Taken by Storm (Give & Take) - By Kelli Maine Page 0,47
conversation with Heidi. “Show me around inside?”
He had a powerful urge to take her up to his room and show her a lot of things. “Sure.”
She kept her hand on his arm as they strolled through the door into the lounge. “This is where guests would hang out,” he said, sounding stupid, but it wasn’t like he was a Turtle Tear expert.
“Are Rachael and your… is Rachael going to open it to the public?” She held on a little tighter, like she was afraid her almost slip of mentioning the D-word would make him pull away. MJ hated putting her on edge like this, making her feel like she was on eggshells around him. It had never been this way between them.
It wasn’t his fault they were apart, and he wouldn’t feel guilty for the strain in their relationship. What did she think would happen when she left?
The mental tug-of-war was killing him.
Was there something wrong with him that he couldn’t let go of the anger? He hated the grudge he kept between them, like a big box packed with memories he held pressed between his chest and hers, keeping them apart.
If he’d packed their memories away in that box, why couldn’t he move on?
“MJ?” Maddie tilted her head looking up at him with curiosity, probably wondering where she’d lost him.
“Sorry.” He rubbed the back of his head. “I’m not sure what Rachael’s plans are.”
He led her down the hallway to the grand entryway. She spun in half a circle, gazing up at the mural-covered walls and high, beamed ceiling, still hanging on to him. “This is amazing.”
He loved the way her eyes lit up as they darted around trying to take in as much as they could. He loved the look of awe on her face, and the clean, soapy scent of her hair as it swung toward him. He loved her, even if he didn’t want to.
He did want to.
More than anything.
Rachael’s laughter made MJ and Maddie turn their heads toward the kitchen.
“I’m telling you,” Beck said, out of sight, talking to Rachael, “he’s gone over that chick. He’s trying to play it cool, but Junior can’t hide how pussy-whipped he is.”
Son of a bitch. MJ was going to kick that guy’s ass.
Beck and Rachael, who was flushed from laughing at Beck’s comment, stopped abruptly under the large archway separating the entryway from the kitchen. MJ met Beck’s eyes, and Beck couldn’t possibly miss how pissed he was.
Beck smirked and lifted his chin.
Rachael glanced from one to the other, then stepped between them, breaking the tension. “Here’s your drink, Maddie.” She handed Maddie a tall glass filled with something clear, a lime wedge stuck on the rim. “Dinner’s almost ready. I’m starving. Let’s go back out and sit down.”
“Good idea,” Maddie said, steering MJ back down the hallway by his arm. “Are you okay?” she whispered in his ear.
“That guy’s an ass,” he whispered back, his nose brushing her cheek. He wanted to keep it there and nuzzle her neck.
She stifled a laugh by putting her fingers to her lips.
“What’s so funny?”
She glanced up at him smiling her beautiful Maddie smile. “You.” She squeezed his arm, pressing her chest against him in a hug.
They pulled two round patio tables together, and MJ held a chair out for Maddie to sit. The chef, Carlos, brought out baskets of tortilla chips, strips of steak and chicken sizzling on cast-iron skillets, and painted ceramic bowls filled with grilled peppers and onions, guacamole, shredded cheese and every topping a person could want on a fajita.
As they ate, Maddie’s thigh rested against his. Once she reached for the salsa and her breast brushed his arm. He wanted to pull her body against his and keep her there for the rest of the evening. All through the night.
“How’s your father, Maddie?” Heidi asked between bites. “It’s been too long since I’ve visited.”
Maddie drew the tines of her fork through her rice, contemplating something. It wasn’t the first time MJ wished he could read her mind. He put his hand on her knee, and she flinched at his unexpected touch.
“He’s good,” she said. “I wish I could spend more time with him. Wish he’d retire.”
Heidi took a sip of her water. “I don’t know what my father would ever do without him. Those two are like Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson.”
“More like Jekyll and Hyde,” MJ muttered and shoved a chip in his mouth.
Beside MJ, Rachael let out a small laugh that she tried to