Chapter Eleven
The next morning, while Maddie slept curled in his bed, Mitch called the garage.
“Tommy’s,” Mary Beth Crowley said, her voice hinting at the last bit of drawl left over from her Carolina days.
“How’s my favorite girl this morning?” Mitch asked, teasing her like he always did.
Mary Beth was a thirty-five-year-old, five-foot, blond-haired firecracker who ruled Tommy and half the town with an iron fist. Head of the Junior League and on every committee known to man, she was not the kind of woman you wanted on your bad side.
“Don’t you give me your smooth talk, Mitch Riley. You should be ashamed of yourself, taking advantage of a poor runaway bride on her wedding day.” The sound of the Juicy Fruit gum Mary Beth always chewed snapped in his ear.
“Yeah, well—”
Mary Beth cut him off, talking right over him. “And in her wedding dress! Have you no shame?”
Apparently, when it came to Maddie, he didn’t.
“You know the whole town is talking about this,” Mary Beth continued, and Mitch kept quiet, picking up his coffee mug and leaning against the counter while she lectured.
When she finally wore herself out, he said, “You’re absolutely right, Mary Beth. Is Tommy around?”
More gum snapping, followed by what Mitch was pretty sure was a bubble. With the sigh of the truly resigned, she said, “Hang on, sugar.”
A minute later, Tommy got on the line. “Hey, good news. She’s lucky and it’s only a busted alternator. I called over to Shreveport and they have the part. I can send Luke to get it and have this baby fixed by the end of the day.”
The “good news” felt more like a kick in the gut, and Mitch put his mug down as a cold sweat broke along his forehead, chilling him inside and out. What would Maddie do without the excuse of her car to keep her here?
“You still there?” Tommy asked.
Mitch shook his head, trying to clear the rush of panic from his brain. “Yeah, one sec.”
“’Kay.” The rustling of Tommy’s papers in the background was like nails on a chalkboard to Mitch’s ear.
Would she leave? Sure, they’d agreed to day-by-day last night, but without her broken-down car she had no reason to stay. She could just as easily go find herself in the next town over.
Shit. What was happening here? He’d known her for less than two days, so why in the hell was he having this reaction?
It was too fast, too quick.
Whether it was today, tomorrow, or next week, Maddie was leaving. If her leaving was already an uppercut to the jaw, another week together would only make it a hell of a lot worse.
He cleared this throat. “Sorry about that. So, how much is this going to cost?”
“About three to four hundred.”
Mitch’s chest tightened, and he rubbed at it while he stared blankly at his kitchen table, worn and scratched by time and use. He’d spent hours playing gin rummy there and drinking his grandma’s homemade lemonade—simple, warm times, completely unlike the cold, sterile nights around the dinner table in the six-thousand-square-foot house he’d lived in with his parents.
When he’d hug his grandma, she wouldn’t let go until he did, and his grandpa would take him fishing until Mitch was tired, sunburned, and happy. Even his sister had been different here. As the long days passed, Cecilia’s hair would become a little messier and her dress a little more rumpled. Before long, she’d be swinging from the rope attached to the tree and screaming like a banshee as she splashed into the river.
Revival, this house, the river out back, they were good places to remember. To find some peace.
“Mitch?” Tommy’s voice pushed away the memories and brought him back to the matter at hand.
Maddie had the cash. She had more than enough.
“I’ll pay you two thousand dollars if you stall.” Mitch blinked, surprised to hear the words that had just come out of his mouth.
“What?” Tommy asked, his own surprise clear in his tone.
“I will pay you two grand to stall the repair,” he repeated, ignoring the little voice in his head telling him this was wrong. If there was another way, he’d take it, but every other option had variables. And he couldn’t risk variables.
“And how long am I supposed to do that?”
Mitch calculated how much time he could get away with while not raising Maddie’s suspicions. The small-town thing would only get him so far before it became unbelievable. “Can you make it the end of the week?”
If he pushed it until Friday, maybe he could convince her to stay through the weekend instead of making her way back home. That gave him about a week.
One week, then he’d let the chips fall where they may.
“So let me get this straight, you’re going to pay me two thousand dollars to let the car sit in my garage for a week?”
“Plus the cost of the repair,” Mitch added, knowing Maddie would insist on paying for the car herself. “I’ll bring her in this morning, and you tell her the repair will be three to four hundred but will take until Friday to fix. I’ll pay you two thousand dollars on the side.”
“You’ve got a real hard-on for this girl.” Tommy laughed, repeating Charlie’s sentiment from last night.
“Never mind that. And for fuck’s sake, don’t tell your wife.” It was only right to point out that Tommy was the pussy-whipped one, not him.
“Now, that’s going to cost you a little more,” Tommy said in a thoughtful tone.
Mitch narrowed his eyes. “You’re telling me two grand isn’t enough?”
“It’s plenty for me, but Mary Beth’s silence will cost you something extra.”
Ah, hell. He was about to get hustled and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. “Don’t tell her and we won’t have a problem.”
Tommy made disapproving sounds, and Mitch could practically see the big, blond ex-captain of the football team rocking back and forth on his chair. “Now, you know I can’t. A good marriage is built on honesty.”
Mitch’s grip tightened on his mug, and he silently cursed. “You don’t give a shit that your wife carries your balls in her purse, do you?”
Tommy’s chuckle was pure evil. “It’s a small price to pay for matrimonial bliss.”
Mitch tried to think of a way out, but for the life of him he couldn’t see one. Between lack of sleep and deprived blood flow, his normally agile mind failed. “And this is nonnegotiable?”
“Well, I’m reasonable.” Tommy’s voice took on the tone of a resigned man. “But, you know Mary Beth, and she does like her gossip.”
Everyone in town would know about the plot by noon, and as much as Mitch wanted to delude himself, he didn’t think Maddie would stay locked in the house for a week.
“Fine.” Mitch ground out through clenched teeth. “I’ll look at your nephew’s case. But I’m not making any promises.”
Mary Beth’s teenage nephew, Luke, had gotten in with the wrong crowd and landed in some trouble with the law. Tommy and Mary Beth had asked Mitch to defend the boy, but Mitch had refused, despite their repeated requests. Mitch couldn’t bring himself to play at something he could no longer be a part of.
Tommy and Mary Beth knew the whole story. The whole town did, although no one spoke of it. Mitch couldn’t figure out why in the hell they wanted him, but they’d been damn insistent.
“I cannot wait to meet this girl,” Tommy said, and Mitch could practically hear the grin.
“Just play your part when I get there or the deal’s off.”
“Sure thing, boss. Oh, and Mitch, I’ll have Luke’s files sent over today.”
“Fuck you, Tommy.”
“Pleasure doing business with you.” Tommy laughed and hung up.
Smug bastard.
Maddie stared at the blond mechanic, who had shoulders so wide they almost filled the doorway of the garage office. “What do you mean it’s going to take until Friday?”
Tommy scratched his head as though her question confused him. “I need to order the part.”
“It’s an alternator,” Maddie said, crossing her arms. “I can order the part over the Internet and have it delivered to your shop tomorrow.”
She didn’t know why she was fighting about this. She wasn’t in any hurry to get home, but she couldn’t get over this feeling she was being swindled.
Tommy cocked a brow at Mitch. Maddie turned a questioning glare in his direction, but all he did was give her back a little rub and nod at Tommy.
Irritated at them both, she shrugged Mitch’s hand away. Tommy grinned.
Despite the confessions and a good night’s sleep, she was in a foul mood. Her bad temper had started during breakfast and would not quit. She couldn’t put her finger on it, and would be hard-pressed to name her problem, but something about Mitch was different.
He was acting odd and treating her suspiciously like a kid sister. All the sexual heat between them had fizzled into nothing. Yesterday, he’d taken every opportunity to touch her. His gaze had lingered on her lips as though he meant to kiss her, he’d played with her hair, stroked a finger down her arm.
But today—nada. Over breakfast, he’d been a total gentleman, almost as if she were a stranger and hadn’t confessed her secrets to him.
Had talking about Sara reminded him that Maddie wasn’t even close to being in the same league? Or maybe she’d told him too much, and now he felt sorry for Steve after the horrible way she’d treated him.
She put her hands on her hips, her denim capris slightly rough with newness, and stared Tommy down while she silently fumed.
She’d slept in Mitch’s bed and it had been totally innocent and pure. It was what she’d wanted, but still, it bugged her. Sometimes a girl wanted to be a temptation, or at least cause a tiny struggle. It had been okay last night when she’d thought he was being nice, but in the light of morning, things continued.
She missed the sexual threat in his eyes, missed the hints of promise as he looked at her. Like he wanted her. Like he couldn’t wait to have her. She’d never had that before. Sure, Steve had been overprotective, but that hadn’t had anything to do with sex.
The mechanic scratched his temple again and shrugged one big shoulder. “You won’t get quality parts on the Internet.”
Maddie frowned. “It’s a Honda, not an Alfa Romeo.”
Next to her, Mitch tensed. “Tommy’s got a great reputation.”
What was going on here? Something wasn’t right. “I’m not saying he doesn’t, but five days for a simple alternator is a long time. I could probably get instructions and do it myself in an afternoon, so why would it take him until Friday?” Maddie crossed her arms. She didn’t know with whom they thought they were dealing, but she knew lots of “boy” things.
Mitch cleared his throat. “This isn’t Chicago, Maddie. Things move a lot slower down here.”
“Yeah,” Tommy said.
Maddie expected him to continue, but he just stood there, looking like a big dumb jock.
Maddie tapped her flip-flops on the concrete of the garage. “I understand, but it’s not exactly the middle of nowhere either.”
Again, Tommy shot Mitch a look Maddie couldn’t decipher, but before he could say anything, a cute blond woman who made Maddie look like a giant bustled over to them.
She shoved her hand out. “Hi, I’m Mary Beth Crowley, Tommy’s wife.” Her voice held a Southern drawl.
Maddie took the offered hand, only to have hers locked in a death grip. She tried not to wince as she said, “Maddie Donovan. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Mary Beth released her and the blood rushed back into her fingers. The tiny woman slipped her arm through Maddie’s elbow and beamed a megawatt smile. “Why don’t you and I go have a little talk? You know boys. They’ve cooked up a little scheme, and they’re too dumb to carry it off.”
Ha! She knew it! She whirled on Mitch and shot him a menacing glare, but he didn’t notice because he was too busy scowling darkly at Mary Beth.
“Honey,” Tommy said, his tone placating.
“Well, I’m sorry, but you two are making a big mess of everything and I’m not going to stand for it.” She patted Maddie’s arm. “I’m not going to let you con Maddie. She’s been through enough.”
Maddie’s fingers curled into fists as Mary Beth pulled her toward a glass-enclosed room.
“Mary Beth,” Mitch said, stepping in front of them and blocking their way from the privacy of the office. “You—”
She held up her hand. “No, I’m telling her the truth. Now step away.”
A low, frustrated sound emanated from Mitch’s broad chest. “You remember our deal.”
What
deal
?
Mary Beth straightened, and while she probably only kissed five feet, she looked more formidable than God. “Don’t you take that tone with me, Mitch Riley, I remember it perfectly. Now move out of my way before I get nasty.”
Mitch raked his hands through his hair in obvious irritation before moving away.
Mary Beth dragged Maddie into the office and shut the door.
When they were enclosed in the room, which was littered with papers and an old metal desk that looked like a prop from an old police television serial, Maddie raised a brow. “What exactly is going on?”
Resignation clouded Mary Beth’s cute face. “You know men, always looking out for us.”
Anger lit like a match inside Maddie as she turned narrowed eyes on Mitch through the windows. She didn’t know what was going on, but she was in the mood for a fight, and this was the perfect excuse to have one.
He gave her a sheepish look, and Maddie wanted to throttle him. She turned away. Her veins practically raced with adrenaline. She’d been tamping down her temper so long she’d forgotten how intoxicating it was to let it rise to the surface.
How much effort did she spend repressing her emotions? The better question was, why did she continue? She stiffened her spine. Not anymore. Through gritted teeth she said, “Yes, I know.”
Mary Beth’s expression turned consoling and she made some motherly “tsk” noises, even though she couldn’t be much older than Maddie. “They can’t help themselves. It’s in their nature, but obviously execution is not their strong suit.”