“Matt.” The bright parking lot lights allowed me to see the desire in her eyes.
“Madi.” I reached up and brushed the back of my hand along her cheek.
She leaned into my hand before straightening her neck and spine. “It’s a bad idea.”
“How about a peck on the cheek? For appearance’s sake.”
Madi thought about it for a second before agreeing, “That’s acceptable.”
I cupped her cheek in my right hand and leaned in to kiss her other one. From this angle it’d look like a regular lip-on-lip kiss to anyone watching from the bar.
My lips lingered on her cheek, savoring her smooth silky skin and enjoying her warm breath dancing across my cheek.
Her hands moved to my waist and inched around my back, so I pulled her in for a hug.
Her five-foot-eight frame put her head on my shoulder and her cheek against my chest.
“Do you have an erection?”
I turned my hips away.
“I have a gorgeous woman in my arms, of course I do.”
She pulled and sighed. “Good night, Matt.”
“Good night, Madi,” I said, resisting the urge to call her Red.
After she locked her door, I glanced back toward the bar.
Colt’s was out for the night; I couldn’t risk blowing Madi’s cover story.
Maybe another bar?
No. No one could hold a candle to Madeleine Sheppard. I went home and relieved my stress in the shower to memories of Madi tied up in a red scarf.
Chapter 5
Madi
After a long night of helping Meg with Natalie, I treated myself to an extra shot of espresso in my coffee.
“Long night?” Beth Wyatt, my mother’s best friend and manager at Grannie’s, asked. I’d already joined the Navy when Beth started working for my mom, so I hadn’t gotten to know her in person until recently. But Mom talked about her and her son, Chase, a lot, so it felt like we’d known each other forever.
Chase was their godson, and until Natalie was born, their surrogate grandchild. In other words, they spoiled him.
“Yeah, Nat was gassy.” I covered my yawn and hoped the tears didn’t smudge my mascara.
“I remember those nights,” she said, chuckling. “Want a pastry?”
“Nah, Jack made us breakfast.” My brother was the husband and dad most women dreamed of having.
“Here you go.” The large to-go cup felt like a warm hug for my hands as I lifted it and inhaled the rich aroma.
My brothers and I practically grew up in Grannie’s. When we were young, we’d sit in booths and color after school. Mom taught us the value of a strong work ethic by ‘letting’ us do little things to help, like fill the napkin dispensers. When we were kids, it was fun.
The fun stopped when Mom added us to the payroll. We learned how to make all the drinks, handle inventory, and operate the register when we turned sixteen. All four of us worked part time throughout high school. It’s fair to say that even though Mom wouldn’t allow us to drink coffee until we turned eighteen, we were all addicts before then.
It wasn’t her fault; we snuck coffee drinks. There were worse things we could’ve been sneaking.
