Tangled Up in You

Chapter 15

Maddie sat on her sofa, Snowball curled up in her lap, and stared into the blank screen of her television. Her stomach ached and her chest was so tight it hurt to breathe. She was going to be sick. She thought about calling her friends and getting their advice, but she couldn’t. She was the strong, fearless one of the group, but at the moment she didn’t feel so strong or fearless. Far from it.

For the first time in a very long time, Maddie Jones was afraid. There was no denying it. She couldn’t call it apprehension and move on. It was too real. Too deep, and too terrifying. Worse than sitting across from a serial killer.

She’d always assumed that falling in love would be like getting slammed into a brick wall. That you’d just be going along as usual and you’d get knocked on your ass and think,

Gee, I guess I’m in love. But it hadn’t happened that way. It had just kind of snuck up on her before she’d realized it. It had happened one smile and one touch at a time. One look. One kiss. One pink cat collar. One pinch to the heart and one breathless anticipation after another until she was in so deep there was no denying it. No turning back before it was too late. No more lying about what she felt.

Maddie slid her hand down Snowball’s small back and didn’t care that the cat’s fur clung to her black shirt and the lap of her skirt. She’d always thought that she couldn’t lie to herself about anything. Apparently she’d gotten better at it.

She’d fallen in love with Mick Hennessy and the minute he found out who she really was, she would lose him. And she didn’t have a clue what she was going to do about it.

Her doorbell rang and she looked at the clock sitting on a shelf above the television. It was eight-thirty. Mick was at work and she didn’t expect to see him until sometime around one.

She set Snowball on the floor and moved to the door. The kitten chased after her and she scooped her up rather than step on her. She looked through the peephole and got that little heated flush she now recognized. Evidently Mick had skipped work.

He stood on her porch wearing jeans and his Mort’s polo. She opened the door and stared at him standing there with the first shadows of night bathing him in a light gray and making his eyes a vibrant blue. As he stared at her across the short distance, elation and despair collided in her heart and twisted her stomach.

“I needed to see you,” he said and stepped across the threshold. He wrapped one arm around Maddie’s waist and placed his free hand on the back of her head. His mouth swooped down and he kissed her. A long drugging kiss that made her want to attach herself to him and never let go.

He pulled back and looked into her face. “I was at work pulling beer and listening to the same old stories, and all I could think about was you and the night we had sex on the bar. I can’t get you out of my head. Put your cat down, Maddie.”

She bent down to set Snowball on the floor and he shut the door behind him. “I didn’t want to be there. I wanted to be here.”

She straightened and looked into his face. She’d never felt love like this in her life. Not really, not the stomach-lifting and skin-tingling kind of love. Not the kind that made her want to hold his hand forever. To leech herself into his body so she didn’t know where he stopped and she began. “I’m glad you came back.” But she had to tell him she was Maddie Jones. Now.

He pushed her hair behind her ear. “I can breathe here with you.”

At least one of them could. She rubbed her cheek into his hand, and before she told him who she was, before she lost him forever, she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him one last time. She poured her heart and soul into it, her ache and joy, showing him without words what she felt inside. She kissed his mouth and jaw and the side of his throat. She ran her hands over him, touching and memorizing the feel of him beneath her hands.

Mick slid his warm palms to her behind and then the backs of her thighs. He lifted until she wrapped her legs around his waist. A deep groan vibrated through his chest as he returned her hungry kisses, and he carried her into the bedroom.

She would tell him. She would. In a minute. Her legs slid from his waist and he pulled her shirt over her head. She just wanted a few more minutes, but the more she poured her heart in each kiss, the more he wanted from her. The more he sucked the breath from her lungs and made her light-headed. He slid his hands all over her,

her shoulders and arms, her back and behind, until she was left wearing nothing but her bra, unhooked and open in the back.

Mick took a step back from the kiss and gasped. He looked at her through eyes so far gone, there was no thought to stopping him when he slowly pulled her bra straps and the blue satin cups slid down the slopes of her breasts, shimmered across her nipples, then fell down her arms to the floor.

“We’ve only known each other for a short time.” He lightly brushed the tips of his fingers across the tips of her breasts and her breathing became shallow. “Why does it feel longer?” He moved behind her and Maddie looked down at his big hands on her breasts, touching her, squeezing her puckered nipples. Her back arched and she raised her arms. Her hands cupped the sides of his face as she brought his mouth down to hers. She gave him a hot, greedy kiss as she tilted her hips and pressed her naked behind into his erection. He groaned deep within his chest as he played with her breasts. He still wore his jeans and his shirt, and the feeling of worn denim and soft cotton against her skin was erotic as hell. His mouth left hers and trailed hot little kisses down the side of her throat, and he slid one hand down her stomach. He placed one of his feet between hers, then he slipped his hand between her parted thighs, and he touched her. Her insides melted, pooling deep and low in her pelvis, and she let herself savor the touch of the only man she’d ever loved. She’d always wondered if there was a difference between sex and making love. And now she knew. Sex started with physical desire. Making love started in a person’s heart.

She didn’t know what would happen after this, after she told him who she was, but perhaps it wouldn’t matter. She turned and looked up at him as her hands drifted down his stomach to the end of his polo shirt. She pulled the stretchy cotton from the waistband of his pants and Mick raised his arms. She yanked it over his head and tossed it aside. Maddie lowered her gaze from his passion-filled eyes to his strong chest. The tips of her breasts touched him a few inches below his flat brown nipples. A trail of fine hair ran down his chest, between her cleavage, to his waistband.

His voice was husky with lust when he said, “Why did I ever think I would get enough of you?”

Maddie pulled at his button fly and slipped her hands inside his jeans and cupped him through his boxer briefs. “I’ll never get enough of you, Mick. Whatever happens, I’ll always want you.”

She closed her eyes and kissed the side of his throat. “Always,” she whispered.

His breath whooshed from his lungs as she slipped her hand inside his underwear and wrapped her palm around his hot shaft. He grabbed his wallet out of his pants and tossed it on the bed.

“I’ll never get enough of the way you feel in my hand,” she whispered. “Hard and smooth at the same time. I will never forget what it feels like to touch you like this.”

“Who says you have to forget?” He walked her to the side of the bed and pushed her shoulders until she sat.

Who? He would. She laid down and watched him quickly undress until he stood completely naked in front of her, a tall, beautiful man who made her heart and soul ache. She raised a hand to him and pulled him on top of her. The voluptuous head of his hot penis touched between her legs. “I’ve loved being together,” she whispered as she sucked his earlobe and rubbed against his warm body. She delivered little nibbling bites to his neck and shoulder.

Mick pushed her onto her back. “We have a lot more time to be together.” He kissed her chin and throat. “A lot more.” He sucked her nipple into his warm mouth while his other hand slid down her stomach to touch her with his fingers. As she watched him kiss her breast, raw emotion pumped through her veins. This was Mick, the man who could make her feel beautiful and desired. The man she loved and would probably lose.

Mick raised his head and the cool night air brushed across her breasts where his mouth had left her wet and shining. He reached into his wallet and pulled out a condom, but Maddie took it from his hands and stretched the thin latex down the length of him. She could feel his pulse in her hand, strong and steady. She pushed him onto his back and straddled his hips. His lids lowered over his eyes and the breath left his body as he watched her lower herself and take him inside her.

“You look good up there,” he said, his voice low, rough. His hands grasped her waist. “Feel good too.” He slid his hands up her sides to her breasts.

Maddie rocked her pelvis as she raised a little and slid back down. The head of his penis stroked her inside and she moaned deep in her throat. Up and down she moved, tilting her hips as she rode him. Tingling heat flowed outward from where his body touched hers. “Mick. Oh, God.” He moved with her, matching her with powerful thrusts, until the sensations swamped her completely and her head fell back as a hot liquid orgasm washed through her, starting at her pelvis and spreading to her fingers and toes. “Mick. I love you,” she said as new emotions wrapped around her pounding heart, squeezing her chest in its fiery grasp.

Just as the climax ended, Mick wrapped an arm around her back and bottom, and turned with her so that she lay on the bed looking up at him. He was still buried deep inside her and she automatically wrapped her legs around his waist as she knew he liked. She brought his mouth down to her and gave him wet wild kisses as he withdrew and thrust deep inside her again. She clung to him as he drove into her over and over. His chest heaved and he placed his hands on the bed beside her face. With each stroke, he pushed her toward a second climax, and she cried out as her body milked him hard for a second time.

Mick’s eyes drifted shut, and his breath hissed between his teeth. “Holy shit,” he swore, then groaned his satisfaction. He dove into her one last time, then collapsed on top of her.

His weight pushed down on her, heavy and welcome. His face rested on the pillow next to hers and he kissed her shoulder.

“Maddie?” he asked, breathless.

“Yeah?” She slid her hands across his back.

He raised onto his elbows and looked into her face, his breathing still heavy. “I don’t know what was different this time, but that was the hottest sex I’ve ever had.”

She knew what was different. She loved him. Her face got hot and she shoved at his shoulders. She loved him and she’d told him so too.

He rolled off her and lay on his back.

“I need some water,” she said as she crawled off the bed and stood. Her ears were ringing from embarrassment and she moved to her closet and grabbed her robe.

“Where’s your cat?” he asked.

“Probably on my office chair.” She looked down at her shaking hands as she tied the terrycloth around her waist.

“If she attacks me, I’m getting her some G13.”

Maddie had no idea what he was talking about. “Okay,” she called from the closet.

“I have more condoms in my pants pocket,” he said, all chipper as he walked to the bathroom. “But you’re going to have to give me some time to get up to speed again.”

While Mick used the bathroom, Maddie walked to the kitchen. She opened the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of Diet Coke. She placed it against her burning cheeks and closed her eyes. Maybe he hadn’t heard her. He’d told her on the way to Redfish that sometimes he didn’t understand everything she said during sex. Perhaps she hadn’t spoken as clearly as she’d thought.

She unscrewed the cap and took a long drink. She hoped like hell it had been one of those times, which only took care of one problem. The bigger problem loomed ahead, black and devastating and unavoidable.

Mick walked from the bedroom and made his way into the kitchen. He wore his Levi’s low on his hips and his hair was tousled from her fingers. “Are you embarrassed about something?” he asked as he moved behind Maddie and wrapped his arms around her.

“Why?”

He took the bottle from her hands and raised it to his lips. “You practically ran out of the bedroom and your cheeks are red.” He took a long drink, then handed it back to her.

She looked down at her feet. “Why would I be embarrassed?”

“Because you shouted, ‘I love you,’ in the throes of passion.”

“Oh, God.” She covered the side of her face with her free hand.

He turned her, placed his fingers beneath her chin, and brought her gaze to his. “It’s okay, Maddie.”

“No, it’s not. I didn’t mean to fall in love with you.” She shook her head and insisted, “I don’t want to be in love with you.” Her chest felt raw and tears stung the backs of her eyes, and she didn’t think it was possible to be in any worse pain. “My life sucks.”

“Why?” He softly kissed her lips and said, “I’m in love with you too. I didn’t think I would ever feel for a woman what I feel for you. These past few days, I’ve been wondering how you felt.”

She took a few steps back and his hands fell to his sides. This should be the best, most euphoric time of her life. This wasn’t fair, but as she’d discovered as a five-year-old child, life was not fair. She opened her mouth and forced the truth past the horrible clog in her throat. “Madeline Dupree is my pen name.”

His brows rose up his forehead. “Madeline is not your real name?”

She nodded. “Madeline is my name. Dupree is not.”

He tilted his head to one side. “What is your name?”

“Maddie Jones.”

He looked at her, his eyes clear. He shrugged one bare shoulder and said, “Okay.”

She didn’t for one second believe he meant “okay” like he was okay with who she was. He wasn’t connecting the dots. She licked her dry lips. “My mother was Alice Jones.”

A slight frown creased his brow and then he jerked back like someone had shot him. His gaze moved across her face as if trying to see something he’d never noticed before. “Tell me you’re making a joke, Maddie.”

She shook her head. “It’s true. Alice Jones isn’t some face in a newspaper article that caught my attention. She was my mother.” She reached a hand toward him, but he took a step back and her hand fell to her side. She hadn’t thought she could be in more pain; she’d been wrong.

His eyes stared into hers. Gone was the man who’d just told her that he loved her. She’d seen Mick angry, but she’d never seen him so coldly furious. “Let me see if I’m getting this right. My father fucked your mother and I’ve been fucking you? Is that what you’re telling me?”

“I don’t see it that way.”

“There’s no other way to see it.” He turned on his heels and moved from the kitchen.

Maddie followed him through the living room and into her bedroom. “Mick—”

“Have you gotten some sort of sick pleasure out of all this?” he interrupted her as he picked up his shirt and shoved his arms through the sleeves. “When you came to town, was it your intention from the beginning to totally screw with my head? Is this some sort of twisted revenge for what my mother did to yours?”

She shook her head and refused to give in to the tears that threatened to fill her eyes. She would not cry in front of Mick. “I didn’t want to get involved with you. Ever. But you kept pushing. I wanted to tell you.”

“Bullshit.” He pulled the shirt over his head and down his chest. “If you’d wanted to tell me, you’d have found a way. You had no problem sharing every other detail of your life. I know you grew up fat and lost your virginity at twenty. I know you wear different scented lotion every day, and that you keep a vibrator named Carlos next to your bed.” He bent forward and picked up his socks and shoes. “For Christ’s sake, I even know you’re not a butt girl.” He pointed one of his shoes at her and continued, “And I’m supposed to believe that you couldn’t work the truth into any conversation at some point before tonight!”

“I know that it’s no consolation, but I never wanted to hurt you.”

“I’m not hurt.” He sat on the edge of the bed and shoved his feet into a pair of white socks. “I’m disgusted.”

She felt her anger rise up and she was amazed she could feel anything beyond the deep mortal pain in her chest. She reminded herself that he had a right to be furious. He had a right to know early on whom he was getting involved with instead of after the fact. “That’s harsh.”

“Baby, you don’t know harsh.” He glanced up at her, then looked down as he put on his black boots and tied the laces. “I spent an hour tonight trying to defend you to my sister. She tried to tell me not to get involved with you, but I was thinking with my cock.” He paused to let his gaze rake her up and down. “And now I have to go tell her about you. I have to tell her you’re the daughter of the waitress who ruined her life and watch her come apart.”

He might have more right to be angry than she did, but hearing him call her mother “the waitress” and worrying more about his sister than her scraped her raw emotions and pushed her over the top. “You. You. You. I am so sick of hearing about you and your sister. What about me?” She pointed to herself. “Your mother killed my mother. At the age of five, I moved in with a great-aunt who never wanted children. Who showed more love and affection for her cats than she ever did for me. Your mother did that to me. I’ve never been given so much as a second thought by you or your family. So I don’t want to hear about you and your poor sister.”

“If your mother hadn’t been sleeping around—”

“If your father hadn’t been sleeping around with about every woman in town and your mother hadn’t been a vindictive bitch with a healthy dose of psychosis, then we’d all be happy as clams, wouldn’t we? But your father was sleeping with my mother and your mother loaded a pistol and killed them both. That’s our reality. When I moved to Truly, I expected to hate you and your sister for what your family has done to me. You look so much like your father that I expected to loathe you on sight, but I didn’t. And as I got to know you, I realized that you are nothing like Loch.”

“I used to believe that until tonight. If you are anything in the sack like your mother, then I get why my dad was ready to walk out the door and leave us for her. You Jones women drop your clothes and the Hennessy men get stupid.”

“Wait!” Maddie interrupted him and held up one hand. “Your dad was going to leave? For my mother?” Her mother had been right about Loch.

“Yeah. I just found out. Guess you have something to put in your book.” He smiled, but it wasn’t pleasant. “I’m just like my dad, and you’re just like your mother.”

“I am nothing like my mother, and you are nothing like your father. When I look at you, I just see you. That’s how I fell in love with you.”

“It doesn’t matter what you see, because when I look at you, I don’t know who you are.” He stood. “You aren’t the woman I thought you were. When I look at you now, I feel sick that I fucked the waitress’s daughter.”

Maddie’s hands clenched into fists. “Her name was Alice and she was my mother.”

“I don’t really give a shit.”

“I know you don’t.” She stormed out of the room and into her office, only to return a few moments later with a file and photograph. “This was her.” She held up the old framed picture. “Look at her. She was twenty-four and beautiful and had her whole life ahead of her. She was flighty and immature and made horrible choices in her young life. Especially when it came to men.” She pulled the crime scene photo from the files. “But she didn’t deserve this.”

“Jesus.” Mick turned his head away.

Maddie dropped everything onto the dresser. “Your family did this to her and to me. The least you could do is say her goddamn name when you talk about her!”

Mick looked at her, his brows lowered over his beautiful eyes. “I’ve spent most of my life not talking or thinking about her. I’m going to spend the rest of it not thinking about you.” He reached for his wallet on her bed, then walked out of the room.

Above the sound of her beating heart, Maddie heard the front door slam and she flinched. That had gone worse than she’d imagined. She’d thought he’d be angry, but disgusted? That had hit like a punch to the stomach.

She walked to the front door and, through the peephole, watched his truck pull out of her driveway. She locked the deadbolt and leaned her back against the solid door. The tears she’d refused to shed filled her eyes. A sound she almost didn’t recognize as coming from her broke past the emotion in her chest. Like a puppet whose strings had been cut, she slid down until her butt hit the floor.

“Meow.”

Snowball climbed into her lap and scaled the front of her robe. Her tiny pink tongue licked the tears from Maddie’s numb cheek.

How was it possible to hurt so much but feel absolutely hollow inside?