Maddie and Wyn (5 page)

Unbearably uncomfortable, Maddie withdrew her hand and pushed to her feet. Without looking at Devlin—she couldn’t stand for him to see her weakness—she told him, “Two weeks. Not a day more. Tell him if you want. I’m going back to work.”

With that, Maddie got the hell out of Dodge. Forget a possible squatter or even a ghost, Wyn was now the most dangerous and uncertain part of Maddie’s home. And in less than five hours she had to come back.

For the first time in her life, Maddie was well and properly fucked.

Seven hours later—Maddie had not delayed her evening on purpose, she’d had an emergency situation with a regular customer and had gone out on a road call—Maddie trotted up to her porch, her pulse already humming faster than it had all day. The thumping had begun the moment she’d spotted Wyn swaying on the porch swing from halfway across the field.
It’s just going to be him and me, alone, for two weeks straight.
Maddie exhaled and tried to bring her heart rate back in order.

By the time she reached the top of the steps, Wyn was on his feet, at the door, bag in hand. Still in uniform, he leaned against the doorframe, too incredibly close already, and Maddie averted her eyes before she got caught staring.

As she unlocked the door, Wyn said, “Your porch lights automatically come on in the evening. That’s smart.”

“Thank you.” Still facing forward, she unlocked the door and let them inside.

Wyn followed, and added, “I’m grateful that you came around to the idea of letting me stay here for a while.”

Nice and easy, in and out breaths.
“You’re welcome.” A standard part of her routine, Maddie walked into the living room, dropped her keys in a bowl on the coffee table, kicked off her shoes, and then kept moving, rounding a short corridor into the kitchen.

Wyn followed. “I’ve never properly congratulated you on taking partial ownership of the garage and on owning your first home. Both are a big deal, and you’ve worked hard for a long time and deserve both.”

“Thank you.” Her stomach too knotted to eat, Maddie still opened the refrigerator door. She stood there looking in, determined to maintain normalcy and cook something, even if it was just leftovers.

With just a few steps, Wyn settled against the counter next to her, his legs and arms casually crossed. “I sent the candy wrappers to Portland,” he shared. “A guy I know who works in the crime lab there is going to check them out off the record.” He dipped down briefly, deliberately, and she couldn’t avoid the empathy—kindness she didn’t want to see—in his gaze. “I’m guessing part of your resistance to all of this is that you don’t want any attention on yourself. I know you’re a private person. I want to respect that as much as I possibly can, while still trying to help you.”

Shaking a tremble out of her hand, Maddie pulled her attention away and grabbed some leftover pasta salad, a tomato, and cucumber. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” From behind her, a bite finally edged Wyn’s tone. “See? I can give short answers too, if that’s what you want.”

Heat suddenly exploded inside Maddie. She whirled on Wyn, every bit of fear and unwanted physical attraction and confusion about him bubbling fast to the surface. “You’re here because I wasn’t given any good choices! I’m not sure what you want me to say!”

Wyn shot away from the counter, all six-foot-four of him consuming the room. “I don’t know how to talk to you any more either, Maddie! Cut me some slack!” Just as fast as he’d shouted, he snapped his mouth closed, shook his head, and ground his fist against the counter. “Shit. I’m sorry. I apologize.” He took a moment, then smiled awkwardly. “Let’s start over. How about for the moment you give me the directions to my room?”

Her chest heaving much too fast, the beat within almost painfully hard, Maddie clutched the food to her chest like a shield. More than anything, she did not want him to know the power he still had over her. “There are four free ones to choose from upstairs.” Once again today, her words and tone more carefully controlled than ever before, Maddie answered, “You can have whichever one you want.”

With an abbreviated bow, he gave her a two finger salute. “I’ll do that. Thank you.”

Once Wyn left the kitchen, Maddie put down her dinner, covered her face with her hands, and stifled the threat of tears.
What the heck am I doing?
Maddie hated being bitchy with Wyn, and hated even more that she’d become a person who couldn’t control when she was. The snark and cutting responses came from one place inside her: fear. She knew it. Worse though, she knew Wyn knew it too. He knew she was afraid of his presence in her home, and that gave him leverage, something she could not afford to hand over to him.

I changed that once
. Maddie sat up as the memory filled her psyche. One night, many years ago, Maddie had taken a chance, let go of her sarcasm with Wyn Ashworth, flung her soul out into the bitterly cold night air, and hoped he cared about her enough to catch it and keep it safe…

* * * *

…Knit cap pulled down over her ears, scarf tucked securely around her neck, gloves protecting her fingers, her wool coat buttoned up tight, Maddie stepped out onto the porch of Aidan and Ethan’s cabin. She clicked the door securely closed behind her, trapping the jovial merriment of the party within the home.

Bitter wind swept through the night air, pushing through the myriad of trees, creating a whistling effect that carried through the woods. Porch lights and track lights along a gravel walkway showcased elongated circles of emptiness on the rugged front lawn, highlighting that everyone with sense remained cozy indoors. Vast swaths of nature, void of human intruders, loomed far and wide, but Maddie traipsed down the steps and started down the path anyway, a woman on a mission.

A few minutes ago Maddie had spotted Wyn slip quietly out of the party, unnoticed by all the revelers. But not her. Maddie noticed everything about Wyn, much as it tormented her that she did. She hated being so fascinated by an older guy who would never view her as anything more than Aidan and Devlin’s kid sister, someone worthy of minor teasing and not much else. It was different for her. She secretly really liked him, much more than she probably should.

Because she paid such close attention to Wyn, she’d noticed him take a call on his cell, step into the bathroom with the phone to his ear, and come out a few minutes later white as a ghost. He’d immediately, visibly searched the room with his gaze, not stopping until it had landed on Ethan. At the same time, Aidan tugged Ethan into his arms, whispered something to him, and Ethan laughed and pulled Aidan in for a kiss. Rather than go to his brother, Wyn had tucked his head down, casually moved to the front door, and stepped outside.

In the minutes afterward, Maddie had stood there still and silent, certain she’d just witnessed something much too private, something beyond her scope of abilities to help. At the same time, her chest panged with this terrible aching tightness, not for herself but for Wyn. On automatic she’d grabbed all her outerwear, put it on in record time, and slipped outside.

Uncertain, but silently telling herself she was eighteen now and not a kid anymore, certainly capable of being a friend, Maddie followed the path away from the cars and cabin, toward a person her gut told her was in need. At the end of the trail, next to a creek, she reached a sitting area carved out of old trees and spotted Wyn on one of the beautiful makeshift benches, hands shoved into his pockets, staring straight ahead into the darkness.

Stepping carefully, Maddie walked in front of Wyn and took a seat next to him on the bench. The moon and soft ground lighting cast Wyn in shadows, but Maddie didn’t need anything stronger to see that Wyn hadn’t twitched so much as a muscle upon her arrival.

For the first time since knowing Wyn, Maddie couldn’t feel the warmth his body normally emanated so powerfully. She shivered, but scooted closer to him, for once grateful for her height and strength and size, praying maybe some of the body heat in her would reach across the small space between them and envelop him.

Sitting so close to Wyn, Maddie stared ahead too, tucked her gloved hands in her coat pockets, and crossed her booted feet at the ankles in a mirror of him. “The creek is beautiful and bursting with goodness this time of year, isn’t it?” She kept her voice chipper and amiable as she stared at the frozen, not-at-all-lively water source. “The way the crystal-clear water trickles over the smooth stones, and the little fish swimming, and the birds who land on the rocks to indulge in a drink of water.” She made a happy sound and wiggled on her seat, painting a picture that couldn’t be farther from the barren visual before them. “So inviting. I always like to come sit here at this time of the year, most especially in the cold and dark, and challenge myself not to strip down to my skivvies and jump right in. It’s very hard to resist.” She nudged him then, shoulder to shoulder, and asked, “Is it the same for you?”

“I’m not in the mood, Maddie.” Only Wyn’s lips moved, and not more than enough to spit out the terse sentence. “I’m not on my game enough to hold my own against you.”

“I wasn’t trying to jab you, Wyn,” Maddie promised, her voice tightening as new nerves kicked in. “I was hoping to cajole you into talking, and maybe even smiling too.”

He shook his head, and his entire frame tensed up even more. “No.” That one word, shot with the precision of a bullet, tore into flesh and pierced Maddie’s heart. “Go away. I need to be alone.”

Shame and embarrassment flooded Maddie with clammy cold, and she wanted to slink under the bench and disappear forever. Insecurity took hold, invading her heart and mind. Who was she to give comfort to a man who’d never asked or expressed an interest in a real friendship with her? She was nothing, barely eighteen, not even a full mechanic yet, while Wyn was college educated and an officer of the law trained to deal with heightened and dangerous situations without losing his composure.
I should go.

Maddie pushed up from the frigid bench, started to cross in front of Wyn to leave, but something in her soul screeched at her to stop.
He needs someone to be here for him more than you need your own personal comfort or to save face. You can’t leave him out here by himself.

Forget looking like a statue, Wyn was a mountain in front of her, giant and unmovable. Maddie took a seat on a stump designed to be a footrest, without possessing a clue about how to create even a tiny crack in Wyn’s foundation. She had no skills in this area, let alone the proper tools to help. Still—
he looks so painfully alone
—she had to try.

Facing Wyn, looking up at him from her lower position, Maddie blurted, “I saw you answer your phone inside,” deciding to attack with the truth. He immediately pushed back into the bench, and she went on, “I saw you look for Ethan after you took that call. Whoever you talked to, whatever it was about, your instinct was to have the comfort of your brother. Now I know I’m not Ethan, and I know you don’t think of me as an equal or an adult, but maybe just for tonight I can be an ear for you and help.”

With that said, Maddie waited quietly, each second that ticked by feeling like an hour, watching Wyn for the slightest response. Wyn remained stoic, unblinking, his focus averted from eye contact, like stone.

It’s not working.
Worrying the edge of her lower lip, rubbing the tips of her fingers together through her gloves, Maddie stared down at the snow-covered ground as her heart and her mind battled over which could race the fastest. She dug the toes of her heavy winter boots into the mix of snow and dirt, creating little circles, and fought an internal battle to hide, a sensation akin to how she felt five days a week when she entered the school cafeteria, knowing she would always sit alone to eat.
Wait.
Maddie’s chest seized, but her head had already formed the thought:
Be vulnerable. Give him something personal; tell him about some of your life.

Even as the follow-up thought was,
no, don’t
, Maddie’s blood pumped much too fast, and she looked up at him before she could chicken out. “I don’t have a lot of friends.” With those words, he jerked his attention to her, and Maddie employed every ounce of willpower in her not to duck her head and hide. “I don’t really have any friends in school, if you want the truth. Ever since Aidan ran away, when I was so little, I’ve been kind of different. After he left, I became super attached to Dev, poor guy. I guess I figured if I stayed close to the one brother I did still have, and if I liked what he liked, and basically never let him be alone, he wouldn’t get the chance to disappear the way Aidan did.”

Memories of losing Aidan for over a dozen years, of waking up one day and having her big brother gone, at a time when she was wasn’t even old enough to go to kindergarten yet, let alone comprehend the complex reasons for a brother disappearing in the middle of the night, filled Maddie with as much anxiety at eighteen as it had those many years ago.

Maddie wiped sweat off her upper lip, even though the temperature was cold enough to make the liquid freeze. Still, she held onto Wyn’s stare and let him see what she’d never exposed to another soul. “Doing what I did, attaching myself to Devlin, isolated me from other kids my age. I can comprehend that now, but as a little kid I didn’t really know what the effect would be on my life. By the time I got into middle school and then high school it was too late to change; my interests were set in place, they were real, and they didn’t coincide with what most kids in high school are into, especially other girls. I couldn’t find a way in—at least not one I felt right or good doing—so I stayed on the fringes, and Devlin remained my rock, even though at that point I figured I was probably cramping his style and his ability to make friends too.”

Maddie smiled then and even rolled her eyes heavenward, although the unintentional humor was aimed at herself rather than God or fate. “Then I started working for Mr. Corsini, and I started getting interested in cars. It didn’t take long before I realized having a job at an auto body shop while most teens have jobs at the mall was another thing that made me different. And even though at that point I was getting to know Mr. Corsini, and the other guys around the garage were sweet to me, it was still just another thing that made me different and odd to the other kids at my school.” Just talking about the isolation swamped Maddie with loneliness anew, and the laughter went away. “I’m grateful that Dev indulges me most of the time, and I love the shop and Mr. Corsini, but that doesn’t change the fact that I go to school every single day and am alone for all those hours, nobody to talk to or lean on or laugh with, while everyone else is in their own cliques and groups doing the things I assume teenagers are supposed to do.”