Winning Streak (12 page)

Just as Madden picked up his burger, the waitress stopped by and tilted her head with a frown. “Somethin' wrong, hon?”

“Oh, no. We were just talking, and I got sidetracked. I'm about to make it disappear like Copperfield.”

Sandy, according to her name tag, smiled at Cole's empty plate. “Looks like this one can multitask.”

“He's gifted.”

Cole flicked a wadded straw wrapper on the table, and it landed in Madden's Coke. “He shoots, he scores!”

Sandy giggled and picked up Cole's plate and silverware. “Let me just get this out of your way. Can I interest you in dessert today?”

“I'll take the Perfect Brownie Sundae.”

“You got it. Anything I can get for you, sir?”

Madden winked. “I think I'm set, thanks.”

Sandy smiled politely, but it wasn't the usual female reaction to his charm. Could he be losing his mojo? Not with Saralynn, and that's all that mattered. He shrugged and ate half his burger in two bites. Three more bites, and it was gone with the fries on deck.

Cole smirked. “You weren't kidding, Copperfield.”

Madden picked the wrapper out of his drink and sipped through the straw. “I'd answer you, but it would only slow me down.”

“Right. Well after you finish, do you think you'll ask Saralynn to move in with you?”

That one caught him off guard. He'd joked about it the night before but hadn't seriously given it thought. His first reaction was no, he couldn't imagine Saralynn agreeing to give up her own space and share his. Not yet anyway. On the other hand, going to bed and waking up together held definite appeal. “I don't think we're there yet. Besides, we'd have to go public first.”

“And she doesn't want to.”

“We haven't talked about it recently, so I'm not sure, but my gut says no.”

“You should talk to her. Make
sure
you're on the same page. Communication is the most important thing in a relationship.”

“Okay, Oprah.”

“Mock all you want, but which one of us can be seen in public with his girlfriend?”

Well, damn. Kid had a point.

Brownie sundae balanced on one hand, Sandy stopped by the booth across from them and collected the meager tip those diners had left with a soft sigh under her breath. She replaced the disappointment with a smile when she presented Cole with his dessert.

“This looks awesome. Thank you.” A second after that, the captain attacked the plate with his spoon.

“You are very welcome. Anything else I can get you?”

“You've been excellent, Sandy, just a check whenever you can. And on behalf of all customers, I'd like to apologize for the crappy tip those people left you.” Having waited tables in his teens, Madden knew how tips could make or break a day. Sure, he'd grown up financially stable, but his father had insisted he get a job as soon as he could drive. Something about idle hands. Any spending money had depended on his tips.

“Oh.” She flushed under the fluorescents, clearly surprised and embarrassed that he'd noticed. “One low tip doesn't make much difference. Bills just pile up so fast, it's hard to stay on top of things. Most times I don't realize something's due until I get a late notice.”

“I know how that can be. You think you're managing well, but things happen. If you don't mind a little advice, something that worked for me was making a list of all my expenses and when everything was due. Look at it every day, and you'll never forget again. Makes budgeting easier, too. Once you have that list, you could also set up monthly text or email alerts.”

“Are you an accountant?”

“A couple lifetimes ago.” After having been in the paper a number of times—none of which were flattering—it was refreshing to talk to someone who had no idea who he was. “Plus, I've been in debt.” Serious, obscene debt. “I know how scary it can be and how good it feels to climb out.”

“You should consider opening a debt consulting business. I bet you have a lot of good advice. And in this city, I'm sure you'd have a lot of clients.”

He smiled and nodded. The thought of running his own business, and one that helped people, was tempting. But he already had a job he loved. If only he were allowed to do it.

Saturday, March 15th

All week. All week they'd been trading secret glances and smiles, brushing against each other in the hallway but not talking. They'd both been too busy with an extra-heavy game week, and it was starting to get to her. So when Madden sent her a text on Friday formally asking for a date, she'd typed “Yes!” so hard, she almost cracked her screen.
Easy, girl
. She insisted on hosting this time. Neither her apartment nor her cooking would make the impression he had the week before, but she could make up for that. Hopefully.

She'd never been the eager one in a relationship, and she would have felt off balance if he weren't eager as well. And she knew he was because he'd been texting her all day. When guys had done that in the past, it was annoying, suffocating, a turnoff. Those guys weren't Madden.

What was happening to her?
I miss you
and
I can't wait to see you
used to give her a headache. Now they gave her the warm and fuzzies. The proof was in the hours it took her to get ready, most of that time spent picking an outfit. Her first instinct was to go sexy, but she didn't want to look desperate, so she opted for an outfit that was sultry but didn't scream “needy.”

She lit taper candles on the dining table in her cozy kitchen and straightened the place settings. The oven beeped at the same time Madden knocked, and she called over her shoulder, “It's open!” Silly anticipation surged through her, though she tried to tamp it down as she lifted the casserole dish onto the stove.

She waved him in, but he just stood in the doorway, blank shock on his face. “When you said you'd take care of dinner, I thought you meant order a pizza. You cooked? For me?”

“You cooked for
me
.” She planted a hand on her waist, but some of the intended sass might've been lost thanks to the oven mitt. At least it was Vera Bradley.

He laughed and held his hands palms out. “No woman's ever cooked for me before. And that smells so good, I'm ready to sell my soul for some.”

“Are you serious?” It seemed unlikely no woman had ever made a meal for Madden Vaughn. Unless they were too busy making a meal
of
him. Some of her spunk drained away. “Guess we're even. You're my first in the kitchen.”

A fire lit behind his eyes, yet along with it was the gooey, dewy adoration that should've scared her to death but instead warmed the dark parts of her heart. She tried to play it off with a shrug. “It's just mac and cheese, but it's my specialty. Annnnd … ” She tilted a pot sideways so he could see the chili-like mixture inside. “Sloppy joes.”

“Marry me.” He said it straight-faced even though she knew it was a joke, and yet, the bottom fell out of her stomach, and goose bumps covered her arms.
Stupid, traitorous body
.

“You might want to hold off until you taste it, but I'm pretty confident.”

Madden took a seat while she piled the sloppy joe on buns and set one on each of their plates. The mac and cheese she set in the middle of the table then slid into her own chair. “
Bon appetit
.”

His gaze pored over the food for a good three seconds before he even reached for the casserole. He piled some on his plate and breathed deep through his nose, making a pleased animal sound in his throat. “What are the red things?”

“Red bell pepper. Gives it a sweet crunch and lightens up the heavy cheese. Before you ask, the little dots are cayenne pepper for some heat.”

At the last two words, he met her eyes and smiled.

Okay, so they didn't need any help with heat, but they had to get through dinner first. She dug in, and the familiar, delicious flavors registered, but she wasn't that hungry for once. Not when all she could think about was what he looked like under the fitted T-shirt. She wanted to know whether Madden wore boxers or briefs more than she wanted her next bite. A year was a long time for a dry spell, but it wasn't just that. They connected on every other level. The sex would have to be electric.

Hard to read his thoughts, but if the way he was devouring the food was any clue, his full focus was on the meal. It was at once a boost and a blow to her ego. All right, she was a good cook, but apparently, she was no competition for mac and cheese and sloppy joes.
God, I'm jealous of food. Get a grip
. She'd been neurotic over a lot of things in her life, but never a man. Is this what all of her dates had felt like?

The clatter of a spoon hitting plate caught her attention. He'd eaten it all. While he went for casserole seconds, she ate as much as she could. By the time he finished again, so had she. Madden wiped his mouth with a napkin then patted his flat stomach. “Best mac I've ever had. I will pay you for that recipe. I'm so full, I'm not sure I even have room for dessert. But I could be persuaded.”

Her pulse picked up. Now or never. “I'm glad to hear you say that.” She rose and walked around the table to stand in front of him. “Because I had something sweet in mind.”

His pupils dilated as he looked up at her, his body tense.

She curled her fingers under the hem of her shirt, sliding it slowly up and over her head before she tossed it aside. His lips parted, but for a nerve-shattering minute, he didn't say anything, just drank her in, paying extra attention to the way she filled out the pink lace bra. What if he still wanted to wait? Self-conscious was a new emotion, and she was not a fan. It took everything to keep from grabbing her top and bolting for the bathroom. “I know you said you wanted to go slow, and if this is too … ”

He stood up faster than she could track, and the rest of that sentence didn't matter because his lips were on hers, hot and hungry. He pulled her flush against him, and his hands slid up her back then down her arms as if he couldn't get enough of her, and she understood completely. No matter how close she pressed against him—so close she could feel his heart hammering against hers—it wasn't enough. She slid her hands under his shirt, and the combination of soft warm skin over hard muscle just about took out her legs.

Madden the mind reader curled a hand under each thigh and lifted her legs around his waist. He pulled back from the kiss long enough to pant, “Bedroom?”

“That way.” She pointed behind him then took the opportunity to kiss along his jaw and behind his ear while he navigated. When she flicked her tongue
in
his ear, he froze for a second and groaned.

“You keep doing that, and we won't make it to the bed.”

Just for fun, she did it again, and he walked a little faster.

• • •

Madden's brain hadn't entirely caught up to what was happening, but that was okay. His body had a pretty good handle on it. One minute he was complimenting her cooking, and the next, somehow she was half-naked in front of him. They'd waited a month and a half. That was slow enough, right? They hadn't just jumped into things. And obviously she was in favor of moving forward.

He tossed her onto the bed, where she landed on the white down comforter with a bounce and a laugh. When she'd wiggled out of her jeans and he was down to his boxers, panic hit. “Oh … ”

“Nightstand. I picked some up last night.” Her smile was both innocent and wicked, and it turned him on even more.

Once fully protected, he crawled onto the bed and kissed a path from her ankle up the inside of her thigh, over her stomach and between her breasts until he reached her lips. “I think I know, but I have to ask. Are you sure—”

She grabbed his face in both hands and cut him off with a hot kiss, her back arching to press her breasts against his chest. When she broke away, she nipped at his lower lip and whispered, “Yes. I want to know you. Completely.”

Dear God, he wanted to know her, too. He reached behind her and unclasped her bra then slid it down her arms and dropped it over the side of the bed. Perfect. She was perfect. He must have stared too long for her liking because she rolled her hips against his and whimpered. He smiled and kissed her again while sliding her panties down to her knees. She helped get them the rest of the way off, and then nothing was between them.

He curled two fingers inside her to see if she was ready, and her warm, slick heat coated them. It didn't look like either of them would last long. He held his weight with a forearm on either side of her and poised himself between her legs. Slow and gentle had been his plan, but she wrapped her legs around his waist and guided him home. They both cried out, and from there, it was a frenzy of kissing, touching, squeezing, and thrusting.

So many heightened sensations hit all at once, it was overwhelming. It felt like floating on a higher plane of existence. He wasn't new to sex, but sex with Saralynn didn't compare to anything in his experience. Maybe it was the sweet, gradual build of anticipation, or never knowing what she'd do at any given moment. Those things definitely added to the rush, but it was more than that.

They were so in sync. Somehow she knew exactly where all of his sensitive spots were and played them to perfection. She kissed behind his ear and at the base of his throat while her hands slid over his hips and down to his thighs. Her fingers dug in, urging him deeper inside her, and he almost lost it. This kind of physical compatibility usually took months to figure out, if ever, but here, now, it was effortless and so much more powerful than ever before.

As she writhed beneath him and her nails found his back, stars exploded behind his eyes. He held onto her hips and moved faster, harder. She held on tighter, her soft, rhythmic moans of encouragement pushing him to the edge, and then he fell over it. He thrust deep one last time. She threw her head back and cried out his name as her body tensed and pulsed around him. He rocked his hips gently while they rode out the blinding sparks before his muscles went slack.