Take A Chance On Me (6 page)

Maddie clutched the bag to her chest and said, reverently, “I don’t care what she’s here for, I will owe her forever.”

“Yeah, she has that kind of effect on people.” Mitch’s wry tone was tinged with amusement. “Why don’t you run upstairs and get yourself dressed, then you can meet her. She’s chomping at the bit, and no matter how hard I try, I can’t get rid of her. Short of me picking her up and throwing her out on her ass, she’s not leaving.”

Maddie was so happy, so thankful, that she had an impulse to kiss Mitch full on the lips. Since that would be a terrible idea, she pressed the bag of treasures tighter to her chest. “Thank you.”

Mitch grinned and tugged a lock of her hair. “Don’t thank me, Princess. I had nothing to do with it.” He leaned down, his breath warm against the shell of her ear. “If I had my way, I’d have kept you naked for as long as possible.”

A hot flush crawled up her neck and she jerked back. “Oh!”

He chuckled. “Go get dressed, Maddie.”

 

 

Fifteen minutes later, she bounded downstairs with a new lease on life. The bag of goodies had set off something inside her and renewed her sense of purpose. Yesterday, she’d had no plan. She’d been in panic mode, pure and simple. But being stranded without money, clothes, and modern conveniences had forced her to realize the truth. She hadn’t been running away; she’d been running toward freedom. This disaster had pushed her from the nest—she’d either fight for it and fly, or fall to the ground with a splat.

But the choice was hers.

Wearing clothes two sizes too big, her hair in a ponytail and her face scrubbed free of makeup, she’d never felt better or more alive. Upstairs, pulling on the pair of jean shorts and powder-blue tee, she’d decided to tackle one problem at a time and not worry about the big picture.

First order of business: food and coffee.

Since she smelled a fresh pot, this should be easy to check off the list. She pushed into the kitchen, sucking in the scent of caffeine goodness, and froze.

The swinging door whipped back and forth on its hinges, hitting her once in the butt before settling into place.

Maddie blinked, stunned speechless. Talk about false advertising.

Maddie had assumed his neighbor was an elderly, meddling busybody with a heart of gold. The woman propped against the blue-and-white-checked tiled counter was a freakin’ sex goddess.

“Maddie Donovan,” Mitch said from somewhere off to her left. “Meet my neighbor, Gracie Roberts.”

Maddie blinked again, staring at the woman with curves so lush they should be illegal.
This
was his neighbor? She tried to reconcile perception with reality, but it was too difficult.

Finally, she realized she was standing there openmouthed like a complete idiot, and remembered her manners. “Thank you for your generosity. You have no idea how grateful I am.”

“Oh, believe me, honey, it’s my pleasure.” Cornflower-blue eyes twinkling, Gracie put the coffee cup she’d held onto the counter. With a careless swipe of her hand, she pushed a wayward sunshine-blonde curl back from her forehead and tucked it behind her ear. “I’ve been dying to meet you ever since my brother, Sam, told me about your ordeal last night.”

Completely confused, Maddie darted a questioning glance over at Mitch.

Casual as could be, he hooked one ankle over the other, drawing her attention to his bare feet. “Sam’s my bartender. He was sitting in the corner booth last night.”

Maddie nodded, remembering the good-looking blond surfer type who had been watching them.

Gracie grinned from ear to ear, her full mouth a pale, glossy pink. “Well, my brother said Mitch pounced on you like a prisoner granted his first conjugal visit. So I had to see what all the fuss was about.”

Maddie had no idea what to say, but she was pretty sure the heat infusing her face made her look guilty, which was ridiculous. She willed her cheeks to cool. She had nothing to be ashamed of. Last night had been perfectly innocent. Sure, she’d had a few impure thoughts, but geez, everyone had those.

“Would you shut the hell up?” Mitch’s words held no heat, just good-natured exasperation. He shook his head at Maddie. “Don’t mind her, Princess. She has no control over her mouth.”

“Look at him, all protective.” Gracie gave Mitch a slow once-over. “That’s new.”

That earned her a menacing look from Mitch. “You can go home now.”

Gracie laughed, a full-bodied, throaty sound. “Not on your life.”

“I’ve thrown you out before,” Mitch said, putting his own coffee mug down on the counter as if preparing to do just that. “I’ll do it again.”

Maddie kept quiet, observing the interaction between them. There couldn’t be anything romantic between them, since even the most enlightened woman wouldn’t be this cool about a boyfriend bringing a strange woman home. That left friends, which, in some ways, was harder to believe.

How could any man have platonic thoughts about Gracie Roberts?

She wasn’t exactly Hollywood beautiful. More, she was jaw-droppingly cute mixed with downright sexy. Like Mary Ann and Ginger rolled into one drool-worthy package.

Gracie vaulted off the counter and planted her hands on full hips encased in a pair of jeans so low and tight that Maddie couldn’t figure how they stayed up. “Is that the thanks I get for coming to your rescue?”

“I didn’t need a rescue,” Mitch said, tossing a sly glance at Maddie. “I was doing fine without you.”

Maddie cleared her throat. “Well, I do appreciate the clothes.”

“Of course you do,” Gracie huffed. “He’d have kept you naked like a complete Neanderthal.”

“I was taking care of her. Wasn’t I, Maddie?”

Both of them looked at her. Having grown up in a household where these types of arguments had been a daily occurrence, Maddie wanted to protest the “taking care” comment, but decided that this wasn’t the time. Instead, she smiled calmly. “Yes, if it wasn’t for you I’d probably still be stranded in my car. And you were very . . . um, kind last night.” Before she could think too much about the orgasms they’d been discussing, she turned her smile toward Gracie. “But I can’t deny the essentials you gave me are a godsend.”

“See, I told you she needed those things.” Gracie’s expression held pure victory.

Mitch scrubbed a hand over his newly smooth jaw. “Yeah, you did.”

A smug, sly expression crossed Gracie’s features. “And I brought homemade treats.”

At the mere mention of food, Maddie’s stomach growled. She shrugged at Mitch. “She wins.”

“She usually does.” He sighed, shaking his head, but Maddie didn’t miss the amusement gleaming in his eyes. The amusement changed to heat as his gaze caught hers, pinning her to the spot. A reminder, without words, that he hadn’t forgotten last night. A warning not to forget he wasn’t harmless. His attention dropped to her mouth, lingered, and then rose again to meet her unblinking stare. “I’ll get the plates.”

He pushed off the counter and the spell broke. Flustered, she wiped her palms on her shorts, then smoothed her ponytail and turned to find Gracie watching her with avid curiosity. Maddie willed herself not to blush, and said, “Thanks again for the clothes.”

“Honestly, it was nothing.” Gracie surveyed Maddie and snorted, waving her hand up and down, making her
Playboy
-worthy breasts jiggle in a red tee with the words M
IDWEST
F
ARM
G
IRL
sprawled across it. “Sam said you were tiny, so I scrounged in my closet looking for the smallest clothes I had. Those shorts you’re swimming in haven’t made it past my hips since practically the sixth grade,” Gracie said, her lower lip puffing out. “It’s so unfair.”

Before Maddie could stop herself, she blurted, “You’re not expecting me to feel sorry for you, are you?”

Horrified, Maddie covered her mouth.

Three mismatched plates in hand, Mitch roared with laughter, drawing a surprised glance from Gracie before she joined in.

“I’m sorry,” Maddie said, talking over the two of them laughing like a couple of hyenas.

“Don’t be. She deserves it,” Mitch said, the laughter dying to a chuckle.

“My only excuse is I haven’t had any coffee yet, and you’re . . .” Maddie waved a hand. “Not what I expected.”

Gracie eyed Mitch with a sniff. “Mitch always makes me sound like a pain in the ass.”

“You are a pain in the ass,” Mitch said, putting down the plates in the center of a worn kitchen table. “Do you want coffee, Maddie?”

“That’d be great,” Maddie said. “Point me in the right direction.”

“You sit.” Mitch’s tone was laced with the “obey me” command that both raised her hackles and sent a peculiar jolt of heat through her lower belly.

“I got it,” Gracie said, pointing to an empty seat and gesturing for Maddie to sit. “How do you take it?”

Maddie nibbled on her bottom lip and contemplated kicking up a fuss at their bossiness, but decided against it. It wasn’t worth the hassle. She needed to sit anyhow, because her abused feet certainly couldn’t handle standing to make a silly point. So, like a good little girl, she pulled out the chair and sat. “I take it black, thank you.”

A moment later, a steaming cup of coffee sat in front of her. She wrapped her hands around the mug and sucked in the strong scent. She’d never smelled anything so delicious in her life. She took a sip, savoring the rich flavor.

A pink bakery box with the words D
ESSERTS
D
IVINE
in black scroll writing slid into her line of vision and her stomach gave another growl. Mouth watering, she envisioned what treat might be waiting for her. Maybe God didn’t hate her after all. If he did, wouldn’t he design a better punishment than homemade baked goods?

She smiled at Gracie, who slid into the chair next to her. “I hope you didn’t go to any trouble on my account.”

“Not at all,” Gracie said, running her finger through the seam of the box and flipping open the lid. “In fact, you’re doing me a favor. This is a new experiment, and I always need taste testers.”

Mitch sat down across from her with a wide smile on his face. “How are you feeling this morning, Princess?”

Maddie nibbled on her bottom lip. “I’m fine, thank you.”

“Not too hungover?” He stretched his long legs under the table and leaned back in his chair. Maddie did her best to ignore the way his black T-shirt pulled tight over his flat abdomen.

“Nothing coffee and food won’t cure,” Maddie said, taking another sip as though to prove her point.

“Well, we’ve got that covered.” Gracie slid a golden concoction sprinkled with powdered sugar from the bakery box. “It’s Swedish flop. But I infused some raspberry into the cream.”

Out of nowhere, Maddie’s throat closed over and she had to blink back sudden, unexpected tears. Teeth clenched, she stared at the flaky pastry, which was overflowing with pink-tinged buttercream.

She hadn’t had Swedish flop in thirteen years. It had been a Sunday-morning tradition that ended when her dad died.

She remembered every detail of their last Sunday together. The sound of her dad’s voice as it echoed through the house. The whole family around the table. The laughter. Her brothers, happy and carefree. Her mom singing “Leader of the Pack” along with the oldies station.

A totally different life, belonging to a girl she’d almost forgotten.

“Maddie?” Mitch’s voice, filled with concern, pulled her to the present. “Are you okay?”

The unexpected memory triggered the grief. The guilt. Throat tight, she gripped her mug and looked away from the cake. She needed a moment to pull herself together and then she’d be fine. She managed to grit out, “Great. Bathroom?”

Silence.

Maddie pressed her lips together and stared into the brown liquid swirling in her mug, praying he wouldn’t press. Unshed tears pricked at the corner of her eyes. All she needed was one minute alone to compose herself. Just one minute.

“Down the hall on the right,” he said, each word slow and deliberate.

Maddie nodded, pushed back her chair, and escaped.

 

 

Mitch stared after his runaway bride, wishing he could peer inside her brain and figure out what the hell had happened, but she remained as much a mystery to him as she had last night. Dragging a hand through his hair, he frowned at Gracie.

She pressed her lips together. “What set her off?”

“I have no idea,” Mitch said, turning his attention to the pastry Gracie had brought. Maddie had looked at it as though she’d seen a ghost.

“I like her,” Gracie said, the questions as clear as if she’d spoken them.

Mitch gave the woman he’d come to think of as a sister a level-eyed stare, keeping his mouth shut.

Gracie tilted her head to the side, sending her mop of blond curls flying. “How are you going to keep her?”

“She lives in Chicago. I’m not keeping her.” He was temporarily borrowing her until she decided to hightail it to her real life.

She gave a smug smile. “I meant keep her
for now
.”

Mitch scrubbed a hand over his jaw, contemplating. “I’m not sure she has any other options.”

“Don’t tell me you’re banking on that?” Gracie looked up to the ceiling as if exasperated by his complete stupidity. “A woman always has options, and she’ll think of plenty if you’re stupid enough to point out that she has to choose you by default.”

Of course, Gracie was right.

But he’d talked her into staying once; he could do it again. The question was, how? Mitch sat forward, placing his elbows on the table, his brain starting a slow, methodical spin. He took a sip of coffee and looked at Gracie. She practically danced in her chair.

He rolled his eyes. “What’s on your mind?”

“The way I see it,” Gracie said, not letting grass grow under her feet with any long dramatic silences, “her car’s broken down, and Tommy’s is closed today. That buys you a couple of days.”