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“Dude, stop telling me shit I know.”
Matt blew out a breath. It was nearly time for Madison to leave, and he felt so fucking agitated. He wouldn’t be able to glance across the room and assure himself she was all right. Now that he knew she had vindictive assholes and killers after her, how would he handle that without losing his goddamn mind? Yes, he’d eventually learned to deal with Madison living in DC with that prick, Todd. But the thought of a world without her at all—because he hadn’t managed to keep her safe—tore him up.
“All right, but the rules that applied to Casey don’t apply to Madison. You get me? You don’t fucking touch her.”
“Wow. Every time you’re near this woman, you lose your mind. But go ahead; don’t do a fucking thing about it. I think you’re making a mistake, but that’s your problem. Mine is to keep Madison safe. And for the record, if she wants me to touch her, whether or not I do isn’t your decision.” Nash glanced over his shoulder. “You ready?”
Matt whirled to find Madison exiting his bedroom, backpack slung over one shoulder. A mulish twist of her mouth told him she held back tears. She’d tucked her dark braids under a nondescript cap and tossed on a pair of sunglasses. Her nose was suspiciously red. The sight kicked him in the gut.
“Let’s go.” She shouldered her way past Matt, not once looking his way.
“I’ll get the truck. Meet me by the back door,” Nash instructed.
When the big guy disappeared out the front and loped toward his truck, Matt caught up to Madison before she slipped out of the house. “Lie low. Don’t call anyone. Don’t go anywhere. Don’t do anything. You’ll be okay.”
He didn’t know whether he was reassuring her or himself more.
“Thank you for last night,” she said stiffly. “I wish things could have…ended differently.”
When she reached for the handle of the back door, something in Matt snapped. This might really be the last time he ever saw her. Even if he was angry with Madison for marrying Todd, even if they had no prayer of spending another weekend—much less their tomorrows—together, that reality nearly killed him.
He grabbed her arm, spun her to face him, and flattened her against the wall. It was stupid, impulsive, wrong, and destructive, but he couldn’t stop himself from whispering against her lips, “Me, too. Goddamn it.”
Matt plastered his body against hers and captured her lips. As the clock ticked, he didn’t have time to ease in, rediscover Madison bit by bit, or indulge in a leisurely exploration of her mouth. He ate at her hungrily, desperately, trying to inhale every nuance of her and imprint each detail to memory.
The taste of her was a sweetness he’d never forget. Every moment they touched, his blood rushed hot through his veins, pumping through his thudding heart and settling hot and heavy in his cock. Madison hesitated for the briefest of moments before she opened to him with a cry, clutching his shoulders and losing herself. She swayed against him, whimpering as if she’d die without him. He cradled her face, feeling hot tears spill down her cheeks.
At the slam of Nash’s truck door, she pushed him away, breaths heavy. She blinked up at him for a naked second like he was her everything. Heartbreak poured across her expression as she pushed a hand to his chest. “Goodbye.”
Then she was out the door—and out of his life.
* * *
By two o’clock that afternoon, the air was as still and humid as the fat ass of a pig lazing in the sun. And everyone Matt needed to talk to was having a fucking barbecue to celebrate the holiday, along with a “family” birthday bash for Luc and Alyssa Traverson’s daughter, Chloe, who was turning eight.
After squaring his cowboy hat on his head, he pushed his way from the house to the backyard and took in the brisket smoking, the tunes playing, the kids romping, and the beers chilling. There was no place he wanted to be at less than a celebration with happy couples and their adorable kids. It reminded him of what he didn’t have—and never would.
The famous chef and his drop-dead gorgeous wife stood in the center of the group, watching their little pale-haired princess in her birthday crown. Beside them, Luc’s cousin, Deke Trenton, who co-owned Oracle Security, hung close to his business partner, Jack Cole. Deke’s and Jack’s wives stood with their heads bent close—hair in two different shades of red—smiling in delight as they watched Chloe unwrap another gift.
Nearby stood Matt’s bosses and the owners of EM Security Management, Logan and Hunter Edgington, along with their stepbrother, Joaquin Muñoz. There was nothing weirder to Matt than seeing the trio of badasses he worked for—who could defuse a bomb as easily as they slit an enemy combatant’s throat—schlepping baby equipment and reining in little curtain climbers.
Hunter wrangled his squirmy two-year-old, Ledger, while scolding his older boy, Phoenix, about trying to force-feed the other kids bugs. Logan’s twins, Mandy and Macy, were a few months older than their insect-wielding cousin, but they were definitely louder, squealing bloody murder as they ran. Logan bent to calm them, a backpack full of plushies and Barbies falling off one shoulder, while his very pregnant wife, Tara, looked on with mirth. Joaquin had been late to the marriage-and-babies party, but he and his former ballerina bride, Bailey, seemed to be making up for lost time since he held his toddler, Eduardo, by the hand and wore an infant carrier across his chest with his newborn, Yasmin.
Around them, all the other kids ran and splashed and hollered in barely organized pandemonium. Deke and Kimber’s oldest, Cal, stood head and shoulders taller than the birthday girl and glared at the oldest of Tyler and Delaney Murphy’s five-boy brood. Seth, who had inherited his dad’s green eyes and the Murphy chin, glared right back.
The girl-posse, as the dads had dubbed them, were trying to convince the slightly younger boys that having a tea party would be great fun. Despite being four, the oldest of the little feminine dynamos, Dulce, proved she was a Santiago through and through by skillfully coaxing Blake Murphy, Ryker Walker, Knox Garrett, and Wilder Scott to sit at the plastic table. Lacey Cole plopped down on a hose reel next to them, then motioned Knox’s older sister, Hallie—who was Tessa’s spitting image—onto her lap and pretended to pour tea. Sierra Trenton smiled as she dished up mud pies.
From the pool, fast friends Brice Cole and Chase Murphy watched the scene, looking somewhere between disgusted and intrigued.
“Welcome!” Hunter finally noticed him and handed Ledger off to his wife, Kata, before he approached with a grin. “It’s Luc’s place, but since he’s busy, I’ll play host. What can I get you? Food should be ready in an hour or so, but there are chips and dips and beers—”
“I didn’t come to party. I came to talk.”
Hunter searched Matt’s face, then nodded. “Need anyone else on this?”
“Jack Cole.”
His boss froze. “It’s serious?”
