odd jobs and not much else. No one knew where he came from or the life history that had led him there, but he was a fixture in town now. A rather eccentric one. “At least that’s what she told me in no uncertain terms.”
“What did you say to her?”
“I just suggested she relax a little and have a little fun.” His vivid blue eyes were intelligent and amused. “She’s always so uptight.”
“You didn’t actually say that she’s uptight, did you?” Madeline asked, choking a little at the blasé shamelessness of the man.
“Course I did. Never seen someone so uptight. Not sure what it would take to loosen her up a little.” He paused, his eyes twinkling at her. “Told her that too.”
“Oh come on, Fitz,” Ria groaned. “You knew perfectly well that would upset her. She already doesn’t like you. Why do you poke at her that way?”
“Well, someone has to. She’s way too used to people doing what she tells them.” He grinned endearingly at Ria. “You wanted me to fix your kitchen cabinet?”
“Yeah. The hinge broke. I’ll show you.”
Ria led the man into the kitchen while Madeline and Skye hid their giggles.
The good thing was that the distraction had successfully concluded the conversation about Madeline and her secret fling.
Hopefully it wouldn’t come up again.
AT SEVEN O’CLOCK THAT evening, Ken was sitting in his recliner with Marlowe on his lap, drinking a beer and restlessly flipping the channels in the hopes of finding something on television that would hold his interest.
He wanted to see Madeline. Or at least talk to her.
But he’d texted her this morning, making it clear he would be happy to get together with her anytime she wanted. He’d left the ball in her court, and he needed to keep it there. Anything more would be pushy, and he was determined not to do that.
Just because he was aching to see her, touch her, kiss her, bury himself in her, didn’t mean she wanted to see him.
They’d had sex yesterday. She probably wouldn’t want a repeat performance for at least a few more days. Maybe not even for a week.
Maybe not ever.
That thought made his heart sink, so he didn’t dwell on it. Marlowe evidently sensed his shift in mood because the dog stretched up high enough to give his chin a sympathetic lick.
He’d gone through all his channels at least three times without finding anything to watch for more than a few seconds when his phone buzzed. He grabbed it, his heart lurching when he saw that the text was from Madeline.
You doing anything?
He pushed Marlowe down enough to tap out a reply. Nothing.
He waited a few seconds after he’d sent the text. When there wasn’t an immediate reply, he couldn’t help but add, You want me to come over?
I wouldn’t say no.
The rush of relief and excitement he felt was almost embarrassing. He was like a teenage boy getting lucky. On my way.
I’m worried about everyone seeing your truck in my visitor spot.
He replied quickly. I’ll walk.
It was maybe a mile to her place. Hardly anything. And the truth was he’d walk ten times that distance if it meant he could see her tonight.
Marlowe wasn’t happy about being deserted for the evening, but Ken could hardly show up for sex with a fifty-pound dog in tow. So he got Marlowe settled for the night, locked up, and started walking toward downtown.
He’d taken a shower earlier in the evening in the hopes of Madeline wanting to see him, and he was wearing jeans and a gray Henley. He would have put something better on, but Madeline would think it was weird if he looked like he’d dressed up for her. This would have to do.
It didn’t take long for him to get to Madeline’s block. It was already dark, and most of the town had shut down. Anna’s was still open, but there was no one on the sidewalk as he strode quickly to the exterior door of her building and went in.
He climbed the stairs and knocked. Madeline answered almost immediately.
When she’d let him in and closed the door, she asked, “Did anyone see you?”
“Nope. Not a soul. I was careful.”
“Thank you.” She slanted him a quick look. “You don’t mind, do you? If we keep this secret?”
“I couldn’t care less about that,” he told her, speaking mostly the truth. “Whatever makes you comfortable is good with me.”
“Good. Thanks.” She gave him another shy, little look. She wore a silky blue bathrobe. It