“Is it meat?” I asked, towering over her. I lowered my voice since I didn’t want to be intimidating, but I also didn’t want to back away and lose that soft, linen-fresh scent of hers. “High-quality protein? Seasoned to perfection and cooked to a perfect medium rare? Do you have sweet potatoes with bourbon cinnamon butter? How ’bout steak fries? Because I got those too. And remember, extra buns.”
Her stomach growled and she scowled.
“Thought so,” I said, triumphant.
She licked her lips, and goddamn, her tongue was almost my undoing. I was close enough to capture her mouth, to pull her to me and bend her back until she completely submitted to me.
“Why are you doing this?” she asked in a ragged voice.
I snapped my restraint back in place. A missing puzzle piece she seemed to unknowingly control. “Doing what?”
“Being nice to me. I hired you for a job. That’s all. And I need it done as soon as possible.”
The distrust in her gaze unraveled me. So did her dread, like she was just waiting to be hurt or insulted in some way. I didn’t draw back. I leaned in closer, my mouth to her ear. “Because you’re worth being kind to, Mads, and I don’t care how tangled our history is, I’ll never treat you otherwise.”
A nervous breath stuttered out of her. “You don’t like me.”
I pulled away far enough to look her in the eye. “Seems that I like you just fine, Mad Maddy.”
She jolted like that nickname was a downed wire, and the green in her hazel eyes glowed brighter. “Don’t call me that.”
“Why not? Mad Maddy’s cheeks get flushed and her eyes spit fire. I’m starting to wonder if people piss you off because you’re quite the sight to behold when you’re angry. Some guys might wonder where else you express that passion.”
Her mouth dropped open.
Shit. I went too far.
“So whatdya say? Can we be friends or something?” The word was heavy on my tongue.Friends. I was starting to have some unfriendlike thoughts about Madison.
“My last friend was pretending so she could keep me busy while Wendi fucked my husband.” Betrayal and embarrassment shimmered in her gaze. “It was Riley.”
Shock zapped me. Goddamn, I was not prepared for that confession. How much shit had this woman gone through? She might be tough as steel, but she was full of dents.
“Jesus. She did that?” It was everything I could do not to trace my fingers down her cheek. She didn’t wear makeup and she didn’t have to. She had cheeks that reddened with a thought, and thick, dark eyelashes. Was her skin as soft as it looked?
She nodded, pain scrawled all over her pretty features. “So you see why I don’t have friends.”
If I could, I’d massage each tense muscle she had. Yet she was on edge. If I put one fingertip on her, she’d shut down. She’d think I was using her like everyone else. “What about Ruby?”
“I hired her for consulting.”
“But you’re friends.”
She screwed her face up, and damn it was cute. “No.”
The trust issues went deep. She trusted me as a Bailey and with the bar. She didn’t extend that feeling to her, but I wouldn’t give up. I’d start with a damn good meal. “So you gonna eat my food then? We both have some long hours of work ahead and I need to talk to you about what we’re doing with this place.”
Her frown was back, like it was her default expression. “I thought I told you that I wanted it restored to the way Scott had it.”
“You did, but I have some ideas. It’s not what you paid the big bucks for, but I’m asking you to hear me out. Just give me a little time to explain.”
She ran her hands over her braid, but the heaviness of her expression lifted. “Is this the first time you had to ask for a girl’s attention? You gonna be okay?”
A smile played over her lips, and I lifted a brow at her levity. Now that was more like it. “I have four sisters. I know what it’s like to be ignored by women.”
She laughed, a pleasing chime that should be heard more. “Why don’t you program my number into your phone so you don’t walk in on me again?”
“You’re not giving me a good reason to give you my number.”
