Choosing Happy (Madison Square #2) (8 page)

“Come on, don’t go,” I said with a sympathetic smile. “Your food is here. The damage is done. Stay.”

She watched me for a moment before scooting her chair back under the table.

I picked up my fork, my mouth watering as the scent of Gran’s famous pot roast and garlic mashed potatoes flooded my nose.

She took a deep breath and took a bite of her food, a sigh of pure satisfaction escaping her lips as she relaxed into her seat. Fuck me, that sound. I could spend the rest of my life searching for more ways to get her to make that sound again. If her laugh had turned me on, that fucking sigh made things almost painful.

She looked up from her plate. “What?”

I shook my head. “I’ve just never been so turned on by watching someone eat before.”

She broke off a piece of bread from her plate and tossed it at me. I watched as it bounced off my chest.

I laughed, she laughed, and it seemed that the awkwardness was beginning to fade. I was overwhelmed by how much I wanted her. Not just for sex—don’t get me wrong, my respect for Gran was the only thing keeping me from clearing the table with a sweep of my arm and fucking her right here on this table—but there was something about her. I wanted to protect her, make her laugh, make her smile, help her to find her own happiness.

“Isn’t this a French restaurant?” she asked, bringing me back to the moment.

“It is,” I said, digging into my meal.

“Then what’s with the pot roast?”

“You seem to be enjoying it.”

“It’s amazing, but it seems a little strange for a French restaurant to serve pot roast.”

“True,” I said, taking a sip of wine. “Gran’s parents were French. They came over from Nice in the thirties. The menu is full of recipes passed down in my family for generations. Gran’s mother passed her knowledge down to Gran, who’s now passing it down to Em.”

“Did she do the same with your mom?”

My chest ached. I didn’t like to talk about mom. “She did.” I nodded. “For a while.”

She looked up at me with a confused frown. I sighed. If I wanted her to open up to me, I would have to trust her enough to open up to her. “She was killed in a car accident when I was a kid.”

“Oh Sean,” she said. “I’m so sorry.”

“It was a long time ago.” I gave her a sad smile and we sat in silence, awkwardly pushing our food around on our plates.

After a moment, she looked up at me with that adorable confused frown again. “That still doesn’t explain the pot roast.”

I breathed a sigh of relief, glad to be moving back to a lighter topic. “It’s actually a pretty great story.”

“Really?” Excitement filled her eyes, and she leaned her elbows on the table.

“You see, Gran was a bit of a rebel in her day. Her mother was kind of rigid when it came to the restaurant. The recipes she used were handed down from generation to generation. She taught Gran everything she knew, grooming her to someday take over the family business, but Gran, having been born here in America, wanted to try something different. While she had immense respect for her family and their traditions, she was as much of an American as she was French, but her Mother was horrified. Her grandmother used these recipes and her grandmother before her, and so on. During World War II, business suffered. Patriotism was high and money was tight, so their once thriving business was reduced to serving maybe two or three customers a night. On Gran’s sixteenth birthday, she asked her mother for only one thing,” I said, holding up a finger to emphasize my point. “She asked for her mother to let her make the special that night, but she wanted to make it her way. At that point her mother felt she had nothing to lose, so she reluctantly agreed and Gran set to work.”

Madison leaned in close and I smiled, knowing I had her complete attention.

“That night, Gran changed the special board and set it out in front, opening the doors and all of the windows, hoping the delicious scent would carry on the wind to draw people in.”

“Did it work?” she asked.

I laughed. “In a way. For most of the night the restaurant remained empty. A few regulars came in ordering their usual, but no one was going for Gran’s special. About an hour before closing, a young soldier came in to the empty restaurant. Gran showed him to a table and asked him what he would like. He said he didn’t know, that he had never eaten French food before, but the smell that caught him as he walked by reminded him of home and he just had to find out what it was. Gran smiled down at him and told him that she knew just what he needed. She fixed him a large helping of her special.” I gestured to my now empty plate, and I watched the understanding flood her eyes.

“Pot roast,” she said.

I nodded. “Pot roast. When Gran brought him his plate, he convinced her to join him, and they spent the rest of the night laughing and talking. The next day, three more soldiers came in, asking for the special. Then five more, and a few more, and by the end of the week, the little bistro was back to a packed house every night.”

“So, whatever happened to the soldier?”

“Gran always made sure to keep one table open for him every night just in case he stopped in, and every night he would be there to order the special with a side of Gran. He came every day for a month. He always ordered the same thing, always stayed until close, and always requested Gran’s company.”

“One day, he was nowhere to be seen. Gran kept his table open, refusing to let anyone take it even though the place was packed, but he never showed. That night, Gran was closing up, her heart aching from the absence of the kind soldier who’d helped save her family’s livelihood, when there was a knock at the door. Gran turned to see her soldier, smiling at her through the glass. When she stepped outside, he smiled, took her hand in his…” I smiled and took Madison’s hand, “and said, ‘I came here in search of home and I’ve found it in you.’ They were married three months later and spent fifty-three years together before he passed away.”

Tears welled in her eyes. She looked up at me, a dreamy, euphoric look on her face. “Really?” she asked.

“No.” I chuckled. That confused frown made another appearance. “They met on a bowling league in the fifties.” I laughed as she stared at me, her mouth hanging wide open in shock. “Had you going there for a minute, huh?”

“Asshole,” she said, tossing her napkin at me as I laughed. She shook her head at me, unable to believe that I could tell a story with such conviction that she would soak up every word as if it was the God’s honest truth.

She swatted at my arm with a giggle. I caught her hand in mine and turned it palm down as a wicked grin spread wide across my face. She watched me, those beautiful eyes focused on my lips as I slowly lowered my mouth to press a gentle kiss to her knuckles.

 

***

 

The rest of dinner went pretty well, which, considering the way it started, was pretty remarkable. The conversation flowed easily. We talked about books and music, likes and dislikes. She laughed as I told her stories about my friends, and I smiled as she told me about Margot’s blood feud with her assistant Jeremy.

On the way out, we popped into the kitchen to say good-bye to Gran, and I laughed as Madison turned that deep shade of red when Gran winked at her.

The drive back to her place was only slightly less tense then the drive to the restaurant. The nerves she felt earlier were back full force, causing her to fidget and squirm in her seat. I reached across the center console and took her hand, bringing it to my lips as I focused on the road in front of me. The small gesture seemed to calm her. She relaxed, exhaling as I laced our fingers together.

She was thinking pretty loudly. I could tell from the way her eyes were unfocused and dazed as she stared out the windshield that she was worried. I watched as she nervously chewed her bottom lip and had to shake off the urge to pull over and chew on that lip myself for a while.

I pulled up in front of her building and she looked around, confused how we had gotten there so quickly. I chuckled and opened my door, getting out and moving quickly around to her side to help her out of the car.

She placed her hand in mine with a shy smile. “Thank you,” she said.

I smiled. “Who says chivalry is dead?”

She giggled and searched inside her bag for her keys.

She opened the front door, and I followed as she made her way toward the elevator. The ride to her floor was quiet, and I could see her staring at me out of the corner of my eye, but when I turned to look at her she turned away, pretending to admire the control panel or the ceiling or her shoes. I lifted my hand to my mouth to hide my smile as she puffed out her cheeks, releasing a long exhale while still avoiding my eyes. She was nervous as hell, and it made me want to press her to the wall of the elevator and kiss her until the anxiety melted away.

When the doors opened, I followed her down the hall before she stopped in front of a dark gray door.

She turned toward me, fidgeting with her keys again. “I had a really great time,” she said, her voice raising a bit at the end, sounding more like a question than a statement.

“You don’t sound so sure,” I said.

“I am. I mean, I think I am. To be honest, I didn’t think anything could save this night after my little outburst in front of Gran.”

I took a step toward her and threaded my fingers through the short hair at the back of her neck. “Tonight didn’t need saving,” I said, losing myself in her clear blue eyes.

She looked up at me, her eyes searching mine as she sucked her bottom lip into her mouth. She was thinking again. She’d done enough thinking tonight, so I did the only thing I could do. I kissed her.

I gently pressed my lips to hers. She sighed against my mouth and gave in to the kiss, her lips moving slowly with mine. I slid my arm around her waist and pulled her tight against me. She tasted good and felt even better.

I groaned and pulled her tighter against my chest. Her lips parted slightly, and I deepened the kiss, slipping my tongue over hers. The heat from her skin and the taste of her lips drove me out of my mind.

I pushed her back against the door, my fingers biting into the flesh of her hip as I fought for the control to break the kiss.

Every cell in my body wanted her. I wanted to throw open that door, strip her bare, and bury myself inside her before we could even make it to the bedroom, but I didn’t just want to fuck her.

The connection between us was intense, raw, and powerful. I wanted a real chance to explore whatever was happening between us.

She moaned, and I gripped her hips tighter, pushing her away from me and finally breaking the kiss. Her blue eyes were cloudy with lust as her eyes traveled over the bulge of my crotch.

I leaned forward and rested my forehead against hers, both of us breathing heavily. “You were thinking too much,” I said, looking into her eyes. “You needed a distraction.”

“Well done,” she said with a smile.

I chuckled and brushed my thumb gently across her cheek as she sighed and leaned into me. “I’m gonna go. I’ll call you tomorrow,” I said, leaning in for one more quick taste.

She nodded. “Thank you for tonight.”

“You’re very welcome,” I said, taking a step back and heading toward the elevator. I continued walking backwards, watching as she pushed open her door and gave me a shy smile as she headed inside.

I pushed the button to call the elevator, smiling to myself as I waited for the doors to open. The sweet taste of her lips lingered on mine, and it took everything I had not to run back down the hall and bang on her door.

The elevator doors opened and I stepped inside. One kiss and this woman already had me completely tied in knots. I didn’t just want her, I craved her. I was an addict, and addiction is a disease with no cure.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 9

 

 

Madison

 

The next morning, I breezed by Jeremy with a lazy smile and a good morning, acting like a teenager with a crush, but I couldn’t help it.

“You’re in a good mood. I’m guessing last night went well,” he said, following me into my office.

“Yeah.” I sighed, sinking into my chair.

Jeremy laughed. “That good, huh?”

“It was a bit of a rough start, and it didn’t take long before I made a complete fool of myself. You and Margot told me to make my intentions clear, that it was all about sex. Well, I made my intentions clear, all right. They were crystal clear to his grandmother, who was standing behind me.”

Jeremy burst into laughter, almost falling out of his chair.

“Exactly his reaction, only a tad less dramatic,” I said.

“What did Grandma do?” he asked, still giggling.

“She told me to make him work for it,” I said with a smile.

“I like Grandma,” he said.

I giggled. “Me too.”

“So, did you?” he asked.

“Did I what?”

“Make him work for it.”

“Oh stop,” I said. “I didn’t sleep with him.”

“Then what’s with the stupid grin?”

I leaned back in my chair and sighed. “He kissed me.”

“That’s it?” Jeremy asked. “What are you, thirteen?”

“It was a really good kiss.”

“Are you seeing him again?”

“If he calls.”

Jeremy got to his feet “Oh, trust me,” he said. “He
will
call.”

 

***

 

Around two, I got a text from Sean.

 

Sean: That was some kiss.

 

I smiled, typing my reply.

 

Madison: We should do it again sometime.

 

Sean: Tonight? Come to trivia.

 

Madison: I would love to, but I have a dinner meeting.

 

Sean: Can I see you after?

 

Madison: It might be late.

 

Sean: So. Come by after your meeting?

 

I sat back in my chair, debating whether or not I should go. Going to a man’s house late and alone usually implied sex, but wasn’t that exactly what this whole thing with Sean was about? I mean, if that kiss last night was any indication of his talents in the bedroom, whoa.

Booty calls fall under casual sex. Didn’t they? Suddenly, I was insanely nervous.

 

Sean: What do you say?

 

The sound of the text coming through brought me out of my freak out. Clock’s ticking. WWMD? I sat up straight, took a deep breath, and sent my reply.

 

Madison: I’ll be there.

 

“Jeremy,” I yelled out the door. “Cancel my three o’clock and get me Margot on the phone.” If I was going to do this, I was going to do it right.

The intercom buzzed and Jeremy said, “Margot’s on line one.”

I picked up the receiver. “Margot? Call Kelly. I think I’m going to have sex tonight.”

 

***

 

Kelly definitely did Margot proud. She poked and prodded and waxed me in places that had me walking funny as I went to meet my client for dinner. Margot met me at the salon with the perfect little dress that hugged my curves and dipped scandalously low in the back. With the help of a blazer it was appropriate for my meeting, but I could easily stash the blazer in my car for my night with Sean.

I was a tad overdressed, but as Margot reminded me, I told him I was coming from a meeting, so he would expect me to be a little dressed up.

Kelly did my eyes with this intense smoky gray but left me with a neutral lip.

“Never wear color on your lips when you are expecting some action. No one looks good with lipstick smeared all over their face,” Kelly said.

Sean sent me a text with his address while I was at the meeting and from that moment on, I found it difficult to focus on anything else. Luckily I’d over prepared for the meeting, as usual, and was able to fake my way through most of it.

At about ten thirty, I found myself standing in front of Sean’s building. I took a deep breath and hit the intercom button. The door buzzed, and I pulled it open to head inside, my body tensing with every step I took. I wasn’t totally convinced I could do this, but I damn sure wanted to.

I got in the elevator and headed up to his floor when my cell phone rang. I answered quickly without even looking at the screen. “Hello.”

“Hey there, Maddie Bear.”

I cringed. I really needed to be more careful about checking my caller ID. “Hello, Michael,” I said, the distaste clear in my voice.

“Is that any way to speak to your husband, Maddie Bear?”

“Ex-husband, and please stop calling me that,” I snapped, my temper flaring at his continual use of that ridiculous pet name.

Michael laughed, amused that he’d managed to get under my skin.

“My parents are coming into town next week and they want to see you,” he said.

I loved Michael’s parents. They were truly wasted on him. When Michael left me for the intern, his mother called me in tears, apologizing for her son’s deplorable behavior. His father always bragged about his successful daughter. He never referred to me as his daughter-in-law. They both treated me like family from the first time Michael brought me home.

“We’re meeting for dinner. Why don’t you join us?” he asked, like it was no big deal for me to have dinner with my lying, cheating, ex-husband and his parents.

“Michael, I can’t go to dinner with your parents. I love them, I do, but we’re divorced, something you seem to have forgotten.”

The elevator doors opened. I was so annoyed with Michael and his ridiculous request that I forgot where I was for a moment.

“Madison, be reasonable. I’m not talking about a week in the country. It’s one dinner. They miss you.” He sounded pathetic. I could practically hear the pout in his voice.

“Why not bring Miss Hawaiian Tropic?” Was I being petty? Sure, but I knew his parents hated her, not that I was much of a fan myself, and it felt good to rub it in his face. The little tart had ruined my marriage and his parent’s perfect little family. As far as I was concerned, he’d made his bed. Now he had to lie in it.

“You know I can’t do that,” he spat. “Help me out here, okay? I need to get them off of my back, and you were always so good to them. Please Maddie? Just this once?”

I sighed. “Fine, but after this, Michael, I am done.” I couldn’t believe how easily I’d just caved. Now who was pathetic?

“Of course. I’ll send Jeremy the details. I can’t wait to see you, Maddie Bear.” His voice softened now that he’d gotten what he wanted. I would call him a son of a bitch, but I had too much respect for his mother.

I hung up the phone with a frustrated groan and looked up to see Sean leaning in the doorway of his apartment, his arms crossed and that grin spread wide across his lips as he watched me.

“Hey, beautiful. Rough call?” he asked, nodding toward the phone still tucked in my hand.

I nodded, my shoulders sagging in defeat. “Do you have any wine?”

“Red or white?” He smiled, and my lips twitched as he stepped aside to let me in.

I sat down on the couch, and Sean headed for the kitchen. I dropped my head in my hands and didn’t look up again until I saw his bare feet in front of me. When I looked up, he handed me a glass and took a seat beside me.

In my angry haze, I didn’t really have a chance to take him in. He was wearing a pair of well-worn jeans, the kind you can tell are someone’s favorites because they’re a little frayed in places and the fabric seemed much softer to the touch. His blue striped button down shirt hung loose, the first two buttons open, and the sleeves were rolled up, revealing his strong forearms. His blond hair was a little wild and falling into his eyes, making me want to run my fingers through it to see if it felt as soft as it looked.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Sean asked. He took a sip from his glass and set it on the coffee table.

I blinked, bringing myself back from my little fantasy. “About what?”

“The call.”

I took a sip and shrugged. “It was no big deal, just my ex.”

“It sounded kind of intense.”

The genuine concern in his eyes floored me. He barely knew me, yet he seemed so sincere. It made me want to just unload about Michael and the corner he just backed me into, but that wasn’t why I came.

“No, I’m fine. Let’s just forget it and start over.” I smiled up at him and relaxed further into the couch. “Hi.”

A smile lit up his face and those eyes, those oh-so-gorgeous eyes. “Hey, beautiful,” he said as he leaned in and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to my lips.

My body warmed from the sweetness of his lips, and I smiled. It was amazing what even the smallest of kisses from him could do.

He sat back on the couch with his arm resting behind me. “You up for a movie?”

“Sounds good to me.”

“I’m a bit of a classic film nerd,” he said with a shy smile. “Have you ever seen Harvey?”

I shook my head and took a sip from my glass.

He looked shocked. “Seriously? Jimmy Stewart and a six-foot invisible rabbit. It’s a classic.” His enthusiasm was infectious, and I couldn’t help but giggle.

When the movie was in, Sean grabbed the remote and settled back on the couch. He slipped his arm around me, tucking me in tight against him. I slid off my heels and snuggled into his side, breathing in that spicy, earthy scent that was all him.

 

***

 

I am not usually a fan of black and white movies, but this one was hilarious. Sean and I stayed nice and cozy through the entire thing. He kept his arms around me, softly caressing the skin on the back of my arm with his knuckles. That soft, innocent touch had my skin on fire. I was hyper aware of every move, every breath, every laugh.

When the movie was over, Sean turned off the TV. “You hungry?” he asked. “I have some of Millie’s famous chocolate strawberry cheesecake.”

I stretched my arms above my head. “Mmm, that sounds amazing.”

He smiled and headed to the fridge, returning with a large piece and a fork. “This is hands down the best cheesecake in the world.” He took the fork, broke off a small piece of the cake, and held it out to me. I took a bite and sighed. I swear to God it tasted like heaven. Light and fluffy and oh so decadent.

“That is amazing!” I said. “Where did you get this from?”

“David’s wife, Millie, makes it. It’s a lot of work, so she’ll only make it on special occasions. She knows it’s my favorite so she always saves me a piece.” He took a bite for himself, closing his eyes. A soft groan came from deep in his throat.

When he finally opened his eyes, they locked with mine and held as electricity sparked and crackled between us.

I shook free of his captivating gaze, stealing the fork from his hand and taking another bite.

“You have to get me this recipe,” I said, my mouth still full of cheesecake.

“Good luck with that. I’ve been trying to get it out of Millie for years. Gran has even tried to buy it from her for the restaurant, but she insists it’s a family secret,” Sean said as he stole a bite from the fork in my hand before I could bring it to my mouth.

“Hey, no fair,” I whined.

“You got to be quick with Millie’s cheesecake.”

“Oh yeah? Here, I’ll share.” I grabbed a piece with my fingers and swiped it down his nose and across his lips.

“You’re asking for it now,” he said as he grabbed my waist, holding me tight against him, and rubbed his nose and the cheesecake all over my neck and face. I squealed, laughing and squirming until my back was pressed into the couch. Sean leaned over me, pinning my wrists down beside my head, both of us breathless from laughing and smeared with cheesecake.

Sean’s eyes darkened and he leaned in, pressing his lips to mine, his tongue slowly licking the cake from my lips. He continued along my jaw, to my cheek, and down my neck, slowly tasting my skin, which mixed with the sweet taste of the dessert.

He released my wrists and brought one hand slowly down my side. I arched my back, giving him better access to my neck as his lips began to travel further south. I moaned as his lips met the soft spot where my neck meets my shoulder. He lifted his head, looking down at me with that trademark smile, the one that warmed me from the inside, and I was lost. My nervousness faded away, and all that was left was want.

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