Give And Take: Taken By Storm Part 1

Give and Take.

Taken by Storm.

Maine, Kelli.

Dedicated to The One.

Acknowledgments.

Introducing MJ and Maddie into Merrick and Rachael's lives and love story was incredibly fun for me, but no easy task. From front to back cover and everything in between, the support, encouragement and combined literary brain power of Emmanuelle Morgen, Lauren Plude and Amy Pierpont was invaluable in bringing Taken by Storm together. Jessica Bromberg started introducing Taken by Storm to readers before the story was even finished, and the Grand Central Forever art department went beyond my wildest expectations.

I'm not sure where I'd be today in my writing career if it weren't for a group of exceptional women who I've had the good fortune of talking and sharing my work with daily for the past five years. Mich.e.l.le Valentine, Emily Snow and Katie Ashley, let's face it-you guys are family, and Kristen Proby, our newest cousin, you make every day brighter with your kindness and humor. Ava Black, you're an inspiration. From maps of islands to family trees, you always take on my projects-and you're next!

Melanie Kramer Santiago, Jennifer Wood, Chanelle Gray, and all the Litb.i.t.c.hes, you're a force of raw talent to be reckoned with. I look forward to many more celebrations and triumphs with you in years to come.

Maureen Mayer has been supportive of Taken and Rachael and Merrick from the beginning. Thank you for suggesting the name Nadia. It's perfect! Scott Mosley, I'm glad we were introduced, mate! You look handsome on the cover. Neda Amini, Maryse Black, Cris Soriaga Hadarly, Holly Malgieri, Kim Box Person and all the book bloggers who are too many to name, you're more than exceptionally giving of your time, you're friends to authors and I'm so glad I got to know you.

I would be amiss to not mention one person who was stuck listening to me drone on and on about writing every weekday for years. Many of my author friends know him as Co-worker Dan. Dan listening to me through the best and worst of times and being there to bounce plot ideas off of has meant the world to me.

Over the past five years, my kids have grown to know that Mom doesn't leave her laptop for long. For them and my husband, whose patience is constantly tested being married to me, I strive to be the best author I can be so not one minute of the time I spend away from them is wasted.

Thank you to you all. I appreciate you!.

One.

The soles of MJ's boots echoing off the concrete driveway sounded like drum beats in his head. A raging, metal death band soundtrack to his s.h.i.t life. He reached his car-a black '68 Camaro convertible bought with blood money from his grandfather-and tossed his duffel bag in the backseat.

"Don't tell me you're running away again."

Her voice sparked chills up his back. MJ turned and looked, but could only see a cloud of cigarette smoke lingering under the garage light. "Stay out of my business," he said into the darkness.

Her deep, sultry chuckle sank inside his ears and made him close his eyes. That laugh. So many nights... that laugh in the dark, under the sheets. G.o.d, how he'd ached for her when she left.

"I thought you quit smoking," he said, despite himself. Why could he never walk away from her?

Maddie slipped around the corner from the side of the garage and leaned against the door. He could just make out the faint red shine of her lips. Her dark hair loose around her shoulders. The predatory gleam in her eye. "Old habits die hard."

MJ let out a sharp laugh. "Not all of them." He opened the car door and got behind the wheel. There was no way he'd stay and get lured into her bed again. No way he'd go through that kind of torture when she took off on him.

Never again.

Maddie had been his addiction, his drug, and he intended to stay clean. Clean, but not sober. The only place he wanted to be was at the bottom of a bottle of Jack Daniel's.

He fumbled with his keys, giving her one too many seconds to cross the driveway and reach his car. "The first time you ran away," she said, laying her hands on top of his car door, "you got as far as Coach's house. That time it was my fault because I spent two weeks of our summer at sleep-away camp and abandoned you here alone. Is it my fault this time too?"

Jesus, she was wearing that perfume-the one that smelled like vanilla and spice.

He remembered that summer. Two whole weeks without Maddie. She was the only bright spot in his life back then. His best friend, before she became even more.

His grandfather, Enzo Rocha, The Puppet Master, had kept MJ under his care and his thumb since he was born. MJ had been shipped from nanny to private boarding school, then another boarding school and another when he got kicked out for fighting, but he was never wanted under this roof-his grandfather's roof-this f.u.c.king mansion of a house where his grandfather would never even have had to see his face if he didn't want to. MJ's stays had been limited to short visits during summer and winter breaks.

And Maddie had always been there. The house manager's daughter. Four years older and wiser. Four years more experienced-a college girl when he was in high school. It was Maddie who had taken his virginity and his heart. It was Maddie who had destroyed his trust and ruined him for any other girl.

MJ's eyes roamed her face and down her body. The body that used to belong to him. His palms tingled with flesh memories of holding her b.r.e.a.s.t.s in his hands. The image of her naked was seared into his mind like it had been branded there. The way he made her sigh. The way he made her moan and whimper his name. His mouth watered, knowing exactly how she would taste, her lips, her skin, her... he had to stop himself. She wasn't his. She'd broken her promise. She'd left him.

"Where are you going?" Maddie asked him. "Can I come along?"

"My life is none of your business." MJ shot her a stony glare. "Why are you even here?" He threw up a hand to stop her from answering. "You know what? Never mind. I don't even care."

He shoved the key into the ignition and fired up the engine. When she didn't step back from the car, he glanced up at her to find her staring down at him. He tried to look away, but couldn't. She'd always had a way of seeing inside him to the pain and hurt. She could always make it go away, and d.a.m.n it, he needed her to. So he kept his eyes glued to hers like she was a f.u.c.king life-line until he felt something shift and crack inside him.

f.u.c.king Maddie.

"You're not doing this to me again." He put the car in reverse knowing, it was too late, his words were a lie.

Maddie slowly strolled into the backyard. She hated hurting MJ. The hurt in his eyes, mixed with anger and something close to loathing... it was more than she could bear.

She wrapped her arms around her stomach and took a few deep breaths to calm her nerves. She should've found somewhere else to go.

Maddie laughed silently to herself. She'd asked MJ if he was running away, but she was the one doing the running. She fingered the diamond ring under her shirt hanging on the chain around her neck and felt the familiar sting of anxiety shoot up from her stomach to her throat. Talan had been so understanding when she told him she needed time to think. She wasn't sure she deserved it.

The night he gave her the ring, the city skyline in the sunset took Maddie's breath away. Across the table from her, Talan's hazel eyes didn't leave her face. His expression held so much love and sincerity. She had a feeling she knew what the special night was about, why he brought her to Coach Insignia all the way up on the seventy-second floor of the Renaissance Center. A romantic, sunset dinner at the most expensive restaurant in town could only mean one thing.

They'd finished their dinners, and Maddie's dessert sat half-eaten on the plate in front of her. She couldn't eat one more bite.

She knew it was now or never.

Then the waiter approached their table with a bottle of chilled champagne and two flutes.

Maddie swallowed. Hard. Was this really happening?

She wasn't ready to be married. She wasn't ready to be with Talan for the rest of her life. Was she?

Purposely avoiding looking at Talan, Maddie watched the waiter walk away.

"Maddie?" Talan said.

She turned to him. He balanced a black ring box in the palm of his hand. She held her breath and studied his warm face, a sprinkle of freckles across his nose, amber flecks in his eyes, auburn hair to match the sunset outside the windows.

Talan was everything a woman wanted.

He was everything Maddie should want.

So, why was she so afraid?

He opened the box. A beautiful, platinum diamond ring sat on the cushion. "Will you do me the honor of being my wife?"

It felt like a porcupine crawled through her stomach. Yes. No. Her mind whirled. "I-I want to say yes, but I need some time to think."

Talan sat the ring box on the table and nodded, discouraged. "You don't want to be with me?"

"No! I do want to be with you." Maddie reached across and took his hand. "We haven't even been together a year yet. What's the rush?"

Talan frowned and rubbed his forehead. "No rush. It just felt like the right time."

Maddie's heart sank. How could she do this to him? She loved Talan and it wasn't like she'd never thought of marrying him over the last few months. They were clearly heading in that direction.

"This was a total surprise," she said. "I just need to think about it, that's all. Okay?"

Talan took a deep breath. "Maddie, maybe we need to take a break. Keep the ring and think about it." He opened her hand and sat the ring box on her palm.

It was heavier than she'd imagined it would be. "A break?"

She could tell he was disappointed and maybe even a little angry, but he wanted to break up?

"I love you, Maddie. Whatever you decide, it won't change that. But, I can't make you want to marry me. Take some time away from me to figure out how you feel. Do whatever you need to do to make your decision. When you're ready to be with me or let me go, tell me."

It had only been a couple days. The emotions the memory spurred in Maddie were still so strong, they knocked the breath out of her. She had no idea how to make this decision.

Maddie had wandered inside her father's apartment over the garage while reliving the night Talan proposed. Now, she paced the floor in her dad's living room. He should've been home from the big house by now. It wasn't that she was worried. She knew where he was, but she wanted him here. He was too old to be staying out so late. She wished he didn't need this job. The last person she wanted him working for was Enzo Rocha, the Old Man, as she and MJ liked to call him. But her dad had come to think of the Old Man as a good friend over the years he'd worked for him. She just hoped her dad hadn't mentioned the fact that she was back.

The Old Man had run her off a year and a half ago, but this time it was different. She was here for a good reason. A reason that had nothing to do with MJ.

Maddie sat on the end of the couch and dug her chain out from under her shirt. Her ring really was beautiful, a full carat emerald cut diamond set in a platinum band. It sparkled and shot rainbows up onto the ceiling.

She knew Talan would be at home, sitting up in bed with his electronic tablet wearing his black-framed gla.s.ses, no shirt and pajama pants. He'd have ESPN on the TV, but he wouldn't be paying any attention to it.

Contentment settled over her thinking about how warm it would be snuggled next to him. How he'd still smell faintly of cologne and play with her hair.

She'd been so lucky to meet Talan. After graduating from Michigan State and coming home to Sandy Springs for what she thought was forever, only to be run off by Enzo Roach, she was devastated when she moved back to East Lansing. She and Talan hadn't started dating right away. She told him about MJ, about how she'd had to break up with him, although she didn't dare tell Talan-or anyone-why she left Sandy Springs.

They became great friends first, then slowly, their relationship developed into more. He was perfect. Loving and loyal, caring, hard-working. She never had to worry about the ground shifting under her feet with him. He was stable and their relationship was what good marriages were based on.

Maddie curled up on the couch with her head on the armrest. She even liked Talan's family, and from what she knew from her married friends, that never happened.

Clearly, there were more pros than cons when it came to her decision. Any sane woman would jump at the chance to marry a man like Talan. So, what was she doing wasting time back in Sandy Springs, Georgia, at the Rocha Estate?

Don't answer that question, she told herself. It was of the rhetorical variety that had plagued her mind on repeat for the past year and a half. Every question came down to the same, one-word, one-name answer.

MJ.

He hit the door of the Third Base Lounge with both hands, making it bounce back off the wall as he stepped inside. His first priority was a drink or five, then he'd move on to a distraction. Glancing around, he didn't see the female distraction he'd been getting around to knowing better. Carnally better. Too bad. Tonight would've been a night for her to remember.

He was glad Paul was behind the bar tonight and not the new guy Coach had hired who tried to card MJ two nights ago. He settled in on a bar stool and ordered a double of Jack. This was home and Coach Harting, the owner, was as close to a father as he'd ever had. MJ had grown up eating peanuts and watching cartoons with Maddie in the bar's back office while Coach balanced his books.

Coach Harting had coached every summer Little League team MJ had ever been on and sponsored them with Third Base Lounge jerseys. He was the reason MJ made it onto the GSU baseball team at all after Maddie left.

Those first few months after she'd left, MJ had been a mess. He got drunk and pa.s.sed out every night, dropped most of his cla.s.ses his first semester, and started fighting with anyone who wouldn't back down. Coach wouldn't give up on him though, said MJ had too much talent to let a woman destroy his dreams. Coach met with the GSU baseball coach and personally vouched for MJ, said he'd kick MJ's a.s.s if he didn't shape up. Somehow, the GSU coach believed him and let him on the team.

Now Coach owed MJ an a.s.s whooping.

MJ took the shot gla.s.s from the bartender. "Keep these coming." He tossed the fiery whiskey down his throat and slammed the gla.s.s down onto the bar.

"Bad day?" Paul asked, whisking the empty away and replacing it with another.

MJ rolled his head back and forth from shoulder to shoulder. The Jack warmed his stomach and dulled his senses. "You wouldn't believe the day I've had."

Paul braced his hands against the bar. "A chick?"

MJ took a deep sip of his double shot, nodding. "Kicked me square in the b.a.l.l.s." He swallowed and winced. No need to mention his daddy issues. That situation was too f.u.c.ked up to even try to explain.

Paul dropped his hands. "Sorry, man."

"Yeah. Whatever. We haven't been together for over a year anyway."

Paul leaned in, resting his forearms on the bar. "Wait. You mean Maddie? Is she back?"

MJ exhaled sharply through his nose and downed the rest of his shot.

That was all the answer Paul needed. He gave MJ a friendly punch to the arm and shook his head before striding to the other end of the bar where he was being flagged down for a beer.

Someone ran into MJ from behind, jolting him sideways on his stool. Instantly enraged, he swung his fist around, connecting with the back of the guy's head. It was one of the idiots playing pool. "Watch yourself."

The guy grabbed the front of MJ's shirt and threw him back into his stool where he lost his balance and fell off onto his a.s.s on the floor. "Want to try that again?"

Drunk and stumbling, it took a second for MJ to get onto his feet and start swinging. The dull, dark pounding in his head was a tribal drum beat spurring his anger. The man became every guy he'd ever imagined Maddie with in Michigan and MJ threw every punch harder than the last, determined to take back what was his. He wouldn't be denied any longer. MJ slammed his fist into the side of the man's head, making him shuffle sideways against the bar. MJ rushed forward, eager to finish this a.s.shole.

With another punch to the man's gut, the man became MJ's father, and a surge of animosity crackled under MJ's skin. He would be heard. Seen. Acknowledged. His fists jabbed hard and fast against the man's face and abdomen. The cracks of fist against skin urged MJ on again and again. Thanks to his trusty friend, Jack Daniel's, he didn't even feel the hits he took.

A pair of hands grabbed him from behind, and as he was being dragged backward, he saw Paul had a hand on the other guy's chest pushing him back.

"You've got way to much p.i.s.s and vinegar in you, Son," Coach said from behind him. "Let's get you back to the office and sobered up."

Looking up into Coach's face, etched with disappointment, MJ wished he'd make good on his promise and kick his a.s.s. He deserved it.