Chapter Eighteen
How many kids do you want?
TWO DAYS later, Maddie sat staring at her computer screen. Her pulse echoed through her ears as she scanned her e-mail once more, then switched over to check the stats on MisterGoodEnough.com.
Another of Trent’s friends from Atlanta had sent requests to Mad Designs for projects. Big projects. That made three so far today, and it was barely eleven.
The jerk.
New registrations on the dating Web site had exploded.
Her window was open to let the early October air filter in. She loved fall. The colors on the trees, the smell of the furnace kicking on for the first time, the longer nights. If Horatio would let her sleep, and if she didn’t check the informal mayoral poll at the Register’s Facebook page, she could almost pretend life was perfect. But the sound of hammers down the street merely served as a reminder that it wasn’t. Trent and Harry were reshingling her neighbor’s roof. Not only hadn’t he left, he’d gotten closer.
This morning she’d found a bouquet of cornflowers inside a funky purple vase on her porch. Saw these and thought of you, the note read.
She didn’t spend much time in florists, but she’d done a little googling this morning. There was no way Trent had stumbled over cornflowers. Not around here.
Her date next Tuesday with Mr. Mark Farley couldn’t come fast enough.
Horatio skittered into the office with his claws clicking against the wood floor. He darted between her feet, then launched himself at her leg and scrambled up, his claws poking through her flannel pajama pants to puncture her skin.
Maddie clamped her lips shut to keep from howling. Horatio flew across her desk, flung himself halfway across the room, and shot out the door and down the hall.
Something clanked in the living room. Outside, the hammering stopped. She stood and slammed the window down. She didn’t want to hear the sound of Trent working or not working. She snapped the blinds shut for good measure.
The kitty paws of doom echoed from the hallway toward the office. With a groan, Maddie watched her cat’s belly swish back and forth as he skidded to a sideways stop beside her. He peered up at her, made a weird chirping noise, then delicately leapt up onto the desk and licked himself.
Maddie pocketed her cell phone and headed for the kitchen. The sight of the flowers on her kitchen table made her groan again. She swept past them, grabbed one of Parker’s beers out of her fridge, and stomped out the back door.
She opened her e-mail on her phone, forwarded Gina the newest request, then parked herself in a beat-up lawn chair to stare up at the changing maple leaves. Leaving Horatio alone inside was risky, but she needed a breather.
Half a beer later, the hinges on her gate squeaked.
She squeezed her eyes shut. If she pretended she was sleeping, maybe he’d go away.
She snorted to herself. Not likely.
“That your first of the day?” Trent asked.
She peered up at him through one eye. He wore an old pair of jeans and a frayed University of Georgia T-shirt. His short hair was adorably mussed, and his skin had taken on a deeper tan.
Her date next week needed to be fantastic. “Does it matter?”
“Only if you’re gonna insist on driving again.” He jingled his keys as he approached her. “Got a minute? I want to show you something.”
Maddie tried to scowl at him, but her heart was doing something that felt suspiciously close to a happy dance at the sight of him. Her biological clock had totally found its rhythm and was walking on some sunshine. “I broke up with you, remember?”
“You think this is a date? Pizza and showing you something’s not a date.” The innocence in his eyes was as much an act as his casual stance. It bothered her that she knew that. “Now, Chinese food,” he said, “that would be a date. Sweet & sour chicken does it for me every time.”
He did it for her. Why couldn’t he want kids? “I may never eat Chinese again.”
“C’mon, Mad.” He slipped the beer bottle out of her hand and set it next to the door. “I promise to be on my best behavior.”
She lifted an eyebrow. “First of all, no. Second of all, if I did want to go, what makes you think I’d want your best behavior?”
His grin turned wicked. “What makes you think you don’t?”
Tension spiraled low in her belly. “If I went, this would only be a pity visit.”
“Got some cheesy bread waiting for us at Louie’s.”
That was just plain low. How was she supposed to turn that down? “Louie doesn’t make it anymore.”
Finally, he faltered. “He doesn’t?”
“He retired. He’s been touring the country in an RV since May.”
“So who’s handling my cheesy bread?”
Maddie’s lips twitched. “You remember Bernice Norton from high school? I think she works day shift.”
Trent’s finger traced the nape of her neck. She wanted to bolt out of her chair and put as much space between them as she could, but her body wouldn’t let her. An involuntary sigh slipped through her lips.
“You keep teasing me,” Trent murmured, “I’m gonna start thinking you like me more than you’re willing to admit.”
“Liking you isn’t the problem.”
He gave her shoulder a squeeze. “C’mon, Mad. It’s just lunch.”
She wasn’t so sure about that. But she suspected he wouldn’t quit asking until she agreed. They could be broken up but still stay friends, right? Might as well prove to herself that she could do this now. It would only get harder later. “Let me put my cat up.”
“He still giving you trouble?”
“Got him eating out of the palm of my hand.”
Trent grinned. “Way I hear it, he’s eating your hand.”
“Thin ice, Airball.”
She could’ve sworn the twinkle in his eyes matched the beat of her clock. “I’ll wait out front,” he said.
Ten minutes later, they pulled up outside Louie’s. It was a few blocks down from Ruby’s place and had the same run-down feel to it, but the food was good. In a show of trust, Trent let Maddie stay in the truck while he ran in to pick up the pizza.
Three minutes later, he slid back into the driver’s seat and handed Maddie a couple of boxes. She peeked in the top one.
Green peppers and pineapple. Deep dish.
The guy was good. “Which one of my brothers do I have to beat for this?” Her money was on Simon. Parker was smarter than to help Trent out.
Trent brushed his thumb over her ear, his fingers dancing through her hair and along her scalp in a caress that pushed her priorities a little further back. “How about you enjoy yourself and worry about that later.”
“I suspect I’m going to hate you later.”
It really was good to see him smiling like that again. “Takes a lot of love to hate somebody,” he said.
“Oh, God, you’ve been talking to my father.”
“That a bad thing?”
“You’re using my family against me. What do you think?”
The engine roared to life, and Maddie suppressed a shiver. The truck smelled like melted cheese and Trent.
Lethal combination.
He shifted into gear, an amused grin playing on his lips.
Jerk knew what he was doing to her. She straightened in her seat and stared out the window at the empty shops surrounding Louie’s. She’d gotten used to the vacant feel of downtown, but thinking about raising kids here was starting to make her sad. She hoped Simon turned the town around.
“You and Gina gonna make a MisterGoodEnoughJunior.com?” Trent asked. “Bernice was up in arms in there over your corrupting her niece.”
She tried to ignore the warm fuzzies at the thought that he was talking to people about her. “Doubtful. Sarah Jo asked us to a while back so they could use it as a Student Council fund-raiser at the high school, but it’s not a top priority right now.”
“Internet dating as a fund-raiser in high school? How old are those kids?”
She laughed, and some of her tension eased. “Chill out, old man. Don’t you remember filling out those surveys in homeroom and paying a couple of bucks a few weeks later to see who you were most compatible with? They did it every year, the only thing that changed was the company they used.”
“No, I—wait. Yeah, that sounds familiar.” His face twisted into a frown, but then a soft smile curved his lips. “Yeah, I remember.”
She rolled her eyes. “Oh, jeez. Who were you paired with?”
“I don’t think I ever picked mine up.”
Maddie’s cheeks were hot again. “And you expect me to believe you didn’t have a handful of girls waving their results at you?”
He glanced at her, warm affection playing across his face. “Didn’t put too much stock in it after the first one.”
She didn’t want to know but she couldn’t help asking. “Who?”
He chuckled and shook his head.
“Who?”
“Andi.”
“Nuh-uh.”
“Swear on her ashes.” He hitched a shoulder. “She was pretty amused. Who’d you match up with?”
Half of the basketball team. “All that matters is it was horrific. I wouldn’t do that to any kid.”
“Got some real losers, huh?”
“Yep. Real losers.”
“How high up there was I?”
Way high up there. Couldn’t get any higher. She sighed and patted his leg, then instantly sprang back. Solid Trent thigh was nothing to be playing with. She gulped. “There’s that ego again. Better watch it, or your head won’t fit out the door.”
His grin widened. “Nothing to be embarrassed about. You wanted what every girl wanted. A strong, handsome, capable guy who’d look good next to you and make you the envy of every other girl in school.”
“Thank God I’ve learned better.”
“You keep telling yourself that.”
She’d been trying all week, but it generally left her cranky and irritable. Maybe she needed to get laid.
A sudden image of him licking pizza sauce off her breasts popped into her head, and her mouth went dry.
“Where are we going?” she finally managed to ask, because she certainly wasn’t going to ask, “What did you want to show me?”
She had too many bad ideas of what she’d like to see already.
“Quiet little place I know.”
Her toes curled. She was in so much trouble. “You know you’re not doing either of us any favors.”
A muscle in his cheek twitched, but he didn’t take his eyes from the road. “We’ll see about that.”
Shortly after they left town limits, Trent turned off onto a dirt path through a small patch of woods. He slowed the truck, expertly steering it around ruts and potholes, and eventually a modest ranch-style house came into view. It was rundown and broken, and a large Dumpster sat in the front yard. Surprised, she glanced over at him. “You grew up here.”
He nodded, but he didn’t stop the truck. He kept going beyond the gravel driveway to the back. The private, secluded, wooded back.
Maddie’s belly tightened. And that was before she saw the yard.
Purple crepe streamers were twirled and draped over trees and the porch, secured with bunches of purple balloons. A small card table with a purple tablecloth stood lopsided in the barren yard. Instead of flowers, there was a bouquet of purple pinwheels spinning lazily.
Trent pulled a small, older-model iPod out of his pocket and plugged it into the truck stereo.
Maddie swallowed the lump in her throat. “You sure you know how to use that thing?”
He hit play, and the first few notes of LeAnn Rimes’s “How Do I Live” echoed inside the truck.
Her class song. A private party. Cheesy bread.
She was a goner.
He tucked her hand into his and leaned into her. “Maddie,” he whispered, “will you go to prom with me?”
He smelled like sweat and roof tar, and even though she knew he couldn’t give her the future she wanted, she rested her head on his shoulder and breathed him in. She couldn’t help herself.
He was all she’d ever wanted, and this was probably her last chance to be close to him. If she stayed here with him, she’d spend the rest of her life knowing exactly what she’d given up.
She wasn’t sure she was strong enough to handle that. “I’m not putting out just because we’re at prom.”
Trent lifted her chin so she was staring right into those sea green eyes. “I don’t want you to put out, and I’m not interested in getting laid. What I want is to make love with you, long and slow and deep, all afternoon.”
A heated rush of yearning prickled her nipples and made her thighs clench. “I have a date next week.”
“That’s next week. This is now. You wanna dance?”
Why did he have to know how to do everything right? She slunk back and crossed her arms over her chest. “No.”
He studied her for a minute. “Yes, you do.”
She started to argue, but found all that did was make her feel like a slug. Her lower lip trembled. “You deserve better than this.”
His thumb rubbed in a slow circle over her palm. “So give me a real chance.”
She thrust her hand through her hair. “Trent, I’m serious. Whatever this is between us, it can’t go anywhere. I want kids. I want a family. It’s not as if we’re debating getting a gerbil here.”
“Why?”
She gaped at him. “Are you serious?”
He gave her knee a gentle squeeze. “We can’t work this out if I don’t understand why.”
She sunk into the leather seat and regarded him curiously. How could he not understand that she just did? That it was a biological necessity, that the thought of not having children, of not leaving a mark on the world through the next generation, made her feel like a complete failure? “Wanting kids is a part of who I am. I may not look like the most maternal person in the world, but I know in my heart I was born to be a mother.”
“Do they have to be yours?”
Her fingers shook inside his. “I—I don’t know.” She could see green-eyed, blond-haired boys tramping around her backyard, sword-fighting with sticks in the summer, flinging snowballs at each other in the winter, weaseling their way out of chores and getting away with it when they grinned at her like their father. The thought of never having them, of denying them a chance at life, made her heart hurt. But to give a home to a kid who didn’t have anyone else, that was special. “Maybe not all of them.”
A corner of his lips hitched up. “How many are we talking here, Maddie?”
Four. Just like her parents had. “I don’t know. You’d be okay with adopting kids?”
His smile disappeared. “It’s not something I would’ve considered before.”
“But you would for me.”
His forehead creased. “Haven’t had much in the way of a good example,” he said softly. “Scares the piss out of me, to be honest. I’d probably screw it up more than I’d get it right. But I can’t ask to be part of your life if we both can’t find a way to be happy, and if that’s what it takes for you to give me a chance, then yeah, for you, I’d consider it.”
The pizza boxes slid to the floor as she reached up to cradle his cheek. He’d change his life for her. To be with her. How could she resist that? She released her seat belt and leaned into him, lips parted, eyes wide open, and kissed him like she’d wanted to for half of her life.
He lifted her off her seat and pulled her closer. His mouth closed over hers, pulling, pleading, giving. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, but she wrapped herself around him as much as the tight confines of the truck allowed, kissing him back and feeling his skin, his muscles, his heart pounding as fast as hers, his cheeks like fine sandpaper, all of him absolutely perfect.
His hands roamed over her back, down her thighs, lordy, up her shirt, in her hair. He pulled back and broke the kiss, but then he pressed his lips against her jaw, down her neck, pulled her closer to cradle her against him. She struggled to catch her breath, all the new sensations of his body, the rhythm of his breathing, everything mixing together like a wonderfully intoxicating dream.
He nuzzled her neck. “Now will you dance with me?”
They danced, they ate, they laughed, and they kissed. Then kissed some more. They kissed all the way to the bed of the truck, pulling each other along and shedding their shirts as if it were the height of August instead of a cool October afternoon.
His skin was hot beneath her fingers, the muscles in his abdomen taut. She skimmed her fingers over the springy hair on his chest, over the tight nubs of his nipples, along the hard ridges of bone in his rib cage, then followed with her tongue, tasting, exploring him as he gasped her name.
He helped her up into the truck, then followed on his hands and knees. She reached for him, wanting to feel his skin against hers again, to rub herself all over his body and memorize every perfect inch of him. His hands grasped at her waist, then traveled higher as she pressed into him.
Trent unclasped her bra, then slid his fingers between her breasts and the cotton to pull the material off. His hands roamed over her, circling, cupping, rubbing, setting her skin on fire and sending a jolt of wet need straight between her thighs. Oh, God, don’t stop. She pushed up into his touch as she rocked against his erection. She’d done that. She’d turned him on, and she would make sure every cell in his body was satisfied this afternoon. Just as she found her rhythm, Trent shifted and pushed her onto her back, his mouth still clamped around hers as his tongue slid in her mouth, curling her toes and making her ache for more in the deepest parts of her body.
The truck bed was hard beneath her and her head bumped the toolbox, but as long as he was kissing her and touching her, as long as he kept making those rumbly noises in the back of his throat every time she dug her fingers into his flesh, she didn’t care where she was. She didn’t even care that she wasn’t on top.
Excitement rolled through her belly as Trent dipped his fingers beneath the waistband of her pants. She shifted her head, turning the angle of the kiss and raking her fingers down his back and copying his movements, giving him permission with her entire body to do anything he wanted, as long as she could do the same. But despite having one leg hooked over his hips while he balanced on top of her, she hadn’t found that spot she wanted yet, wasn’t close enough to him.
Trent let out a groan and surged his hips into hers as she struggled to push his cotton underwear out of the way. “Off,” she whispered. “Take them off.”
He produced a condom and she shimmied out of her own pants and underwear.
His eyes were dark as he gazed down on her, his focus sharp as his chest rose and fell faster than her own. “God, Maddie.”
His hands roamed her body, his fingers doing tricks that made her go cross-eyed. The thick need between her legs ached so much to take him into her body, she nearly cried out. Instead, she gripped two very fine butt cheeks and pulled him close. He kissed her, and she took the condom from him. While he balanced over her, she tore open the condom and rolled it down his erection, then hooked her legs around his hips and pulled.
He thrust into her hard and fast, meeting her eyes with an intensity that articulated his feelings without a single word.
“More,” she whimpered. She arched up to meet him, angled her hips to take him deeper. As long as he kept thrusting, kept driving deeper and deeper, faster and harder, matching the pitter-patter of her heart and the tempo of her breathing—while he dipped his head and kissed her, his tongue mimicking for her mouth what his erection was doing for her womanhood—as long as he never stopped, she could keep floating higher and higher, higher than God, higher than Cupid, higher than anything she’d ever dared dream.
Her inner muscles clenched and spasmed around him. She cried out, her voice thick and heavy as it reverberated around the small clearing. His own answering call was foreign but perfect in her ears as she drifted back to earth and he collapsed on top of her, his chest heaving as he nuzzled the crook of her neck. She wrapped her arms around him and didn’t care that he was heavy. She just wanted him.
She lay there with him, happy and peaceful and completely satisfied. He felt right, as though she’d finally been given what she’d waited for her whole life. As if everything that had ever happened to each of them had led up to this one perfect moment.
But then he started shaking.
She tensed up. “Trent?”
He snickered.
He was laughing? She tried to twist away, to see his face, but he gripped her tighter. “It’s okay,” he said between chuckles. “It’s okay, Mad. Everything’s perfect.”
Being laughed at didn’t feel perfect. She pushed at him. “Sure. Whatever.” Maybe for him. Maybe this was all he’d wanted all along. For her to be easy and pliable for once.
Jackass had promised her kids just so he could get laid.