The house fell quiet again.
For about three seconds.
Then a cheerful voice drifted back through the door.
“You’re welcome!”
Maddox slowly turned back toward the bed, rubbing both hands over his face.
“I’m calling my dad tomorrow,” he muttered.
I grinned.
“I think she’s rooting for us.”
He stared at me.
“That’s exactly what I’m afraid of.”
I didn't care what he said. I loved Hazel Lexington.
???
The weekend finally came, and with it Hazel and Jonathan’s departure. Their car had barely disappeared down the street before the house seemed to exhale.
Which meant Maddox was officially on the prowl.
After that first disastrous night with his mother under the same roof, Maddox had developed something close to performance anxiety. Not because he lacked confidence—far from it—but because Hazel had a supernatural ability to appear at the worst possible moments.
Now the house was quiet again.
And Maddox had noticed.
I could feel the tension humming in the air from the moment he came home from work. Even when we were cooking dinner together in the kitchen, he was extra handsy, brushing past me far more often than necessary, his hands lingering on my waist or sliding along my hips when he thought I wasn’t paying attention.
The dinner table was the worst.
He watched me the entire time.
Not casually either. The way he looked at me made it seem like I should be the main course instead of the roast duck sitting between us.
“How about a movie tonight?” I asked lightly, cutting into my food as if I hadn’t noticed the way his eyes kept drifting to my legs.
“I think we both know that’s not going to happen,” he muttered.
“Why-ever not?” I asked innocently, hiding the smile tugging at my lips.
“My parents have left.”
“What does that have to do with watching a movie?”
His gaze dropped pointedly to my plate.
“Finish your food and go to the third floor,” he said evenly.“And I’ll tell you.”
“But the dishes—”
“I’ll deal with them.”
