Take a Chance on Me(87)

Mitch whipped around to face her. “Why do you say that?”

“She says you’re a lot alike.”

“I’m nothing like him.” Hands clenched into fists.

“As I said, we’ve been talking a lot. She told me who he was before he got caught up in the power of politics, who he was when she first met him. I think you’re more alike than you think.”

“I’d never screw over people like he does.” Anger emanated from Mitch, aggression in the set of his legs and arms. He was ready to attack.

She raised one brow. “Are you sure about that?”

He reared back as though she’d struck him. “How could you think that?”

“You’ve said yourself you weren’t a very nice person. Have you ever thought about what would have happened if you hadn’t lost your career?” She straightened her shoulders and looked him straight in the eye. “You didn’t have the best track record. You walked a shady line. You were sleeping with another man’s wife. Destroying evidence. Who knows what you would have become if the whole house of cards had never fallen around you?”

He stopped walking as though snapped by an invisible leash. With his expression transforming into a thundercloud, he crossed his arms over his chest. “So what are you trying to say, Maddie?”

He needed some cold, hard truth. Tough love, as her dad used to say. “Have you ever thought that losing your career and reputation was the best thing that ever happened to you? Maybe the tragedy wasn’t that everything went to hell, but that you never picked up the pieces and put them back together again.”





Chapter Twenty-Four



The following evening, Mitch sat in his back office at the bar, contemplating the chaos of his life. Maddie’s words had struck a chord last night, and now he couldn’t stop thinking about them. Was she right?

Before he’d lost his respectability, he’d been tearing up the partner track, defending rich, oily *s more guilty than innocent. He hadn’t cared about screwing anyone over, hadn’t thought twice about sleeping with another man’s wife. Was it really a stretch to assume he’d have followed in his father’s footsteps?

The truth rocked his foundation.

Late last night, after Maddie had fallen asleep, he’d realized something. This whole time, some part of him had secretly pined for his old life. He hadn’t put down roots here in Revival because deep down he’d believed he didn’t belong. He belonged back in Chicago, living a life he’d someday reclaim.

But that was a lie. He didn’t want to go back. The man he’d been was a distant memory belonging to someone else, not him.

In the quiet peace of his farmhouse, he’d finally shrugged off the past and allowed himself to wonder whether his future was as black and white as he’d thought. It was time he did some good in the world instead of sitting on his ass in a bar he hated, living off his trust fund.

It was time to man up.

A soft knock sounded, and Mitch pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. “Come in.”

Maddie walked into the dreary, rundown room like a ray of sunshine, beaming a megawatt smile.

“I hope you don’t mind me stopping by.” She carried a box he recognized and put it on the desk in front of him.

He stared at the white cardboard box containing all of the pertinent details of Luke’s case. “What’s that doing here?”

With her cheeks flushed and her eyes a bit glassy, she didn’t say anything. She’d been at home when he’d left for the bar, and as far as he knew she hadn’t been hitting the margaritas again.

He raised one brow in a question.

Her pink tongue darted out to wet her full lower lip and his cock stirred. One finger traced the line of the box as she walked around the desk. Her hips were a seductive sway in a little white flip skirt he’d never seen before. It matched the short-sleeved button-down that managed to look both innocent and drop-dead sexy in a combination only Maddie could pull off.

Her green eyes gleamed with something predatory.

Suddenly, the urge to flip her over the desk and take her swept over him so strongly and powerfully that his hand twitched on the pen he’d been absently holding.

He pushed back from his desk and gave her a slow, thorough once-over. “You look like a woman with something on her mind.”

“Oh, I am,” she purred, in a voice he’d never heard before.

“And what would that be?”

The only answer he received was a slow smile filled with such lascivious promise that his cock went from stirring to rock hard. She stopped between him and the desk, standing before him with her legs slightly splayed, looking like a warrior princess despite her petite stature. She picked up both of his wrists and put them on the arms of his chair, her fine-boned fingers looking small and fragile against his skin.

The need to take control of the situation spiked hard and furious, racing through his blood and making his heart kick up a notch, but he reined it in. He was too curious about what she intended to put an end to her game.

She leaned over, not touching him except for her hold on his arms, and licked at his bottom lip. The simple touch was like a lightning bolt straight to his balls, and he curled his fingers around the edge of the chair arms to keep from throwing her onto his desk. She traced the seam of his lips with her tongue. Then, slowly and confidently, she melded her mouth over his. A low groan escaped when her tongue slipped inside to caress his.