“Yes, way. I got my first tattoo on my sixteenth birthday,” Freya continued. “Anyway, I always loved watching him, so I thought maybe it was something I would like to do, but lo-and-behold, I can’t draw a stick figure. But I got really good at word art and calligraphy.”
“So, can you tattoo?”
“I hung out at the shop a lot, and even designed the wording for a lot of people’s tattoos, but I never learned.”
“Adrian’s always wanted a tattoo. He can’t decide on what he wants though. He almost got the old English Atwood family crest at one point, but his ex-fiance shot it down.”
Freya raised a brow. “Sounds like a bitch.”
“Nah, she was pretty cool. Still, gotta say I’m glad it didn’t work out with them.”
“I’ll bet. Why’d they break up?”
“Me,” Madeleine laughed.
“Homewrecking hoe,” Freya smiled, shaking her head.
“Hey, she’s the one who said he was in love with me. If she’d kept her mouth shut, he’d probably be married to her by now.”
“That’s insane to think about, especially seeing the two of you together. I can’t imagine him being truly happy with anyone else.”
“Imagining Adrian's unhappy period would be difficult. But I don’t know, Emily was a good person. And they always seemed so good together. Maybe he would have been perfectly fine without me.”
Freya shook her head. “He would have been fine, I’m sure. But I think you know there’s a huge difference between fine and happy.”
“You’re right. Huge difference. So do you think this storm’s going to get any worse?”
Freya looked at her phone to check her weather app. “We can check and see, but I can’t imagine it’s going to be some cat-five hurricane.” They listened together to the most recent weather report, as the meteorologist explained that Hurricane Beatrice had gained some power as she swept across the Caribbean, but was still
just a category two.
“Couldn’t hurt to take some precautions,” Freya shrugged. “But still we’re in the state’s dip. Stuff like that rarely hits us.”
Silent until now, Beulah spoke up from somewhere among the bookshelves. “It’s going to hit us hard, I tell ya. Just you wait.”
Something about her warning made a shiver pass through Madeleine’s spine. She swallowed, despite Freya’s skepticism. She needed to get home and talk over some preparations with Adrian. Madeleine purchased her books and told Freya goodbye, then set out towards home. Outside, the sky was a perfect blue, and the sky was cloud-free.
“Calm before the storm,” Evelyn began in a sing-song voice as she joined Madeleine in her stroll.
“Nah. It’ll be fine. Besides, I like a good storm.”
“Yeah, except this one might destroy that magazine-perfect house of yours. You remember having to do renovations to McCollum Manor with Lee? Nearly ended y’all’s marriage right then and there.”
It was Madeleine’s turn to roll her eyes. “Which had nothing to do with the fact that we had just lost a baby, or that Lee was constantly drunk. Or cheating on me with his realtor.”
“Still upset about it? Does the thought of Lee Atwood still make your heartbeat wild? Aren’t you worried about him?”
“Yes to both,” Madeleine answered. “He still makes my heart beat wild with anger and I’m always worried he’ll ruin his own life again.”
“You should check your Instagram” Evelyn teased as she handed Madeleine her own phone.
As soon as the app opened, Madeleine saw exactly what Evelyn was talking about. Her mouth fell open in…surprise? Shock? Complete and utter amusement? “What the ever-loving…How did that happen?” Madeleine asked, staring down at a picture of Lee and Emily, dressed to the nines, joined at the hip, posing for the cameras at some event — the Art Meets Tech exhibit at the High, according to the caption.
It was unfathomable—they’d more or less only put up with each other for Adrian’s sake before, and now? They looked happy. And if Madeleine was reading their body language correctly—they were happy together. “Well, that’s…interesting,” Madeleine laughed.
Evelyn’s expression faded and her shoulders fell as they came up to the back gate of the house. Perhaps she had wanted a greater reaction from Madeleine, and while the picture had been shocking, Madeleine thought the idea of Lee with Emily of all people was
hilarious.
The second Madeleine set foot in the house, she knew she’d have to step right back out to find Adrian. She heard a circular saw whining in the backyard; was he working on building whatever it was he was designing? The thing that Freya had insisted she would love?
She wanted to go outdoors and satiate her curiosity, but she thought she’d grab Adrian a bottle of water first. The second she stepped outside, she was glad she’d brought the water with her. To say that Adrian had worked up a sweat was a definite understatement. His entire upper body was sweat-soaked and glistening in the summer sun. Madeleine couldn't help but admire his body. Again. Jesus, she’d have to learn to keep herself calm around this man.
Yeah right, she said to herself.
“Thirsty?”
He looked up at her as she approached, water bottle outstretched in her hand. He cut off the circular saw and took the water, guzzling it. He had half the bottle chugged before he stopped drinking.
“Thanks,” he said in a grizzled tone. “I was freaking parched.”
Madeleine shook her head at his use of vocabulary but smiled. “So what are we making here?”
“Makeshift hurricane shutters for the top floors. Wish I would have thought to replace the regular shutters with the real things but I didn’t. I’ll know for next season I guess.”
“We probably won’t need them. It’s just a category two, and you know they rarely hit Savannah. I mean we should take some precautions, but these might be over the top."
“The locals seem worried. Like the generational locals. I trust them more than I do the meteorologists.”
“Imagine if someone didn’t trust your word as an engineer,” Madeleine said with a tsk.
“Imagine if engineers were only accurate half the time. The whole world would fall apart.”
“Or at least half of it?” Madeleine chimed in response.
“You’re so damned cute. And you better be grateful for it. I
might not have as much patience with you otherwise,” he said, pinching at her cheek and popping a kiss to her lips.
Which reminded her. “You will not believe who I just saw on Instagram together. It will blow your mind.”
“Oh my God, Cardi B and Nicki Minaj?”
Madeleine narrowed her eyes. “What? No. Why would— nevermind. You’re going to have to see it to believe it, anyway.” She took out her phone and searched through her feed to find the picture of Lee and Emily.
When she passed her phone to Adrian, she watched as his face fell as if in slow motion. There were so many emotions that she could read into his expression. Adrian pushed her phone back into her hand. “I can’t believe him,” he muttered.
Madeleine gave him a quizzical stare. “Are you angry?”
“Um, yes. I am. I mean, he doesn’t even like her. But look at him, hanging all over her, and she’s obviously flashing every asset she can—”
“Wait a second. Why do you even care? I, personally, find it hilarious. You said it yourself —they don’t even get along!”
“Madeleine, you know Lee. He’ll hit it and quit it. Now that you’re gone, he’ll be back to the old Lee. But going for Emily is nothing but yet another way to get back at me.”
Madeleine looked at him, dumbfounded. “Do I need to worry you’re not over her?”
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he said, eyeing her.
“It’s a reasonable question, given your reaction. They’re grown, single adults, free to make whatever horrible decision they choose. And, we don’t even know that they’re dating.”
“Oh
yeah, we do. Look at that picture again. It’s all in the way he’s touching her or the way she’s looking at him. And his hand is totally on her ass.”
Madeleine peered at the picture again. Adrian was right. They couldn’t get any closer if they were… well, Madeleine didn’t like to imagine much past that, but even if they were, it was no business of hers. Or Adrian’s.
“Okay, so they’re dating. Who cares?”
“Me. I care. I may not love her anymore but I do care about her, and I don’t want Lee to hurt her just for the sake of pissing me off.”
“Oh, come on, Adrian,” Madeleine dismissed. “Lee’s had time
to recover and get his head straight. He’s been practically M.I.A. from every social event since we got a divorce unless it’s some Atwood Technologies-related thing.”
Adrian raised a brow. “Are we keeping track of him?”
“What? No, I just—”
“That’s what you accused me of—”
“I know you’re over her.”
“Then why say it?”
“Because you’re getting so defensive over a picture we may be reading too much into.”
“You obviously came to the same conclusion I did. You wouldn’t have shown me the picture otherwise.”
That much was true. She shook her head. “This is ridiculous. We’re not going to fight because our exes are dating. Is it weird? Yes. But we made a life for ourselves and they’ve got every right to do the same.”
Adrian shook his head. “I’ve got to finish these shutters.”
“Fine,” Madeleine said in a huff. “I’ve got work to do myself.”
“Yeah, you need to pack us up. And store anything valuable we don’t want water-damaged.”
“Ade, this storm isn’t going to be—”
“Just in case.”
Madeleine felt her jaw drop before the protest came spiraling out of her mouth. “Where is all this coming from?”
“I’m just trying to protect my wife and my home. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“Adrian Atwood, I do not—did you just call me your wife?”
His scowl immediately dissipated, replaced with a shy grin that made his eyes crinkle. “Did I really?”
Madeleine beamed. “It was cute.”
“Can’t be that surprising though, right? You’re kinda the greatest thing that ever happened to me.”
She walked forward and leaned in to kiss his cheek, but he moved last minute to press his lips to hers. A simple peck on the cheek evolved to a long, deliciously sweet kiss that made her lightheaded.
“You are gonna marry me, right?” he asked, grasping her left hand in his.
“That was the plan,” she smiled. “But if you’re not over your
ex.”
“Emily’s kind of the reason we’re even together right now. I feel like I owe her. Maybe we should invite her to the wedding,” he added in a tease.
Madeleine took the opportunity to fire back. “Be prepared if you do. She’ll bring Lee as a date.”
Adrian sighed. “I still don’t like it.”
“You don’t get a vote in this, either. And, if Lee’s doing it just to get back at you, he’s only got the power to do that if you allow it. Now, what can your wife do to help with the damned shutters we won’t need?”
He pressed another kiss to her cheek. “I love you. Grab a pair of safety glasses and I’ll teach you how to cut this sheet metal.”
Chapter Nineteen
Lee wasn’t sure how it happened, but from the second they had gotten to the end of her street that evening, an accidental brush of their hands had become an inexplicable game of touches between them. At first, it was an honest mistake; his hand had grazed hers as he settled his forearm on the center armrest. Their eyes met as he pulled to a stop sign, communicating an understanding neither of them were yet willing to say out loud.
Emily moved to accommodate his arm, and before they had even made it halfway down the next street, Lee felt the knuckle of her index finger brushing in a gentle pattern against the back of his hand.
He had prepared to keep himself under control that night. But that simple touch made him think of whiskey—smooth, intoxicating, and it only made him thirsty for more.
When he offered to help her out of the car, his hand magnetically attracted to the bare skin exposed by the deep v in the back of her dress, the diamond pendant gleaming in the sunlight. Every time he thought they were out of the world’s line of sight, his hand found its way to her back to trace the same pattern she had made on his hands in the car.
He searched for a signal that Emily didn’t want his hands on her, like a subtle shift away or some redirection. Maybe she’d be overt and tell him to keep it in his pants. But, if she thought of rejecting him, Emily made no indication of it.
In fact, she matched his touch with her palm meeting his chest or arm when she was referring to him in some old anecdote. During dinner, and an unbearably boring speaker, Emily wrapped her leg around his and moved the slit in her dress to allow his hand to roam across her thighs beneath the tablecloth. He was thankful they’d snagged a table in the back corner of the room because more than once he found her hands dangerously close to his aching, swelling groin. After her second attempt, Lee grabbed her hand and, reminding himself to be gentle with her, placed it back in her lap with a warning whisper. “Do it again and I’ll bend you over this table right now.”
Before he even had the chance to stop her, she ran her hand right over his stiffening cock and he could do nothing but squeeze his eyes shut and pray she’d have some mercy. “You might be used to sweet and submissive, Mr. Atwood, but rest assured, that’s ending tonight.”
He cursed to himself. “I’m not used to being bossed around, Miss Parker, and there’s no way in hell that’s changing. Not tonight, or any other night.”
Emily sat back in her chair, amused. “We’ll see about that.”
“Jesus Christ how much longer is this going to last?” he muttered, hoping his hard-on would die down soon.
“Another couple of hours, at least,” Emily sighed. “After dinner, they’ll have some time to take another look at the exhibits.”
“We need a decent excuse to leave.”
Emily cut her eyes at him. “We can’t leave. We’re the ones in charge here.”
“Which means we should be able to leave whenever we feel like it.”
“You know that’s not how it works,” Emily chided him.
“Oh really now?” Lee said, standing up. “Because I’m leaving.”
Emily stared up at him. “Lee, you know I can’t do that.”
He stooped down to eye level, palm covering her knee before slowly edging all the way up her dress to the hot, wet space between her thighs. She gave a shaky breath, and Lee imagined being planted there between her legs. “Listen, I meant it when I said I’m not used to being bossed around, so when I say I’m leaving, you better believe if your ass isn’t in the car within the next five minutes, you can find another way home.”
“You’d really do that to me?” she asked with a raised brow as he stood. “I thought you could exercise a little more control.”
“I’m exercising the exact type of control I want. Five minutes.”
“How about a compromise?”
“What kind of a compromise?”
She gathered her clutch and took his hand, leading him out of the room and back through the exhibit to a door labelled ‘staff only’. Emily reached into her clutch and took out her ID card and swiped it in front of the entry pad. It emitted a green light and Lee heard the door locks click in place. Emily led him down a darkened hall to a set of elevators and pressed the top arrow. “There are cameras in the elevators, too, so don’t get any ideas just yet,” she warned as the elevator doors swept open.
“So I can call up security on Monday and ask for the footage as a memento, right?” Lee joked as they stepped onto the elevator. “Can they record audio, too?”
Emily shook her head as she pressed the button for the third floor. “Not as far as I know. But I guarantee you, this building has more cameras and security than Atwood Technologies.”
“So where are we going?”
“My office,” she said with a sideways grin.
“Office sex. Hot,” he joked as he leaned against the side of the elevator.
Emily gave a nervous laugh. “Never thought we would steal away for an impromptu hook up.”
“Neither did I,” he added, shaking his head. “You know we don’t have to, right?”
“Awww, here comes the gentlemanly side of Lee Atwood,” Emily teased as the elevator stopped and opened with a soft chime.
“I keep it hidden, but I promise, it’s there,” he said as she led him down a dark hall of doors he assumed were all offices.
“Can you keep Gentleman Lee tucked away for the night? Maybe bring him out in the morning? Have him make breakfast?”
“Gentleman Lee makes damned good waffles.”
“Sounds like a plan,” she said in a deep tone that made a shiver run down his spine and his cock instantly hard. They finally arrived at a door at the very end of the hall and Emily swiped her ID again to gain entry to her office. She walked in, and Lee followed, nerves frazzling as he walked into her completely glass corner office. It wasn’t risking being seen that bothered him, not at all—hell, he was all about doing anything risky. He’d be lying if he said it didn’t turn him on.
What Lee was experiencing now was more so “performance anxiety”.
“Em?”
“I’m on birth control, promise. But, I’ve got condoms, just in case you don’t trust me yet,” she said, rifling through her clutch to pull out two different condoms. The office was dark, save for the moonlight that flooded in behind her.
Lee shook his head, surprised, but grateful she was prepared
because he certainly wasn’t. “It um, doesn’t matter to me. Especially if you’re on birth control. Look, I do think you should know it’s um…it’s been a while.”
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