Take A Chance On Me (14 page)

“The pro football player?” Donovan wasn’t exactly as common as Smith, but it was common enough that he’d never connected the names. Besides, why would he connect the petite, flame-haired Maddie with the six-five athlete?

A hometown boy drafted by the Bears had been big news a few years back. But now, at the height of his career, with a fat contract and too much wildness for his own good, he was a media favorite. He was in the paper as much for his exploits as his wide receiver skills.

“That’d be the one,” Charlie said.

“I’d think he’d be too busy chasing his next piece of supermodel ass to come get Maddie.” Mitch could only hope, because he couldn’t ignore that it was the offseason and training camp didn’t start until the end of July.

“Don’t know.” Charlie scrubbed at his jaw. “Maddie seems awfully close to her brothers, but he’s not my main concern.”

A local football player prone to creating media frenzies showing up in Revival was about the worst problem Mitch could think up. “Just spit it out for fuck’s sake! This isn’t a soap opera—you don’t need to pause for dramatic effect.”

Charlie shot him an amused glance. “Fine, her other brother is Shane Donovan.”

Mitch blinked. He couldn’t have heard correctly. “You’re shitting me.”

“’Fraid not.”

Mitch placed his palms flat on the bar to steady himself. This was not good. Maddie’s brother was one of the most connected and influential people in Chicago.

The pieces from Maddie’s past clicked into place, forming a new image of one Shane Donovan. Bits of news articles flashed in Mitch’s mind. After the man’s father had died in a tragic car accident, leaving his family financially destitute and on the edge of disaster, Shane had built a commercial real estate company from scratch until he held contracts all over the city. He knew everyone: teamsters, union heads, the mayor, CEOs. Everyone who was anyone.

He was not the kind of guy who’d let his sister go missing.

“If even half the stories are true, he’ll be coming for his baby sister sooner rather than later,” Charlie said, echoing Mitch’s own thoughts. “His revenge is legendary, and I doubt he’ll take lightly to you corrupting her.”

Little did Charlie know that Mitch had been a virtual saint when it came to Maddie, although he doubted that her brother would bother with the particulars.

He raked his hands through his hair. “Fuck.”

Charlie smirked. “I think that pretty much sums it up.”

Mitch’s gripped tightened on the bar until his knuckles turned white. “He’s had run-ins with dear old dad.”

“Yep,” Charlie said, almost sounding cheerful. “And you don’t have the best reputation.”

A chill settled low in Mitch’s gut. This had trouble written all over it. He took a deep breath and loosened his death grip on the counter. “I’ll worry about it when the time comes.”

Charlie shook his head, giving Mitch the resigned, hardened look he reserved for lifelong criminals. “You never fucking learn, do you?”

Mitch crossed his arms. All his instincts warned of trouble, but he was damned if he intended to listen. Charlie was right: he hadn’t learned a fucking thing.

Chapter Thirteen

Maddie ran down the dark sidewalk, her gym shoes pounding on the pavement as the humid night air hit her face. Restless and unable to sit still after the phone conversation with Steve, she’d paced through the house, her mind tumbling with thoughts about both her past and her future. The mental gymnastics did nothing to wear her out, so she decided that the only cure was a run.

She hadn’t exercised in a week, and as soon as she hit her stride she remembered why she’d taken up the habit in the first place. It calmed her mind and soothed away all the jagged edges of her emotions. She sucked in a lungful of air, loving the smell of grass and summer.

Out of nowhere, the sound of her dad’s loud, boisterous laugh filled her mind, so crystal clear that it made her want to look over her shoulder to see if he was there. Her chest tightened at the bittersweet remembrance. To her surprise, the familiar loss and ache of grief didn’t hit her like a ton of bricks the way it normally did. Instead, a distant, long-forgotten memory pricked at the corners of her mind.

She’d been twelve, caught between being a child and becoming a teenager, filled with all the emotional upheaval of that age. She’d been upset because her mom had signed her up for dance class instead of the cool abstract sculpture class she’d wanted to take. Her mom had insisted Maddie needed to be a “more well-rounded young lady,” and wasn’t it nice that Penelope was also taking dance? Maddie’s temper had flared, and she’d stomped around the kitchen, kicking up a fuss about how her mom probably wished Penelope were her daughter because she was perfect and Maddie wasn’t even close.

Patrick Donovan had scolded Maddie for her outburst and upsetting her mother, and then he’d taken her fishing at a nearby lake. She’d hated fishing almost as much as she’d hated ballet, and she’d sat there, a sullen, resentful tween refusing to even hold the pole. Her dad just shrugged and cast his line. They drifted along in the quiet for a good forty-five minutes before he broke the silence.

“You know, I’ve never told anyone this before, but when Evan was born your mom cried because she’d wanted a girl so bad.”

The admission shook Maddie from her sulk. “Really?”

He nodded, solemnly. “Now, I’m trusting you not to run off and tell him. She was disappointed to have lost her girl, but she didn’t love him any less than a mother should.”

It made her feel like an adult to be trusted with such a big secret, and pride replaced her bad temper. “Cross my heart and hope to die,” she said, giving him the sacred vow of a twelve-year-old girl.

He placed his big strong hand on her shoulder and smiled. “I didn’t want another child, but your mom wanted a girl and I could never deny her anything, so I promised her one more shot. When you were born, she held you tight in her arms, wrapped in a tiny pink blanket, and talked about the things you’d do together. All the cute dresses and baby dolls she’d buy you.” He laughed, that full-bodied sound she loved. “By the time you were two you hated dresses and had to be wrangled into one for Sunday mass. Instead of the baby dolls, you wanted to play in the mud and catch a football with your brothers.”

Maddie frowned, resentful over her mom’s expectations. “That sounds like her.”

Patrick shook his head. “Don’t be too hard on her. It’s hard to let go of your dreams sometimes.”

“So she’s disappointed in me,” Maddie said, her tone sullen. She’d known it and didn’t want to care, but she did.

“Heavens no, girl.” Her dad squeezed her tight, kissing her temple. “She’s just searching for a way to relate to you. Still looking for a way to connect to the tiny baby she held in her arms.”

Maddie’s eyes filled with tears as her throat closed up. She wanted that too.

“But here’s the important thing to remember, Maddie. She’s proud of you, even in her frustration, and I am too. And do you know why?”

Maddie shook her head, unable to speak.

“Because it takes courage to walk your own path. Never lose that.”

Ripped from the memory, Maddie came to a crashing halt on the sidewalk. Her breath coming in hard pants and her eyes clouded with tears, she felt the revelation washed over her, breaking apart inside her and forcing a whole new perspective.

She’d lost her path. She’d lost her courage. And her father, regardless of what had happened, would have hated it. The man who had sat there in that boat with his disgruntled daughter would never have wanted her to be suffocated by her family, live a life she hated, or marry a man she cared about but didn’t love.

The understanding set her free in a way that years of therapy never had.

Energy buzzed through her, snapping along neurons and shaking her out of her self-imposed apathy. The heaviness always in her chest lifted, and she wiped the tears from her eyes. Filled with renewed vigor, her mind clear and focused, she turned and started running back to Mitch’s house. She wasn’t going to wait another minute. She was going to start her life, walking her own path with courage and hope, just like her dad would have wanted.

It was only a matter of figuring out who she wanted to become.

 

 

Despite the late hour, long run, and hot shower, Maddie was alert and refreshed as she waited for Mitch. She sat curled on the couch watching her second movie of the evening,
Bringing Up Baby
.

Cary Grant once again got up from the dining room table to follow the dog, George, out into the yard where he was searching for his precious bone while Katherine Hepburn chased after him. Katherine didn’t care one bit if she made a fool of herself over Cary. She wanted him and she went for it, no matter how clumsy and foolish she looked.

Maddie should take notes, minus all the slapstick falling, of course.

For the first time in thirteen years she was going to go for what she wanted, and she wanted Mitch Riley. He was just going to have to put his morals and sense of decency aside. Maybe it was wrong of her—no, scratch that. She was sure it was wrong, lust being a mortal sin and all, but it didn’t matter.

She had five days and didn’t intend to waste them on her knees—at least, not praying.

She’d put on tiny cotton shorts and a skimpy tank top: seductive, but not obvious, considering it was eighty-five at one in the morning. She’d worn her hair loose, a wild tangle of waves down her back. Full makeup lacked subtlety, so she settled for light and natural: mascara, some pale pink creamy blush, and the raspberry Lip Smackers of her youth.

She heard tires on gravel as a car came up the driveway. Excitement sparked as her heart started to pound.

She was as ready as she’d ever be.

A minute later, the kitchen door opened and Maddie sat up, leaning against the arm of the couch as she waited. Dressed for bed, she hadn’t bothered with either a bra or panties, and now felt naked with her nipples poking the thin pink cotton of the tank. The seam of her shorts pressed along her most intimate spots, making her skin tight and hyper-aware.

Jittery with nerves, she gave one fleeting thought to racing upstairs and locking herself in the room when she heard his heavy footsteps in the hallway.

She refused to give into the fear. Not anymore.

When he reached the living room, he paused, shoving his hands into his jean pockets. “You’re still up.”

The soft light from the foyer silhouetted his broad shoulders and tall, lean frame. His gray T-shirt and jeans fit him as if he were an advertisement for female fantasy.

Dangerous and lethal. Completely delicious.

“I couldn’t sleep,” she said. After only a night next to him, she’d already grown used to his warmth on her back. “How was your night?”

In the dim, dull light, she couldn’t read his expression. She had no idea what he looked at, but her skin tingled. She licked her lips, tasting the hint of raspberry on her tongue.

“Fine.” The word sounded strained, and he cleared his throat. “How about yours? I felt bad leaving you.”

She ran her hand through her hair. “Don’t, I was fine. Gracie came over and kept me company, and after, I went for a run.”

“A run?”

“Yes,” she said, smiling. “It was just what I needed.”

He shifted against the doorframe, his hands digging deeper into his pockets. “You shouldn’t be running at night by yourself.”

Maddie blew out a hard breath of exasperation. No! Not now. She didn’t want him all protective. “Does Revival have a high crime rate?”

He crossed one ankle over his foot and propped his shoulder against the wood molding. “No, but—”

“Then there’s nothing to worry about,” she said, cutting him off. “I was fine. I’ll be sore tomorrow, but it was worth it.”

Several beats of silence followed by a heavy sigh. “Did you talk to your family?”

Her stomach dipped. She didn’t want to talk about them. Technically, she hadn’t called them. “No, I talked to my friend Penelope. She’ll let them know I’m alive. Maybe tomorrow.”

He stiffened, and Maddie wished he was in the light so she could read him better. With a wave at the couch, she said, “Aren’t you going to come sit down?”

He hesitated, standing in the doorway but not moving. This wasn’t going right at all. He seemed reluctant, as though he didn’t want to be around her. Teeth clenched, she desperately searched for a plan. She may not have experience with seduction, but she had plenty of experience with testosterone-laden men. She did the only thing guaranteed to work: she challenged him. “Are you afraid I’ll bite?”

Sure enough, he sprang off the wall like he’d been catapulted off it. Gaze falling on the chair, he moved toward it, but she slid farther up the back of the couch and crossed her legs, making it clear she’d made room for him.

A muscled ticked in his jaw, but he sat, eyes glued to the plasma screen. “What are you watching?”

“
Bringing Up Baby
.”

“I’ve never seen it.”

“It’s a screwball comedy my dad used to watch.”

Stiff as a board, he nodded and shifted closer into the corner of the couch.

She blew out an exasperated breath. Well, now wasn’t this one more example of God’s twisted sense of humor? Stupidly, she’d believed as long as she showed plenty of skin, he’d pounce, but no, he was farther away than ever.

Damn knight-in-shining-armor complex—she didn’t care what he said or what he’d done in the past, he had one. As far as she was concerned, he hadn’t really delivered on all his bragging and now the time had come to pay up.

“What’s wrong with you?” she snapped, forgetting to sound the least bit seductive.

“Nothing,” he said in a flat monotone. He stretched his arms over his head, arching back so that the hem of his T-shirt revealed a tantalizing hint of abs, before the strip of skin disappeared from view when he put his arms back down. “Sorry I’m not very good company, I’m exhausted.” With a yawn that Maddie was ninety percent sure was fake, he got up. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

Red dimmed her vision. He was blowing her off, making it clear he wanted to sleep alone. Before she could process the drastic change in his previous delicious behavior, he did the most despicable thing ever.

He patted her on the head! And left!

Her temper flared hot and bright.

He was not going to get away with this.

 

 

Mitch sat on the edge of his bed, practically shaking with lust. Elbows on his knees, his head rested in his palms as he fought to control the voracious desire to go to Maddie and exhaust himself in her body.

Keeping his distance was the safest course of action. He’d been talking himself into this argument all day, and Charlie’s visit had sealed the deal. He couldn’t afford to be rash. He had to get back in control before he made any moves on her. But fuck, he’d underestimated her ability to look like a walking wet dream in shorts and a tank top.

Eyes closed, he willed a control over his body that he didn’t even come close to feeling. Christ, had he ever wanted anyone like this? With this gnawing hunger? Even with Sara, it hadn’t been like this. She’d been more like a sneak attack, not this onslaught.

He shook his head.

Despite her life as a teenage hellion, deep down, Maddie was a good girl. And the truth was—

The door flew open, practically flying off the hinges.

Mitch jerked up to find Maddie standing in the doorway, rage shooting off of her in every direction. “What. In. The. Hell. Was. That?!” She hurled the words at him like bombs.

He winced, struggling to keep his own violent emotions at bay. Smoothing his expression over into a banal mask, he said calmly, “I’m tired.”

She planted her hands on her hips, which were encased in tiny white cotton shorts he wanted to shred off her. Despite her small stature, she looked like an Amazon warrior princess standing there: legs planted, red hair flaming right along with her temper. “So let me get this straight. You have a headache?”

“I’m tired, Maddie. It’s been a long couple of days, and even longer nights. Nothing more, nothing less.” Couldn’t she see how close to the edge he was? He didn’t trust himself with her right now.

Without a trace of fear, she stalked into the room, coming to stand toe to toe with him. Bare feet should have made her look cute and harmless, but there was nothing harmless about her.

Wanting nothing more than to stare down at the floor and find comfort in those pink-tipped toes, he forced himself to meet her gaze, lacing his fingers tightly.

“Don’t you lie to me.” She jabbed a finger at his chest. “I swear to God, you’d better not be protecting me.”

Calm, he needed to remain calm and get her out of here so he could think for one fucking second. He took a steady breath. “I’m not in the mood to talk, Maddie, and that’s the God’s honest truth.”

Her eyes darkened to moss. “That’s it, isn’t it? Don’t treat me like I’m a stupid fragile flower incapable of making hard decisions. I hate that!”