Yesterday's Tomorrows (9 page)

Great. I think my job just got a whole lot tougher.

A
surge
of protectiveness flared through me when it came to Madelyn Stone. I didn't like it; it pushed and threatened to weaken the walls and limits I had for women. But I saw through her defenses and recognized the fear and vulnerability she fought so hard to hide. Maybe because I saw its counterpart in me, but regardless, it called to me, speaking to a part that I couldn’t shut out. Lord knows, I had tried.

I had avoided her for most of the rest of the week following dinner at her apartment, knowing how I’d almost kissed her as I left. I’d seen something in her eyes that had nearly pulled me in, something akin to sadness and curiosity blended with innocence and a dash of pure feminine desire. It was an intoxicating mix, and one taste and I knew I’d probably have a hard time not going back for more. I’d almost succumbed to my attraction to her, lured by her soft, red lips only to realize the danger signs and moved quickly, if awkwardly, to her forehead.

Maddy didn't fit neatly into the other categories I ascribed to women to protect Claire’s memory. So I’d thought maybe this one time I could create a new one just for her - friend.

It wasn't working.

A
friend
would have made sure she wasn't hurt and then gone about his business. A
friend
might have offered to bring her something back to eat, but he wouldn't have told a colleague he had a lunch
date
. And a
friend
sure has hell wouldn't have given into the temptation to run his hands through her hair.

So why the hell that spontaneous invitation for lunch had come out of my mouth, I’m sure I didn’t know. Probably because I was a sucker for the sadness in her eyes when she said she'd been taking care of herself for a long time. And once she stated that she wasn't good enough to be seen with me, I couldn't leave it alone.

Friends. Yes, that's what we were, and that's what we would stay. I would just need to strengthen the lines of definition. I would treat her to a nice lunch, have a friendly conversation with her, make sure she wasn't feeling any negative repercussions from the repairman and then go back to my business.

Get in and get out - just like my missions in the Corps.

Only those missions didn't always go according to plan, so I should have known better than for my plan with Maddy to go as expected.

She was quiet during our walk to the deli. A little too quiet. I liked that she didn't feel she had to fill the void with endless drivel, but I wondered what she was thinking.
Just as a concerned friend
, I reminded myself. I bit my tongue and was about to ask some mundane question about the weather when she spoke first.

"Does everyone at the law firm know how I got the job?"

She could have been asking about the weather as casually as she asked, but with a sideways glance, I caught her biting her lip. "No, absolutely not. Mr. McCloskey was very clear it was to remain confidential."

She nodded as we arrived at the deli. Despite the large crowd at the counter, we were quickly seated.

After we had ordered our drinks, she continued to press for more information. "So some people know?"

I nodded cautiously, not sure where she was going with her line of questioning.

"Who?"

"Well, the three partners, of course, and a couple of others including myself, who are considered non-equity partners but have some limited say in company policy. Oh, and Mrs. Holmes, but she's very trustworthy, and we knew she'd treat you the same as any other employee. And even she doesn't know the specifics. It was important we put the firm's interest first, but only those that we felt needed to know were told."

She drummed her fingers on the table and stared pensively at her glass. "Misty knows something, Holt."

I scowled. "Misty only has the job because she's Barnes's niece. He must have let it slip in front of her at some point. I don't know, but I'll have Mrs. Holmes talk to her." Of all the partners, Barnes could be the most clueless at times. It was amazing he was such a brilliant lawyer. He was proof that book smarts don’t always equal street smarts.

She shook her head. "No, don't. It will only make it look like I'm trying to hide something and give her more ammunition against me. I could tell she was insanely jealous that it wasn't her going to lunch with you today. She was rubbing it in my face this morning that she was going to be your next assistant and that you couldn't wait to spend more time with her."

I almost choked on my drink. "Misty couldn't alphabetize her way through a child's dictionary,” I sputtered. “Why would I want her for an assistant? And I already told you I didn't invite her to lunch. She's just pretending to do a job while she works on an M.R.S. degree."

"A what?"

"A Missus,” I smirked. “She's looking for a rich husband."

"Oh," she grinned. "Cute."

"Maddy, please don't worry about what anyone knows about you at work. One, there’s almost no way they could have found out. And second, you've made a very positive impression on everyone you've come in contact with. My secretary is always singing your praises, and she hardly ever says anything nice about anybody. So trust in that, okay?"

"You really believe that?"

"I do."

She sipped at her Diet Coke. "Thank you. It's nice to have someone believe in me for a change." She peered shyly up at me through her long eyelashes. She looked so sweet at that very moment.
Just friends
, I reminded myself and took a long drink of my iced tea to distract the direction of my thoughts.

"You're very good at convincing people about things. I wish I had someone like you on my case several years ago. It might have gone differently," she whispered.

That vulnerability flitted across her face, touching again on that desire to protect her. Without thinking, I reached for her hand resting next to her plate. "I would have fought hard for you."

Her warm fingers closed around mine, adding another spark to my desire for her. "I believe you."

"So what is your story, Madelyn?"

She quickly withdrew her hand and wrapped it around her glass. I hated the loss I felt and cursed myself for speaking my thought out loud. She sat up straighter as she struggled to regain her composure.

"It's certainly no fairytale," she finally answered and leveled her hazel eyes on me. She tilted her head just a bit as if surveying me, like she was trying to see beyond appearances and search deep inside me.

"What's your story, Holt? You know more about me than I do about you. Fair’s fair, wouldn't you say?"

I grinned at her tactic and avoided her question. "Nice deflection." Thankfully, I was saved from further questions when the waiter brought our meals.

Maddy took a big bite of her French dip sandwich. "Mmm. Oh, wow. That's so good.”

Her voice dropped to that same huskiness I’d heard her use during her tutoring, and once again I found myself aroused. My hands paused halfway to my mouth as she rolled her eyes heavenward and chewed slowly, and I stared shamelessly as her mouth worked the food as if her tongue was caressing the sandwich. My eyes closed as I imagined her uttering those same words with a mouthful of me.

I was fucked.
Friends
didn't picture another friend giving a blowjob.

"Aren't you hungry?" Her innocent voice drew me back.

"What? Oh, um, yes. I thought I was going to sneeze. Didn't want my mouth full."

Her nose wrinkled up. "Eww. Thanks for sparing me."

Somehow I managed to keep up my end of small talk the rest of the meal. Maddy was great company, smiling, laughing softly, or asking questions like she was truly interested in my work, my interests, and my family. She didn’t putter on about her girlfriends, shopping, and other trivial bullshit. It was refreshing, and I found our time passed quickly, much like it did the evening I shared her dinner at her apartment. I was distracted by her movements which were graceful and natural, as opposed to the overt and flirtatious, almost rehearsed, gestures some women used.

I sighed as I realized I had spent more time talking to her than eating. I didn’t remember the last time that happened, since conversation with a woman was more a necessity than a pleasure when your motivation was never in getting to know her further except how tight her pussy was or how fast she could make me come.

I was anxious to get back to the office to put some distance between us. I needed back on neutral ground, where I knew what my role was and could remember what
hers
was, because here the line was increasingly blurred.

After the waitress brought the bill, Maddy excused herself to use the restroom while I took the bill to the cashier and waited for her. Maddy's features looked pinched as she tried to navigate her way through a group that had gathered near the takeout counter. To me, they seemed like they were simply a group of friends that were enthusiastically greeting each other. But based on the look on Maddy’s face it appeared it was more frightening. She flinched when someone shouted and ducked when a man near her flung out a hand to slap a buddy on the back. It was more than frustration; she looked scared.

I headed in her direction to help.

I jostled a few shoulders as I pushed my way to her and managed to clasp her hand. She started to jerk away until she saw it was me. A small thrill rattled my brain knowing it was me that caused her alarmed look to relax into a trusting smile. I had just put my arm around her shoulders so I could shelter her the rest of the way when one of the guys on her other side turned too fast and bumped right into a waiter carrying a tray of steaming bowls. Years of military training kicked in, and I instinctively tucked her into me and turned my back to shield her while I held up an arm so the tray didn't hit her. I flinched as hot soup rained down everywhere.

Everyone stood stunned for a few seconds in the aftermath. Pandemonium released and everyone scurried around trying to help those who had soup spilled on them. Someone offered me several dry napkins which I automatically accepted.

At my side, Maddy was frantically pulling at my arm, causing me to realize exactly where my reach had landed when I pulled her against me. My hand held a soft mound of flesh. Time seemed to slow as I felt the laciness of her bra and her nipple rub against my hand as her ass ground against the front of my legs as she wiggled.

Shit. Friends don't get hard at another friend's touch.

"Holt. Let go of me!" Her urgent tone snapped me out of my stupor, and I snatched my arm from her.

"Are you alright?"

We both asked the same question at the same time. I grinned as I flicked a chunk of carrot from her shoulder. She was staring at me in alarm.

"Holt, your hand!"

As if her comment flicked a switch, I became increasingly aware of a stinging sensation. I glanced down to see an angry red patch on the back of my hand, still wet from the soup that had spilled on us. The other traitorous hand had been so consumed in groping Maddy's breast, it hadn't even noticed its mate had been doused in hundred plus degree liquid.

"Someone please get me a cold cloth or some ice." Maddy hailed a couple of employees with a wave of her hand. "Come. Sit." The burning increased in intensity as she guided me to a booth that had cleared out during the chaos. The rest of the customers returned to their seats or left as the chaos settled. A woman whose nametag indicated she was Sheila the manager handed Maddy a clean cloth and a cup of ice water, along with a first aid kit. "I am so sorry for the accident.” She dug through the kit and pulled out a can. "Here, try this. We spray this on if anyone happens to get burned."

"It happens that often?" I asked wryly as Maddy covered the red mark with the cloth that she saturated in cold water. I blew out a sigh of relief. Maddy raised worried eyes to me.

"Oh, no, we've never had an incident involving the customers before," the manager hastily corrected me. "Just an occasional one in the kitchen. I feel terrible."

"It was an accident," I waved her off. "I'll be fine." I looked at Maddy, who was reading the instructions on the can of burn relief. "What about you? Are you hurt anywhere?"

She glanced up. "It startled me for sure, but your arm took the brunt of it. I just got a few drips and splashes." She looked ruefully down at her clothes. "I can't go back to work smelling and looking like a soup kitchen, though."

Neither could I. At least, my suit jacket had been spared since I'd left it in the office. I pulled out my cell phone and made a couple of calls while Maddy and Sheila fussed over my hand until Maddy finally shooed her away.

"We're both done for the afternoon," I declared. "Let's head back to my truck. I'll take you home."

Fifteen minutes later, we were in my truck, loaded down with extra food and gift cards courtesy of Sheila, and on the way home. I was still bothered by her reaction to the crowd of people at the diner. Her fear was not normal. Finally, I just decided to ask her.

“Maddy, what was with the panic back there? It’s not the first time I’ve noticed it. I didn’t mean to put you in a situation that made things hard for you.”

She raised her eyebrows as if surprised. I thought for sure she was going to shut me down, but to my surprise, she answered.

“It wasn’t anything you did, Holt. Sometimes if crowds of people get too close to me or grab me when I’m not expecting it, I freak out. I…I had some bad experiences in prison, and it’s just kind of become an instinct. I’m trying to get over it, but sometimes it still catches me off guard. Please don’t feel bad. You couldn’t have known.”

I felt like shit. True, I didn’t know about her panic attacks, but it was a reminder of how little I
did
know about her. I’d asked her twice about her life story with no real answers, but the outline I was putting together sounded like it was more of a tragedy than anything.

“What happened to you?” I growled. To my surprise, she sighed and answered me.

“Well, obviously it was no picnic being in prison, and in the end I suppose it could have been worse, but in the beginning I was scared. There were a few times things got rough.” She sighed and looked warily into my eyes. “I’m sure you know there are different levels of placement according to your crime, so I wasn’t in with really hardcore criminals. But there were a few women who were just plain mean, and they liked to ‘try out’ the new girls.”