Backstage (The Barter System Book 4) (16 page)

“Understood.” 

He winked as he went back to refill his plate.  Madeline waited until he settled across from her again and they ate in companionable silence punctuated by random observations about the theater and background operations.

A few minutes later, Mikayla emerged from the dressing room hallway and her sister watched her closely as she interacted with the caterer.  She didn’t realize her focus was obvious.

“What’s wrong?” Ezra asked quietly.

“She looks…deflated.  I don’t like it.”

“Is she okay?”

Meeting his eyes, she chose her words carefully.  “She’s not a nut.  I don’t know what this is but…she doesn’t do this.  Not ever.”

“Do what?”

“Concentrate her attention on a man.” 

“Anyone in particular who has her twisted up?” he asked casually. 

“Yes, it’s someone in particular.”  She paused, unsure how much to say.  It was a delicate situation.  “As far as I know, they’ve never met or spoken but…she feels connected or something.  It’s draining her, making her sad, moody, and off-balance.  It’s not like her.” 

He sat back and stared at her for a long moment.  She followed his gaze as it settled on Mikayla across the room.  She was pushing food around on her plate.  The effervescence that usually surrounded her was clearly absent and there was no way he missed it. 

A frown appeared between his eyes.  “How long has she been like this?”  Suddenly uncertain about talking to Ezra about her sister, she hesitated.  He turned to her.  “How
long
, Linn?”

Folding her hands in her lap, she took a breath.  “She saw the backdrops.  Came home talking a mile a minute about ‘the details’ – though she didn’t share them with me – and started baking.”  He lifted a brow.  “It’s what we do when we’re excited.” 

“That’s…adorable.”

“Oh, fuck
you
.  It’s a country thing.”  She rolled her eyes and he laughed.  “She left at midnight and hauled ass across town like Little Red Riding Hood.”  Her shoulders lifted in a shrug.  “Came back a few hours later and changed into running clothes without a word.  She’s been like this ever since.” 

His blunt fingertip tapped slowly on the top of the table but Ezra didn’t speak for almost a minute.  “She has a crush on my brother?”

“When you put it like that, she’s sounds like a pre-teen.  Shit.”

He sat forward and crossed his arms on the table.  “Absolutely
not
how I meant it.” 

“I know she’s sweet and silly, that she gives the impression of being a sorority party girl, but that isn’t who she is.  Not on the
inside
.”

“I know that, Madeline.  I do.”  His voice was gentle.  “It doesn’t seem typical for her.”

“She’s
sad
over a man she has never
met
, Ezra.  I’m worried that all the stress, the pressure of what I’ve asked her to do, is pushing her to physical and mental exhaustion.  You don’t…I can’t explain how different she is from the rest of us because it’s deeply personal to her.” 

She closed her eyes and gathered her thoughts.  When she opened them, he was waiting for her.  Not pushing, not telling her his opinion.  Simply waiting for her to tell him how he could help.

“We’ll be twenty-eight this year.  Since we were teenagers, she’s helped all of us – our brothers and me – reach our goals.  As the youngest, she said she had to take last place.” 

“I don’t understand…the play isn’t her dream?  Being an actress?”

She whispered, “No.  This is
my
dream.  Part of it anyway.  She never wanted
any
of this.”  His shock was clear and she saw his desire to know what Mikayla wanted for herself.  “I can’t tell you.  She’d never forgive me for sharing something so intimate.  I can’t.”

“Alright.  I’m floored.  She’s an incredible actress and dancer.”

“She trained for me, to be with me, so she could help when the time was right.”

“That’s…unbelievable.  She’s very dedicated to you.”

Reaching out, she put her hand over his.  “I’m not asking you to interfere because I think that would fuck things up.  Just…I don’t know.  If he ever sees a moment where he’d feel comfortable speaking to her, maybe he could give her that.  She’s not a stalker or anything.  She’s lonely and tired.  I’m her best friend, her twin, and I know she’s hurting but I don’t know why.”

Turning his palm over, he wrapped warm fingers around hers.  They sat like that, staring into one another’s eyes, not speaking.  His hands were strong and she wanted him.   

Madeline had her own pre-teen crush to deal with. 

“Like you, I can’t share too much about my brother, Madeline.  I’ll plant a few seeds.”

“Thank you, Ezra.”  She squeezed his hand and sat back.  Unsure how to change the course of the conversation, she smiled.  “Theodora made your fudge.”

The groan he released was so sexual that she pressed her thighs together in response.  “Damn it.  Let me destroy some of that.  I’ll be right back.”

Across the room, she watched Mikayla grab a water and walk deeper into the backstage area.  The way she acted, it was almost as if her sister was in
love
with a man she’d never interacted with in any way.  Bizarre, but not impossible, she supposed.

Meanwhile, Ezra ate fudge and she wanted to
devour
him.  Schooling her features, she interacted casually and thought it was probably some of her best acting work to date. 

The man was completely out of her league socially.  It wasn’t about money but connections and history.  Hers was a simple family from the middle of nowhere while his had a hand in building the original skyline of New York City. 

At this point, she’d be happy with a one-night-stand – anything to take the edge off before she developed a problem.  Much more exposure to Ezra and she’d
be
a vibrator.

No way would she be able to look her mama in the face if she didn’t get a handle on herself soon.

 

Chapter Four

 

“You misunderstood her.  Fuck!”  Isaiah slammed his hand against the doorframe.  “Drop it.”  He raked his fingers through his thick hair and stared down at the dark stage through the window.

Ezra calmly crossed his arms and leaned against the front of his desk.  He’d waited a few days, watching his own brother and Madeline’s sister to determine if their rising melancholy was somehow connected. 

It seemed
odd
that they appeared linked without ever having a single conversation.  Still, Ezra didn’t discount the fact that his brother seemed especially morose and Mikayla’s usual bright happiness appeared shuttered.

“I did
not
misunderstand the fact that Mikayla is less vibrant than usual.  I know you’ve noticed it.  Do you wonder if it has something to do with the way you avoid her when she clearly wants to meet you and introduce herself?  For god’s sake...”

“It has nothing to
do
with me!  She hasn’t even
met
me and if she did…”  His voice trailed off and Ezra’s heart clenched.  “Fucking let it
go
.”

Then his older brother walked out of the sound booth, taking the back stairs to elude anyone left in the front of the house.

“Damn.”  A slow smile spread over his face.  “He’s got it bad.”

Wrapping up a few things, he shut down the upper floor and walked down to the lobby.  He glimpsed Madeline gathering a few things from the front of the stage before returning to her small work area just beyond the curtain. 

Hands in his pockets, he debated bothering her but knew he couldn’t leave knowing she was still at the theater.  She worked ridiculous hours. 

Making his way down the aisle, he took the stairs and took in the sight of her bent over her desk.  Her thickly braided dark hair fell forward over her shoulder. 

She was quietly singing
Seasons of Love
– one of the songs from
Rent
– and tapping her bare foot.  He could have stood listening to her all night.  Jeans and a black t-shirt with “Grammar Nazi” emblazoned over the front made her look about eighteen. 

He’d never wanted a woman so much.

“Madeline?”  She jumped with a little scream and then giggled.  “I didn’t mean to scare you.  I thought you’d left for the night.”

Glancing at her watch, she sighed.  “I meant to, I really did.  I wanted to get the blocking down for the final dance scene.  The male dancer is rather…
slow
.  I’m trying to figure out a way to explain it without shaking him until his head falls off.”

Ezra laughed, unaccustomed to a woman who spoke so frankly.  It was one of the things he enjoyed most about the Johannson sisters. 

“Do you need a visual?” 

Nodding distractedly as she stared at the papers spread out over her desk, she murmured, “That would be fantastic.”

“Allow me.”  He held out his hand and she looked at him with her eyes wide.  “We took ballroom dance when we were boys.  It was part of our
full spectrum
learning.”

She grinned and moved forward to take his hand.  “I bet y’all did a lot of fancy parties.  We had barbecues and bonfires.  Two-step was the only thing you
had
to know in my town.”

The feel of her delicate fingers in his caused a strange shift in perception before the world corrected itself again. 

“As children, we were expected to dance with the grand dames who attended.  Elderly matriarchs so many would ignore, forgetting they’d once been young and loved to dance.  My mother was wondrous in how she viewed the world and the people in it.”

Looking up at him, she smiled.  “She gave those qualities to you.  It makes her immortal.”

His hand tightened on hers and he stared into her brilliant green eyes.  “There is no doubt in my mind that she would have found you lovely and fascinating.”

“Thank you.”  She swallowed and glanced behind her.  “I’ll…grab my shoes.”  Tugging her hand from his, she stepped into heels and returned.  On her phone, she brought up the final dance number and led him across the stage.  She hit ‘play’ and tucked the phone in the pocket of his dress shirt.  “So you can hear it.”

Then Madeline stepped into his space and he took her in his arms. 

Dancing had always come easily to him but he didn’t do it often anymore.  As he led her around the stage, she softly whispered blocking notes to herself.  Her movements flowed perfectly into one another, her form ideal, and he never wanted the music to end. 

He focused on what she needed.  He stayed within the corners she’d outlined with painter’s tape and followed her whispered direction.

At the last note, they stopped and she lifted her face.  He didn’t release her.  Her eyes stared into his so intensely that he wanted nothing more than to take her up against the nearest wall. 

“I’m under a lot of stress, Ezra.”

“I know.  Everything is going to be alright, Madeline.” 

There was a long pause.  “I don’t want people to get the wrong idea about who I am or what I want.  I take my reputation seriously.  Do you…understand?”

“I can’t think at all, to be honest.”  His cock was hijacking all the blood flow in his body. 

She took a deep breath and he thought she was going to reject him softly.  He braced for the impact. 

What she actually said blew him away. 

“If I don’t fuck you, I’m going to spontaneously combust.” 

Everything inside him went still as she continued.  “I don’t want anyone to think I’m after who you are, your connections, or your money because I could not give a damn about any of that.  If I don’t release the sexual tension inside me, inspired by being around you day after day, I’m going to lose my shit.  Completely
lose my shit
, Ezra.”

He had her in his arms, his mouth sealed to hers, before the sound of his name completely faded.  Kissing Madeline Johannson was fantastic in his dreams. 

The reality was so far beyond it, he wondered if he would be able to keep from losing
his
shit.  Her arms wrapped around his back, her hands gripped his shoulders from behind. 

She gave as good as she got, ripping the memory of every other woman out of his brain and replacing it with powerful feminine hunger unlike anything he’d ever felt. 

Linn tasted of mint tea and the cinnamon candy she sucked on to help her stick to not smoking.  A habit he’d kicked as well. 

Her tongue was fucking
magic
.

Breaking the kiss, she turned and grabbed his hand, headed toward the hallway to the dressing rooms.  He pulled her to a stop and she looked over her shoulder in surprise. 

Without a word, he lifted her against his torso, and took the back stairs to his office.  Her arms and legs wrapped around his shoulders and hips in a vice grip. 

As they cleared the door, he growled, “I’ve imagined you here a thousand times.” 

Kicking the door shut, he twisted the lock and slammed her against the wall.  He felt her cross her ankles at his low back, her hips working her center along his length in a way that stole all rational thought. 

Dropping her roughly to her feet, she pulled her t-shirt over her head and went for the buttons of his shirt.  Several didn’t survive her attention.  One slender hand coiled around his neck, bringing him down for another kiss.  His arm held her waist as he walked her backward to his desk. 

In a single movement, he shoved all the papers off the end and lifted her to the surface as she kicked off her heels.  Linn tried to unbutton her jeans but her hands shook too badly.  Pushing them away, he unfastened them and pulled them and her panties down her legs almost violently.  Shrugging off his battered shirt, he claimed her mouth again as one hand worked at his own slacks. 

“Please…Ezra.”  Her nails dug into his shoulders and he nodded against her cheek. 

Barely able to work a condom free from his wallet, she had his pants and boxers shoved over his hips as he tore open the foil.  As a teenager, he’d quickly found a rhythm to safe sex.

Ten minutes spent mauling Madeline had made him lose all finesse.  Long legs circled his waist as her hands raked through his hair. 

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