She dropped her head onto his shoulder and her warm little body snuggled close.

“Wait.” Mitch placed the glass carefully on the grass and lay down. With a tug on her wrist, he pulled her next to him.

The scent of her honey-and-almond shampoo wafted up as her long hair brushed over his skin. She nuzzled close, sliding one smooth thigh over his. His fingers trailed a path over her arms, and he smiled in pleasure when goose bumps broke over her skin, despite the heat. He took a slow breath and the knot that had been coiled tight in his chest unraveled as her small frame curled close. He kept up his rhythmic stroking. Up and down, over and over, until the turbulence eased from his mind. She burrowed more deeply, tracing a path over his stomach. She said nothing, asked no questions and shot no probing glances. In her silence, in her complete understanding of what he needed, another barrier crumbled from between them.

A bone-deep satisfaction and an odd sort of contentment loosened his muscles. His body relaxed. With Maddie lying beside him under the trees, the late afternoon sun peeking through the leaves, and the sound of the river trickling downstream, his eyelids grew heavy and closed.

Some time later, he drifted back to consciousness to find her propped on one elbow, watching him. He blinked, bringing her into crisp focus. “Did I fall asleep?”

She nodded. “You were out like a light.”

He dragged a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” she said, trailing a finger over his jaw. “I could watch you for hours.”

Warmed by the sun and dazed from his nap, he felt lazy, like he never wanted to move again. He yawned. “I’m sure you’d get bored eventually, Princess.”

“No way. You’re an artist’s dream. I hope you don’t mind.” She reached behind her and picked up a piece of paper, which she held out to him.

He took the sheet and was instantly awake.

To his embarrassment, his throat grew so tight he was unable to speak. She’d drawn him in pencil. His lashes brushed his cheeks as he’d slept. The crisp, strong lines accentuated his jaw and bone structure. Somehow, even in black and white with shades of gray, she’d managed to show the cast of the sun on his body, making it look as if he were lit from above. It was uncanny. Her talent was unmistakable.

He cleared the lump sitting behind his Adam’s apple. “Is this how you see me?”

She traced a path over the scrolls of his tattoo. “I see you as you really are.”

He shook his head, unable to think of anything profound. “You are incredibly gifted.”

She plucked the paper from his fingers and scrutinized it with narrowed eyes. “I can see the flaws.”

“I can’t.”

She put the paper down. “It’s the first thing I’ve drawn since my dad died. I’m rusty.”

“I’m honored.” The words were grossly inadequate; he was in awe. “But why are you wasting your talent?”

She frowned, shrugging. “I haven’t wanted to.”

He brushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “Why?”

“I guess after the accident,” she said, her chin trembling enough to tell him that she held back tears, “I didn’t feel like I deserved it. Quitting was my penance. Silly, I know, but I was a teenager. I think my rationale was that he loved that about me, so it was only right it died with him.”

“But why would you think he’d want you to abandon something you’re so good at?” He’d never met her father, but he’d learned enough about him from Maddie to know that he’d never want his child to waste such a gift.

She swallowed, and her eyes closed momentarily before her lashes lifted once again. “He’s dead because of me.”

“Maddie, it was a car accident. It wasn’t your fault.”

“I was driving.”

Shit. He should have guessed. All that guilt, all the bending over backward to make everyone happy. It made perfect sense, but he’d never put two and two together.

The first tear slid down her cheek. “I had my learner’s permit, and I wanted to drive so badly. He was working. He didn’t want to go. But I wouldn’t stop.” She gave a broken sob. “I knew if I kept asking I’d get my way.”