She wanted that, an intimate connection with a man, she really did. And not just any man. With Sten.
Maybe. If he ever started taking her seriously.
“I keep meaning to ask,” said Aislinn. “How long will you be in town?”
“Three more weeks and five days.” She wasn’t even at the halfway point in her stay.
Still, it felt like her hiatus was flying by much too fast. Even if she did hold firm on her birthday goal to leave acting behind, she still had contracts to honor. Unless her current project suffered more delays, she would be back on a soundstage by the first of May.
“Plenty of time for you and Sten to work things out.” Aislinn said it as though she honestly believed it.
And Madison couldn’t help but hope she was right.
* * *
For Sten, the day had crawled by. He spent hours in his workshop, getting a lot done and feeling zero satisfaction about it. Mostly, he was just trying to keep his mind from straying to thoughts of the movie star next door.
After dinner, he went to check on the flip house, where the list of what still needed doing went on and on. At least they were on schedule, a rarity in his experience.
Twenty minutes was all it took and he’d seen everything he needed to see. So, what now? Nothing at home to look forward to. If he had a beer with Karin, she’d be on his ass to work things out with Maddy. The alternative—sitting around by himself trying not to think about Maddy—didn’t thrill him either.
He knew a quiet bar in the center of town, but halfway there, he remembered the place was closed on Sundays. Instead, he went to the Sea Breeze on Beach Street and took a seat at the bar.
Ingrid Ostergard, the owner and Keely Bravo’s mom, served him a beer. Ingrid used to be a bona fide rock star. She was fun, with lots of attitude, her hair a different color every time he came in. Tonight, it was a deep magenta. They made small talk for a few minutes and then she moved down the bar to pour refills for a couple of guys in Rip City T-shirts.
Sten nursed his beer and did exactly what he would have been doing if he’d gone home—missed Madison. He wished he hadn’t been such a douche to her last night and he wondered if she’d had any trouble getting a ride to the Bravo house for the DNA dinner. Taking her where she needed to go and protecting her from any possible hassling was supposed to be his job. But instead, he’d pissed her off and left her to scare up a ride for herself.
He was currently trying to tell himself that staying away from her was for the best. The woman presented a lot more temptation than he was ready to deal with.
When Ingrid asked if he wanted another beer, he said no, thanked her and put his money on the bar. He didn’t realize he’d left his phone in the truck until it buzzed at him from the console as he got in behind the wheel.
Maddy?
He grabbed for it, almost dropping the damn thing in his eagerness to see what she had to say.
But it wasn’t Madison.
It was Ella Robson. His ex-girlfriend had sent him four texts while he was in the bar.
Guess who? How have you been?
Been thinking of you lately, missing those big hands of yours and all the amazing things they can do.
Joey still asks about you. I swear he’s grown a foot since you last saw him.
Sten? Come on. Only joking around. Can’t we just talk?
He felt nothing—well, nothing beyond annoyance, that she’d contacted him again, that she’d stooped so low as to drag poor Joey into it. The kid didn’t need his mother pulling that kind of stuff.
Did she think she could start something up with him again? Had she split with Darrin for the second time? Or was she texting him behind her husband’s back?
Whatever she was up to, he wanted it stopped.
He’d thought the world of her once, a single mom, newly divorced, trying to take care of her young son after her husband had left her. Joey was a great kid. Sten had wanted to help her, wanted to make things better for her and her boy.
He’d been the one to hire her as the office manager at the Boatworks. Joey was four then.
It was pretty much what Karin had said the other night. Sten had fallen for both the mom and the kid—and that had surprised the hell out of everyone who knew him.
After all, he was the guy who loved his freedom. When he wanted family around him, he had a sister, the kids and his dad—and Bud, too, before they lost him. He’d liked things with women to be simple and uncomplicated. But when it came to Ella and Joey, right away he was thinking forever with a ready-made family.
Ella had refused to go out with him at first. She’d said it was a bad idea to date the boss. He’d thought that showed so much integrity.
Soon enough, though, she was saying yes. The morning after their first night together, Sten asked her to move in with him.
But she wouldn’t come live with him—not out in the open for the world to see, anyway. When Darrin, who lived in Seattle, had custody of Joey, though? That was a different story. She would play house with Sten while her son was away.
He’d asked her to marry him over and over, been such a sucker for her brave single-mom act. She’d always said no, always claimed that she was wild for him, but she wasn’t “ready” for marriage again yet. That she just didn’t think getting married again would be good for Joey.
Then, out of nowhere—at least, from Sten’s point of view—Ella and Darrin had reconciled. Ella broke the news to Sten right there in his private office at Larson Boatworks.
She marched in, shut the door and came to stand at his desk. Head high and a noble expression on her pretty face, she’d quietly informed him that she appreciated what a good guy he was, not to mention how great they were together in bed.
But sex wasn’t everything. She was quitting the Boatworks and she and Sten were through. Darrin wanted to get back together and they were going to remarry. Ella and Joey would join Darrin in Seattle. It was the best thing for Joey, after all. She collected her last paycheck, put her stuff in a box and walked out. Sten hadn’t seen her since.
It had taken him a while to accept the depressing fact that he’d been little more than Ella Robson’s dependable booty call for three years. Her goal had always been to get back with her husband.
Now she had what she’d been after—and she was screwing it up?
I’m done, he thought.
And the best part? It was absolutely true. He’d been telling himself for months that he was over Ella.
Now he knew it for a certainty.
He considered just blowing off her texts.
But ghosting was for wimps.
He texted back: Leave it alone, Ella. You and I are done. Don’t contact me again. And then he blocked her number—after which he still felt like he had ants crawling under his skin.
His irritation really had nothing to do with Ella Robson.
He was pissed off because it wasn’t Maddy who’d sent him four texts in a row.
What was this thing he had for unavailable women, anyway? First a single mom determined to get back with the husband who’d walked out on her.
Now a movie star—and yeah, okay, Maddy claimed she was leaving her big-time career behind. Sten actually believed that she believed she would do it.
He just didn’t think it would happen. She’d dedicated her life to becoming the best of the best at what she did. It made no sense for her to walk away from all that at the top of her game.
In the end, she would return to LA and get on with her real life. He could just picture her, looking back with wistful fondness on her time with him at Sweetheart Cove.
So yeah, Sten had no illusions about how things would shake out with Maddy in the end. After she’d sent him away last night, he’d been telling himself that avoiding her from here on out was the best course.
And it might have been.
Except he was already in too deep.
* * *
The cottage seemed so quiet and empty when Madison got home.
She dropped her bag on the narrow table by the front door and went on through to the great room. She was just about to turn on a light when she saw the tall, broad-shouldered figure standing out on the deck.
Sten. He was leaning on the railing, staring off toward the beach and the restless ocean beyond.
Her heart lifted and her skin felt all prickly, her blood suddenly hot as it raced through her veins. She left the light off and went straight to the slider, where she hesitated, her hand on the latch, in delicious indecision.
Because she was still mad at him and she wasn’t sure she even wanted to talk to him—except, well, she did. So much. She wanted to feel his hard arms around her, his soft lips on hers. She wanted him to admit that he’d been so wrong, that they had something special and he was actually willing to give them a chance.
Either he’d heard Jax’s truck out in front or he’d somehow sensed her presence in the dark house behind him. Straightening and turning, he locked eyes with her through the glass.
A long, lovely shiver went through her, a shiver that felt like surrender. She pushed the slider wide.
It was all the encouragement he needed. He came for her, blue eyes burning, long legs eating up the distance in quick, determined strides.
“Maddy.” He stopped a foot away from her. “I’m sorry. I was jerk.”
She willed him closer.
And he took that last step. He cradled her face in those big, rough hands and lowered his beautiful mouth to hers.
She sighed at the wonder of it—at all of it. At his coming to find her, at the way he’d admitted right off that he’d behaved badly.
And even more than his apology, she melted at the way he made her feel, at the warmth of his breath across her skin, the hungry look in his eyes as his palms coasted out over her shoulders and down her arms. He cupped his hands around the back of hers and eased his fingers in, lacing them together with hers.
And he kissed her for a long time, right there in the open doorway, kissed her gently—and yet not. Kissed her with a kind of leashed forcefulness that had her wishing he might never stop.
As his mouth seduced her, his hands were on the move again, touching her, stroking her, causing a riot of lovely sensations as his fingers skimmed her shoulders, glided along her neck and eased up into her hair.
He gathered the mass of it into a fist, pulling her head back to kiss her more deeply.
She moaned. With a low growl in response, he loosened his grip and combed through the strands in long, soothing strokes.
“All day, all I’ve wanted is to be with you,” he whispered. “I was pretty sure I’d blown it for good this time.”
“Uh-uh. No way. I’m so glad you’re here.”
“I kept telling myself it was the best thing, anyway, to leave you alone.”
“No. Wrong. That would be the worst thing.”
He kissed the tip of her nose and the space between her eyebrows. “How did it go at Daniel’s?”
“It was great. Aislinn and Jax asked where you were. I said we weren’t speaking. They seemed to think we would work it out.”
“Were they right?”
“I’m still back there with how you thought leaving me alone was the best way to go.”
“Yeah, well. I’m here, aren’t I?”
She faked a sulky face. “And I probably shouldn’t be so glad about that.”
“Maddy.” He bent closer. His warm breath ghosted across her skin. “Won’t you please forgive me for being a doucheberry?”
She chuckled against his beautiful mouth. “Doucheberry. That’s pretty bad—and of course I forgive you. The truth is, when you’re kissing me, I could forgive you just about anything.”
“I just want you closer.” He hauled her even tighter against him. The kiss got deeper and wetter.
What he was doing to her? She’d never known anything like what she felt with him. His kiss stole the breath right out of her lungs.
“I just want this time with you,” he whispered, the words rough and ragged against her parted lips. “Every minute we can steal.”
Steal? They weren’t stealing anything. She wanted him and he wanted her and it was all wide-open, aboveboard, wasn’t it?
Then again, who cared what word he used?
What mattered was that he was here and she was here and this perfect moment would never come again.
“It’s all right.” She meant it, she did. He’d been a jerk, yeah. But she’d pushed things too fast. And she wanted what he wanted, anyway—to be with him, right now, however it worked out when her time in Oregon was through.
At some point in life, a woman had to let go, take what was offered, give up the goals and the planning and just let the good things happen for once.
He framed her face again. “Can I come in, then?”
She grinned. “But you’re already in.”
He glanced left and right. “Currently, we are standing on the threshold.”
“Hmm.”
He frowned down at her. “I’m not sure I like the way you’re looking at me. Like you can’t decide whether to let me stay or make me go.”
“Hmm,” she said again, but then she took both his hands and stepped back, pulling him with her as she cleared the doorway.
“Come here.” He kissed her some more, a hungry, exciting kiss. He smelled like cedar and the cool night wind off the ocean. She couldn’t get enough of just breathing him in.
“Do not leave this spot.” He stopped kissing her, but only to shut and lock the slider. The moment he faced her again, she made her move, whipping off her light sweater, dropping it to the floor, kicking off her shoes and unzipping her jeans.
“I really like where this is going.” His eyes looked so dark right then, full of dangerous promises. Sparking heat as he went, he traced a slow, sweet caress down the middle of her body, into the valley between her breasts, over the little bow at the center of her bra—and lower, to the top of her red panties revealed between the open zipper teeth. “But, Maddy. Are you sure?”
She nodded, her breath coming a little frantic, her skin on fire. “I even went to the drugstore and bought condoms, which is pretty crazy given that I was still angry with you when I did it. I took a cab.” She said it with pride.
His fingers skated upward again. He cradled her left breast, easing his thumb under the lace at the top of the cup, guiding it down so her breast, with its puckered, dusky nipple, was bare. A rush of arousal flooded through her and her knees went all wobbly. He did the same thing to the other breast.
She felt pliant, easy—weak, in the most wonderful, dizzy sort of way. “Nobody noticed me, not the cabdriver, not anyone in the drugstore.”
“Taking the big chances now, are you?” He bent close and took her nipple in his mouth.
“Ungh.” She let her head fall back. He drew on the tight bead of flesh and then licked her in a circle, bringing another needful sound rising from her throat.
“Wrap your legs around me.” Eagerly, she obeyed, jumping up into his arms. He helped, boosting her so she could hook her ankles at the small of his back. He kissed her some more. “The condoms?” he asked against her mouth.
“My bag. Front hall,” she managed, as she clutched his wide shoulders and kissed him as fervently as he was kissing her.
He took her to the front door. She reached out a hand and grabbed the big tote, sliding the handles into the crook of her elbow.
And then they were moving again, the bag bouncing against his thigh as he carried her, still kissing her, down the short hall to the main bedroom and straight to the bed. Gently, he lowered her so she was sitting on the mattress. Only then did he break the kiss.
&nb
sp; Rising to his full height, he turned on the lamp as she pushed down her jeans and dropped them on the far side of the bed. He didn’t move, just stood there by the lamp, watching her, in only her bra and panties now.
She felt more naked than naked. The panties were no more than a strip of lace. And the bra? It wasn’t doing much, with the cups pulled down so he could see both her breasts—more than just see them, really. The bra seemed to hold them up for display.
Don’t squirm, she commanded herself. You’re doing this. Own it.
She sat as still as she could, breathing only a little bit frantically, her tote still hooked in the crook of her elbow.
Oh, the look on his face...
It was everything. Tender and hopeful and scared. Needful. Cautious, too. His way too kissable mouth curved in a hint of a smile.
The condoms, she reminded herself and got busy hauling her wig and her hat out of the bag, tossing them toward the bedside chair, finally coming up with the box of Trojan Magnums she’d bought. “I really hope I got the right ones. They have about a thousand different kinds. It’s very confusing for a first-time condom buyer.”
“Those will do fine,” he said. She handed him the box. He removed a couple of condoms, set them on the night table and put the box beside them.
“Hold on,” she said, abruptly enough that he glanced up at her in surprise.
“What?”
“I bought lube, too. It’s in here somewhere.” She had to stick her head in the tote to find it, but she wrapped her fingers around it at last. “Ta-da.” She whipped out the tube.
He played along. “Yay.” They stared at each other and then both of them smiled.
“Okay, then.” She put the tube near the two pouches and dropped the tote over the edge of the bed. It landed with a plop on top of her jeans.
There was a moment, kind of awkward but also knowing and true. They stared at each other. This really was happening. They really were doing this.
Her first time.
It would be with Sten and that made her glad.
Switched At Birth Page 11