Beautifully Broken: If You Leave Part 13

"Mila, for f.u.c.k's sake. Get the h.e.l.l off the ladder. You're going to break your neck."

She just smiles and shakes her head as she climbs down, ignoring his extended hand.

"Pax. Seriously. I'm pregnant, not sick or crippled. It's OK." She turns to me, rolling her eyes good-naturedly. "Well, well. Gabriel. It's so nice to see you again." She looks from Pax to me curiously. "This is strange. Why are you two together?"

Pax grins. "What? Am I so unlikable that I can't make friends?"

Mila laughs. "You're not unlikable. You're overprotective. And of course you can make friends. You're charming. You just don't realize it."

He waggles his eyebrows. "Oh, I realize it, baby."

Mila giggles and turns to me. "Thank you, guys, for coming to unlock my car. I have pregnancy brain. I'm so forgetful. No one told me that it would affect my memory too."

It's Pax's turn to roll his eyes.

"Babe, let's just face it. Your memory was never good. You can blame heartburn on the baby, gas on the baby, weight gain on the baby... but you really can't blame your bad memory on the poor thing."

Mila blushes and slaps at his arm. "Pax, seriously. I don't have gas. I'm a delicate flower."

He rolls his eyes again. "Whatever you say, sweet. You fart with the best of 'em in your sleep. Just sayin'."

"Oh my G.o.d." Mila blushes darker. "I'm going to pretend you didn't just say that in front of someone." She turns to me again. "Just keep in mind that I'm pregnant, Gabe. It does horrible things to the body." She grins charmingly. "What brings you back to Angel Bay? I thought you lived in Chicago. "

I decide that small-town people have no compunction whatsoever about asking nosy questions and that I shouldn't be annoyed. It would be impossible to be annoyed with Mila Tate anyway. She's as genuine a person as I've ever met.

"No, I'm here to stay for a while. Jacey's having a problem with an ex-boyfriend and I'm here as her security detail."

"Yeah, babe. Jared Markson is still f.u.c.king with them, even after that scene at the Hill the other night. I told Gabriel how you aren't a fan of the guy either," Pax says as he wraps an arm around his wife. "And I told him why."

Mila raises an eyebrow. "So you told him that you broke Jared's hand?"

Pax grins smugly. "Yep. And how I wish I'd broken them both."

"That might have made things easier," I answer wryly. "But whatever. I'll take care of it. He'll wish he hadn't messed with Jacey, I can promise you that."

"Well, just be careful," Mila cautions me, her face concerned. "He used to be a pretty decent guy, back in high school. But he's got a problem with alcohol and it makes him mean. He's not worth you getting hurt or into trouble. Trust me on that."

I smile at her. "Don't worry. I won't get hurt. And I won't get caught."

Pax grins at me. "That's what I'm talking about. If you need help, let me know. I'm still holding a grudge."

While Mila asks us to not personally get involved with Jared, to call the police instead, the bells over the shop door jingle and we all turn to find Madison walking in.

She looks drop-dead gorgeous in a slim skirt that hugs her swaying hips, and knee-high tan boots.

She's smoking hot. And surprised as h.e.l.l to find me here. She's got that deer-caught-in-the-headlights look and I have to chuckle at it.

"Hey, Madison," I can't help but say. "It's so nice to see you."

I'm taunting her and she knows it. I can see her face freeze up, then relax as she consciously makes the effort to hide her surprise. It's an effort that amuses me.

"It's so nice to see you too," she tells me as she strolls through the shop toward us. "Are you an art collector? Or an artist? My sister sells art and art supplies, so either way, you're in the right place."

"Oh, I'm just out for lunch with Pax," I tell her. "And Mila locked her keys in her car, so Pax came to save the day."

Madison glances at Mila. "Pregnancy brain?"

Pax rolls his eyes at me. "It's a conspiracy. There's no such thing."

I chuckle as Mila protests, but she abruptly stops and sniffs at the air.

"Something smells good." She continues to sniff toward Madison.

Madison shakes her head and hands Mila a bag. "You've seriously got the nose of a bloodhound now. It's soup. Tony said to eat it all or he will come over here and spoon-feed it to you. He said it doesn't matter if your morning sickness is back or not, you've still got to eat. And he's right."

Mila takes it and glances at me. "Tony is the bartender at the Hill. He's been with us forever and he's a little protective of my sister and me."

"You could say that," Pax says under his breath. To me he says, "He threatened to break my kneecaps if I ever mistreated Mila."

I smile because Tony seems like my kind of guy.

"I'm sorry," I tell Mila. "I've gotta respect that, though."

Mila rolls her eyes. "Men." But she obediently pulls out the Styrofoam container of soup and sniffs at it. "Eating this will be such a hardship." She grins and spoons some into her mouth. "Very hard."

Mila continues eating while Pax goes outside to unlock her SUV. While he does, I can't help but stare at Madison discreetly.

I've never seen such a beautiful woman in person before. She seems like she stepped right out of the pages of a magazine. I can't tell if she knows how gorgeous she is. Most women know and use it to their every advantage. But Madison doesn't seem to play that card. She seems to rely on her p.r.i.c.kly personality instead.

Unfortunately she notices my covert gaze and the corner of her mouth turns up.

"See something you like?" she asks quietly. I grin back.

"I was just noticing the difference between you and your sister. You don't look a lot alike. Mila's small and dark, and you're tall and pale."

When Madison's cheeks flush, I realize that I could've used more tact. She might be self-conscious about the fact that she's bigger than her sister. Women are weird about that s.h.i.t. But honestly, she's taller. She's willowy, like a model.

"No offense," I tell her. "It was just an observation."

"None taken," she lies. I know it's a lie by the way her cheeks are still stained pink. In fact, the flush has spread down to her chest.

I'm saved by the bells on the door, though, as Pax returns, tossing Mila's keys to her.

"All fixed," he tells her. "Good thing I have an extra key. You're good to go, pregnant brain."

She shakes her head, but thanks him. "There is one more thing before you go," she mentions. "Could you move some boxes for me in the back? Supplies came this morning."

Pax stares at her in surprise. "Good lord. Have all of my lectures finally paid off? Thank you for not trying to move them yourself, for once."

Mila smiles gently, but as they walk away she turns and mouths Overprotective as she points to Pax's back. Madison grins.

"He is overprotective," she tells me as the other two disappear into a back room. "But it's sweet. I never thought Pax had it in him when I first met him. He's like a different person. He had sort of a s.h.i.tty childhood, but he's going to be a great dad. Speaking of him, though, I didn't realize that you were friends."

"We ran into each other at the gym this morning. And then we had a little run-in with Jared over lunch. Pax had my back again, which I appreciate. He's a stand-up guy," I answer. "I should've asked him if he served. He seems like that kind of guy."

Madison practically chokes. "Served? As in the military? Um, no. Pax used to be kind of messed up. The military wasn't something that would have appealed to him."

I eye her. "Messed up?"

Madison stares at me, her blue eyes very dark and instantly troubled.

"Yeah. When he was seven, his mom was killed in front of him. It messed him up pretty bad. For years he couldn't even remember exactly what happened. That's how bad it was. I thought he was beyond saving, but Mila didn't give up. She sees the good in people better than I do. And she was right. Pax came through it just fine. Eventually."

I stare at her in horror. His own mother was killed in front of him? I thought I'd seen some s.h.i.t.

"d.a.m.n," I answer. "That's terrible. That scar on his hand... was that part of it?"

Madison nods. "Yeah." She suddenly looks uncomfortable. "I'm sorry. This is his story to tell. I don't feel like I should talk about it."

I nod slowly. "That's fine. He might share it himself sometime over a beer."

Madison actually looks guilty as she curls into a red chair. "He might, and if he does, good for him. He got counseling last year when all of his memories came to light. But I'm a big believer that you can't talk things out too much. The more the better."

I cringe at that as I take the chair next to her, because I strongly disagree. I don't see the point in talking about s.h.i.t. People can't fix what happened to you.

"Let's change the subject," I suggest. "How's your boyfriend? Did he get his candy-a.s.s pants cleaned?"

She stares at me solemnly, but the corner of her lip is twitching again, making me wonder why. Is she glad I asked about that guy? Is this a game of cat and mouse?

"What makes you think Ethan is my boyfriend?" she counters, a question with a question. Cla.s.sic deflection.

Now it's my lip that's twitching, but not from amus.e.m.e.nt. I hate games.

"Well, the two of you seemed pretty cozy the other night. I felt bad about jogging right through the middle of your date," I finally answer.

She stares into my eyes and I see the blatant question there.

Do you want to play?

I stare back with an answer.

Yes.

Madison leans back in her chair, her eyes pointedly on my face, the air charged around us. The attraction between us is potent, yet we're sitting here talking about her date with another guy.

We're definitely playing now. Only right now I'm not sure who is the cat and who is the mouse.

"Oh, don't feel bad," she says smoothly. "Ethan and I are very old friends. It wasn't a bother at all. Until you stopped and pushed him around, that is."

I snort. "Your candy-a.s.s boyfriend started it. And I didn't lay one finger on him. If I wanted to push him around, you'd both know it."

Madison doesn't react to that, her face is a perfect expressionless mask.

"Were you dating Ethan when we met at the club?" I ask curiously. Madison doesn't seem like the type to cheat, but then what the h.e.l.l do I know? My training is in military tactics. I honestly don't know s.h.i.t about the inner workings of the female mind.

She flushes again, probably thinking back to that night and how she was so very willing to go home with me.

Thinking about it actually stirs my d.i.c.k to life and I shift in my seat, picturing the way her nipple tasted in my mouth and how her soft lips felt against mine. The simple thought makes me hard and I shift my hand so that it's covering my telltale crotch.

"Of course not," Madison answers quickly, her slender hand fluttering up to push her hair behind her ear. "I wouldn't do that."

"I didn't think so," I tell her. "I just thought I'd ask."

"Why? Looking out for Ethan's best interests?" she asks me sharply. I stare down at her, my eyes frozen on hers... unwavering.

"No... my own. You aren't really into Ethan. You're into me."

I drop my hand now, until it rests softly on the edge of her knee, my knuckles barely grazing her thigh.

I am sure that she wants me, although I'm not sure exactly why.

It was there the other night even when she was with Ethan. It's in her eyes, in the way she finds me wherever I'm at in the room. It's crackling in the air between us.

She wants me. And I want her.

f.u.c.king her would be like harnessing a raging summer storm. And some weird part of me wants to make up for melting down on her that first night, to prove that I'm not a weak-a.s.s p.u.s.s.y.

There is a pregnant pause before Madison bursts out laughing, not exactly the response I had been expecting.

"You're pretty sure of yourself, aren't you?" she answers.

"Always." I dismiss her words. "But you know it's true. You're into me and you have been since you met me. We'd be able to get someplace if you'd just admit it."

"And what place, exactly, are we trying to get to?" She laughs again, but there is something in her eyes that tells me I'm right. Something about the way she turns her body toward me, in the way her hands can't be still when she's talking to me. She's on edge around me.

Yet she still leaves my hand on her thigh. The heat from her radiates into my palm and I itch to move it upward.

But I don't. I leave it still as I stare into her eyes.

I want her to ask me for it. Eventually she will say my name and ask me to f.u.c.k her.

It's all part of the game.

She grows serious now, turning to face me head on in her seat.

"What I will admit is that ever since that first night, I've been curious about something."

"Oh?" I raise an eyebrow, ignoring my trepidation, ignoring the way my heart starts to pound. This is it. I'm going to see what she knows. What she saw. And from the unsettled look on her face, it wasn't good.