Gabby woke up to the sun streaming through a window and searing into her eyes. She immediately closed them tight. And as last night came back to her in a technicolor movie-like reel, she groaned. She might have been drunk last night and she was definitely hungover this morning, but she remembered every detail.
She’d been mauled by Preston at her parents’ party, rushed from the house, and ended up at The Back Door where a nice bartender named Cal served her drinks and then he showed up. The man who’d brought her to his house because she’d refused to give him her parents’ address. After consoling herself with the fact that at least she hadn’t thrown up in his car, she forced her eyelids open and blinked into the sun.
She took stock. The headache was to be expected. No nausea, thank God. And she was still in her dress from last night while her shoes were on the floor by the bed. The hot bartender, Maddox, she remembered, hadn’t taken advantage of her. He’d brought her home and taken care of her, making him a decent guy.
There was an old-fashioned shade on the window which hadn’t been rolled down, explaining her bright wakeup call. She looked around and saw bare walls with holes where picture hooks had once been, faded rectangles where pictures once stood.
On the nightstand, she was surprised to find a tall glass of water and two ibuprofen. She was touched by the thoughtful gesture from a stranger whose hospitality she was already taking advantage of, and very grateful. She sat up, immediately swallowing the pills and downing the entire glass of water. With a little luck, between this and some food, she’d get rid of the pounding headache. Once she had a clear head, she’d be able to figure out what to do next.
She swung her legs over the side of the bed and looked around, noticing her purse on the wooden dresser across from her. Her phone was inside it and she wasn’t ready to see the dozens of messages her mother had probably left. Still, she wasn’t a procrastinator and decided it was better to know what awaited her. She retrieved her cell and turned it on, wincing at the text messages, missed calls, and voicemails.
A quick scroll through revealed her mother was furious that she’d embarrassed the family by leaving, her grandmother urged her to check in, and Preston informed her she’d had her fun and it was time to come home and face up to her responsibilities. Asshole.
She left her phone on the dresser with her purse and walked into the hall, finding a bathroom across from the room where she’d slept. Once she was inside and locked the door, she saw he’d left her a toothbrush, toothpaste, and towels on the counter, along with what looked like one of his t-shirts.
She blew out a long breath, wondering how she’d gotten so lucky to find a good guy in her drunken state. The bathroom was basic. The toilet was a standard and the sink white porcelain with a small two-door wood vanity. She turned on the shower water, adjusted the temperature, undressed and stepped under the warm spray. There was soap along with generic bottles of shampoo and conditioner, and she gratefully used them all. A little while later, she stepped out of the bathroom feeling clean and refreshed and wearing a soft tee-shirt that fell to her knees, and yesterday’s underwear she’d turned inside out. She stopped in her room to take a hair tie out of her bag and pull her long hair into a messy bun on top of her head.
She glanced in the mirror. Her cheeks were pink from drinking and her eyes a little glassy but without access to makeup, there wasn’t much more she could do. Last night, she’d made a fool of herself, and she had to face the bartender and see whether he was as good looking as she remembered. Or if she’d been viewing him through a drunken lens.
The house didn’t appear to be big and it was definitely under renovation. As she made her way to the kitchen, she noticed the walls in the large family room had been primed but only one was painted and there was furniture, a mahogany-colored leather sofa and matching club chair and a large steamer-trunk as a cocktail table. No knickknacks, nothing giving the place a homey feel. She walked toward what she assumed was the kitchen, glancing out the sliding glass doors as she passed. The patio was also being worked on, the dirt outside having been dug up and most of the old bluestone removed except for a few square stones providing a walking path to the sandy area behind it.
She stopped in the kitchen entry, taking in the obviously new, stainless-steel appliances, a swirled mix of gray, white, and black granite countertops, and a weathered wood tile on the floor in a steel gray. It was masculine and very much like the man she remembered meeting last night.
Speaking of her host, he stood in front of the sink, looking out a window. With no shirt, a pair of black track pants rode low on his hips. Defined muscles were visible in his upper back, tapering down to a lean waist. From behind, he was an extremely hot man and she swallowed hard, and wrong, and began to cough and choke on her own saliva.
He turned at the sound, his gaze landing on her. She blinked and tears dripped down her face as she struggled to catch her breath while taking in the hotness before her. No drunken goggles for her. The man was the perfect male specimen, his dark hair tousled from sleep, his brown eyes warm, and his tanned body a picture of muscled goodness with a tattoo on one shoulder.
His eyes softened in concern. “You okay?”
She nodded and swiped at the wetness on her cheeks. “Swallowed wrong.”
Once she stopped coughing, his gaze drifted from her face, traveling down her body. She might not have a ton of experience but his eyes definitely heated and she glanced down to find her nipples poking through her thin cotton tee. His T-shirt. Embarrassed, she folded her arms across her chest and he immediately turned away.
He took a few steps to the fridge, pulled out a carton, grabbed a glass from a cabinet and poured orange juice into the cup. “Here.”
Grateful, she accepted the drink and took a long sip, keeping her body angled away from him. She drank, waiting to be sure she wouldn’t choke again before answering. “Thank you. And thanks for…bringing me back here, leaving me water and something for my head. Just…everything.”
“Wasn’t like you gave me a choice,” he said in a wry tone and her cheeks heated with more embarrassment.
She hadn’t given him her parents’ address but she couldn’t say she was sorry. “Well, I appreciate it.”
He studied her intently, as if trying to figure her out. She was aware of him now firmly keeping his eyes on her face and she relaxed. If he found her attractive, she definitely returned the sentiment but she’d rather have more coverage while talking to him.
“Hungry?” he asked. “I have bagels.” He gestured to the counter where a bag of varied flavors sat. “Butter and cream cheese are in the fridge.”
She nodded. “Thank you.”
She walked past him and set about choosing her bagel, a cinnamon raisin, and taking a tub of cream cheese from the refrigerator. “Want one?”
“I already ate.”
She shrugged. Making herself at home wasn’t easy but she did her best, toasting and making her bagel, pouring a cup of coffee from the pot that he’d already made, and sitting down at the small kitchen table with him leaning against the counter, watching her the entire time. He was respectful, keeping his gaze off her chest but she noticed him taking in her tanned legs and she thought she heard a hum of approval before he cleared his throat and glanced out the window.
“So your house is being renovated?” she asked as she took a bite of her bagel.
He cocked an eyebrow at her interest. “Yeah.”
“I like it here. It’s cozy. I mean, except for the lack of pictures and…feminine touches.” Yes, she was hinting for an answer as to whether he had a girlfriend.
He frowned in confusion. “Why the hell would I have feminine touches?”
She shrugged. “Your girlfriend likes the sparse décor?” Yes, she was curious and digging for information. He might be a touch grumpy, but she couldn’t deny the hotness factor. Nobody in her world looked like him.
“I don’t have a girlfriend.”
She grinned. “Interesting.” And good to know.
He exhaled an exasperated breath and ran a hand through his sexy, somewhat long hair. “Look, can you just finish up so I can take you to the bar to get your car and you can go home?”
She was obviously irritating him, but for some reason she liked getting under his skin. He might not want her here but from the way he’d looked at her, he wasn’t immune.
“I’m not going home. Not while my parents are giving the asshole access to the house and by default, to me.”
His sigh told her he understood but his next words were, “Well you can’t stay here,” he said gruffly.
She slowly put the bagel onto the plate, considering her options. All the hotels, motels, and rentals would be booked for the summer. Her friends’ parents wouldn’t take her in out of loyalty to her mother and father, who would never believe her if she’d told them what Preston had done. People in their circle closed ranks. She knew she’d find herself on the outside, with their friends helping her parents to push her to return home.
She truly had no other options, which meant she would have to play on his sympathy and hope his kindness and hospitality continued. Okay, kindness might be stretching how he’d treated her but he had brought her here, given her a room, clean clothing and breakfast. He might be grumpy but he hadn’t turned her away. Until now.
“Look, I realize we don’t know each other but you do have an extra room. The one I slept in last night.” She’d never been so pushy but she really needed more time to figure out her life.
He shook his head. “It’s about to become a study.”
“But for now there’s still a bed.” She batted her eyelashes in a futile attempt to flirt but she’d never been any good at it.
He studied her, those chocolate brown eyes taking her in. He was good at hiding his emotions. She’d just have to be better at breaking through his walls.
* * * *
Maddox stared at his too-innocent looking guest and groaned. She gave off a guileless appearance but Gabby knew just how to work him to get what she wanted. He doubted she was evil or manipulative like many women he’d been unlucky enough to meet. Just young and desperate, which had her chipping holes in his defenses. Not that he’d show her as much.
She was adorably cute and extremely sexy in his overly long T-shirt. He wasn’t used to women wearing his clothing and seeing her in his thin tee did something for him. Her legs were lean, tanned, and he could imagine them wrapped around his waist as he backed her into a wall, kissed her hard and slid his hand beneath the hem of that shirt, stroking her wet sex to make her come. Those were the reasons he fought so hard against her staying. He could not allow himself to get involved with her. She was too young, which could mean too flighty.
But there was something about the innocence he sensed that called to him. No other woman he’d been with, especially not Felicia, who he’d dated for six months and thought he’d been falling for, had this appealing, wholesome side to her.
Felicia had been elegant and looked perfect on his arm at any event they attended, but she lacked the genuine warmth Gabby possessed. And at the very mention of him possibly resigning his job at the investment firm, she’d lost her mind, yelling, shouting, and threatening to break up with him, and that was before he’d revealed his intention to leave the rat race and move here.
No sooner had she reacted, than he’d known he had to end things. Learning she wasn’t in love with him but with his status had been a blow, but at least he’d walked away with his dignity intact. Only with hindsight had he realized he’d liked similar things about her, how they fit together for business and yes, the sex had been good. As shallow as he’d discovered the relationship had been, the road to getting over her still hadn’t been easy.
His temporary houseguest already evoked protective emotions and those feelings made him weak. If she stayed, he might give in and he refused to fall for the poor little rich girl. One who could decide to run back to her rich family and leave him alone to pick up the pieces. Been there, done that. He didn’t care for a repeat.
“Maddox?” Gabby waved a hand in front of his face. “Are you listening?”
He groaned, aware he’d been lost in thought for way too long. “Look, you don’t have to go home but you can’t stay here.” It had been hard enough to sleep knowing she was a short distance away in his study, on the bed his brother had used while he’d lived here. Maddox’s shower had consisted of jerking off to thoughts of Gabby and being too pissed off at himself to fall asleep after. “How about we get dressed, drive over to the bar and you can figure something out?”
She shook her head. “I already thought things through. Everything around here is booked in the summer, rentals included. I’m not going back to the city. My parents will follow. And I am not going to their summer home so my mother can push her agenda, forcing me to hang around with that rich, handsy loser, Preston Barrett, III, thinking I’ll agree to marry him.”
“You said Preston Barrett?” Maddox knew that name.
“The third.” She wrinkled her nose in distaste.
He agreed with her assessment of the prick her parents wanted her to marry. He knew him too well.
“You know him?” she asked, her eyes wide in surprise.
He couldn’t prevent the half smile from lifting his lips. He hadn’t planned on revealing anything personal but with this common connection, he couldn’t hold back. “If I told you before I managed The Back Door I was a money manager in the city, would you believe me?”
“Why wouldn’t I?” she asked without hesitation. “It just makes me want to know what made you move here and change your whole life.”
He blinked, surprised at her nonjudgmental reaction. Even his parents, who loved him with everything in them, wondered if he’d lost his mind when he’d made the choice. In the end, they’d supported him and were grateful that he was happy again.
He didn’t reply to her question. “So I know the Barretts because I worked at Barrett Senior’s financial firm.”
“Aah. So you know the slime is inherited?” She grinned and he wanted nothing more than to kiss those lips.
He nodded. “Preston came in thinking he was above the existing partners because of his family name. He cornered more than one receptionist, sending them running to HR only to find nobody would write up the owner’s son.” It was just one of the many reasons that world wasn’t for him.
“That’s awful,” Gabby whispered, obviously putting herself in the place of those women.
“You defended yourself against him. As for me, I saw him in action, then backed up my assistant’s accusation. I put it in writing, but I assume Senior buried the claims. She left the firm when I did. You’re doing the right thing, getting away from him.”
And shame on her parents for thinking the entitled young bastard with the wandering hands was good enough for their daughter. And there were those possessive instincts firing up again. Ones he’d never felt for a female in his life, except for his mother.
“Thank you for saying that.” Gabby smiled. “So you see why I’m not going home to deal with my family or Preston.” She squared her shoulders, obviously preparing for an argument.
Oh, she was good. Using his disgust with Barrett as a way to change his mind about her staying. He ground his teeth so hard he was surprised he didn’t chip a molar. Because there was no way Maddox would send her back to the pit of vipers she came from.
“Fine. You can stay here.” He’d just have to take an extra cold shower a day.
Her eyes opened wide, a big smile pulling at her mouth. “Really?”
He held up a hand. “For a little while. Just until you figure out your next move.”
“Thank you!” Ignoring the last bite of her breakfast, she jumped up from her seat. Next thing he knew, she’d wrapped herself around him, hugging him tight. “I’m so grateful. You’ve been a life saver from the moment we met.”
He found himself surrounded by her warm body, soft curves and the fragrance of the generic shampoo and soap in the shower. Her bland scent did nothing to calm his desire or arousal because he’d already inhaled her strawberry scent when he’d carried her to bed last night. The sweet smell lingered in his memory and his body reacted to everything about her, his cock growing harder.
She didn’t let go and he reached up, gripping her wrists with every intention of unwinding her limbs from around his neck. Anything to create distance between them before he did something he would regret.
Taking his cue, her arms drifted to her sides, but she didn’t step back. Oh, no. Not the woman who had trouble written all over her. Instead, she tilted her head and met his gaze. Her emerald eyes glittered like precious jewels, a combination of desire and naughtiness in her expression. “You try really hard to hide it but you’re a nice guy, Maddox. Thank you.”
His name on her lips was his undoing. He took in her half-lidded gaze and natural, pink puckered mouth and when she rose on to her tiptoes, he shoved all rational thought aside and dipped his head to steal a taste. She was all in, her kiss eager but inexperienced, solidifying the innocence he’d sensed from the minute he’d laid eyes on her. Instead of being a turn-off, it only made him want her more.
He slid his tongue further into her mouth and she met him with a greedy passion he wouldn’t have thought her capable of. And fuck, she tasted good, like strawberry cream cheese and coffee, and everything sweet. He wasn’t used to sweet and wanted more. Gripping the back of her neck, he held her in place, devouring her mouth.
Her little moans were hot and when she began to press her body into his, he was shocked he didn’t come in his pants. He’d never had such an explosive first kiss. On that thought, reality came back with a jarring thud.
He lifted his head and took a step back, needing the distance. He ended things before he said screw it, laid her out on the kitchen table and made a feast of her sweet body. She blinked up at him, her dark lashes fluttering over her eyes and he held onto her forearms, making certain she was steady on her feet.
“This was a bad idea,” he said, releasing her.
“What was?” Her tongue swiped over her damp lower lip and he stifled a groan.
“Us. This. You and me.” He gestured back and forth between them. “If you’re going to stay here, it’s hands off.”
“Lips too?” she asked.
There was no need for a reply, so he pinned her with his gaze until she looked away, then folded her arms across her chest in a protective measure. She still pulled in deep inhales, attempting to catch her breath from their kiss. And the flush in her cheeks could have been from arousal but he had a feeling she was also embarrassed he’d pushed her away.
Dammit. He felt bad but even if she wasn’t going to be his houseguest, they couldn’t get involved.
“Why does it have to be hands off?” she asked, surprising him.
She was pushy. Brave. And he admired those qualities. “For many reasons, not the least of which is I’m ten years older than you.”
For another, she could grow bored of him and his minimalistic lifestyle compared to the wealth she’d grown up with. And though she might not want Preston the douche, he had no doubt she would want marriage, kids, and everything he’d decided against after his relationship with Felicia went up in flames. Gabby didn’t need someone who had a decade of life experience on her, and who’d walked away from the wealth she’d grown up with and no doubt would go back to. Eventually.
She pursed her lips and stopped arguing or asking questions.
Both things put him on edge. One thing he’d already learned, she didn’t give up easily. “So we’re on the same page? This…we…aren’t happening?” He needed her to agree.
“Fine.” Her lips pursed but she remained silent.
He narrowed his gaze, waiting for another argument. When he didn’t get one, he let out a relieved breath. “Good. Get ready. We’ll go to the bar and you can drive your car back here.”
She treated him to a salute.
Smart ass, he thought, unable to hold back a grin.
She paused by the table and began to clean up her breakfast, putting the food back in the fridge, and washing her dish and coffee mug in the sink. He had no doubt she’d grown up with help so this display impressed him. Felicia had always left hers in the sink for him to clean.
Without a word, Gabby strode out of the kitchen, leaving him to watch her hips sway as she made her exit and causing him to wonder how that ass would fit in in his palms.
“Not happening,” he reminded himself and stormed out of the room, heading to his bedroom to change.
* * * *
They were so happening, Gabby thought. No matter what Maddox said. That kiss was the most incredible thing she’d ever felt. If he thought his silly words would deter her, he didn’t know her very well. Which he didn’t. Something she hoped to correct during her stay with him.
And though she might be a little innocent…okay, very innocent, she knew he’d been as into it as she was. Her panties were soaked and she’d felt the hard ridge of his erection pulsing against her lower body, evidence of his desire. She hadn’t asked to stay because she was fascinated by the sexy bartender, but she wouldn’t lie and say it wasn’t an added bonus to avoiding her family until she’d made some life decisions.
Once back in the bedroom, she put on her dress from last night, doing her best to smooth out the wrinkles and knowing she failed. Looks like she’d be experiencing the walk of shame without the benefit of any orgasms the night before. Based on how her body responded to Maddox, she wondered how easily he could be persuaded to change his mind about them.
Not that she planned to give him her virginity, but there were other things they could do and she was pretty certain a man who looked like him was talented. She wanted to be one of the recipients of what he could surely offer her. His hard muscles tempted her, and she wanted to run her hands over his tanned skin and lick every available inch of his tattoo.
Her phone rang, causing her to jump at the unexpected sound. She glanced at the screen. She squealed, grateful for the distraction from thinking of Maddox naked and took the call. “Hi, P!”
“Hi, yourself,” her sister, Penelope said. “Grandma tells me you had quite the night. Can I ask where you are?” The concern in her tone was obvious and Gabby sighed.
“I think it’s better if I don’t tell you. Plausible deniability, you know?”
“Then tell me you’re safe.”
“Very,” Gabby assured her. Penelope was the only other person that Gabby knew supported her. “I’m staying with a…friend.”
“You don’t have any real friends in the Hamptons, Gabby. Who are you with?”
She bit down on the inside of her cheek. “A good man. I swear. You need to trust me. I know what I’m doing. I refuse to marry or even date that asshole who won’t take no for an answer.”
“What?” her sister yelled. “Did he—”
“No! I kneed him in the balls and left the house but nobody cares. Nobody but Grandma, anyway. It’s time I take a stand, P. I have goals and things I want out of life. Not only don’t our parents approve, they actively blackballed me.”
Penelope sighed. “I’m know and I’m sorry. Their reach is far. But you have your painting, and you are so talented. Your canvases are natural and evoke so many emotions. Why not try to sell your work? I have everything you’ve done stored in the basement. Nobody can take that away from you.”
Closing her eyes, Gabby agreed. “Yeah.” She needed to believe in herself to take that step.
“Five minutes and I’m leaving,” Maddox called out, his voice deep through her closed bedroom door.
“I have to go but I’ll be in touch,” Gabby told her sister.
“Okay. I’m proud of you, holding out for true love and the life you want,” Penelope said, and in her words, Gabby heard her older sister’s regrets for marrying a man her parents had chosen. “I never had your passion or courage. I am happy, I have my baby and Stu is a good man. The guy they chose for you isn’t. Stand firm, Gabby. Love you.”
Gabby swallowed over the lump in her throat. “Love you, too. Can I ask one favor?”
“Anything. You know that.”
“Call Grandma. Tell her you heard from me and I’m safe, and I’ll get in touch when I’m ready. I’m sure mom or dad is monitoring her and her phone.”
Penelope sighed. “I will if you promise to keep in touch so I know you’re safe with your new friend.”
“Promise. Talk soon.” Gabby disconnected the call. After gathering her purse and taking a quick look in the mirror, she walked out to meet Maddox.
She found him standing by the front door, jingling his keys in one hand. “Ready!”
His gaze locked on hers and he frowned as he took in her outfit.
“Yes, I’m in yesterday’s clothes,” she said, reading his mind. “I can’t go out in your shirt, so I don’t have much of a choice. But once I stop at an ATM, I can fix that. I need to pull out some cash before my father either cuts me off or empties the account.”
Though she had a trust fund given to her by her grandparents, she couldn’t access the money until she turned thirty. She could withdraw the interest that was deposited, but she couldn’t access the account in the Hamptons. Her checking account had been funded by her parents during college and until she got a job, she was stuck relying on them. Annabelle would give her money but she hated to ask, wanting to figure out a way to stand on her own two feet.
“If I remember correctly, there’s an ATM near the bar, right?” she asked.
“There is. Come on.” He opened the door and tipped his head, indicating she should walk through.
Passing him, she inhaled and was treated to his masculine scent, one she recognized as sandalwood. A warm, exotic fragrance with hints of vanilla, it was her favorite smell. Her interest in the arts and sciences were varied and she’d taken courses in fragrance making at the Fashion Institute of Technology, using trust fund money her parents couldn’t track. No way did she want to hear them complain about wasting time and money. She’d eventually settled into art history, but her memory of different scents remained clear.
And Maddox’s scent, especially when they were enclosed in his Jeep, made her want to crawl into his lap, bury her face in his neck and breathe him in for as long as he’d let her.
He remained quiet on the trip into town and she respected his obvious need for silence. She’d invaded his life enough already.
He parked behind the bar near her convertible and they both got out of Jeep. “I take it that’s yours?” He gestured to the BMW.
She nodded. “But I’ll be in town for a while. I want to do some shopping after the bank.”
He worked the house key off the holder and handed it to her. “There’s a hardware store on the corner of Main. Make yourself a copy and bring me the original when you’re through.”
Surprised, she curled her fingers around the key in his hand, sliding over the roughened callouses on his skin, so different from the smooth touch of the typical men in her life. Men who wouldn’t know a hammer from a wrench. She found a guy who worked with his hands surprisingly sexy.
Especially this man. “Thank you,” she said, clasping his hand in hers. “I know I pushed you into letting me stay and I’m truly grateful.” Before she lost her nerve, she rose to her toes and pressed a lingering kiss to his cheek before spinning on her heels and walking away.