“So?” Mad prompted. “Anything missing?”
Hailey slowly shut the refrigerator door and turned. “They ate my salad and roast chicken. I was waiting to throw it out until the garbage guy returned after Christmas. I didn’t want to leave it out in the garbage and have the raccoons get into it.” She wrung her hands together. “Oh, this is so sad. We should help this person.”
“We should report this person.”
“Mad!”
“No,” Mad said firmly. “You have to report them. What if he or she shows up again? What if they’re mentally unstable and feel threatened by you being here? You don’t know what you’re dealing with. We have to report all this and make sure it doesn’t happen again.”
Hailey bit her lip. “I guess.”
“And then we’ve got one week to turn you into a badass.”
“One week!”
She jerked her chin. “You reopen after the New Year, right? That’s one week.”
“I can’t possibly learn self-defense that quickly.”
Mad ran her fingers through her hair and shook her head for the confidently tousled look. “I learned to be beautiful in a week, right?”
Hailey looked extremely doubtful. Mad narrowed her eyes and Hailey rushed to agree. “Absolutely!” she exclaimed, though not very convincingly.
Mad put her hands on her hips, glad they’d settled things here. “All right, then. You get the word out to book club and anyone else you think might be interested in self-defense, and I’ll reserve some gym time. I’m thinking Thursday afternoon since most of us have off this week. Maybe Saturday morning too. Sunday we party for New Year’s Eve. Sound good?”
Hailey traced the tile of the kitchen floor with the toe of one velvet boot. “You really think you can get gym time that quick?”
“I have connections. We’ll ask Chief O’Hare when you make your report. He has the keys to the high school. Maybe he’ll even want to help teach.”
Hailey chewed on her fingernail. This was disturbing because Mad knew Hailey never liked to ruin her nail polish.
“Babe power!” Mad said, holding up a fist for a fist bump.
Hailey reluctantly released her fingernail. “Babe power,” she said a lot less enthusiastically. Her return fist bump was more like a soft nudge.
Mad made Hailey’s fist connect a little more forcefully.
“Ow,” Hailey complained.
Mad sighed. “We’ll work on it.”
Chapter Thirteen
Park drove back from Maine with Ty on Friday after spending a few extra days hanging out at Claire’s cabin, hoping the distance from Mad would help him cool off. He wished he’d had time to buy a car stateside because driving with Ty was irritating as all hell. It took a lot to get Park angry and Ty had just about got him there.
“All I’m saying is, you don’t mess around with Mad,” Ty said for the fifth time since they’d left Maine. Park was counting.
“Nobody messes with Mad,” Park said tightly. “She can take care of herself.”
“If our friendship…” Ty paused, “if our family means anything to you—”
“It means everything!” Park slapped a hand on the dashboard of the rented sedan. “Why do I still have to prove I’m worthy? Like any minute you guys are going to change your mind about me and give me the boot.”
Ty ignored that. “I know you’ve always had a soft spot for her and that’s why, back then and now, I told you she was off-limits.” The very first time Mad had caught Park’s attention at the town pool as a teen in a swimsuit, Ty had issued a very believable threat of bodily harm that put a quick end to Park’s quiet admiration. Then Ty had followed up his threat with a deal Park believed he had no choice but to accept.
“Not her,” Ty had said. “She’s not someone you mess around with and then dump. You want to keep your place with our family, then you treat her like family and that’s it. Deal?”
The Campbells meant too much to Park to ever risk losing his place with them. “Deal,” he said, earning a quick bro handshake. An overwhelming relief ran through him that his continued place in the Campbell family was no longer on shaky ground.
Now Ty was back on the same track, reminding him why Mad was off-limits. “She’s not some girl you hook up with and dump.”
“What if I don’t dump her?” Park asked. He felt accused and tried before he’d even had a chance. He knew he came from a crappy situation—his mom a junkie, his dad an alcoholic, his baby sister dead—but he’d grown up. His sister’s death had been called “crib death,” though he suspected it was neglect. So, yeah, he’d been pissed off as a kid and used his fists for a long time, but he’d worked hard to be better than that. He’d have a good job soon. Was he really that awful? Too low to be with the adored Campbell little sister?
“You gonna marry her?” Ty asked.
He pressed his lips together. He knew he wasn’t marriage material.
“Didn’t think so,” Ty said like he was onto Park’s nefarious intentions. Never mind that Mad had seduced him. Park wouldn’t have gone there otherwise, no matter how tempted he was. Mad deserved better than him, he’d always known it, and Ty knew it too.
Ty just wouldn’t let it go. “If you’re not gonna marry her, if it’s not serious, then hands off. I won’t stand by and watch you bail and break her heart again.”
Park startled. “What? What do you mean again?”
“She was devastated when you left for the Air Force.”
That hit him like a slap. “I know you said it was tough on her, but everyone was leaving. She was the youngest; it was inevitable.”
“No, it was different with you. It took her years…God, she’d kill me for saying this. Forget I said that. Marry her or cut her loose. It’s that simple.”
“You know I’m not cut out to be a family man.”
“That’s what she deserves and, if you care about her at all, move on. There’s plenty of women out there you can hook up with.”
Park glared out the front window, pissed off yet knowing Ty was right. He wasn’t serious about her. Wasn’t serious about anyone. He didn’t think he ever could be. He told himself it was for the better. He’d find a new place to crash as soon as possible so he wouldn’t be tempted living in the same house with her.
Ty socked his arm. “Glad we understand each other.”
Park said nothing.
“You know I’m going easy on you, right? I really wanted to kick your ass when—”
“Got it,” he said through his teeth, annoyed that Ty kept harping on the same point. “You’re the big brother.” And she was a grown woman who knew what she wanted. He’d never forget she wanted him to be her first. It meant a lot to him, even if he wasn’t, just knowing she’d chosen him.
“You used to look out for her too.” Ty scrubbed a hand over his face. “Ah, hell, I don’t want to think about it. Moving on. Why don’t you meet up with me in California after the New Year? I’ll introduce you around. I’m sure we could get you some work.”
“I’ll let you know,” Park said, accepting the peace offering. “I’m applying a bunch of places. I’d like to work on planes if I can. Use what I know.”
“If you wanted to work on planes, then why’d you leave the Air Force?”
He’d been tired of being shipped off to the desert, tired of being in war zones, missing home. Especially since Mad’s texts and emails had been less and less the last couple of years. He understood, she was juggling working and going to school, but he hadn’t realized how much that tie to home had sustained him until it was gone.
“Guess I was just ready for a change,” Park said. “Ready to come home.”
“Was it tough over there? I don’t even know some of the places you’ve been.”
Park filled him in on what he could, the early mornings, the late nights, all the volunteer 365-day deployments he’d signed up for in classified locations for the extra hazard pay. It wasn’t just enemy fire they had to worry about, eit
her; friendly fire from young recruits blowing off steam while they waited to be called to duty was also a danger. He was proud of his part in serving his country. His main goal, always, was to strive to be the man Joe Campbell raised him to be. A lofty goal, one he feared he could never quite reach with all his damage.
Ty told him all about the stunt work he did out in LA and sometimes in New York City or Vancouver. Exciting stuff, but Park found his mind wandering as thoughts of Mad and their night together flashed through his mind. That tattoo. He still couldn’t believe she’d matched him, right over her heart. Like she wanted to be reminded of him forever. Didn’t she know he was a bad bet?
By the time they arrived back home in Eastman, Park had convinced himself he was not the man for Mad. He’d explain it to her and hopefully she would understand. She might get pissy, but she’d cool off eventually. Then they’d go back to being friends.
Ty dropped him off with one last warning. “Don’t forget what I said.”
He bit back the snarky remark he wanted to say, how could I when you won’t shut up about it? He gave a curt nod, exited the car, and let himself in the house. At least Ty was staying in a hotel in the city and wouldn’t be in his face about Mad all the time.
She appeared at the top of the stairs and flashed a wide smile. His heart beat loud in his ears, the message harsh and insistent, danger, danger, danger.
“You’re back,” she said, heading down the stairs toward him.
He stayed frozen in place, hands at his sides. Her clothes were baggy—T-shirt with cargo shorts—and should not be tempting in the least, but his body was on high alert because he knew in exquisite detail the perfection underneath.
“Hey, little bit,” he said to remind himself as much as her what she’d always been to him. His pip-squeak to look out for.
“Hey, big guy,” she said in a voice dripping with innuendo as she sauntered over to him, making a big show at looking at his cock. She had noticed he was hung earlier. His cock rose in appreciation of the compliment.
No, wait. He wasn’t supposed to like that. He took off his leather jacket and casually held it in front of him.
She smirked. Yeah, she noticed. “Have a good time with the guys?” Her black T-shirt read Try Me and it was damn hard not to take that as an invitation.
“It was all right.”
She stopped directly in front of him. Up close she was all glossy and shiny. Her hair was in soft waves, she wore makeup that made her doe-brown eyes look wider, her cheeks and lips were rosy like she’d just had an orgasm. He clamped down on that thought and looked upstairs, away from her.
“Your dad home?” he asked. It was seven o’clock. He wasn’t sure if he was working over Christmas break.
“Left for work an hour ago,” she said, taking his jacket and tossing it on the sofa. She turned back, getting close enough for him to feel the heat of her sexy little body. Her T-shirt had a small V where she’d ripped the collar, revealing part of the tattoo that might as well have been his name. His fingers tingled, aching to trace the hawk over her heart. He pulled his gaze from it with great effort, sliding to her collarbone, up her slender throat, to her pointy chin.
“We gonna talk about this or just go for it?” she asked.
His gaze snapped to hers. “I don’t know what you mean.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her petite frame against him, all curves and strength. “We slept together.”
He peeled her off him with a groan. Leave it to Mad to boldly announce it. “That can’t happen again.”
Her eyes flashed. “Why not? We’re two consenting adults and we have the house to ourselves.”
“Ty—”
“Fuck Ty.” She lifted her chin, all belligerence, her legs shoulder-width apart in battle mode. This was a battle he couldn’t win. Either way, sleep with her or deny her, he’d screw things up for himself with the Campbell family.
He took a deep breath. “Okay, I don’t want to mess things up. I’m not…I don’t do relationships. Mad, you know…” His voice choked, his throat tight.
“Know what?” she snapped.
He cleared his throat. “You’ve always been special to me.”
She softened and took a step closer. He backed up a step.
“That’s a start,” she said.
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t. I won’t let you.”
He glanced toward the door. “Look, I’ll get a hotel or something.”
She blew out a breath. “It’s a three-bedroom house. There’s plenty of room for both of us. It’s not like I can’t control myself.” She met his eyes and frowned.
He so wanted to fix this. He didn’t want to fight or piss her off. He wanted to spend time with her again. Like they used to. He’d missed her so much for far too long.
“Can we go back to what we had before?” he asked. “Pretend it never happened.”
She stared at him like he was nuts. “Seriously?”
He pulled her in for a hug. “Sorry, that was a stupid thing to say. I’m just trying to make it easier.”
Her arms wrapped around his waist and she rested her head on his chest.
The least he could do was comfort her. He stroked her soft hair, glad she wasn’t too mad. Hopefully things would go back to normal soon.
Finally she lifted her head, and his heart lurched at the pain he saw in her eyes. She went up on tiptoe, her face tilted up at him. He froze. Her lips brushed across his, the soft touch luring him in. Still he hesitated. His body said go; his brain said stop.
She did it again, grazing his lips with another soft, teasing touch.
“Mad.” He had nothing more. Just Mad. His brain was shutting down.
Their eyes met for a long sizzling moment.
“Park,” she whispered.
He crushed her to him, deepening the kiss, the attraction too strong to deny. His mind clouded; there was nothing but her soft mouth, the heat, the undeniable pull to bring her closer. He lost himself in the kiss, his hands stealing under the back of her shirt, needing to feel skin. But it wasn’t enough. He backed her up against the wall, pressing his body fully against hers, his mouth claiming hers. Her hands were all over him. Red haze of lust. Intense. Overwhelming. Then she was unbuttoning his jeans. Oh God. He lasted ten minutes resisting her. What was he doing?
He grabbed her wrist, stilling her hand. She broke the kiss, twisted out of his grip, and met his eyes, breathing hard. They both were. Fuck. Maybe he should get a hotel.
He held up a hand. “I think—”
“Don’t think.”
He shoved a hand in his hair. “I’m going to go up. Got some things to do.” Like take care of this boner.
“Fine by me,” she said in a surprisingly agreeable tone.
He started toward the stairs and she kept up with him. He stopped. “Just me,” he ordered. “Mad, please.”
“I made a lot of effort to look nice for you tonight,” she said through her teeth. “I let Hailey do my hair.”
“You look nice,” he said, a little surprised she was fussing over her hair. That wasn’t like her. “Your hair is nice.” He found himself smiling because it was also kinda nice that she’d made an effort for him. Even if it wasn’t something he could follow up on.
She put her hands on her hips, always a sign she was pissed. “And Charlotte did my makeup, but that’s not good enough for you. I’ll never be one of those petite girly girls you like. You can just say it. I’m not your type.”
He regarded her for one solemn moment, saw the easiest way to shut this overwhelming thing between them down, and took it. “You’re right. You’re not my type.”
She sucked in air and staggered back.
He immediately stepped forward, reaching for her, but she jerked away. He wanted to take it back, wanted to spare her tender feelings. “Mad, time out, wait—”
“Screw you, Parker Shaw.” Her voice was quiet and deadly calm, which somehow m
ade it worse. “You don’t deserve me.”
He pressed his lips together, unable to deny it. “You’re right.”
She turned and crossed to the front door, opening it to the frigid cold of a December night.
He couldn’t help himself. “Take a coat; it’s cold.”
Her shoulders moved up and down like she took a deep breath and then she left.
He scrubbed a hand over his face. It was for the best, he told himself. He’d done the right thing. Except everything about this felt wrong. He couldn’t relax and found himself sitting on the sofa in front of the TV for hours, listening for her return. Finally, near midnight the door opened again. At the sight of her, whole and healthy, he finally relaxed. He knew it didn’t make sense. She’d been on her own for years, far away from him, but now that he was home, he felt tied to her again and needed to know she was okay.
He stood and crossed to her, wanting to make amends. He hadn’t meant she wasn’t his type. Far from it. “About before, you know…well, I hope you know…” He trailed off at the death glare she aimed at him.
“Glad you’re home,” he said to her retreating back as she headed upstairs.
He hated that he’d hurt her.
“Mad!” he called. “I didn’t mean…” He stood there for a moment and was about to follow her upstairs, but then he heard the shower running. Visions of a naked Mad in the shower flashed through his brain. That last time in Maine when he’d joined her in the shower. She’d been aggressive, pushing and pushing him until he couldn’t hold back his natural aggression anymore. He’d taken her too roughly, focused only on the dark urgings of his own body, only dimly aware of the noises she made. He didn’t even know if she was okay until he’d finished and her hoarse voice finally penetrated the lusty haze of his brain.
He flopped back on the sofa and turned up the volume on the TV, trying to drown out the sound of the shower. It was his own damn fault. He never should’ve caved to baser instinct. He had to think first, then take action.
Yes, that was the problem. He hadn’t stopped to think it through. He wouldn’t make that mistake again.
Inviting Trouble (Happy Endings Book Club, Book 2) Page 14