11

Maddox had just finished unloading his groceries when that text came in. Although he’d been at New Horizons in the morning, there was a construction crew there this afternoon, finishing the baseboard and some other details in the conference room down the hall, so he’d left to take care of a few of life’s other necessities. But he should’ve stayed at the school. Then he wouldn’t have bumped into Jada’s mom, who’d given him such a baleful glare he still felt scorched by it.

He left the rest of his groceries on the table as he sat down and considered his new message from the unfamiliar number. At least it felt friendly. “Shows you how pathetic my social life is right now that I’d be excited by this,” he muttered as he considered his response.

He got up and finished stocking his cupboards, but there was nothing waiting for him when he finished. Apparently, his secret admirer wasn’t going to state his or her name. He’d have to figure out who was texting him using other questions.

The answer came right away. Do you get hit on by a lot of men? Lol.

He smiled, which felt good after what he’d experienced at the store. He knew he shouldn’t let what the Brookses felt toward him bring him down, but he couldn’t help it. There’ve been a few. I have nothing against gay people, but I’m not gay, so it’s kind of important to establish that in the beginning.

“Surely, you contacted me for a reason,” he said to himself but wrote, Is this meant to go anywhere?

Maddox felt his eyebrows go up. Definitely more intrigued by the second subject. Especially because he’d gone from being well liked where he lived in Utah to being anathema after coming back to Silver Springs. But do you even know me?

He scratched his head. I have, but I’m new to the area, so I don’t have much of a social life at the moment. I would guess this has to be spurred by something recent.

Online? Is that the best you can do? He hoped this wasn’t one of his mother’s friends, hitting on him. The idea of that made him cringe. But he was bored and lonely enough to see how it played out. Whoever it was had him intrigued by her approach.

He blew out a breath. Was there a reason she was concealing her true identity? Or was it just a fresh way to get to know someone?

If so, he had to admit she’d incited his curiosity. Can we establish some parameters to make me feel a bit more comfortable? he wrote.

She was gone for several minutes before she wrote, Chess Online+.

He looked up the app and downloaded it before he responded. Are you good at this game?

Damn. No clues there. What do you do for a living?

At this, Maddox laughed out loud, which felt damn good after how crappy he’d been feeling when he returned from the store. Telling me you want me isn’t bold if you won’t also say who you are.

The possibility was tantalizing...

He was about to ask if she’d give him a clue as to where they might’ve met when she wrote, I’ve got to go. But it’s your move.

He opened his new chess app to see that she’d named herself MysteryWoman23 and started a game.

As Jada served the small family who’d just walked into the cookie shop—tourists from Arizona, they said—she couldn’t quit thinking about her exchange with Maddox. It had been reckless of her to text him in the first place. She knew that. To keep it going was begging for disaster. But after hearing about her mother’s encounter with him at the grocery store, she’d felt she had to do something to make sure he understood he wasn’t universally hated in Silver Springs. She couldn’t imagine how hard it would be to face the history he had here, even for the sake of a good job, and she admired him for having the courage to come back and apologize.

Since she couldn’t tell him those things—or anything else—as herself, she’d done the next best thing. But the problem with being anonymous was that it made her feel safe to reveal her true desires, which could turn into a costly mistake if he ever figured out who she was.

She worried about that, but Aiyana didn’t have her cell phone number. Neither did Eli or Gavin or anybody else who worked at New Horizons. In Silver Springs, only Tiffany, her family and a few old friends could give her away, and what were the chances Maddox would approach one of those people? He wasn’t the type to run around asking if anyone recognized the number of the woman who was texting him. She was pretty sure he’d wait for her to reveal herself. No doubt he expected her to, at some point; he didn’t know she couldn’t.

But being found out wasn’t the only danger. Any interaction with him made her crave more.

After she boxed up a dozen cookies and wished her latest patrons a good day, she ignored her concerns and took out her phone again. She was eager—more eager than she should be—to get back to him.

Like her, he’d moved the pawn in front of his queen forward two spaces.

She loved chess, used to play the computer all the time. When Maya had been little and Eric had been working such long hours, she’d needed something to entertain herself. But once she’d started her social media business five years ago, she’d been too busy to play. She hoped her skill at the game would come back as she moved her second pawn.

The chess game had a message feature, which he’d just used.

Her chest constricted. My father taught me. The same father who’d feel betrayed that she was even in contact with him.

Was. But she wasn’t going to give him even that much information. No.

She wondered where he was. At his rental house on Uriah Lamb’s orchard? She didn’t ask, but nothing interrupted their game, so she knew he was somewhere he felt free to do as he pleased. They played straight through the next hour and a half before he won.

Glad I didn’t put any money on that one, she wrote him.

At least you gave me a challenge, he responded.

Instead of answering, he started a new game, but the bell went off over the door before she could make her first move.

Jada slid her phone in her back pocket as Maya came in wearing a sundress over her swimsuit, her hair tangled from having been wet. “What are you doing back? I thought I was supposed to pick you up after I close the shop.”

“Annie’s parents just took us to get a hamburger, so I had them drop me off. I didn’t want you to have to close up alone. You’re always working.” She offered Jada some of her ice cream shake. “Oreo cookie.”

It was nice of Maya to be concerned about her. Jada smiled as she accepted the shake and took a sip, but she was sort of sad she was no longer able to play chess. Her head was completely filled with Maddox—both with memories of the past and the desire to see him again. She felt slightly breathless at the thought of him, like a giddy teenager.

Fortunately, all that began to dissipate as they talked and laughed about Annie’s older brother and his friend getting caught sneaking out the night before. By the time they’d boxed up the remaining cookies and cleaned, Jada felt more like her normal self, more like the responsible mother and dutiful daughter and sister she was trying to be. But then she went into the bathroom to let Maddox know she wouldn’t be able to play for a few hours, and the second she saw he had a message waiting for her, the attraction she felt reared up again.

She stared at those four words. They’d lost each other, which was the greatest sadness of her life. What might’ve happened between them if Tobias hadn’t shot Atticus?

Maybe there was nothing to feel bad about. Maybe she and Maddox would’ve drifted apart, regardless. They’d been so young.

He didn’t mean it like that, anyway.

She had a good reason for that. But why was she still bothering? Where did she expect this to go?

Nowhere. She was just trying to fulfill her craving for him in the only “safe” way she could—even though, in her more honest moments, she knew that “safety” could be an illusion.

Mustering her self-control, she typed her reply. Would you rather I leave you alone?

She held her breath as she awaited his response. She was praying he’d say yes. She needed something to stop her from contacting him since she didn’t seem capable of stopping on her own.

And yet she was infinitely relieved when she received his answer.

Good, because I’d give almost anything to be able to taste you right now, to run my lips up your warm neck and find those perfect lips. Her pulse was racing as she stared down at those words, but something inside her dared her to send it, and she pressed the button before she could chicken out.

You have me so confused, he wrote back. How do we know each other? Are you from Utah?

She thought it over, couldn’t see any danger in admitting that much. He’d never in a million years think it was her, especially after all the things she’d said about wanting him.

His answer was immediate. It’s fine for you to stay in touch.

“Mom? You about done in there?” Maya yelled.

“Be right out,” she called back.

You’re getting better, by the way, he wrote.

“Mom?”

Despite Maya’s impatience, she hesitated when she saw his response. At?

Lol! You have no idea what I’d like to say and do to you, she responded and shoved her phone in her pocket before leaving the bathroom.

That night, Maddox kept checking his phone. He was hoping he’d hear back from MysteryWoman23, or that she’d at least pick up the game of chess he’d started. With his brother getting out of prison on Monday and his mother doing drugs again, he needed the distraction. Jill kept calling him, drunk off her ass—or high, he couldn’t figure out which—and telling him he was a good boy, that she loved him, that it wasn’t his fault Tobias was in prison. And then she’d get maudlin and cry about the fact that she’d let them both down as a mother, and he’d have to tell her to get off whatever she was on and call him when she could speak more coherently.

He received a text from Paris, asking what he was doing tonight, which he didn’t answer, but he didn’t hear from his new chess partner. He didn’t hear from her on Wednesday, Thursday or Friday, either.

It was Saturday afternoon when he was doing laundry and cleaning house that he finally decided to text her. She’d come on pretty strong to back off that quickly. He felt he was justified in asking her what had happened.

That’s bullshit, he wrote. You don’t want me badly enough if you won’t even tell me your name.

When she didn’t write back, he regretted answering so sharply. Forget it, he wrote a few minutes later. I’m just in a bad mood. I’ll leave you alone. It’s not like you owe me anything. I don’t even know who you are.

“You’re pathetic,” he muttered to himself as he shoved his phone halfway across the table.

But then he heard a ding, knew she’d sent a reply and couldn’t resist getting up to see what it was.

He almost ignored that and went on about his business. But this person provided him with someone to talk to, and because he didn’t know who she was, didn’t have to face her in his regular life, he didn’t have to worry about what she might think. Besides the fact that my brother gets out of prison on Monday, after being shut up for thirteen years, and I have no idea if he’ll be able to acclimate? Or that my mother’s back on meth or crack or something, and I have no idea whether to try to get her into another rehab facility or just let her live her life since rehab never works for her, anyway?

Were you already aware that my brother was in prison? How well did she know him?

Maddox grimaced. Of course that would be the next logical question. He’d been a fool to take the conversation in that direction. On second thought, I don’t want to talk about it. He’d already driven past the alley where Jada parked when she was at the store three times today. He didn’t need to be reminded of her or what’d happened back then.

That she’d used his name made the statement much more personal. What is?

Nothing.

Come over. Let’s meet. I’ll make you dinner. No matter who she was, he figured he could tolerate one meal.

That was hardly a commitment. You have nothing to worry about with me, no reason to hide.

No response.

He finished cleaning and watched a football game he’d recorded earlier. He wasn’t sure he’d really hear back from her, not after her recent withdrawal, but he did. She didn’t text him again but, at 10:20, she finally made a move on the game he’d started Tuesday.

You kept the appointment, he wrote.

They played for nearly two hours before he managed to capture her king.

Damn it, she wrote when she lost. I thought I had you this time.

He typed in his address. When should I expect you? I’ll throw a couple of steaks on the grill, if you like.

She didn’t respond. He waited ten minutes, fifteen, thirty.

A quick rap at his door caused him to straighten in surprise. What the heck? It was nearly midnight. Had MysteryWoman23 decided to come over immediately?

He set his phone on the coffee table before striding to the door, which he swung open. But there wasn’t anyone on the stoop. Instead, he found a homemade hot apple pie on his doorstep.

She’d been there, and he’d missed her!

He jumped over the pie and ran down the dirt lane past Uriah’s house. She had to be close; she’d just knocked. But he couldn’t find anyone, couldn’t see any taillights heading away from the orchard, either.

“Shit,” he cursed as he trudged back to get the pie and his phone.

He’d finally heard back from her. I didn’t renege. I made you a pie. Hope you like it. ;-)

Would he want to stop? He was beginning to get the feeling he wouldn’t... At least I got a consolation prize.

After he ate a piece, he realized it was a better consolation prize than he’d expected.

He wasn’t sure what was going on. It was so strange. But he liked this woman so far, enough that after pacing back and forth for several minutes, he decided to give her a call. She was the one who’d provided her number, after all, by texting him. If she hadn’t wanted him to have it, she shouldn’t have done that.

He put the rest of the pie in the fridge as MysteryWoman23’s phone began to ring.