But even I wasn’t that naïve.
I avoided his gaze, but that meant staring at his ink. The raging stripes of color interspersed between the black, tribal curls over his biceps and abs. They were as amazing as they were frightening. I used to love tracing the markings. I loved the name tattooed over his heart more.
Josie.
Just being near him distracted me. I’d longed for him in the shower and cut my ankle shaving. I’d burnt the toast—twice—because he sat once again at my breakfast table and waited for whatever I served. And now, I babbled like an idiot because his chest twitched when he crossed his arms. That hard-packed muscle was the only thing missing from my bed to make my temporary apartment feel like home.
But he hadn’t come to my bed last night, despite my every hope. It was a relief, but a lonely one. Sleeping with him wouldn’t solve our problems. But he wasn’t respecting my privacy. Had Maddox wanted me, he’d have taken me. He stayed away because he was keeping watch over me.
Like he expected something terrible to happen.
Well, I feared it too. The knocking at my door late at night came too soon after Nolan’s threats. I’d imagine him forcing his way inside. It wasn’t a good thought, but I felt safe with Maddox.
Always had.
“Okay,” I said. “I’ll go to the station and ask a couple questions, but you can’t expect me to believe that Chief Craig is some sort of arsonist. Why would he do such a thing?”
Maddox tugged a shirt over his head. I wished I hadn’t watched how his abs flexed.
Or how his scars shimmered.
“He has his reasons.” His voice dropped. “More than you would know.”
“So tell me.”
He ignored me. “Ready to go?”
“How am I supposed to tell the Chief of Police I suspect he was involved with the arson if I don’t know his motive?”
Maddox tossed me my coat. He held the door open. “I’m his motive.”
“This is Saint Christie, not New York City.”
“You’re right. It’s worse.”
“You’re keeping something from me.”
Maddox slammed the door closed. I stood my ground, waiting for his temper.
“You’re one to talk,” he said.
“What does the Chief have to do with me or you?”
“Who were you hiding from last night?” He shrugged. “And why?”
We both quieted. I twisted against the secret as he approached.
Maddox was a solid force of muscle and strength. He summoned every wicked and depraved fantasy I ever imagined, and we once acted on them. All of them. Even the ones that made me blush whenever I looked at the alligator clips closing a bag of chips.
Everything about him screamed dominance and fierceness, but also safety, protection, and desire.
He balanced that raw edge near me, for me, every day we had been together. We were so wrong for each other, but I still feared losing him, especially when so many secrets and lies separated us.
His arm looped around my back, and his hand gripped my hair. I swallowed as he lowered close to me, his words softer than his touch. I melted. Seized. Shattered.
“Are you in trouble, Sweets?” His whisper rumbled a quiet authority. I knew better than to disobey.
“Now I am.”
“You know you’re safe with me.”
“I can take care of myself.”
“I want to help. I’m doing this to protect you.”
I didn’t push him away, but I should have wiggled from his embrace before I dissolved into a sticky mess. His arms tightened, and I stared at his perfect lips, thin and pulled against a hard jaw and harder chin. He was close enough to kiss, just a brush or a nibble. His touch could deliver me from the insanity and back to the only part of my life that made sense.
Loving him.
“We have a lot of work to do,” I said, softly.
“Nothing is going to happen to you, Sweets.” His promise burned me, just as I knew it seared through him and the scars he earned saving my life. “I won’t let anything hurt you.”
“What if you hurt me?”
“Never.”
“Are you so sure?”
He didn’t give me warning. He captured my lips, stealing my kiss and seizing everything I offered. A timid mew. Trembling hands. His tongue hungered for mine, searching for what I kept hidden—a vow I hadn’t yet uttered.
His touch wasn’t just familiar, it was right. Better than the dash of hazelnut in my coffee or the caramel drizzle over a brownie. His single kiss forced him back into my life, my world. For a year, I struggled with an imaginary Maddox, someone I could summon and dismiss and control in my own fantasies at night when the loneliness took hold. But the real Maddox wasn’t tame or quiet, and that was why I needed to free myself from him.
It was too hard to push him away. I shuddered as the heat pulsed from my core. I was ready for him with only a kiss. Hell, who was I kidding? I always wanted him.
But I couldn’t risk his life just to pretend we’d have a perfect future.
I pulled from his arms. My lips hummed, swollen from his kiss. I used to feel that way all over when I was with him. Now I only felt hollow, and I hated it. Hated this.
“Let’s go.” I hid inside my coat and aimed for the door, without looking back, without getting caught in the intense, roiling fire of his eyes. “But you aren’t coming inside the station with me.”
“You aren’t doing this alone.”
“It’s Saint Christie, what could happen?”
He didn’t wait for me, shoving his hands in his pocket. “I’ve been asking myself that for a year. Just hope we don’t learn it the hard way. I’d rather not bleed today.”
Cheerful. I forgot how much of a morning person Maddox was.
I closed the door, but he didn’t let me walk away.
“Lock it.”
My stomach dropped. I hated that he was right. Even if no one else was dangerous in the town, I knew that Nolan was responsible for the fire. Who knew what he planned? The mayor and hopeful state representative already burned my business to the ground, lusted after me, and framed my ex-boyfriend for the crime. This wasn’t Granddad and Nana’s Saint Christie anymore.
Then again, most of Saint Christie would agree Maddox was the reason for the locked doors and security systems.
He walked at my side, but it only served as a deterrent for other residents. Mr. Wilkens and his morning jog detoured through the park, slippery with dew. He landed on his behind twice, but at least he didn’t have to face Maddox, even if Mr. Wilkens had yet to pay him the two hundred dollars owed for work he did before he went to jail.
Usually, I couldn’t make it into town without half of Saint Christie wishing me a good morning and begging for a cookie order. Now? No one looked up. It broke my heart. How was any man supposed to change his ways if no one would grant him the courtesy of a hello?
Cripes, even Mrs. Greentree took an ill-conceived detour with Millie, leading her beyond her usual territory and right into Benjamin Ducacas and Jean-Baptise.
And then the fur started to fly.
Millie growled, lunged, and yipped at the poodle, snipping at his prize-winning leg. Mrs. Greentree pulled on the leash, panicking as Benjamin tripped over Millie and lost a shoe to a mud-puddle.
Curses were exchanged.
Names were called.
Breeders insulted.
We stopped outside the police station to watch the ruckus. That’s when Mrs. Greentree informed all who watched the confrontation of Benjamin’s wife and her relapse with the bottle. Benjamin shouted back, insinuating the shih tzu was half an inch too short for the standard breed and that she added a disqualifying bow to the dog to trick the judges.
Suddenly, the dogs weren’t the only ones fighting.
“Holy shit.” Maddox snickered. “Someone call the national guard.”
The leashes tangled, and frail Mr. Yocum parked his truck in the middle of Main Street to help Benjamin untangle the poodle from Mrs. Greentree’s lead. A minute passed, and third grade teacher Miss Summers grabbed her pruning shears from her trunk to free Jean-Baptise before Millie made mince-meat from his leg.
Traffic stopped, and it was officially a disastrous day for the town of Saint Christie.
“I’ll be back.” I pointed Maddox to the bench outside the station. “Will you be okay out here?”
“I’m happy long as I’m not inside there.”
I wished that wasn’t the truth with him. He crossed his arms behind his head and watched as the dispatched volunteer firefighters rushed to the scene of the dogs. Mrs. Greentree nearly fainted. Benjamin threatened litigation.
Jean-Baptise howled.
“Kinda miss some of this shit sometimes,” Maddox said. “Feels good to be home.”
Yeah, now if we could just keep him here and not in jail, we’d be set.
I snuck inside the police station—the one place I should have visited long ago with my concerns. Nolan. His motive. The threats. The bruises on my wrist.
But I couldn’t share my suspicions about the damned Mayor, even if my case against Nolan was far stronger than Maddox’s bizarre accusations against Chief Craig.
The receptionist stayed on the phone, but she waved me through the offices. I knew the layout too well—hard to forget when I’d picked up Maddox so many times.
“Josie! Good morning!” Chief Craig welcomed me into his office. He nursed a coffee that wouldn’t do a damn thing to soften the rock he called a muffin on his desk. He laughed and shared my disgust. “I know. Darla made me take a healthy breakfast.”