Taken by Storm (Give & Take) - By Kelli Maine Page 0,29

he slowly smiled, shaking his head. “What am I going to do with you two? You’re like fire and gasoline.”

“Yeah.” MJ thought about earlier, with her under him on the table, how easily she could get him worked up—like tossing gas on a fire. “We are.”

“Take it easy on her. I don’t know why, but it seems like she hasn’t had her head on straight since you two broke up. She’s got something stuck in her brain she’s being stubborn about.”

MJ had sensed it too, but he figured it was just him. Maddie not wanting to be around him.

He reached into his pocket and squeezed the damn ring. How long had she been with this guy? Long enough for him to be proposing?

“Good to see you helping out again,” a man said beside MJ, jerking him out of his thoughts.

Mr. Singleton stood beside him. MJ’s back stiffened. “Thanks.”

Coach chuckled. “If you call hanging around on the baseline with his thumbs in his pockets helping out.”

“No Maddie again this year?” Mr. Singleton asked. MJ wasn’t sure if it was the guy’s tone or his own imagination that implied more than what was on the surface of the question.

“She stayed home today,” he said, smugly.

“Hope she can make it to the game this weekend. We missed her last season.” He motioned for his son. “Let’s go, Charlie!”

MJ squeezed the ring in his pocket again. If it wasn’t Ring Man, it would be Mr. Singleton after her. He couldn’t take it anymore. Being around her was torture. He couldn’t get away fast enough.

Pulling into the driveway after practice, MJ parked beside a black Mercedes sedan he’d never seen before. The Old Man was always having business meetings, so it wasn’t like this was the first time he’d seen a strange car at the Rocha Estate. But, this one had him feeling uneasy. Too many surprises had been dropped in his lap lately—Rachael and Maddie to name two—and he didn’t want to be caught off-guard again.

He walked in the back door and glanced down the hall to his grandfather’s closed office door. The house was quiet, but it always was. Still, something seemed different.

“You’re home,” Mr. Simcoe said, bustling out of the great room. “Come with me.” He took MJ by the arm, spun him around and almost had him out the door.

“Wait. Where are you taking me?” He wasn’t walking into anything unprepared.

Something lit behind Mr. Simcoe’s eyes. A hopefulness. Eagerness maybe? But it was shaded with uncertainty. “MJ, your dad’s here.”

He stared at him trying to register the words. They came into his ears and jumbled before reaching his brain. There was no way he was putting them together right. “What?”

“Merrick. He’s here.”

Realization slammed into him full force, like a door shut in his face.

He wanted to run, scream, flip the fuck out, but he could only stand there staring at Mr. Simcoe, struck dumb. He cocked his thumb toward Enzo’s office. “Is he in there?”

Mr. Simcoe shook his head. “No. They spoke already. Very briefly. He’s back at the guest house with Rachael. Maddie’s in with Enzo. He wanted to make sure she knew what was going on so she could be there to support you.”

“Maddie?” His brain was tearing in two. One half wondering what the fuck Enzo wanted with Maddie, the other half scared shitless to meet Merrick.

“I’d hoped she’d be out of there before you came home so she could go along to the guest house with you. I’m sure it would be nice for you to have someone familiar along.”

“Familiar. Yeah. Maddie’s familiar.” What was this random string of words coming out of his mouth?

Mr. Simcoe patted his back. He probably thought MJ had lost his mind. “Will you wait for her?” Mr. Simcoe asked.

Should he wait for Maddie? He’d been waiting for her his whole life. A few more minutes wouldn’t kill him.

And he needed her there. He didn’t know if he could face Merrick alone.

“I’ll wait for her.” He glanced down at his old, dust-covered jeans. “I’m going to go up and change.”

He took a few steps down the hall.

“MJ?” Mr. Simcoe called.

He glanced over his shoulder.

“Everything will be fine. Good even. You’ll see.”

MJ nodded, not sure he believed him, and headed upstairs.

Eleven

Maddie dug her fingernail into the black leather chair in front of Enzo’s desk. “Leave my father out of this. He has nothing to do with it, and he’s disgustingly loyal to you.”

She wished she was digging her nail into his eye, especially

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