I’m done, he thought.
And the best part? It was absolutely true. He’d been telling himself for months that he was over Ella.
Now he knew it for a certainty.
He considered just blowing off her texts.
But ghosting was for wimps.
He texted back:Leave it alone, Ella. You and I are done. Don’t contact me again.And then he blocked her number—after which he still felt like he had ants crawling under his skin.
His irritation really had nothing to do with Ella Robson.
He was pissed off because it wasn’t Maddy who’d sent him four texts in a row.
What was this thing he had for unavailable women, anyway? First a single mom determined to get back with the husband who’d walked out on her.
Now a movie star—and yeah, okay, Maddy claimed she was leaving her big-time career behind. Sten actually believed thatshebelieved she would do it.
He just didn’t think it would happen. She’d dedicated her life to becoming the best of the best at what she did. It made no sense for her to walk away from all that at the top of her game.
In the end, she would return to LA and get on with her real life. He could just picture her, looking back with wistful fondness on her time with him at Sweetheart Cove.
So yeah, Sten had no illusions about how things would shake out with Maddy in the end. After she’d sent him away last night, he’d been telling himself that avoiding her from here on out was the best course.
And it might have been.
Except he was already in too deep.
* * *
The cottage seemed so quiet and empty when Madison got home.
She dropped her bag on the narrow table by the front door and went on through to the great room. She was just about to turn on a light when she saw the tall, broad-shouldered figure standing out on the deck.
Sten. He was leaning on the railing, staring off toward the beach and the restless ocean beyond.
Her heart lifted and her skin felt all prickly, her blood suddenly hot as it raced through her veins. She left the light off and went straight to the slider, where she hesitated, her hand on the latch, in delicious indecision.
Because she was still mad at him and she wasn’t sure she even wanted to talk to him—except, well, she did. So much. She wanted to feel his hard arms around her, his soft lips on hers. She wanted him to admit that he’d been so wrong, that they had something special and he was actually willing to give them a chance.
Either he’d heard Jax’s truck out in front or he’d somehow sensed her presence in the dark house behind him. Straightening and turning, he locked eyes with her through the glass.
A long, lovely shiver went through her, a shiver that felt like surrender. She pushed the slider wide.
It was all the encouragement he needed. He came for her, blue eyes burning, long legs eating up the distance in quick, determined strides.
“Maddy.” He stopped a foot away from her. “I’m sorry. I was jerk.”
She willed him closer.
And he took that last step. He cradled her face in those big, rough hands and lowered his beautiful mouth to hers.
She sighed at the wonder of it—at all of it. At his coming to find her, at the way he’d admitted right off that he’d behaved badly.
And even more than his apology, she melted at the way he made her feel, at the warmth of his breath across her skin, the hungry look in his eyes as his palms coasted out over her shoulders and down her arms. He cupped his hands around the back of hers and eased his fingers in, lacing them together with hers.
And he kissed her for a long time, right there in the open doorway, kissed her gently—and yet not. Kissed her with a kind of leashed forcefulness that had her wishing he might never stop.
