by Cameron Dane
“Goddamnit.” Every cell in Wyn’s body lit up like the New York skyline, and he fought every instinct telling him to get into his car right now and race to the garage. “Why haven’t I heard about this?”
“Ms. Morgan didn’t want to press any charges, and Robbie begged me not to. He explained that Felicity had been going through a real rough time and that she’d just lost a sister to an abusive boyfriend and that she wasn’t thinking straight. He promised he was working on getting her some help, and Ms. Morgan had empathy and said she didn’t truly feel threatened, so I had to let it go.”
“Son of a bitch.” Wyn slammed his fist on his desk, letting the metal take the brunt of his impotent rage.
Jefferson’s features fell, exposing the hints of youth still in the young officer. “Should I have insisted on charges being filed?”
“No.” Wyn spit the truth out, although just knowing and accepting it was like heartburn flaring in his chest. “You did what you could. I know Maddie Morgan, and if she didn’t want anything to happen, there wouldn’t have been anything you could have done to get her to cooperate.”
“That’s kind of how I read the scene too. And whether I should or not, I felt bad for Robbie. And for Felicity too. She was very emotional, and he seemed so concerned for her, and he treated her so gently that I didn’t buy that he was cheating on her with anyone. I think he really did just want to get her some help.” Some of the color coming back to his face, Jefferson shrugged. “I gave him a few numbers, and he said he would use them. I hadn’t heard anything since the incident, but then I saw the Facebook page open on your computer, and it made me wonder if something bad had happened.”
“I don’t have anything new to report about that episode,” Wyn gave as an answer. Maddie would not want her business shared around town. And beyond that, the less people who knew Wyn was searching for a squatter or intruder, the better his chance for success. “Thanks for sharing this information with me. You never know when it might be useful.”
“Glad I could help.” Eager to prove himself—Wyn had been this kid less than a decade ago, so he knew how to read the straightened shoulders and light in his eyes—Jefferson jerked to his feet and stuck out his hand. “Let me know if you need anything else.”
Hiding his amusement, Wyn replied, “Will do,” and shook the newbie’s hand.
Once alone with his thoughts, Wyn swung back to face his computer, and the brief snippet of humor slid out of him to the floor. Maddie was threatened? Gnashing his teeth, Wyn drummed his fingers in a hard rhythm against his desk. And she didn’t tell me? There would be a reckoning about that between them very soon.
But first, he had some research to do on Robbie and Felicity.
* * * *
Maddie slid into one of the chairs at the table in the break room at the garage, lunch in hand that in truth was closer to an early dinner. Maddie had only hired one employee since Mr. Corsini had left on his RV tour—Jayden—and per his age he could only work part time. Consequently the full-time staff of five mechanics, herself included, had become extremely busy.
Across from her, Ernie unfolded wax paper from around a tuna sandwich. He mumbled, “Busy day,” before taking a huge bite.
“One of the busiest,” Maddie agreed. She peeled the lid off of her pudding cup and tore open her peanut butter crackers, her stomach grumbling. Uncertainty and performance anxiety nagged at her, though. She looked up at Ernie, noting his age, and the fact that he’d just yawned at four o’clock in the afternoon. Guilt stabbed into her system. “I’ll hire someone if you and the guys want me to.” Just as fast, she explained, “I haven’t up till now because, even though we’re swamped, I’d just as soon pay overtime when we need it and let everyone get some extra cash in their pockets.”
Wiping his mouth with a napkin, Ernie shifted in his chair, stretched out his legs, and pondered the light fixture above for a good long minute. After a spell, he turned his head and replied, “I won’t speak officially for everyone, and this may not be the answer in a year, but right now I think we have a good system and rhythm going, and I say we leave things as they are and see how we cope.”
Maddie expelled her held breath and slumped back in her seat. “Good. That was my thought too.”
“That’s why you’re a good boss.” Ernie grinned and winked at her in a way that pricked her heart. “Not perfect yet, but you’re getting darn close.”
Maddie smiled back just as big at the wonderful old guy. “Thanks!”
After that, Ernie tucked back into his sandwich and Maddie munched on her crackers, her mind straying to the one part of last night in the garden she could think about without chastising herself for being a stupid, romantic fool who couldn’t keep a clear mind about a certain man. Jackass. Since last night, Maddie wasn’t sure if she was cursing Wyn or herself.
Ernie, quietly enjoying his lunch, presented a great source of information. Before Maddie could second-guess her potential rudeness, she blurted, “Can I ask you something not related to work at all?”
Ernie barely raised one thick, bushy eyebrow. “Don’t see why not.”
“You’ve been in Redemption forever, right?”
“Born and raised.”
“Okay. All right.” Her blood pumping now, Maddie dived into the ocean of thoughts that had flooded her brain for months but that she’d never opened the dam to release. “For the longest time I thought Mr. Corsini had built his house for his wife. I don’t know why I thought that, but I did.”
“Maybe because he loved her so much,” Ernie filled in.
Maddie nodded, and her heart tugged even though she’d never met the late Mrs. Corsini. “Mr. Corsini always had his desk covered with pictures of her, so that might be it. But then when I bought the house from him I realized it was a lot older than his time in Redemption. So my question is: Do you know anything about the house? Specifically about the previous owners?”
“Let me think on it for a second.” Ernie frowned and tipped his head back again, his thick snowy brows scrunched, a contrast against his rich, umber skin. “I’m pretty sure there were two owners before Stavros bought it. One I know of for sure. Stavros bought the place because Lena fell in love with it the moment she laid her eyes on it.” Per his longevity with the business, Ernie had long referred to Mr. and Mrs. Corsini by their given names. “So Stavros bought the house and the land and built the garage close by. He wanted to be close to her so he could always come home for lunch and dinner, especially in those early days when he worked like a dog.” Looking to Maddie, knowledge and ease lit Ernie’s hazel eyes. “They’d hoped to have a ton of kids but were only blessed with Nico.”
Maddie had met her boss’s son in person only once. Nico, a nice guy, a handsome dark-haired God of a man. He’d rarely come to the garage though, even when in from New York to visit his father.
Chin in her hand, Maddie looked at Ernie but could still envision her old boss working in this place, leaving his mark on every inch of the building and business. “Mr. Corsini never said, but I think he was sad when Nico didn’t want to become a part of the business.”
“He was proud that Nico’s intellect allowed him such a prestigious career path,” Ernie shared. “Is proud still. But I agree, at the same time Stavros was sad he didn’t have blood to carry on the legacy he’d created. I think that’s part of the reason he took to you. He loved your interest in cars and the business, and once he began to see you as family things changed for him. He started grooming you without you even realizing it, maybe without him realizing either. When you took to everything so well, he felt okay leaving because the garage is still moving forward with someone who will take care of it for a long time.” Ernie then gave her a pointed, grandfatherly look. “And maybe who will have kids who would want to join her here one day too.”
Unbidden, thoughts of Wyn and last night popped front and center in Maddie’s brain, and heat bloomed on her skin. “I don’t know about that.”
Reaching across th
e table, Ernie squeezed her hand. “You have plenty of time.”
The hairs on Maddie’s neck rose, and she squirmed under Ernie’s innocent scrutiny. Don’t even go down that Wyn road right now, girl.
Winding her thoughts backward, to what she’d originally wanted to talk to Ernie about, Maddie bluntly asked, “Do you know if the previous owners of the house had anyone die in it?”
Ernie’s brows went up. “Other than Stavros’s wife? I don’t think so. The owners before Stavros and Lena, definitely not. One of my cousins worked for them, so I know that history for sure. I’m not one hundred percent certain about the original owners who built the place. I could ask my wife’s mother. She’s still around and her mind is like a steel trap.”
“If you don’t mind, that would be great.” The other information Ernie had shared took a second to register, but when it did, her heart sank. “Mrs. Corsini died in the house?” Photos she’d glanced at in passing a thousand times in this very garage, not to mention still in her home, filled her, and she started to wonder if she’d ever truly gotten a clear image of the fleeting sightings of the woman in her garden. “I never knew that.”
“Yes. Lena was a wonderful woman.” Ernie’s voice gentled, and a smile returned, almost bringing a soft glow to the surface of his mahogany skin. “Very kind. Always treated me like a man of means equal to her husband. Looked me in the eyes. Shook my hand back during a time when it might shock you to know some folks still wouldn’t. Lena never fully recovered from that terrible stroke, and then a clot eventually got her, right in the middle of the day, right in her kitchen.” He snapped his fingers. “Just like that.”
No matter her anger at Wyn, Maddie couldn’t help but put herself in Mr. Corsini’s position. To lose Wyn so suddenly, to be the one to find him… Maddie went cold, and her heart bled straight out onto the concrete floor.
Maddie rubbed her arms, chasing away goose bumps, even though the garage was a bit stuffy and warm. “Mr. Corsini must have been terribly heartbroken.”
“Yes. And Nico was almost a teenager, showing interests that weren’t in Stavros’s wheelhouse, and they butted heads some. After Nico left to go to school, it was hard for Stavros.” Ernie’s gaze clouded, looked far away then, perhaps drifted back to a time before Maddie had known this place even existed. “That’s when the garage became his life, his family, whereas before that it was the means to support his family and make them happy.”
“You two were close.” This time, Maddie squeezed his hand. “More than I realized.”
Ernie nodded. “Stavros treated me well. He offered me respect and a wage I could live on at a time when a lot of employers still addressed me as ‘boy’. I’ve had my share of those who looked down on me to know how rare a boss and man Stavros is.”
Maddie nodded too, empathizing with Ernie, although for herself her affection had a basis in Mr. Corsini’s gender blindness rather than color. “I know Mr. Corsini is so happy now,” she mused, “so I don’t begrudge him a minute of this second lease on life he’s getting with his new wife, but I do miss him.” A fizzy twist coiled up in Maddie’s belly, and she felt a little bit sick. “And I worry I can’t live up to his legacy.”
“You don’t need to worry about that, sweetheart. You’re doing just fine. Okay—” Ernie gathered the remnants of his lunch, “—I’ll be getting back to work. That new boss,” he winked at her as he threw away his trash, “she’s a real hard ass, you know.”
Maddie laughed and shouted, “Damn right she is,” but the moment she was alone, Mr. Corsini’s late wife took front and center in Maddie’s thoughts. Could she be my ghost? Maddie would have to look closely at a picture of the woman, and then she’d have to do her level best to focus on the figure in white the next time she saw her. Then, if correct, she would have some concrete information to give to Wyn and maybe he would believe her.
Wyn. Maddie squeezed her eyes closed and tried to shut him out, but flashes from last night invaded her mind, giving her no escape. The feel of his hard, hot body still lived in her fingertips, tempting her with fantasies of touching his warm, firm skin again. And the way he’d touched her…Maddie swallowed a moan and clenched her thighs as her pussy awakened for him right in the break room. Nobody had ever touched Maddie in so intimate and sexual a manner before. She’d gone on dates during those years she and Wyn had become friends, and while she’d had fun with some of the guys, in her heart she’d known she could never love them, and so she’d never gone farther than kissing and the lightest of petting.
Pretty much everything she’d done with Wyn in the garden had been a first for her; not only what he’d done to her, but the way she’d let go of herself and responded so completely to him. She’d wanted to lean into him and show him who she’d secretly been all these years under the sarcasm and biting comments. Then for him to treat what they’d done together so flippantly…
No. Don’t even think about him. Control what you can, and worry about nothing else.
From now on, Maddie would remind herself that they were living in her home, not his. She would reclaim it, and Wyn would have to worry about dealing with her.
Starting tonight.
* * * *
Remote in hand, Wyn threw himself down on the couch and flicked on the TV. The local news filled the screen. Not in the mood to be angered or depressed, Wyn started flipping through the channels, looking for something to grab his interest until he could motivate himself to make something for dinner. If tonight was anything like the previous two evenings in Maddie’s home, he would be dining alone.
After going through hundreds of channels—Maddie seemed to have every channel invented—Wyn pulled up the DVR listings to see what she had stored to watch. Holy Mother. Dozens of shows were recorded, many with multiple episodes, as well as some movies and even a few talk shows. Everything from The Walking Dead to Sherlock, Scandal, and Black-ish, to True Blood and Supernatural and Love It or List It.
The films on tap ranged from low budget found-footage horror to classic John Hughes movies from the eighties to foreign melodramas. Scanning deeper into the list, Wyn smiled as the animated film Ice Age showed up, with a Save icon next to it. That movie had shown up at a dollar theater in town years ago, and when Wyn had admitted he’d never seen it but kind of wanted to, Maddie had dragged him into the place, where they’d had the whole damned theater to themselves to watch it. Thinking back on that afternoon twisted inside Wyn, bittersweet, recalling how good they were together before everything changed to crushingly bad.
Maddie had a way of creating one-of-a-kind, memorable days out of nothing anybody looking in from the outside would think was very interesting or special. She’d used seeing Ice Age as a jumping off point to create an entire weekend of snowy fun…
* * * *
…Deep into one of Maine’s snowmobile trails, Wyn hooted to the sky as he leaned his weight all the way to the side of his snow machine, pulled off the throttle, and executed a sharp bend around a cluster of trees. Just a few feet away, Maddie, on her own sled, shouted as she executed the turn to perfection too, and then picked up speed as the trail straightened over a long stretch of snow-covered land.
Bright, nearly blinding sunlight beamed down onto the blanket of pure white snow and the crisp, frigid air stung the lower half of Wyn’s face not covered by goggles.
Maddie sped up alongside him, shouted, “You’re going down, sucker!” and pressed full-tilt on her throttle, shooting past him into the open field of snow.
His competitive juices igniting into a full inferno, Wyn roared, “Never!” and gunned the gas on his snowmobile too. He stood up on the sled to get even better control over the vehicle as it moved on the loosely packed snow and shot past Maddie in mere seconds.
For the entire span of the open space, Wyn and Maddie traded the lead position, each shouting taunts and jabs at the other along the way. Wyn couldn’t do it with a straight face though; he laughed the whole way, and Maddie smiled as big as he’d ever seen in
between each insult too.
When they reached the other side of the clearing—their predetermined spot to stop for a snack—Wyn squeezed the brake handle and brought the sled to a sliding stop. Before the motor had a chance to completely die down, he dived off the machine onto the white-covered ground and scooped up a mound of snow, prepared to take this competition to another level.
Sprawled on his side, Wyn packed the fluffy white stuff into a ball, but as he aimed, Maddie yanked off her goggles and threw her hands into the air. “Hey, hey now. We already have a snowball fight in our past.” A light in her eyes took Wyn straight back to that night they’d so inappropriately kissed, and his gut clenched with the still-forbidden need. “Let’s try to be original.”
Arm falling to his side, the ball plopping into the snow, Wyn rolled onto his back and muttered, “Fair enough.”
His muscles going lax, Wyn looked up, studying the twinkle of sunlight through the tall, barren branches of trees. He exhaled, taking a moment to soak in the beautiful day, when at the exact same moment Maddie launched off her snowmobile and pushed a pile of snow in his direction, using the momentum of her body, and buried him to the waist in a wash of white.
Wyn screeched in an octave he’d never used in his life. Before he could cry foul, Maddie, on her knees, swooped more snow in the wingspan of her arms and dumped it on his face and chest, covering him from head to toe in snow.
Giggling in somehow the throatiest, sexiest damned way, Maddie wiped snow from his eyes. With a blink Wyn could see her leaning over him, wearing a triumphant smile. “I mocked your snowball attempt, but I never said I wouldn’t bury you in snow another way.”
“Fuck.” Glaring, but warmed in his core, Wyn spit snow out of his mouth. “I walked right into that.”
Maddie arched an eyebrow comically high. “Yeah you did.”
With that said, she pulled him upright to sit, bit off her gloves, and began brushing off the snow she’d dumped on him. She flitted her fingers—although maybe flitted wasn’t the right word for someone with such vitality—over his arms and chest, pushing off clumps of white powder from his clothes. She swept her hand across his stomach and then moved dangerously lower. Fuck. With her hand an inch from his lap, Wyn sucked in a breath—if she touched anywhere close to his cock Wyn would be hard in a second, he knew it—and Maddie shot her gaze up to his and whipped her hand away.