Chapter Five
Maddie climbed the steps to her apartment Sunday afternoon, her body weary but mind a whirlwind of thoughts. Today was Cole’s first day off from kitchen duty since he’d started, and she’d really looked forward to having the kitchen all to herself again. It’d always been her safe haven, a fortress where she could keep her mind busy and heart safe from harm. Working alongside scrumptious Cole, though, had rattled her more than she cared to admit. So a day with the space all to herself had sounded like a wonderful thing.
Until she walked into the inn’s silent kitchen this morning, that is. She’d sauntered in, put her things away, and pulled on a fresh apron just like every other morning. And yet something felt off. It wasn’t until Cole popped his head through the swinging doors “just to say hi” on his way to play guitar for the inn’s Sunday service that she identified what that “off” was:
It was him.
Or, rather, today’s lack thereof.
Which was stupid, of course. He’d never even worked the breakfast or lunch shifts with her. In fact, most days he didn’t stroll in until around three forty-five. But for some unknown reason, the idea of him not being there this evening had left her feeling a bit blue.
“Ridiculous.”
She shoved the key into her apartment’s doorknob, jiggled it a bit to coax the lock to cooperate, then twisted hard left and shouldered the creaky beast open. There was no way she was going to let herself go and get attached to Cole Granville, not now and not ever. He was too smooth, too handsome, and had a background she knew next to nothing about.
But darn it if his smile today hadn’t triggered an unprompted smile of her own.
Maddie rubbed her stinging shoulder as she crossed the room, and made a note to hit her bum of a landlord up again about oiling the lock and hinges. She was fresh out of WD-40, and it was his job to fix things, anyway, not hers. With a shake of her head, she tossed her purse and keys down, and sank onto the barstool before her fishbowl.
“Hey, Fido.”
Her goldfish perked up, his mouth moving in double-time as he bonked the side of the bowl nearest his container of fish food.
“Yeah, I know, buddy, you’re hungry. You’re always hungry.” She chuckled. “Goofball fish.”
Maddie humored him with a few small flakes, then leaned onto the countertop, propping her head in one hand to watch him. So maybe a goldfish hadn’t been the pet she’d really wanted. An apartment the size of a postage stamp over a used bookstore in downtown Mount Pleasant instead of owning a place of her own—one with a modern kitchen, a reliable stove, and its own washer and dryer—hadn’t been in her original plans, either. But if giving up what she really wanted meant running her own kitchen at a place she loved to work, well, these were small prices to pay. After all, she had heat in the winter and window-unit air conditioning in the summer—what more did she really need?
Not that extra two hundred dollars she’d given to Cole, apparently. She was still trying to come to terms with how readily she’d handed the money she’d been paid Thursday afternoon for her latest catering side job at the Women’s Club over to him. Like it’d been burning a hole in her pocket—which, of course, it wasn’t. With the items she needed to replace around her apartment, she’d had no intention of paying him the advance. But the way he’d looked at her upon realizing the money wasn’t coming… Maddie shook her head to clear that kicked puppy look from her mind. Whatever his mysterious past held, that look of defeat Thursday night whispered it probably hadn’t been nearly as cozy as hers.
“So I helped the guy out,” she said to Fido. “Is that so wrong?”
Fido bumped into the side of the bowl a few times.
“No, he’s not going to be my new pet project. I learned from the last one, I told you that.”
An unwanted memory surfaced, of her college days and time spent studying in her apartment. Under the covers. With Harrison Essex.
Harrison, who was by far the cutest guy in her intermediate pastries class.
Harrison, who had cozied up to her. Made her believe he cared about her, was attracted to her.
Harrison, who had sweet-talked her into his bed…then dropped her like a hotcake the minute their semester ended and he’d passed with flying colors.
“Oh, come on, Madelyn. You know you’re not really my type.” His ice blue eyes had scanned her up and down. “Or my preferred size.”
God, that’d hurt.
Heck, it’d more than hurt—it darned near killed her. She’d grown up with very little in the way of self-confidence. So to be tossed aside by her first real boyfriend, used and discarded without care? Those were dark days she never wanted to experience again. Ever.
Too bad her current boss was a white-haired cupid who’d run out of grandsons to play matchmaker with. Her hints to Maddie about every single guy between here and Lake Michigan had been getting less disguised by the day. Thus the lie. Which meant if she didn’t secure a date to Miles and Stephanie’s darned gala soon, things were sure to get dicey.
“No way am I going to sit back and let that happen.”
Her gaze slid to the front window. Across the street stood the Quarter Clean-It, where Cute Guy would likely visit sometime today. The guy went through gym clothes faster than anyone she knew, not that Maddie was complaining—it meant he did laundry two or three times a week.
Yeah, she’d been counting. Yes, she took small loads of her own over there on the off chance one of these days she’d catch his eye and actually strike up a decent conversation. Maybe now that Cole was onboard with coaching her in the wild world of dating, she could cut to the chase and make fewer trips.
Maddie stood and crossed the room, staying back from the window so people on the sidewalk below wouldn’t see her. Sure enough, in the near corner was Cute Guy, sitting in his usual chair, back to the rest of the place, one ankle resting atop his opposite knee and a magazine she’d bet money on was of the body builder variety in his hands. He was everything she wasn’t—fit, tall, slender—and yet she felt inexplicably drawn to him. Like he was her holy grail or something. Being around him scrambled her thoughts and triggered gratuitous daydreams that usually managed to push work off her mind.
Which meant if anyone could clear her head of Cole Granville and the insane idea that she was becoming at all attached to him, Cute Guy could do it.
A knock sounded at her door, breaking her concentration. Maddie frowned. She wasn’t expecting anyone today.
The landlord! She snapped her fingers and headed for the door.
“You finally come to fix these hinges?” she called, struggling to get the blasted thing open. With a grunt and strong tug, she loosed it from its place of rest. The door flung open, leaving a clear view of the visitor on her doorstep. A visitor who was definitely not her landlord.
Yes, they were both male. But the guy standing before her now wore a contagious grin, a black fitted T-shirt beneath a denim jacket, and frayed jeans that hung oh-so-nicely on a pair of slender hips. A far cry from her middle-aged, droopy pantsed, combover-haired landlord.
“Nope.” Cole shifted his laundry basket higher on one hip. “I came over to help fix you up.”
“What, right now?”
“No time like the present. Besides, that beefcake you told me about is doing his laundry. Don’t want to miss our window of opportunity.”
“Window of opportunity?” Oh man, what had she gotten herself into? It was one thing, throwing smiles at Cute Guy from across the room, but to actually talk to him with Cole there watching? What would she say? What should she wear?
What if she threw up in mid-sentence?
“We don’t have all day, Madds. Just grab a basket with a few things in there and let’s go.”
“But I’m not ready! I…I…” She raised both hands to her burning cheeks. “What if he doesn’t like what’s in my basket?”
“He’s a guy. Guys don’t think like that. They like pretty faces and…well, we’ll get to the rest eventually. Today, the goal is to get his attention. A little smiling, maybe exchange names. Easy peasy. Now go get a basket.”
“Easy peasy.” She stormed to retrieve her laundry basket and made sure there wasn’t anything too damning inside before returning to Cole. “What if it goes further than that? What if he starts talking to me? Asking questions?”
“Then you talk to him, answer his questions, just like we’re doing now. You’re not on the verge of a nervous breakdown talking to me, are you?”
Maddie swallowed hard. “No. But—”
“No buts. Just…do what comes naturally.”
Oh, sure, do what comes naturally. Piece of cake…for someone like him. She ran a hand over her hair. “What if it doesn’t work? What if he doesn’t even notice me?”
“Trust me, he will. But on the off chance he doesn’t, drop something.”
“Drop something?”
Cole grinned, pretended to drop something, then slowly reached for the imaginary item, wiggling his butt as he went.
“Oh, you are terrible, Cole Granville.”
“No, I’m male.” He stepped around her to coax the door shut. “So follow my lead, and you’ll have this date for your dance in no time.”
She pictured Cute Guy, all six foot something and ripped. Her, bend over in front of him? The guy would probably volunteer to enroll her at his gym, not suggest they do dinner and a movie.
Maddie looked to the staircase, wondering how badly it would hurt if she accidentally on purpose missed the first step and took a tumble. Because with as persistent as Cole was being, it’d take a trip to the ER to get her out of this excursion. Who knew, maybe a good old-fashioned concussion wouldn’t be so bad?
…
Cole picked a washer across the nearly empty laundromat from where Maddie’s crush sat and began fishing a handful of quarters from his pocket. Silly girl had been practically hyperventilating by the time they reached Quarter Clean-It’s front door. Why, he had no idea. Maddie was a lioness in the kitchen—why should the laundromat be any different?
Sure, she wasn’t exactly dressed to the nines right now in jeans and a baggy black shirt, but anyone with a pulse would see the curves she hadn’t managed to hide today and know there were more where those came from. And her hair was pulled up into one of those cute, messy buns, leaving little pieces to fall and curl around her neck and face. Between that and her flawless complexion, Muscles would be an idiot not to at least give her the time of day.
Though, if she didn’t speak up soon, maybe he wouldn’t.
A quick glance proved she hadn’t bolted for the door. Hadn’t done anything yet, actually. Instead, she stood frozen a few machines away from her target, Muscles, body rigid and basket in a death grip. Her gaze slid to Cole’s. He gave her a nod and motioned for her to go on, then leaned a hip on his own machine and crossed his arms. Message received, she turned back to the far corner and slinked forward.
Watching her draw close to the guy, Cole couldn’t help but wonder what it was about Muscles that had Maddie gunning for him in the first place. Sure, he was clean cut and in shape, and broad—the guy’s chest had to have been twice as wide as Cole’s—but there had to be something else. Something that’d attracted her to him. Surely someone like her, a take-charge kind of woman, would never go for a guy on looks alone. She’d need someone with a spine, someone to spar with who wouldn’t easily back down.
Maybe, he wondered, as Maddie set her basket atop the machine next to her target’s and Muscles didn’t look up from his magazine, she’d set her sights on that guy because he was a challenge. Now that was more likely. It also potentially made his own promised coaching job a bit more difficult.
She glanced toward Muscles and offered the guy a shy smile.
It was lost on him, his attention yet focused on that magazine.
Maddie slid a hand into her front pants pocket, the move more provocative than likely intended. Cole swallowed hard and looked momentarily back to Muscles, who was still oblivious to the show going on before him. Cole fought the urge to go over and smack him upside the head.
She began plunking coins into the machine.
Muscles still didn’t look up.
The water kicked on, and Maddie added detergent.
Still nothing.
She planted a hand on her hip.
You’ve got to do something else, something to really get his attention.
As if she’d heard his thoughts, Maddie began bending over very slowly, reaching for her basket. A coin slipped loose from her hand, and hit the floor with a metallic ping.
“Oops.”
Muscles looked up. Finally.
“Drop something?”
Cole rolled his eyes. Yep, she’d picked a brilliant one. Though, who was he to judge?
Maddie flashed Muscles an embarrassed smile. “Yeah, just a quarter. Guess I’ve got butter fingers today.”
He nodded. “Need some help?”
“Help?” Her smile slipped a little. “Oh, uh, no. I can get it.”
Cole watched her drop to her knees and reach under the machine in search of her lost coin. With a silent groan he turned away, trying to prevent the image from burning into his memory. Darn it, why’d he have to go and start working for a woman with killer curves like that? He’d always been a sucker for curvy women. Back home, they’d been all about him, too. Though, seeing as he and his mama hadn’t stayed in any one place long enough to grow roots, Cole’s experiences with girls his age were quick and fleeting. Probably a good thing—it kept them away from the trouble that followed him like a shadow.
It had, anyway, until Old Tom had come to Texas and rescued him this spring.
Cole drew in a deep breath, his gaze drifting to the laundromat’s picture window. Two blocks over stood the storefront that could help him build a future in this town, more so than helping a grandfather who didn’t truly require any help. But the guitar shop, that would be Cole’s own. His pride and joy, his contribution to society. A society that had yet to shun him, had yet to discover the truth about his past. He hoped like mad it would stay that way.
“Um, excuse me? Might need that help after all.”
He turned toward the sound of Maddie’s voice, more muffled than it’d been the last time she’d spoken, and was surprised to see her still down on all fours. Only now her face was red, and her sheepish look replaced with one far more…angry.
Muscles set his magazine down and sprang from his seat. Words were exchanged, and still she remained on the floor. He stood, grabbed two corners of the washer, and tried lifting. Judging by his red-faced grunting and scowl, it hadn’t budged. He repositioned his feet so that he had one on each side of her hips. Maddie hung her head, shaking it back and forth.
Oh no.
Cole hurried across the room to offer his assistance. Though, with as well as his first piece of advice had turned out, Maddie may well not accept any more. Heck, if she was half as mad as he sensed, she might well fire him the moment they step outside. Which he absolutely could not let happen if he wanted to keep his dream shop open longer than a month.
It’d been a dream too long in the making for him to stand back and let that happen.