He’d lost the string of the conversation. Something about more evidence . . . or not. He couldn’t remember. “All I did was dive on Evan. I’m fine.”
Evan wasn’t. He’d survived the two shots, but he would be in the hospital for a long time. There was a fear of infections and secondary problems. Connor didn’t understand all of it, but he did get that Evan’s life would never be the same.
From the hospital he would go to a series of hearings and, Connor hoped, eventually prison. All signs pointed that way. He wasn’t denying what he did to Maddie. He wore it as a badge of honor. Even suggested his old office adopt his training program as standard procedure.
The general view, or at least the one Evan’s old boss was willing to share, was that Evan had some sort of break. He’d always been too focused on Maddie and had been disciplined for that. The last round landed him on administrative leave and that’s when his reality seemed to splinter.
He bragged about disciplining her and talked about teaching others his techniques. It scared the hell out of his bosses . . . and so did meeting Maddie. She made it clear she blamed them for not exercising oversight over Evan. Connor knew she was prepared to negotiate to get Evan specialized help for his break from reality, if he would take it.
Connor couldn’t be that generous. Maybe one day when he no longer closed his eyes and saw Evan pointing the gun at her head, but probably not. He stayed up most of last night thinking about that.
But since he couldn’t remember if he’d answered her question, he tried now. “I’m just tired.”
She set her mug on the coffee table. “Of?”
He needed more sleep to keep up with this conversation. “What does that mean?”
“You’re still running.”
He groaned inside. “Maddie, don’t.”
“Evan tried to kill you.”
“And you.” She kept jumping over that horrifying point but he couldn’t.
“Why did you insist you be the one to walk in there? You were so vulnerable. A pure target since Evan hated you so much. Even more than he hated me.” She dropped her feet to the floor but didn’t stand up. “Ben told me you didn’t give him much of a choice about the plan.”
“It felt like time was running out. If Evan was willing to grab you during the day like that, risk having us all track you down, I knew he’d lost perspective and feared he thought he had nothing left to lose.”
She stood up and hovered by the couch. “You didn’t answer my question. Why you? There were law enforcement people on the island, even more than usual. You went in. Why?”
“Could we do this another time?” Preferably when he was on his game.
She wanted him to unload. He got it. But he was the wrong guy for that. That sort of emotional response was burned out of him when Alexis died. He thought all of his feelings died that day, but knowing Maddie taught him differently. There were pieces and fragments left. For her, he’d try to pull them together and be as close to whole as possible.
She tilted her head as she stared at him. “What do you see when you look at me?”
This felt like a trap. Any answer could lead them down a dangerous path.
He didn’t know what she was digging for, so he went with the truth. “A beautiful survivor. Someone who cares about others even though she is desperate not to.”
She smiled but didn’t say anything.
That reminded him of his favorite part of her. “You have this smile, which you hide most of the time. But when you show it, it’s blinding.” She didn’t move, so he didn’t stop. “Your oversized coats make me laugh and your body makes me weak.”
“Sweet talker.”
“I can be whatever you want me to be.” He would turn himself inside out to please her. Step in front of a bullet to save her.
Other than for family, he’d never really felt this level of connection before. He hadn’t made time for deep relationships and before Alexis died didn’t think he was ready.
She frowned at him. “How about honest?”
“What does that mean?” He searched his mind for a single time when he’d lied to her and came up empty.
“Saving me—”
“You saved yourself, Maddie.” He knew because he’d relived the scene in slow motion every time he closed his eyes last night. “You shot Evan and made sure I wasn’t in the firing line.”
“Do you feel anything for me?”
What the fuck was this about? “Everything.”
“What?”
They stood on opposite sides of the room and right now it felt like different corners of the state. She searched and poked and looked for the right answer. He wished he knew what it was.
“I feel everything and it scares the shit out of me.” Had him panicking and making excuses for why he should cut out early before this relationship grew into love and took a piece of him. The games running through his head to protect the heart he thought he no longer had surprised even him.
“I feel like you hold back.” She glanced at the floor before looking back up at him. “I mean, I know what’s between us is new, and it happened under odd circumstances, but it feels real. At least to me.”
The truth hit him. This was the relationship talk. She wanted to know where they stood, which was fair. He was still working that out himself. “I don’t want to leave you. This might be new to both of us, but I want to explore it.”
She made a humming sound. “Okay.”
“That’s it?” For some reason he didn’t feel as if he dodged a bullet.
“I guess that’s enough.”
Later that night he pushed into her for the last time and let the orgasm overtake him. As the last of the pulses hammered him, he let his body fall heavy against hers. Let the smell and taste of her wash through him.
Her softness lured him in every time. Tonight started in the shower and continued on the sheets. Even now, damp piles were trapped underneath him. She had her legs wrapped around his waist and her fingers plunged into his hair. She held him close and kissed his neck.
The lovemaking mirrored every other time they had fallen into bed. A wild frenzy of need that slowed and sped up as their moods changed. A space where they were free to do what they wanted, ask for what they needed.
He loved that about her. The way she owned her pleasure. She didn’t hide from it. She pushed him to do the same.
In such a short time, they’d bonded and connected. In here and out there.
“We’re going to need another shower.”
Her words broke through his mental wanderings. He wasn’t even sure why his mind had taken off. He usually stayed in the moment with her. Steadied his breathing and calculated how long it would be before he could be inside of her again.
“I’m happy to shower as many times as needed.” He had to force the words. They didn’t flow naturally like they usually did. He wasn’t even sure they made sense in context.
But she didn’t complain. She’d barely said anything tonight. Her consent was clear. He asked for it because that’s what he did. They both needed to be in the mood for him to want it. He wasn’t a sex-for-the-sake-of-sex guy. The days of quick hookups for relief were far in his past.
His mind refused to shut off. Something bugged him but he couldn’t tell what it was. It pricked at the back of his mind, just out of reach. He tried to assess and analyze but those skills abandoned him as well.
That was annoying as hell.
Every piece of tonight had been good but not mind-blowingly great. He wanted to blame exhaustion and all they’d seen and been through over the last few days. Switching houses, worry, panic. A shooting. The list of horrible examples stretched out pretty long.
He rolled off her onto his back and stared at the ceiling. He didn’t go far and still held her hand.
This was the part where they talked. Curled around each other in the darkness and laughed. Told a joke or a story. Relived something that happened that day. It was their ritual. An intimacy shared in
the darkness that went beyond sex. Those moments were about connecting, about learning things about her other than how to give her pleasure.
In those quiet minutes of understanding she started to mean more to him than he’d planned. The vacation fling he thought they both expected blossomed into something deeper. They practically lived together—they actually had for two weeks—but this was the first time he felt a chasm stretching between them.
There was an easy argument about the danger working as an aphrodisiac. He discounted that as soon as he thought it.
He was overreacting. A tired body and a frazzled mind. That explained their last few days. No wonder the mood felt . . . off.
He rolled over, thinking to wrap an arm around her and drag her close to his side. Just as he did, she turned. Away from him. She didn’t inch to the edge but she didn’t rest against him either.
The closeness he’d come to expect vanished.
He hoped it was just for one night.
Maddie waited until Connor’s breathing grew heavy to ease out of bed. The mattress dipped under her but when she turned to look at him, his eyes stayed closed.
She made it to the bathroom before letting go of the breath she’d been holding.
The night hadn’t gone as she’d hoped, but it was about what she’d expected. He’d shut down the emotional side of her right after he made that declaration at the prison. For a few seconds she caught a peek of who he was underneath. Before Alexis died. It had been mixed in with the terror of the moment when she’d been so sure and stunned by the idea that Evan might kill Connor.
She rested her palms against the marble countertop and stared at her reflection in the mirror. She could only hold it for a few seconds before her gaze dropped. She was naked but no part of her felt exposed. He closed down rather than opened up. When the communication ceased, they fell back on sex. Good sex but sex with a piece missing. She never knew how important it was until they lost it.
She looked at him and saw a future. It was too early for love declarations but the words hung there. So close. All of that shut down when he pushed her away. Not physically but with every other part of him.
Again.
She wanted all the pieces. Every last one, ugly or not. She hoped to help him carefully step through the emotional battlefield left by Alexis’s death. Let him grieve and grow and realize they had something precious. Something they would need to cultivate and feed.
It was a grown-up conversation, and he wasn’t ready to have it.
She wanted all of him and he wanted a bed partner.
That reality filled her with a dragging sadness she couldn’t kick. It leaked over into the bedroom. Now it would kill everything else.
Chapter 35
The next night Maddie skipped their usual dinner together. She decided to go out with Sylvia and spend more time getting to know Jenna. The three of them had taken off for a Girls’ Night that left Connor alone.
He liked that she was learning to reach out and make friends. That gift had been stolen from her for so long. The first bit of excitement he’d seen in her all day spiked as she rooted through her closet looking for the right thing to wear.
Connor felt like a spy watching the going-out ritual happen. When she twisted her hair up in an intricate knot he almost asked her to take it down and do it again. The way her hands moved and her fingers slipped through the strands. It was such an intimate peek into who she was and the part of her that she’d buried in favor of safety.
But now he was by himself and looking for food. That led him to the Lodge. Sylvia, Jenna, and Maddie might not be there, but he could go in. That wasn’t weird. Men ate alone. He’d done that plenty of times before he found her.
He kept telling himself it meant nothing. Nothing at all. It wasn’t a reflection on him or them as a couple. One night apart was normal, even. Others did it. He could adjust and get used to it.
The first person he spied was the guy who ran the market. He sat with two other men at a table by the window. Then he saw Ben. He sat at the counter, nursing a beer. No one bothered him. All that crime solving had earned him some downtime but Connor was half surprised that the residents of Whitaker respected that. Probably had something to do with the don’t-bother-me vibe Ben gave off.
If the last day hadn’t dragged and had his sense of security flipping upside down, he would have left the man alone. He’d probably also be with Maddie right now, but that was beside the point.
He slid onto the barstool next to Ben’s and immediately started playing with the napkin the bartender on duty for Sylvia slid in front of him. He folded and unfolded the edge. Ran his finger along the seam as he ordered a club soda.
He didn’t drink in support of his father’s abstaining, and he didn’t miss it, except for the ritual of it. Holding a drink always made it easier to stand around and talk. Not that he was a big talker.
Ben watched him, his gaze switching from Connor’s face to his fingers. “What did you do?”
Connor’s hand froze. “I just walked in the door.”
“It’s snowing. You just survived a dangerous situation. You’re sharing a house and bed with Maddie. And you’re here like a dumbass instead of there.” Ben took a long drink. “That can’t possibly be your choice. Please tell me you’re smarter than that or I’ll regret not letting Evan shoot you.”
“Maybe it is my choice. It’s not weird to want some alone time.”
“In a bar.” Ben glanced over his shoulder. “With other people.”
His plans for tonight included a movie and another try at sex. He had to believe the off feeling he got last night and the fact it was only that one time was an aberration. Now that he’d had more sleep, he expected their mojo to be back in full force.
“See, I’m thinking you fucked up.” Ben delivered the assessment, then shoved the half-empty beer glass away from him. “Am I close?”
That made Connor’s defenses rise. “Maybe it was her.”
“It’s never them.”
“You don’t believe that.”
“Your life will be easier if you pretend to get that.” Ben dragged out his phone and typed something in. Then he turned the screen around to face Connor. “There’s a betting pool and I have next Wednesday as the day you blow it and come hunting for advice. Any chance you can keep it together until then?”
Connor refrained from taking a look. Seeing a spreadsheet or whatever was on there would only tick him off. “Why do I like you?”
“It’s a mystery.”
“Thank you for your faith in me, by the way. Blaming me if we had an issue, which we don’t.” He needed to make that clear. He’d decided on the word aberration. It’s the one that kept kicking around in his head.
“Being the law around here is a full-service job. You’d be amazed what nonsense I have to listen to just to have a beer.”
Yeah, he should have gone to the takeout pizza place. He didn’t really need company. “I wonder what Jenna, Sylvia, and Maddie are doing right now. Probably not this.”
“Admittedly, I’m not an expert on marriage.”
How did they jump to that? “I’m not married. Not looking to be either. You’ve got the wrong Rye brother.”
Ben switched out beer for water. He sounded and acted sober. He probably limited himself to half a beer even off duty. A sensible move. Far more sensible than a marriage talk.
“Maybe you’re not now, but this advice will be helpful despite the fact I only managed to make mine last for a short time.”
“You were married?” That was news. No one talked about that on Whitaker, which made Connor think the relationship was far in Ben’s past where residents were hesitant to go or at least ask about.
“Speaking of the Rye brothers. Why do you two have trouble imagining me married?”
“I wonder. You seem so stable and all.”
Ben waved that off. He also waved to the couple in the corner who were smiling at him. “I’m going to pretend you mean that.”
“Let’s.”
They didn’t say anything for a full minute. They both pretended to watch the television over the bar. Two talking heads argued about something football-related. Connor loved the sport but that’s not where his mind was right now.
Before he could come up with a safe topic that didn’t involve wedding bands, Ben started talking again. “But I do think the key is sharing.”
“For relationships?” Maybe he would prefer to talk about football. Football seemed safe and didn’t involve Maddie.
Ben frowned. “Isn’t that what we’re talking about?”
“I have no idea. But, for the record, we almost died together out at the prison. That’s sharing.”
The frown turned into a scoff. “That’s not what I mean, dumbass.”
This was really a great night. Connor needed to remember to pencil in another one of these very soon. “Enlighten me.”
“She wants to know you.”
She’d seen every inch of him. Literally. “We’ve been informally living together.”
“Uh-huh.”
At least he didn’t throw out the dumbass tag again. That might amount to progress. “Is that the sum total of your advice?”
Ben shifted in his chair to face Connor. “Okay. Ready?”
“Nope.” Because he wasn’t a total jackass.
Ben kept talking anyway. “What have you risked?” He held up a hand before Connor could answer. “And don’t talk about the shootout. I mean emotionally. With her.”
“Why do I have to risk anything?” People made relationships too hard. They sliced open their skin and let their hearts drop on the table. It was ridiculous to him. There was no need to go that deep or be that vulnerable.
“Because that’s how it works, Connor.” Ben rolled his eyes. “She shares . . . and she has, right? You think I don’t know that office story of hers is bullshit?”
Talking about that would be a violation of trust. Connor was not going to add that to his list of sins . . . and he was starting to believe maybe he did have such a list where she was concerned. He thought he’d been doing okay. Keeping his head up and not being a demanding jerk. “No comment.”
The Secret She Keeps Page 25