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Would he have insisted on driving Madelyn to accommodate her emotional turmoil? I didn’t know whether demanding the keys would be a caring act or a patronizing one. If there was anything I knew about this woman, it was that she didn’t like being told what she couldn’t do. She was already starting the ignition and pulling out of the parking lot.
I wanted to be that kind of guy for her—the kind of guy who’d look out for her and do anything in his power to keep her safe. Logan had been so devoted to protecting her that he’d damaged his relationship with her for a long time.
Or to do what Slade could, crack a few jokes and have her laughing freely with that sparkle of joy in her eyes. Make her forget about the worries weighing her down for a little while. But looking around the car, I couldn’t see anything I had a good idea to spin off of.
I might not be as good for her as either of them. But I’d give it my all. As I glanced over at her while she concentrated on the traffic ahead of us, a tiny line forming on her brow, determination flooded me alongside the clang of concern and desire and all sorts of other feelings I hadn’t totally identified.
I was going to be as good for her as I possibly could be, in every conceivable way.
I directed her through the streets to the apartment building, and I could tell from the way she repeated my instructions under her breath that she was committing the route to memory. She obviously expected she’d be coming here again. That knowledge sent an unexpected thrill through me.
The afternoon sun glared down at us from overhead as we crossed the parking lot. We escaped into the shadows of the lobby, and the elevator whirred us upward. When I opened the door to the apartment, a whiff of the lasagna I’d made last night tickled my nose.
Madelyn perked up. “It smells good in here. Have you been cooking again?”
“It’s a pretty regular thing,” I said, enjoying the eagerness in her tone. “I know we had lunch not too long ago, but if you want some of the leftovers, there are plenty.”
She licked her lips, a motion that sent a quiver of sensation straight to my groin. “I wouldn’t mind a bit. Just to give it a try.”
I had to smile. “My pleasure.”
And it really was.Thiswas something I could offer that was all my own. I got the casserole dish out of the fridge and cut out a half-sized portion before popping the plate into the microwave. Madelyn settled into a chair at the table like she belonged here, which pleased me in a wholy different way.
“I made it with sausage and beef, and the tomato sauce is totally from scratch,” I said with pride I couldn’t restrain. Not all of my culinary experiments turned out well, but I could tell when they had—and Logan and Slade had made it clear they agreed last night.
“Sounds fantastic. And smells fantastic. I feel like I need a little sustenance to get me steady again after seeing the office.”
“Perfect.” I set the plate in front of her and passed her a fork. I couldn’t help studying her response as she slipped the first bite into her mouth.
A gleeful smile crossed her lips, her shoulders coming down an inch from their previous tensed position. “You make lasagna as well as you make curry,” she told me, digging in with even more gusto. “Which means really, really well.”
I couldn’t say whether her enthusiasm for the food or the fact that it’d clearly helped soothe her nerves made me happier. A smile played across my own lips as I watched her finish.
A momentary boldness took over me. “If there are any favorite dishes you’d ever like me to try out, I’d love to see what I can do with them.”
Madelyn’s eyes lit up even more. She waved her fork at me. “I’m pretty sure I’m going to take you up on that offer, so you’d better mean it.”
“One hundred percent.”
After she’d set her plate and fork in the sink with a quick rinse, she turned, her gaze skimming through the apartment. Then she shot me a glance with her eyebrows slightly arched. “I haven’t seen your room yet. Or is that off-limits?”
My own nerves twanged with a weird combination of anxiety and excitement. “Do you want to see it that badly?”
She shrugged, looking abruptly awkward. “I mean, I think you can tell a lot about a person from their private space. And I’d like to get to know you even better. But it is private. You don’t have to invite me in just because I’m nosy.”
“You’re not nosy,” I said automatically. She wanted to understand me even better than she already did. I had no idea how to tell her what that meant to me.
Instead of speaking, I beckoned her over. “There’s nothing particularly secret in there. And I suppose it’s only fair when I saw your dorm room ages ago.”
“Good point,” Madelyn said, amusement lacing her tone. “Thank you for making such a solid argument on my behalf.”
I found myself grinning back at her. “Anytime.” I nudged the door open and stepped back so she could walk in ahead of me.
Madelyn eased past me and stopped in the middle of the room, turning slowly so she could take in the whole space. I was abruptly grateful that I had a thing about always leaving my bedcovers tucked neatly and keeping my clothes either hung up or in my hamper. There was no mess to put her off.
She focused on the bookcase, which I’d admit had the most interesting collection of items in the room. Reaching out, she skimmed her fingertips down over the spines of the forensic science and chemistry texts, my assorted cookbooks that had been my jumping off point but that I rarely consulted these days, and the shelves holding various puzzle boxes and other tricky contraptions I’d collected over the years.
A lot of them were from before my college days, but I hadn’t wanted to leave them at home. I wasn’t totally sure my younger siblings wouldn’t snatch them up and do who knew what with them if they proved too difficult.
