Exposed (22 page)

Maddie woke up thirsty. She looked at the ceiling and felt a jolt of panic at not being in her bed. She felt another jolt as she realized she was in Brian’s.

He was sprawled beside her on his stomach. Naked. She was naked, too. She looked at his shadowy form beside her—his muscular back, his narrow hips, his long legs now tangled in the sheets. She closed her eyes and let the memories wash over her. She remembered the slide of his hands, the feel of his powerful body. She reached out and brushed her fingers over his forearm, just to confirm that he was real and not some alcohol-induced fantasy. His skin was warm beneath her fingertips, and she lay there silently as the reality of what she’d done seeped in.

She sat up, feeling a little dazed and a lot exposed. How much had she had to drink? She looked around the unfamiliar room. She looked at Brian. What if he never wanted her again? Or even more unsettling, what if he did?

Maddie slipped out of bed. A wave of dizziness crashed over her, and she touched the dresser to steady herself. She looked around, trying to decide what to do. Her car was still back at the bar. She wasn’t in any shape to drive home.

She grabbed a shirt off the floor and tiptoed out of the room. The hall light was on, and she switched it off. Her eyes adjusted to the dimness as she padded into the kitchen, where a light glowed over the stove. She stared at the wall of cabinets. Opening them all was beyond her, so she turned on the faucet. She cupped her hand under it and ducked her head down to lap up water like a feral cat. She glanced into the window above the sink.

Oh, God
.

Her hair looked like Medusa. Her makeup was smudged. She had a bruise on her neck . . . She leaned closer. Not a bruise, a
hickey
.

“Hey.”

She jumped and whirled around. “God, you scared me!”

Brian leaned against the door frame, watching her. She shut off the faucet.

“Looking for something to eat?” His voice was gravelly, and his hair stuck out on one side. He wore black boxer-briefs, and she tried not to stare at his perfect torso.

“I was thirsty.”

He looked at her for a moment, then crossed the kitchen and opened a cabinet. He filled a glass with water from the fridge dispenser and handed it to her.

“Thanks.” She gulped down the water and watched him over the rim of the glass. What should she say? He stepped closer, and her heart started to pound.

“That’s my shirt.”

“Sorry.”

He parted the fabric, and her breasts tingled. He had that look again. And as much as she wanted to run away from this stupid mistake, she knew she wasn’t going anywhere.

He circled her waist with his hands, rubbing his thumbs over her hip bones as he steered her slowly out of the kitchen. Her feet touched carpet, and the backs of her thighs bumped against the wooden table. He took the glass from her hand and reached over to put it on the counter.

She looked back at the table. She looked at him.

“We should go to bed,” she said.

He leaned down and pressed his mouth to her ear. “Not yet.”

Maddie squinted through the windshield, wishing she could drive blindfolded. Of course, it had to be sunny this morning. Of course, she had to hit traffic. And of course, she had to have a staff meeting in exactly one hour, so there was no way she could slink into a dark room and crawl under the covers to wallow in misery for the next hundred hours—or however long it took to get rid of her screaming headache.

Beer before liquor, never been sicker
. Her sister Tracy’s saying came back to her, those helpful words of wisdom that she’d dispensed one long-ago weekend when their parents had been out of town and they’d snuck beer into the house and decided to throw a party. For years, Maddie had had no trouble following the advice, but yesterday she’d disregarded not only her sister’s drinking slogan but every other rational thought that had entered her mind.

Now she turned onto her street and wished for a time machine so she could erase last night. Or at least skip over this morning. Her head was pounding, her stomach was doing flip-flops, and she couldn’t imagine
anything more miserable than an endless staff meeting in a brightly lit conference room.

But then a silver BMW glided to a stop in front of her house, and she realized that she could.

“Shit,” she muttered, swinging into the driveway. She thrust her car into park and thunked her forehead on the steering wheel, sending a bullet of pain straight through her skull.

Maddie sat up and looked at her clothes. She checked her reflection in the mirror. Even with sunglasses, it was beyond hopeless. She grabbed her coat and purse from the passenger seat and climbed out.

A trim, smiling, sun-bronzed specimen of male humanity strolled up her driveway.

“ ‘Morning.” He pulled off his designer shades, and the smile faltered. “What happened to you?”

“Late night.”

His gaze dropped to her wrinkled skirt. Maddie tossed her coat over her arm to hide the dirt on her cuffs.

“What do you want, Mitch?”

He pretended to be offended. “Can’t a guy stop by for a cup of coffee?”

She strode past him and up the stairs. “I’m late for work.”

“This won’t take long.”

She unlocked the door, and the high-pitched beep greeted her like a pickax. She hurried across the foyer to tap in her alarm code.

“That’s new,” he said.

She gritted her teeth as she tossed her purse and coat onto the chair. He’d only been over a handful of times, but he’d noticed every detail. She had no doubt he was
noticing details right now, too, including the slovenly state of her living room.

“I’ve got to get in the shower, so—”

“One cup,” he said. “Then I’ll get out of your way.”

One drink
. Brian’s words flashed through her mind, and her stomach roiled again. She wasn’t up for this. She wanted to tell Mitch to get lost, but he was persistent as hell, and she couldn’t handle a fight right now.

“Help yourself,” she said, and left him standing in the living room.

Maddie avoided her reflection as she stripped off her clothes and jumped into the shower. The hot spray made her dizzy, so she set the water to lukewarm and quickly cleaned up. She toweled off, brushed her hair, and squirted Visine into her eyes—for all the good it would probably do. She pulled on jeans and an oversize sweater that she hoped would conceal all her cuts, scrapes, and hickeys.

When she walked barefoot into the kitchen, Mitch was pouring a cup of coffee. On the counter beside him was a glass of water and some aspirin from the bottle she kept in the cabinet with the vitamins.

“Thanks.” She popped the tablets into her mouth, feeling a twinge of guilt for being such a bitch.

He folded his arms over his chest. “Where’d you get the contusion?”

She looked at him.

“On your jaw there.”

“I was mugged last week.”

His brows tipped up. “Really?”

“Really.”

“Guess that explains the burglar alarm.”

She took down a cup and poured herself some coffee. He made it strong, just the way she liked it. She took a sip and remembered all the late nights during medical school, when he’d been cramming for exams and she would get up in the middle of the night to rub his shoulders and make him coffee. It was hard to imagine she’d ever been that in love.

He ran a hand through his thick, dark hair. The years had been good to him. A decade into his career, and he still had his looks, his health. And now he had a big fat bank account to go with it all. He was quite the catch.

“So, you heard about Jennings,” he said.

“You mean the wedding?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, you know what they say. Third time’s the charm.” Maddie crossed her arms.

“You going?”

“Not as a guest,” she said. “I’m doing the photos.”

Todd Jennings had always been more Mitch’s friend than hers, but he’d really wanted her to do the photos, and she hadn’t had the heart to say no.

“I assume you’ll be there?” she asked.

“That’s why I came by, to give you the heads-up.”

“Thanks.”

“And to tell you Danielle’s pregnant again.”

Pain speared through her. Her throat closed, and she took a second to find her voice. “Congratulations.”

“Thanks.” He smiled sheepishly. “We had the ultrasound. Looks like another boy.”

She felt the familiar tightness in her chest. Her pulse spiked, and suddenly, she was back in that room again,
with the cold gel on her belly and her husband hovering beside her. She looked at his hand wrapped around her coffee mug and remembered those same fingers laced through hers as they’d looked at the screen and seen those first blurry images of Emma.

He stepped closer. “You okay?”

“Fine.” She cleared her throat. “Fine.” She poured the coffee down the sink and immediately wished she hadn’t. He was watching her now, and the pity in his eyes made her want to slap him.

The doorbell rang.

She looked over her shoulder. She glanced at Mitch.

“Maddie—”

“Just a second.” She rushed from the room, realizing too late that she might have made another misstep. A glimpse through the peephole confirmed it.

She closed her eyes. She braced herself. She swung open the door.

“Hi,” she said brightly.

Brian looked at her. He looked over her shoulder. She heard footsteps behind her and pulled the door back.

“Come in.”

He looked at her again, and she could swear his body actually expanded as he stepped over the threshold. He thrust his hand out, all confidence. “Brian Beckman.”

“Mitch Callahan.”

Brian shot her a look.

She avoided his gaze in favor of Mitch, and it struck her how different they were—the man she’d married and the man she’d just slept with. Brian had grown up on a farm, gone overseas to fight for his country, and
come home to a job that required him to work long hours and dodge bullets—all for less than six figures a year. Mitch was private school all the way, and although he’d once been passionate about saving lives, now he was mostly passionate about his golf game.

And then there was Emma. The fact that he’d gotten over her, that he’d
replaced
her—twice now—burned like a coal in her chest, and if she lived to be a hundred, she’d never forgive him for it.

Both men were looking at her now, and she realized the silence had become awkward.

“Well.” Mitch turned to Brian. “Good to meet you, Brian.” Then back to Maddie with a smug look that told her he’d correctly read the situation. “I was just leaving.”

She pulled the door open wider.

“Thanks for the coffee, Maddie.”

“Sure thing.”

She watched him walk down the stairs. She shut the door and turned around.

Brian closed his eyes. “Jesus, Maddie.”

“What?”

“Please fucking tell me you’re not still married.”

“I’m not still married.” She strode into the kitchen and took down two fresh mugs. “Coffee?”

He leaned against the doorway to the kitchen, and she could feel the anger emanating from him. She’d known this would happen. She’d known it the whole way home, and yet she hadn’t had the guts to turn around and make it right.

She poured a cup of coffee and offered it to him.

“No, thanks.”

She didn’t want it, either, so she set it on the counter and leaned back against the sink.

“I didn’t change my name after the divorce,” she said. “Too much paperwork.” It was an outright lie, and he probably knew it. But she didn’t owe him the real explanation. She didn’t owe him anything.

He crossed his arms. He looked down at the floor and shook his head.

“What’s the problem?”

He looked up. “What’s the problem?”

“Yeah.” She went on the offensive. “You’ve obviously got a chip on your shoulder. What is it?”

“I don’t know. Maybe something about how I got out of the shower this morning and you’d up and disappeared?”

“I have a meeting.”

“You ever think to poke your head in and mention it? So I wouldn’t think you’d been
kidnapped
?”

She almost laughed, it sounded so absurd. But then she thought of Jolene. He felt responsible for that. No matter what anyone said, he believed it was his fault, and that feeling of responsibility spilled over to everyone in his orbit, apparently.

Maddie’s head throbbed, and she tried to think of something to say to make this right, but she completely drew a blank.

“Listen, Brian . . . I’m sorry about last night.” She shoved the mug toward the sink and looked at it instead of him. “I had too much to drink. I know that’s no excuse, but that’s what happened.”

Silence.

She glanced up.

He shook his head and looked away. “That’s just—” He muttered something she didn’t hear.

“What?”

“Bullshit, Maddie.”

“What’s bullshit?” Anger welled up. She knew it wasn’t all about him, but he was standing in her kitchen pissing her off, so he was going to get the brunt of it. “It was stupid. I had too much to drink. I know that doesn’t excuse my behavior, but still—”