She gets all of me, and I’m taking all of her. Every part.
“Does it mean you’re my own personal hair washer, too?” she teases, lifting her eyes. The shuttered fear is gone now, like she’s buried it and decided to try to move on. “I gotta say, I think I’m ruined for showers now. It’s going to be baths only from now on. The logistics will be a nightmare, but I’m willing to put in the work to give you whatyouneed.”
I’m gratified by the ease in her tone. It’s only been hours, but it feels like it’s been far too long without bratty, lighthearted Madison. “Go to sleep, you little menace.”
Her smile crinkles the corners of her eyes as a lock of green hair falls sideways across her face. “Yes, Sir.”
I can recognize this for what it is—a deliberate shift to a lighter topic. It’s too soon for a declaration of feelings. Too much has happened today. She’s not ready, but instead of shutting down she’s dispelling the tension.
God, I love how her mind works, and how easy it is for her to analyze and sort through information. I love how she uses every tool and weapon at her disposal to vie for power—power I have no intention of relinquishing, but it’s such fun watching her try. I love the way her lips tip up at the corners in anticipation ofmy laughter whenever she says something clever. I love her beautiful, soft body. I love her confidence in it.
I love… her.
She turns back onto her other side so we can spoon. I drag her against my chest and hold her tighter, just as I intend to do going forward. I nearly lost her today. I nearly let her down.
I have to be better. Have to try harder.Haveto figure out what’s going on. And until I get this mess sorted out with the General, I’ll need to hold Madison tighter.
Being locked out of the system is concerning—any lack of information is concerning—so, first chance we get, we’ll need to retreat behind the 12-foot gate and the safety of the group.
In the morning, we’ll head there first thing. For now… Like this, with her in my arms, I think I could sleep through the night for the first time in years.
26
Madison
I’m taking control this time.
Light wakes me, and I’m instantly blinded when I open my eyes. I shout in pain and roll away from it, only to bolt back in fright when a sharp yowl protests the movement. I sit up, finding an irritated, ruffled cat stretching in the center of the bed. Immediately, I scoop him up and hug him to my bare chest, burying my face in his soft fur. He wriggles in my grip, but eventually starts purring at the attention.
I don’t know how Wesley did it, because I doubt this fancy-ass hotel allows pets, but he reunited me with my son. My heart feels so full it might burst as I sit with the rush of emotions, calmed by the gentle sound of a contented cat.
When Some Bills starts wriggling to be released again, I let him go, and he saunters to the end of the bed to groom himself.
The light that temporarily stunned me is sneaking in through a thin crack in the middle of the thick curtains, but the room is dark otherwise, and I can’t hear Wesley moving around in the bathroom. But the evidence of him is everywhere—mussed sheets, clothes neatly folded on a chair, electronics on every available surface. Yeah, no way he’s leaving all this behind.
My eyes snag on a familiar suitcase on the chair near the air conditioner.
Okay, seriously. This man is… almost too perfect. He literally thinks of everything. It’s amazing how much small gestures matter.
It feels like a million years ago when I packed it, but it was only two days ago. I throw off the covers and go to grab some clothes, making a face at the sight of my appearance in the mirror as I pass—as a lifelong wavy/curly girl, I know better than to go to bed with wet hair. Windblown lion isn’t my best look, so luckily I packed a hairbrush when I was planning on skippingtown.
Wesley’s not back by the time I finish dressing, so I grab my toiletries bag and head into the bathroom to brush the fuzzy socks off my teeth and tame the mane.
As I brush my teeth, I gape at all the fixtures and amenities that I was too distracted to notice last night. In-room espresso bar, heated marble floors, a bidet toilet… This is the nicest hotel I’ve ever been to. I mean, not that it’s a huge list—we were way too lower middle class growing up to go anywhere—but you gotta have big money to stay somewhere like this.
The sound of the door opening makes my heart leap, but it quickly settles when I hear that familiar British voice, “I brought breakfast.”
I clutch the edge of the sink, inhaling deeply to calm myself. Normally I’d be irritated with myself for being so jumpy, but I’d say considering the events of the past 24 hours, it’s the appropriate response. “Be right out. Is there bacon?”
“There is.”
“And coffee?”
“Café Bustelo.”
That stops me. I trade my toothbrush for a hairbrush and poke my head out of the bathroom. Wesley has a tray balanced on his forearm as he’s locking the door behind him. My mouth waters at the scents wafting off the white plates, but bacon isn’t what’s making my heart race.Dios, the man can wear a pair of jeans.
“They had Café Bustelo here?” I ask, letting my eyes linger on how the denim hugs his legs all the way around.
