His weight pushed down on her, heavy and welcome. His face rested on the pillow next to hers and he kissed her shoulder.
“Maddie?” he asked, breathless.
“Yeah?” She slid her hands across his back.
He raised onto his elbows and looked into her face, his breathing still heavy. “I don’t know what was different this time, but that was the hottest sex I’ve ever had.”
She knew what was different. She loved him. Her face got hot and she shoved at his shoulders. She loved him and she’d told him so too.
He rolled off her and lay on his back.
“I need some water,” she said as she crawled off the bed and stood. Her ears were ringing from embarrassment and she moved to her closet and grabbed her robe.
“Where’s your cat?” he asked.
“Probably on my office chair.” She looked down at her shaking hands as she tied the terrycloth around her waist.
“If she attacks me, I’m getting her some G13.”
Maddie had no idea what he was talking about. “Okay,” she called from the closet.
“I have more condoms in my pants pocket,” he said, all chipper as he walked to the bathroom. “But you’re going to have to give me some time to get up to speed again.”
While Mick used the bathroom, Maddie walked to the kitchen. She opened the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of Diet Coke. She placed it against her burning cheeks and closed her eyes. Maybe he hadn’t heard her. He’d told her on the way to Redfish that sometimes he didn’t understand everything she said during sex. Perhaps she hadn’t spoken as clearly as she’d thought.
She unscrewed the cap and took a long drink. She hoped like hell it had been one of those times, which only took care of one problem. The bigger problem loomed ahead, black and devastating and unavoidable.
Mick walked from the bedroom and made his way into the kitchen. He wore his Levi’s low on his hips and his hair was tousled from her fingers. “Are you embarrassed about something?” he asked as he moved behind Maddie and wrapped his arms around her.
“Why?”
He took the bottle from her hands and raised it to his lips. “You practically ran out of the bedroom and your cheeks are red.” He took a long drink, then handed it back to her.
She looked down at her feet. “Why would I be embarrassed?”
“Because you shouted, ‘I love you,’ in the throes of passion.”
“Oh, God.” She covered the side of her face with her free hand.
He turned her, placed his fingers beneath her chin, and brought her gaze to his. “It’s okay, Maddie.”
“No, it’s not. I didn’t mean to fall in love with you.” She shook her head and insisted, “I don’t want to be in love with you.” Her chest felt raw and tears stung the backs of her eyes, and she didn’t think it was possible to be in any worse pain. “My life sucks.”
“Why?” He softly kissed her lips and said, “I’m in love with you too. I didn’t think I would ever feel for a woman what I feel for you. These past few days, I’ve been wondering how you felt.”
She took a few steps back and his hands fell to his sides. This should be the best, most euphoric time of her life. This wasn’t fair, but as she’d discovered as a five-year-old child, life was not fair. She opened her mouth and forced the truth past the horrible clog in her throat. “Madeline Dupree is my pen name.”
His brows rose up his forehead. “Madeline is not your real name?”
She nodded. “Madeline is my name. Dupree is not.”
He tilted his head to one side. “What is your name?”
“Maddie Jones.”
He looked at her, his eyes clear. He shrugged one bare shoulder and said, “Okay.”
She didn’t for one second believe he meant “okay” like he was okay with who she was. He wasn’t connecting the dots. She licked her dry lips. “My mother was Alice Jones.”
A slight frown creased his brow and then he jerked back like someone had shot him. His gaze moved across her face as if trying to see something he’d never noticed before. “Tell me you’re making a joke, Maddie.”
She shook her head. “It’s true. Alice Jones isn’t some face in a newspaper article that caught my attention. She was my mother.” She reached a hand toward him, but he took a step back and her hand fell to her side. She hadn’t thought she could be in more pain; she’d been wrong.
His eyes stared into hers. Gone was the man who’d just told her that he loved her. She’d seen Mick angry, but she’d never seen him so coldly furious. “Let me see if I’m getting this right. My father fucked your mother and I’ve been fucking you? Is that what you’re telling me?”
“I don’t see it that way.”
“There’s no other way to see it.” He turned on his heels and moved from the kitchen.
Maddie followed him through the living room and into her bedroom. “Mick—”
“Have you gotten some sort of sick pleasure out of all this?” he interrupted her as he picked up his shirt and shoved his arms through the sleeves. “When you came to town, was it your intention from the beginning to totally screw with my head? Is this some sort of twisted revenge for what my mother did to yours?”
She shook her head and refused to give in to the tears that threatened to fill her eyes. She would not cry in front of Mick. “I didn’t want to get involved with you. Ever. But you kept pushing. I wanted to tell you.”
“Bullshit.” He pulled the shirt over his head and down his chest. “If you’d wanted to tell me, you’d have found a way. You had no problem sharing every other detail of your life. I know you grew up fat and lost your virginity at twenty. I know you wear different scented lotion every day, and that you keep a vibrator named Carlos next to your bed.” He bent forward and picked up his socks and shoes. “For Christ’s sake, I even know you’re not a butt girl.” He pointed one of his shoes at her and continued, “And I’m supposed to believe that you couldn’t work the truth into any conversation at some point before tonight!”
“I know that it’s no consolation, but I never wanted to hurt you.”
“I’m not hurt.” He sat on the edge of the bed and shoved his feet into a pair of white socks. “I’m disgusted.”
She felt her anger rise up and she was amazed she could feel anything beyond the deep mortal pain in her chest. She reminded herself that he had a right to be furious. He had a right to know early on whom he was getting involved with instead of after the fact. “That’s harsh.”
“Baby, you don’t know harsh.” He glanced up at her, then looked down as he put on his black boots and tied the laces. “I spent an hour tonight trying to defend you to my sister. She tried to tell me not to get involved with you, but I was thinking with my cock.” He paused to let his gaze rake her up and down. “And now I have to go tell her about you. I have to tell her you’re the daughter of the waitress who ruined her life and watch her come apart.”
He might have more right to be angry than she did, but hearing him call her mother “the waitress” and worrying more about his sister than her scraped her raw emotions and pushed her over the top. “You. You. You. I am so sick of hearing about you and your sister. What about me?” She pointed to herself. “Your mother killed my mother. At the age of five, I moved in with a great-aunt who never wanted children. Who showed more love and affection for her cats than she ever did for me. Your mother did that to me. I’ve never been given so much as a second thought by you or your family. So I don’t want to hear about you and your poor sister.”
“If your mother hadn’t been sleeping around—”
“If your father hadn’t been sleeping around with about every woman in town and your mother hadn’t been a vindictive bitch with a healthy dose of psychosis, then we’d all be happy as clams, wouldn’t we? But your father was sleeping with my mother and your mother loaded a pistol and killed them both. That’s our reality. When I moved to Truly, I expected to hate you and your sister for what your family has done to me. You look so much like your father that I expected to loathe you on sight, but I didn’t. And as I got to know you, I realized that you are nothing like Loch.”