“Nope. Clothes aren’t necessary where we’re going.”
Her voice is a cross between turned on and confused when she whispers my name in a husky tone. “Maddox—”
I cut off any objection she’s planning to give by buckling her in, closing her door, then jogging around to the open driver’s side door. I have one foot in the Buick’s cab when the reason for the swift change up smacks into me.
Caidyn jerks up his chin when I ask him to forward me Justine’s school schedule. His response when I request for him to do it anywhere but at the Walsh family cabin is nowhere near as polite, but since I’m a hothead who rarely follows the playbook, I act as if he gives me the go-ahead.
Caidyn won’t care. He was raised in the same household as me, so he’s well aware the Walsh brethren don’t follow a rule book. We lead with our hearts while praying like fuck our heads get us out of the trouble love made us blind to.
If forced between taking a risk or losing the chance, I almost always choose the former, but when it comes to Demi, there’s no question. She is a risk I will always take.
12
Demi
Ieye Maddox curiously when he requests I close my eyes. I know the street he’s turned down. We’ve driven this very road multiple times the past couple of weeks, so why do I need to close my eyes?
With a chuckle that announces he loves my newfound stubbornness, Maddox tosses a pair of knee-high socks to my side of the car. “I’ll never force you to do anything you don’t want to do…but… you’re doing this.”
“I amnotputting your smelly gym socks anywhere near my face.”
We’ve been together almost twenty-four seven the past two months, but the jealousy in my reply can’t be helped. The couple of weeks Maddox courted Harlow Murphy her senior year was the longest relationship he had during our teen years. Its shortness didn’t make the hurt any less, though. I swear I was the only person on this side of the continent who cheered when they broke up, and even then, my win didn’t feel that victorious when rumors circulated about the reason for their breakup.
I’m glad not every woman in my hometown faced the childhood I did, but I still thought they’d need more than a stinky sock phobia to leave. Women and children are abused daily in my uncle’s industry, yet they’re forced to stay.
My eyes lift from my balled hands into my lap to Maddox when he says, “For one, they’re not my socks. They are yours.” I twist my lips.I thought they looked familiar.“Two, Harlow and I didn’t break up because my gym socks fucking reek.” He takes a second to relish my stunned expression before pushing out with a smile, “And three, you’re as cute as fuck when you are jealous.”
“I’m not jealous.”I am, but I’m not saying anything that will double the pompous gleam in his eyes. “I’m just…” Of all the days words could fail me, it happens to be today. “You seemed close…kind of in love.” My last four words are mumbles.
I choke on my spit when Maddox replies nonchalantly, “We were.” He grins like I’m not seconds from extraditing myself from his car by rolling onto the asphalt. “But it was like the love I have for my sister. There were no fireworks or moral-blinding chemistry. We gelled. It was simply more friendship-based instead of the rock-solid shit that will bind me to you for eternity.”
Through a gag, I ask, “How are you not working for Hallmark?” I sound upset even though I’m far from it.
I understand what Maddox is saying. It was the same for me when I accepted dates during our final year of high school. I didn’t want to be schmoozed. I simply didn’t want to be alone. My family is massive and spans across many continents, but I was so far from anyone’s thoughts, I was truly an outcast.
That’s why I so desperately craved to become a Walsh.
In a way, I have become one the last couple of weeks. It’s better than I could have ever imagined.
With that in mind, I unkink the knot in the knee-high socks, slip one over my eyes, then secure it behind the back of my head.
“Can you see anything?”
Excluding the scratchy white material making me excessively blink, I can’t see a thing. Although I am confident in saying Maddox is waving his hand in front of my face. I can’t see shadows, but the movement of his arm whips up his yummy scent. It makes me even hungrier than the grumble of my stomach announcing we haven’t had breakfast.
“Maddox,” I push out with a moan when he brushes the back of his hand down my budded nipple.
I lose the chance to shamefully beg for him to do it again when the noise of gravel under tires almost drowns out his reply, “What? I had to check you couldn’t see. You’re a snoop.”
“Since when has a boob-grab helped with eyesight?”
I can’t see Maddox, but the heat of his smile is undeniable. “Technically, they don’t. But…” He leaves me hanging long enough for sweat to bead on the top of my brow. “If your wickedly deviant head had spotted my hand’s approach, you would have pushed out your chest in silent pleading for me to hurry. The fact it stayed still, exposed you can’t see shit.” The aimless wave of my hand smacks into his rock-hard midsection a mere second before he raises it to his mouth to kiss the edge. He grazes his teeth over the meaty flesh, places a second kiss on the inside of my hand, then sets it back onto my lap. “Wait for me to come get you.”
When I lift my chin in understanding, he pops open the driver’s side door and steps out onto the gravel driveway of the Walsh family cabin. With one of my senses down, the other one takes up the slack. I hear him climb the front stairs of the porch and drag something across the lacquered wood before a crumbling noise overtakes the gentle splashes of water on the rocks behind me.
A bundle of nerves takes flight in my stomach when the distinctive stomp of Maddox’s feet drowns out the frantic beat of my heart. Excluding my twenty-second birthday, I’ve never been given a surprise before—well, not a good one.
Cool winds whip up around my legs when Maddox opens my door. They do little to dampen the fire roaring inside of me when my hunt for his lips from him leaning across me to undo my seat belt comes up trumps. The scruff on his chin keeps my accuracy high. It’s wiry but devastating to my senses when he uses it against me in the bedroom. It doesn’t matter where we are or what we are doing, the quickest whiff of his facial hair sends my head into a tailspin. It conjures up memories of long lovemaking sessions, greedy fucks, and the heart-mending snuggles we do after every marathon romp.
