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A callused finger trails along my jawline and tips my chin upward, a devious glint in his baby blues. “Gonna catch flies in that pretty mouth, Jo.”
I miss his touch immediately as he steps around me, leaving my head whirring in desire.
I try to talk myself off that ledge.
He’s a client.
A friend.
You have rules, Jo.
But for every excuse the logical side of me has, the devious bad girl in me wants to throw caution to the wind and see where things could lead.
“Did I hear her right? She has a pet chicken?”
Madden grumbles in response.
“So where y’all headin’ again?” he calls from behind me, his voice muffled behind something. I turn on my heel to see him transferring Belle’s car seat to my Jeep.
“Oh, uhm…” I shake my head as I stammer over the words. I guess the chicken’s not that much of a concern. “Noble Farms, just outside Pooler. Erin and I take Ken-man every year.”
“Yeah, where’s she? Meetin’ y’all there?”
“No. Actually, I’m ridin’ solo because Erin came down with the stomach flu. She doesn’t want Kenny to get sick, so I’m keeping him at my place until she’s fever free.”
Madden’s face contorts into concern. “Y’all ain’t contagious, are ya? Belle gets sick, she’s down for days.”
I cut him off with a sweep of my hand. “No worries, Madden. I’d never subject her to the Black Plague or Swine flu.”
“What the hell kinda flu? That sounds serious, Jo. You’re sure she’s fine with you?”
“Relax, Daddy. It’s a twenty-four-hour tummy bug. Erin’ll live.”
Madden sucks his bottom lip and groans low in his throat, his eyes darkening.
I need a zipper on my big fat mouth!
“So what are you getting into today?” I redirect the conversation from treading into dangerous territories.
He scratches the five o’clock shadow framing his jaw and cocks his head. “Been runnin’ every day on the beach. Just to clear my head, ya know. Probably meet up with the guys for a beer later, if I can.”
“You definitely should. Everyone needs a little time to themselves, Mad. Don’t worry about Belle. She’s in good hands.”
Madden mutters something beneath his breath, but I can’t quite make it out. So to keep from further embarrassing myself, I continue with my thought. “In fact, why don’t you make a night of it. I can bring Belle home tomorrow evening.”
“Woah, darlin’, I agreed to a few hours at the pumpkin patch, not for you to play babysitter.”
“Oh hush it. Go out and enjoy yourself.”
“What if I want to enjoy myself with you?” Madden asks, closing in on me.
I swallow back a gulp of air that’s caught in my lungs and throw out the first retort that comes to mind. “That ain’t part of the plan, big guy.”
“Could be. Just say the word.”
Madden is so close I can smell the mint on his breath and clean scent of aftershave on his jawline. Except … he obviously hasn’t shaved for days. Recognition dawns on me—he’s playing his hand for mine.
