I sighed in relief and went to retrieve my Yellow Pages. It was so nice to have Dad back in control. To have the responsibility and stress lifted from my shoulders. I should have gone to him in the first place.
I handed him the phone book and he put a hand on my shoulder, pulling me into a warm hug. This time I didn’t resist and buried my face in his chest. “I’m so sorry you felt you had to deal with this by yourself, Maddy,” he said. “I wish you had come to me in the first place.” He squeezed me tighter. “I love you. And nothing can change that. Not Cindi. Not a new baby. You and Lulu are still my girls and I love you both to death.”
I leaned closer into the hug, feeling warm and safe for the first time in what seemed like forever.
Daddy was back. Now everything would be okay. I hoped.
Chapter Fourteen
FROM: “David Johns”
TO: “Madeline Madison”
SUBJECT: Reardon Oil
Hi Baby Doll,
Guess what? Brock and I are getting married! Isn’t that sooo wonderful? Last night, he decided to leap out of that proverbial closet in a single bound—like Superman, only in Armani instead of that tacky spandex outfit! His dad, Senator Gorman, is absolutely pissed, of course, which makes the whole process even more delicious. Yes, I know, I’ve only known him a couple of weeks, but Maddy darling, when it’s love, it’s love!!!!
Oh, I asked Brock about that Reardon Oil company and while he said he never heard of such a business, he immediately recognized the guy in your photo. Evidently the fatso’s name is Ronald “Rocky” Rodriguez and he’s president of the Association for California Car Dealers. He and Brock’s dad evidently go way back. UCSD frat buddies or some shit like that. Rocky owns Pacific Coast Cars in San Diego. You remember those cheesy ads you always see on News 9, don’t you? “If I can’t beat their price I’ll drown myself in the Pacific!” That’s him. I totally didn’t recognize him without that goofy llama he always has with him on the TV ads. J
Anyway, on to more important topics. I found the most fabulous Vera Wang and put down a deposit. I’m going to be a June bride—isn’t that so wonderfully clichéd? Oh, and if you can make it up to San Fran, I’d love for you to be a bridesmaid.
Love and Kisses, David
I was still pretty exhausted. Yesterday my father and I spent the whole day trying to find a teen rehab facility that would take Lulu. It seemed every single place was booked solid. (Which, I thought, didn’t bode well for the future of San Diego’s youth.) In the late afternoon, we finally found a small private hospital with an extra bed. It took some major convincing, dragging her against her will, but we finally got her checked in.
At least work was going well. Getting an e-mail from David revealing the identity of the guy in the Reardon Oil photo was a major coup. (Though I wasn’t convinced he and Brock should get married so soon … ) Now it made perfect sense why the car with dealer plates had been there to pick up the drugs. Evidently Mr. Rocky Rodriguez had a little side business going on. Now I just needed to prove it.
“You’re back!”
I looked up to see Jamie enter my cubicle, an overjoyed expression on his way too handsome face. All work matters fled my mind and my heart panged its appreciation of seeing him again. One day off and I’d missed him terribly.
Things had changed between us since our near death escape. It was like we had this deep connection now. Something beyond sex. Beyond words. Beyond a boyfriend/girlfriend thing. Unsaid and unrefined, but definitely there.
“Hi, Jamie,” I said with a small smile. Did he feel it, too? The tension in the cubicle? He sat down in David’s seat.
“How are you doing?” he asked, studying me with those heartbreaking eyes of his. “When you weren’t here yesterday, I worried that …”
“I’m fine,” I reassured him. “I just had to deal with a family thing.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked, his expression illuminating his concern. I suddenly realized that I did want to talk about it. I wanted to share my grief and worry with him. Let go of the heavy burden I’d been carrying around.
I looked around. News 9 Cubicle Land, however, was not the best place to off-load.
He caught my glance. “Let’s go to Starbucks,” he said.
I nodded, relieved. It was as if he could read my mind.
A few minutes later we sat down in the comfortable purple velvet chairs to sip our coffees and I told him the whole sordid Lulu tale. He listened with rapt attention and, when I’d finished, he placed a hand on my knee and squeezed. I knew it was meant to be a comforting gesture, but it sparked something else inside. Something
I was trying very hard to ignore.
“I’m so sorry you’ve had to go through all that,” he said, removing his hand. “You’ve had quite a week, huh?”
I nodded, feeling my throat constrict. I willed myself not to cry.
“And what I did to you probably didn’t help much,” he said with a sigh, staring down at his coffee. “I feel terrible.”
I shook my head. I didn’t share my story with him to gain his pity. “Listen, Jamie. There’s no need to apologize,” I insisted. “You said what needed to be said. You gave me my much needed reality check. You have a fiancée. Period. End of story. It’s better that you laid it on the line before …” I trailed off. I’d begun to stupidly say before I fell too deeply in love with him. But I couldn’t say that. I’d sound like a total loser.
“What I said in Calla Verda—in that motel room—I said out of fear,” Jamie said slowly. “You see, I thought I had my life all figured out. Then you came along and turned me completely upside down. What I had with you—what we shared—started becoming more important to me than my relationship with my fiancée. I started looking forward to talking to you more than her. And that scared the hell out of me, to tell you the honest truth.” He raked a hand through his hair. “I’ve always considered myself a decent guy. If I make a commitment, I follow through. And yet, suddenly I was having all these doubts. Like, what if Jen and I really had grown apart and I had been in denial all this time? Would marrying her make everything okay? Would we reconnect and fall in love all over again? Or would it be a huge, huge mistake that was going to make me miserable for years to come?”
I stared at him, my head spinning, not knowing what to say. Was he doing another reversal on me?
“None of this has anything to do with you, exactly,” he continued. “Only that I started really caring about you and thinking about you all the time and wanting to be with you. But at the same time, I realized how completely unfair I was being to you—forcing you into the role of the other woman because I couldn’t resist having you in my life. I’m not a jerk, Maddy. I’m really not. And so I realized I had to do something.”
He paused for breath and I wondered if I should say something. But he didn’t look finished, so I remained silent, contemplating what he’d just revealed. It made sense, really, and explained a lot of his mixed messages. But the question was, what would it all mean for us in the end?
He continued. “So I did the cowardly thing—I pushed you away. Tried to make you hate me. I guess I figured in the end that would make it easier for both of us. You’d think I was a jerk who didn’t deserve your love and I’d never be able to go back to you, even if I was tempted. I’d marry Jen like I’d committed to and things would slowly get better between us as memories of you faded away.”
He cleared his throat. “But at the same time, I couldn’t bear the idea of you hating me. And I don’t want to hurt or disappoint you, either. Especially since I have real feelings for you. Strong ones. And I don’t know what the hell I’m supposed to do about that.”
I held my breath, nervous butterflies flapping through my stomach as I tried to figure out what the hell he was trying to say.
“I went up to LA and met with Jen yesterday evening,” he blurted out at last, staring into his coffee cup, not ready to look me
in the eyes quite yet. “And I told her I couldn’t marry her.”
I stared at him, unable to believe my ears. He’d called off the wedding? He was no longer engaged? He was a free man?
“I told her that I felt we’d been drifting apart for a long time. I no longer felt a hundred percent into the relationship and I didn’t think it was right to go through with it when I was having so many doubts. It wasn’t fair to me and it wasn’t fair to her either.”
I nodded slowly. “How’d she take it?”
“Really well, actually,” Jamie admitted. “She told me she wasn’t shocked I felt this way and that she’d felt the growing distance between us as well. In fact, I think in a lot of ways she was relieved, to tell you the truth. This way she gets to stay in LA and not give up her career and her friends. Which I totally understand and support, you know? She told me she loved me, but realizes that we are two very different people, destined to live two very different lives.” He stared down at his hands. “I can’t say it wasn’t a little weird to have her be so accepting about it, but in the end, I know it’s best.”
“Did … did you tell her about me?” I asked.
“Yes. It was probably the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do, but I figured it was better to be honest,” he said. “She was bound to find out sooner or later anyway, and I’d rather she hear it from me. She told me she knew I had a crush on you from that first night at dinner. Something about the way I looked at you.” He shrugged. “As usual, you women are a lot more perceptive than us dumb men.”
“I don’t know what to say,” I said truthfully. “It’s a lot to take in.”
“I know. And I’m sorry. Don’t think this puts any pressure on you,” Jamie added. “In the end, this is something I had to do for myself and had nothing to do with my feelings for you. Well, in a way it did, but it goes much deeper than that. So you shouldn’t feel guilty or anything. You were just a catalyst for something I should have done a long time ago.”
Okay, I was confused. Was he interested in dating me now that he was free? Or did he need time on his own for a while to figure things out? “I understand,” I replied at last, even though of course I didn’t.
He chuckled. “Do you? I’m glad to hear that. I’m not sure I understand it all myself.” He rose from his Starbucks chair. “Do you mind if we swing by my apartment on the way back?” he asked abruptly, his voice sounding almost nervous. “Jen had been dog-sitting for me in LA. Once we had the wedding conversation she sent the pooch back with me. I want to make sure he’s adjusting to his new surroundings.”
I hesitated. Go to his house and check on his dog? Was this some kind of lame pretense to hook up? And would I mind if it was? After all, he was suddenly a free man. And he’d definitely admitted he had strong feelings for me. Maybe it was time to see where this potential relationship could go—for the first time without feeling guilty about it all.
Then again, what if he suddenly pulled another reversal on me? Loved me and left me? I had no desire, after all, to play rebound girl. It could only lead to more hurt and I’d already had more than enough of that to last a lifetime.
I glanced up at him and he smiled shyly at me, his gaze hesitant but hopeful, and it made my heart melt as I saw the love in his eyes. Whether he would admit it or not, he had broken up with the girl he was supposed to marry and a lot of it had to do with me. He’d taken the first step toward a new life path and he clearly wanted me along for the ride.
Really, how could I say no?
“Oh, a dog?” I forced myself to coo. “I’d love to see him.”
*
We arrived at Jamie’s apartment a few minutes later. It was a cute courtyard building with a pool in the center, à la Melrose Place. He unlocked the door and we stepped inside. He hadn’t been lying about the dog. A bundle of brown fur attacked me with excited yelps the second we walked through the door.
“This is Bowser,” he said, kneeling down to play wrestle with the pooch. “Bowser, this is Maddy.”
“Hi, Bowser,” I greeted, crouching down to pet the dog. He responded by licking my face with his sloppy pink tongue. He was some kind of terrier mix and extremely cute.
Jamie rose. “So do you, uh, want a tour?”
I took a deep breath, reminding myself this was no mere dog visit. The sexual tension in the room was so thick you could cut it with a knife. I sucked in a breath. “Sure,” I said, squaring my shoulders. Too late to back out now. Wait—did I put on good underwear this morning? I so had not planned this. I tried to nonchalantly lower the hem of my skirt to catch a glimpse.
“This is the—are you okay?” Jamie asked, catching my skirt-lowering maneuver. My face flamed in embarrassment.
“Oh, yes. Fine, thank you.” I stammered. I quickly pulled my skirt back up. “Just, uh …” Checking to make sure my panties were appropriate for sex? Probably not something I needed to admit at that moment. “… had an itch.”
Blue cotton. Not terribly sexy, but not ripped at least. Not huge like Bridget Jones’s had been, either. Still, if only I’d had some clue today would be Sex Day, I would have grabbed one of those barely worn thongs I’d been saving for just such an occasion.
“Well, as I was saying, this is the kitchen …” I followed him into a rather large farmhouse-style kitchen with a center chef island, lots of counter space and a small table with a cheery red checked tablecloth in one corner. “I love to cook,” he said, running a hand over the island. “Sometime I’ll make you something, if you’d like.”
“That’d be nice. I’d like that,” I said, feeling awkward and shy all of a sudden. Wanton sex goddess I was not. And besides, what if I’d completely misread the situation? What if all that had been on his mind was dog walking and today had not been Sex Day after all?
“Did you want to give Bowser a treat?” Jamie asked.
“Uh, sure,” I said, trying to come out of my haze. To be completely truthful, I’d have preferred to give Jamie a treat, but I was getting less and less sure he’d be interested in such a thing. Or maybe he was too nervous to follow through, now that we were here. I leaned against the counter, kind of wishing we’d never left work.
“They’re up here.” He pointed at the cabinet above my head. “Duck for a minute, will you?” I ducked out of the way only to have my head smack into his solid chest, which did nothing for soothing my raging libido. He closed the cabinet and I raised my head.
He was standing very, very close. And there could be no mistaking the look in his eye.
A moment later, he was on me, the box of treats crashing to the floor. (Bowser was going to have a field day.) His body crushed against me as he attacked my lips with his own. I struggled to breathe as want consumed me and fire burned in my belly. No longer shy, I clawed at his shirt, yanking it above his head so I could run my fingers along his chest.
He scooped me up onto the counter, spreading my legs. I wrapped them around his waist, feeling his desire, pressing against me. He wanted me, too. Badly, by the feel of it. He tugged up my skirt and peeled off my panties, not even giving them a second glance, which was probably for the best. As his mouth lowered to nibble at my neck, his hands fumbled with my button-down blouse, parting it and exposing my Vicky Secret’s lacy bra underneath.
God, his touch felt so good. Delicious torture. “Hurry,” I begged between kisses. “You’re going to make me explode.”
He grinned against my mouth. “Good things come to those who wait,” he murmured, reaching under my skirt and stroking me with a rhythmic pulse as his other hand cupped and teased my right breast. I shivered as the sensations coursed through me, too many to catalog individually.
“Jamie, please,” I moaned, dying for him. I reached in front of me to unbuckle his belt, then unbuttoning and unzipping him until his pants fell to his ankles.
I realized he wasn’t wearing any underwear at all. My gaze dropped down, taking him in. I couldn’t believe he and I had already had sex once and I’d blacked it out. I mean, how
the hell did a girl forget a man like him?
He grabbed my ass and pulled me to the edge of the counter. Then, after slipping on a condom I didn’t see him grabbing, he pushed himself inside of me, filling me completely. I cried out in pleasure and bit his bare shoulder. I’d wanted this for so long. Maybe my whole life. And I was determined to enjoy every minute of it. At this moment, rocking against him as one, nothing else in life mattered. Nothing except his burning mouth, relentless fingers and hard, fast thrusts against me. Soon I was seeing the stars that heroines in romance novels always blabbed on and on about. And, let me tell you, they were more beautiful than I’d ever imagined.
Jamie came a moment later, crying out then collapsing against me, burying his face in my hair. His breathing came hard, fast, erratic, tickling my ear. I could have come again just from that.
“Gurp,” I managed, not ready to form real English words yet.
I could feel his smile against my neck. “Gurp,” he agreed. Then he scooped me up in his arms and carried me gently into the bedroom. He lay me down on the bed and climbed in next to me, pulling a soft blue comforter over us and cuddling me close.
“Maddy,” he said, stroking my cheek and looking at me with big puppy dog eyes. “Oh, Maddy.”
I knew exactly what he meant. I felt the same way. Words were completely unnecessary. Useless to describe what had just taken place between us.
I leaned forward and planted a kiss on his nose. I wanted to lighten the mood. Otherwise I’d probably break into helpless tears of joy.
I’d never thought this would happen. I didn’t even dare pray or wish for it. But now here he was, mine all mine, no strings attached. I could scarcely believe it.
“Great tour.” I grinned. “I feel like I know the place … intimately.”