Bad Boy’s Bridesmaid(99)

“She hates you.”

“Only because you hated me. Given time, without your influence, she’d see what I could give her. More than anything you’d offer.”

“Yeah?”

“A solid home. A good future. Success. I aim to begin my political career at the state level. Run for governor when I’m thirty-five. A woman like Josie would help my career.”

“Secure that African-American vote with a black wife on your arm?”

Nolan’s practiced smile would win debates but not Josie’s heart. “My policies would reflect my commitment to all my constituents.”

“Of course.”

“Stay away from her, Maddox.”

“Not gonna happen.”

Nolan exhaled. He pulled an envelope from his suit. Instructions for a job, delivered in the same manner he used to conduct our business. I might have shoved it down his throat, but I needed some money, if only to get me started again. The longer I stayed without incident, the easier it’d be to convince people I was safe.

And then I could get her back.

“You’re only endangering her, Maddox. Stay away before someone gets hurt.”

I took the envelope. “I’m staying to make sure she’s safe.”

“From who?”

“Take a wild fucking guess.” I kicked the car door open. “If I see you hanging around her, you’re a dead man.”

“Payment upon completion of the job.”

“I remember.”

Nolan pulled a pair of sunglasses from his pocket. He tucked them on and surveyed his town.

“And as always, we both exercise complete discretion. The town doesn’t find out.” He nodded to me. “And I won’t tell Josie that you’re bloodying your knuckles for her enemy.”

I slammed the door. The SUV peeled out and left me where I started.

Not just today, but a year ago.

A job in my pocket, money from the wrong people, and no way to provide for a woman who deserved that sugar-sprinkled life.

It’d change. I’d change.

Josie would be mine. I’d earn back my spot in her heart. I’d have her for my own, and I’d make all her dreams come true.

First, I’d find the bastard who framed me and bleed him for my revenge.

Then, Josie would give me the only thing I want.

A family.





Chapter Five - Josie



Maddox was the only man who tempted me to do something very naughty with my buttercream icing.

That made him the wrong man for me. He was the tablespoon of salt in my recipe—the accident that didn’t ruin the dish but made it that much harder.

I recovered from his visit. At least, my body did. My heart? Kinda forgot to hop on board. I wasn’t ready to confront those feelings, it wasn’t safe to admit those feelings, so I buried myself in cake flour and filled every available space in my apartment with ten different types of cookies.

Chocolate chip mended broken hearts.

Macadamia nut were good for forgetting.

The multi-colored meringue cookies helped to focus my concentration, especially when Maddox turned my thoughts from sugar and spice to everything naughty…but nice.

I double-plastic wrapped the more fragile lattice-sugar cookies and tinned the rest in pretty bundles with my shop’s decals. I didn’t have enough to decorate all the packages, but everyone would know where the treats came from.

And one day, they’d line up at my store again to buy their own dozen.

Hopefully.

I loaded my car to the brim with more cookies than I had space in my little Ford. I counted the batches and sighed. I hadn’t tried to sleep after Maddox left on Friday night. Instead I baked straight through Saturday into Sunday and finally dozed off on a batch of oatmeal raisins. I caught the cookies before they burned, but not before I realized I was in trouble.

Every time I closed my eyes, I imagined my apartment door slamming shut again. Part of me hated myself for letting Maddox stay the night. The other part was listening too intently for his return. I told him to leave, but when did Maddox ever listen to anyone?

How was he released from prison so soon?

What was I supposed to do to save him now?

It was too early to head to Nolan’s rally. Fortunately, the event was close to Granddad. I detoured to Willowbend Health Center to check on him…even if Granddad hadn’t been in the greatest of moods for visits.

He hated the home. I wished he hadn’t called it that—especially since the assisted care facility was one of the best and most expensive in the state. I spent every last cent of the insurance money on a room for him, planning for him to bounce back from the injuries so we could rebuild and start fresh together.

That was before I learned about his debts. Then the doctors warned his prognosis was poor.

I didn’t know what we’d do, especially since Granddad wasn’t…himself anymore. He cursed the nurses, refused his treatments, and complained about the butterscotch pudding. I didn’t like that it came from a box either, but at least he was alive to complain about it.

I buttered up the nurses he exasperated with enough cookies to earn their patience. Poor Larry was on duty at the station, hiding behind a hunting magazine. I passed him the plate of chocolate chips and accepted his canonization of my sainthood.

Granddad’s door was closed. I gently rapped on the frame. He grunted, and it was about the best we’d get. He acted like he wanted to smile when he saw me, but Granddad rarely allowed it anymore. Said the oxygen tubes made him look more machine than man.

He looked like the same man I remembered. My loving, wonderful grandfather—just a bit older, just a bit frailer, but he was still there.

Somewhere.

“Hey, Granddad,” I said. “I was in the neighborhood.”

He reached for the remote. For a second, I thought he might turn off the TV. At least he lowered the volume.

“How are you feeling?” I took the seat next to him. Was it possible his hair grayed even more in the few days since I saw him last? “The nurses said you had a bad night?”

“Every night is bad, Jo-Jo.”

His voice rasped. The coughing started. They must have cranked the oxygen up for him—hell, I heard the air hissing through the tubes. His lungs were bad before the fire, but I didn’t know how much smoke and debris he inhaled while he was trapped inside.

“Is there anything I can get for you?” I pulled my phone, prepared for a list. “I’m out and about today. I can go to the store, get you some popcorn or a soda or…”

“I’m fine.”

He didn’t sound fine. The words were curt, bitten. Not at all how he used to talk to me. Hell, Nana would have slapped him across the face if he ever took that tone with either of us.

But Nana was gone, had been since I was thirteen. I was glad she didn’t see him like this.

“Know what I miss most about the shop?” I asked.

I tucked my feet under me, settling in. Granddad grunted. He hated when I talked about Sweet Nibbles, but the doctors said it was good for him—something that might draw him out of the depression.

“Remember that picture that used to hang by the register?” I said.

“No.”

“Yes, you do. It was the one when I was little. Me on the counter, you and Nana behind me. She was handing me that ridiculously huge ice cream cone. Four scoops and they were all toppling.”

“Five scoops.”

I smiled. Granddad rubbed his face, his dark hands trembling as a rickety cough shuddered through his chest. He whooped a few times, and I handed him the little cup of water on his nightstand.

“I wish I had that photo,” I said. “I miss Nana. I’m starting to forget what she even looked like.”

“Look in the mirror.” Granddad didn’t take his eyes from the television. “You’re her, fifty years ago. Same cheekbones. Same lips. Hell, you scold me the same goddamn way. Think I’d get any peace after working a long day? Nah. Your Nana would find me after work and drag my keister home for dinner every night.”

I nodded, though I knew the real reason Nana was grabbing him for dinner. So did the rest of the town. Granddad was a good man, an honest man, but he had liked to drink.

And he really loved to gamble.

Too much.

“So…did you ever decide if you wanted to sell your electrical business?” I pretended like the option hadn’t weighed on my mind. “We might be able to get some money from it. We could sell the client list.”

“To who?”

I picked at a fraying bit of string on my sleeve. “Maddox.”

“That trouble-maker’s in jail.”

“He got out.”

“What?” Granddad turned, catching his hands in his oxygen tubes as he pointed at me. “You stay away from that boy.”

“You took him in as your apprentice.”

“Yeah, because I thought he was going to get you in trouble.”

“Granddad.”

“Don’t you Granddad me. That boy is dangerous.”

“He didn’t cause the fire.”

“Don’t be so sure.” The cough bent him in two. “His family ain’t no good. His sister is a known woman. His friends in the city don’t have a dollar between them that they haven’t stolen from someone’s pocket. He had his eyes on you from the beginning, and if I weren’t tethered to this damn oxygen tank I’d take care of him once and for all.”

“But you liked Maddox.”