CHAPTER SIX
Her day of reckoning was finally here. His had already passed. He hadn't wanted anything to do with her since she walked away from him. He'd avoided her and thrown himself into the lobby work with effort even she would deem acceptable.
One kiss. That's it. He wasn't asking her for her hand in marriage. He wasn’t even asking her for more than a few minutes of her time.
Was he that wrong in reading her? She'd been interested, he felt it. Her breathing changed, her face glowed, even her eyes lit up. And then she'd turned yellow and ran. He drew a deep breath and entered the office, trailed by Toni.
“Are you satisfied with everything?” His tone was emotionless.
Madeleine looked at him from behind her desk. She wore city-girl clothes again in anticipation of Mr. Howard’s visit. Judging by the blue circles beneath her eyes, she hadn’t slept since fleeing his kiss two days ago.
He took no pity on her. After her blatant rejection, he refused to think of her as anything but what she was: a typical, self-absorbed city-girl worthy of a typical, self-absorbed city-boy like Mark. She'd been in the trailer since before he arrived at six. Twice she had toured the site and the lobby. Toni had trailed her and Eric while Jake remained as far from her as he could.
“Yes, thank you,” she said, and rose. “Mr. Howard’s staff is setting up right now. You’re not obligated to stay, though I'd appreciate if you did, just in case there are questions I can't answer.”
She searched his face. He remained coldly professional. He felt the familiar tension between them that had plagued their relationship since meeting.
“We wouldn't miss the show,” Toni said from the doorway. “Is that Duke that smells so bad?”
Her phone rang. Jake turned and crossed to the door.
“Come, Duke,” he ordered as he stepped into the hot mid-morning sun.
Mr. Howard’s security detail and staff, reporters, and caterers already swarmed over the site. Jake watched them approach the roped-off areas of the lobby and construction site, tense for more reasons than one. Madeleine was forefront on his mind despite his attempt to dismiss her. Just as insistent was the knowledge of how stupid people could be around a plainly marked construction site, and how disastrous one misstep into the roped areas could be.
The small parking lot was filled, the freshly graveled road leading to the site broken in by catering trucks and the hurried steps of city-folk preparing for the infamous Mr. Howard. The reporters loitered between a tent and their seats in the lobby while caterers worked within two massive, white air-conditioned tents. Mr. Howard even had an emergency EMT crew on stand-by.
Mark was there, running between all the major parties and relaying phone calls. Jake watched him for a long while, unable to shake his anger.
“You wanna watch or not?” Toni prodded.
“Yeah. Have a feeling things won’t go well.”
“Eric already caught two reporters in restricted areas,” Toni said. “If Mr. Howard steps too far to the left up there, the whole stage’ll go.”
“She knows and doesn’t care, so long as it looks pretty,” Jake said. Toni glanced at him at his tone.
“Something happen? You’ve been prickly for a couple days."
“No.”
Toni didn't pry further. They made their way to the lobby area and off to the side, beyond one of the ropes. Dressed in jeans and Javier and Sons T-shirts, they could be mistaken for none other than the construction crew.
Jake watched the activities in silence, from the movement of food and people to the placing of signs and red carpet. No expense was spared in the welcoming of the site’s benefactor; even ice sculptures were carried in from refrigerated trucks to one of the two air-conditioned tents. Madeleine had thought of everything down to the fuel for the sparkling new generators delivered early in the morning.
He forced himself to admit: she'd nearly pulled off the impossible. He'd never thought her able to arrange everything as she had.
She was damned good.
Two black Lincolns with tinted windows arrived, and Eric emerged from the office. Jake watched him hurry toward the Lincolns and greet the six well-dressed men that emerged from the cars. A movement from the office caught his attention as Madeleine exited more slowly, clipboard and phone in hand. She signaled Mark as she strode toward the newcomers, and the athletic man jogged to join her.
Jake turned away.
“Mr. Howard has enough staff members to build this place,” Toni said, surprise in his voice. “Never knew a man who needed so many personal assistants. Bet that’s the Nigel Eric was talking about. He looks like a weasel.”
Jake turned, his gaze lingering on Madeleine. She looked even more unhappy. Walking beside her was a tall, slender man of about forty speaking privately to her. The others trailed with Eric and Mark addressing them.
“They’re all the same,” Jake muttered.
“Eric and Madeleine seem all right,” Toni said. “They can keep Mark.”
“Eric, maybe,” Jake responded. “Not Madeleine.”
“You have to pity her somewhat, Jake. She’s been set up for failure, and she knows it.”
She looked toward them, and Jake met her gaze. He knew as much, but his pride couldn't excuse her blunt rejections.
“I think she’s doing well,” Toni continued. “Even if we have to tear down the lobby. She’s annoying at times, but she doesn’t tell you how to do your job. Remember Old Willy?”
“That man was hell to work for,” Jake agreed with a nod.
“Maybe after Mr. Howard’s visit, you can try again,” Toni said.
“Looks like I’ll be lonely at the end of the world,” Jake replied.
“Hey, she wore your boots. You don’t think that means something, no matter how small?”
Jake returned his gaze to Madeleine. He'd been too angry at her to look at her feet. He took in her shapely form in its stark black suit, his gaze resting on the black boots peeking from beneath wide pant legs.
“She did,” he said with a small frown. With her, he wasn’t sure what that meant.
He recalled how it had felt to stand with her under the magical moonlight two nights prior. She was affected by him; her breathing changed when he touched her and she grew nervous, an unusual reaction for one accustomed to giving orders. He remembered how clear her green eyes had been in the moonlight, how turmoiled she appeared, and how she had completely walked away from him. He had never seen anything as beautiful or enticing as she appeared that moment before she turned her back to him.
Angered by the memory, he looked at the boots in a new light.
“Those are expensive boots,” he muttered.
“Yes, they are,” Toni said with a chuckle.
They fell into silence and returned to observing the scene before them.
Soon after the arrival of the black Lincolns, the distant sound of a helicopter filled the air. Jake and Toni turned, watching as a white helicopter landed in a newly poured concrete helipad a short distance away. Two all-terrain Land Rovers met the helicopter.
Madeleine, Mark, and Nigel assembled their party near the entrance of the lobby. Madeleine was pale but calm. Eric rounded up several roaming reporters before the Land Rovers reached the lobby area.
Jake and Toni watched as a tall, grey-haired man near sixty emerged from one of the Land Rovers. Immediately, photographer bulbs began flashing. A security detail of four men surrounded Mr. Howard, blocking him from Jake’s view until he proceeded down the red carpet and arrived at the lobby entrance.
Jake and Toni leaned forward on the wooden fence dividing the remainder of the site from the lobby. They watched Mr. Howard greet each of those in Madeleine’s party before he stepped into the lobby, followed by Nigel. Madeleine remained behind and signaled Eric, who darted to the catering tent.
Jake shifted to watch. Toni noticed the ill-placed reporter chairs first. Jake glanced at him at the hard nudge and followed Toni’s gaze with his own.
The floor was sinking already on one side of the lobby.
“Christ.” Jake stiffened and started around the grizzled foreman. "Did they double the amount of chairs we told them was safe?"
“Leave it. You can’t do anything, and if you make a scene, Madeleine will never forgive you,” Toni said, placing a hand on his arm.
Mr. Howard took pictures with local politicians before walking the length of the lobby to stand behind a red ribbon stretched before a lectern. He pulled out his notes and began his speech.
Jake attention was caught by something far more interesting: the crack in one of the faux finished floors lining either side of the marble entrance. The crack crept into the lobby. Jake counted the number of chairs set up for staff and reporters, grimly realizing Mr. Howard’s staff hadn't just doubled the numbers Toni supplied Madeleine as being safe—they'd tripled them, as if daring fate to destroy what they'd built.
Jake could only watch as the worst possible scenario unfolded too quickly to stop. The crack reached the back wall, and with a sickening sound of wood splintering, the floor on the right side of the marble walkway dropped, cracked, and popped much like an ice-coated pond thawing. People were pitched off their chairs.
The crack crept up the back wall and down the seam of where the marble walkway separated from the surrounding flooring. Mr. Howard was ushered by an alert bodyguard onto the walkway as the floor beneath the rest of his staff snapped. The back wall shuddered; the lights flashed; the ceiling split in several directions.
Following a long, stunned pause, people dashed out of the building. Jake and Toni stared.
“Never seen that before,” Toni managed.
“Wow,” Jake breathed.
Jake hurried through the construction to the front of the lobby. While plainly ruffled, Mr. Howard tried to appear calm and took a few more pictures before his bodyguards shepherded him toward the waiting cars. The crowd milled out in the open. Caterers and their staff exited the tents to witness the commotion and waved those displaced by the crumbling lobby into the tents.
Jake’s gaze found a furious-looking Eric glaring down a satisfied Mark. Farther in the distance, he made out Madeleine being pulled hastily toward the parking lot by the man Nigel. They were followed at a distance by a few others and paused just before the parking lot.
Jake clenched his jaw and stepped on top of a small pile of bricks to watch.
She'd been set up, no doubt by Mark.
Nigel’s face flamed with anger. He faced the smaller woman, his voice nearly audible even at Jake’s distance. Madeleine, silent, looked from him to the ground as he shouted.
“Jake, we need to stop this before it falls down completely!” Toni called.
Jake reined in the instincts urging him to assist Madeleine rather than the building. Toni tapped his arm, and he went. It took two grueling hours to stabilize the crumbling structure so nothing damaged the expensive marble flooring. Jake worked his men hard and was pleased when Eric joined in to assist in preventing the ceiling from caving in. By the time they finished, all but the catering tents and one black Lincoln had gone.
Jake joined Toni and Eric beside a stack of water bottles presumably left by the caterers. He accepted a bottle and poured water over his head before drinking another.
“That’ll do until tomorrow,” he said, turning to admire the haphazard work. “Incredible.”
“I didn’t know that could happen to a building,” Eric said with a frown. “What happened?”
“Someone on y’all’s staff put twice as many chairs as the structure could hold,” Jake said. "That just happened to be the one spot that could bring down the whole thing."
“Who knew about the capacity?” Eric asked.
“I told Madeleine and Mark,” Toni responded.
"Mark," Eric repeated, red creeping up his face once more.
“Where's Madeleine?” Jake asked. All three looked toward the office.
“Probably pleading for her job right now,” Eric said. “She’s still being yelled at by Mr. Howard's staff.”
Jake looked at his watch. “Christ.” He waved at several of the workers headed toward their trucks and wiped his face.
“Thank god it’s tequila night,” Eric whispered.
“Starting early tonight,” Toni grunted. “You gonna rescue your boss?”
Eric ducked his head and hesitated. He turned, half-heartedly heading for the office.
“We’ll go with you,” Jake offered, plagued by a sense of guilt for Madeleine’s predicament. The three walked toward the office. Toni glanced at his watch and then at Jake.
"Bar opens in about an hour. You want to go directly over?”
“I’ll drive you guys over from here,” Eric volunteered.
“Definitely staying ’til close,” Jake said. “I’ll be in tomorrow. Maybe take Monday off instead.”
“We’ve got a lot to do,” Toni said. “Eric, why don’t you occupy Madeleine away from the site for a day? Take her mind off things?”
Jake almost objected; if anyone spent a day with Madeleine away from work, it should be him. He held his tongue. Eric was delayed answering by the emergence of two of Mr. Howard’s staff from the office. Eric relaxed as the two departed toward the waiting Lincoln.
“We can go now,” he said.
“I need something out of the office,” Jake said, his gaze lingering on the window nearest the desk. “Come, Duke.”
He entered the darkened office and nudged his sunglasses up, eyes seeking Madeleine. He paused just inside the door and closed it behind Duke.
Her head was bent, her forehead supported by her palms. Her frame was tense, her appearance one of utter defeat. Jake considered leaving in silence until she looked his way with red-rimmed eyes.
“You all right?” he asked.
She wiped her eyes and cheeks hastily but met his gaze. Her nose was red, her face flushed. His instinctive reaction would've been to take the fragile woman in his arms. He clenched his jaw instead, aware his actions would probably equate to an act of war with the difficult woman.
“Thought you might like Duke to stay. We’re headed to Lucky’s,” he said.
She looked to the dog, her face softening. She nodded without speaking. Unable to handle the sight of her suffering without doing something, Jake crossed to the small, rank bathroom and tugged free a few tissues from the box. He strode back to her desk and handed them to her.
“Thank you,” she said in a tight voice.
He braced himself for yet another rejection before saying, “You’re welcome to come.”
She looked away.
“Thank you,” she repeated.
Jake forced himself not to respond as he wanted to. The woman was already upset. She'd seemed interested in him sometimes and even worn his boots on the day that mattered most. Yet she continued to refuse him. He didn't understand it.
“Yeah,” he drawled. “Have a good night.”
He left, angry once again at her, but also at himself. As much as he tried to tell himself it'd never work between them, he found himself falling for her.
* * *
She waited until everyone was gone then left the site alone with Duke. She'd cried all she could; her mouth and eyes were both annoyingly dry. She returned to her hotel, hiding out in the hot bath for a couple of hours, until the hot water forced her body to relax. She refilled the bath with hot water three times, watching out the hotel window as it grew dark. She wrapped a towel around her and flipped on two lights as she paced to the bed. A bag of junk food—candy bars, cookies, and pastries—awaited her. She'd worked her way through half of her normally off-limits food and found them to be as comforting as her bath.
She flung herself on the bed and stared at the ceiling. As fatigued as she was, she didn't want to sleep, didn't want to end the worst day of her life crying next to a bag of chocolate.
She rolled and flipped open the phonebook to the restaurant entries. She read through the different types of restaurants, finding all unappealing. She had no appetite, but she needed something decent to eat. Her last hot meal had been at Jake’s.
At the thought of the man, her gaze fell to the small advertisement for Lucky’s Bar.
If she'd known Mr. Howard’s visit would be the end of her career … well, she couldn't say she wouldn't have taken this job. Despite the disastrous ending, she didn't feel nearly as devastated as she expected. She was doomed. Her career was over. She'd have to find a way to pay off Mama's medical debts.
She'd failed.
Maybe there was some sort of release in knowing none of it mattered anymore. Or maybe she realized the rest of the world hadn't stopped despite her day. It was still Lucky's Bar night, and everyone normal in the world was doing what they always did. For once, she wanted to be one of them. She debated for another tired moment, wondering if that was good or bad.
At least she was given one small reprieve: she would finish the project before being pushed onto the street. Nigel said Mark had begged for her job on her behalf, and of course, he'd decided to listen.
She wanted to kill Mark, but she had better things to do. She needed to take the time Nigel allowed her and find another job, not sit here looking for restaurants. She sighed.
Her phone rang. She debated not answering until she saw the number was from her mother's nursing home.
"Hey baby," her mother's warm tone said as she answered.
Madeleine felt like melting out of shame. Her eyes blurred with tears.
"Hey, Mama. How are you doing?" she asked.
"Very good. The food here is great, the other sickies fun, and the nurses sweet," her mother said. Her voice was strained but cheerful, as always.
"I'm glad you're doing okay," Madeleine said with relief. "The doc says you have another surgery scheduled."
"Should be an easy one. Removing another tumor. How're you doing, baby?"
"Good, really good," Madeleine lied. "The project is interesting. I should be done here in a few months. I'm thinking of switching jobs."
"I thought you liked it there."
"Well, I kind of need to grow a little, I guess."
"It's your ex, isn't it?" her mama asked, voice hardening. "I told you he was a weasel."
"And you were right, as always," Madeleine said with a chuckle. "Yeah, he's making life at the office a little difficult. I need a change anyway, Mama."
"You work too hard. Your eyes will wrinkle up and your hair turn silver by the time you're thirty."
"Gee, thanks, Mama."
"I'm serious! I know I'm as much of a burden as your job."
"No, never, Mama," Madeleine said quickly. "I want you to be healthy, and I can make that happen. When you're better, maybe we can move someplace else."
"Like Texas!" her mother said eagerly. "You know I've always wanted to live in the southwest."
"Eh, not sure you'd like it here, Mama," Madeleine replied. "It's nothing but desert and some hills."
"But lots of room. No cement stretching for miles, and I bet you can see all the stars!"
"Yes, you can."
"When I'm better, we'll move to the southwest."
Madeleine's heart ached at the words. The doctors weren't sure if her mother would ever be well enough to live an unassisted life. With her seizures and cancer, she needed constant medical attention, and Madeleine hadn't seen a hospital anywhere near where her hotel was.
"Ok, Mama," she said softly. "We can do that."
"I'll do some online research and tell you where we're moving."
"Sounds good, Mama," she said. "I've gotta get back to work."
"Love you, baby."
"Love you, too."
She hung up, both heartened and tormented by her conversation with her mother. She wasn't sure how to tell her she'd completely failed, that the next operation was the last she could pay for. Once Nigel fired her, she'd have to declare bankruptcy and pray there was another way to pay for her mother's medical issues. She pushed the ugly thoughts away. She had time to figure out something—and she would, even if it meant working multiple jobs.
Duke whined from his position resting on the small hotel couch. Madeleine looked at him and smiled, pleased the dog was back. She hadn't noticed how much she enjoyed not being completely alone until Jake reclaimed his dog two days prior. Duke’s return was a small token that reminded her Jake was at least somewhat concerned, or he wouldn't leave his dog with her.
Her gaze fell to the boots, and she pushed herself up.
She'd never been to a real bar, never been drinking with anyone. She'd drunk plenty during business socials but never just to do it. She debated which she wanted more: a good night’s rest or not to be alone with her depressive thoughts.
“What do you think, Princess?” she asked, hesitating.
The dog didn't answer. She stood and dressed, seeking some excuse not to go but feeling as if she needed a drink. In jeans and short-sleeved blouse, she paused once again before pulling on her boots. Duke stretched and hopped from the couch as she started toward the door.
"Stay, Duke," she ordered. He sat and panted. "You're the only man worth knowing anymore. If Mark comes by, eat him."
She left him with the television on to keep him company and walked to her rental car. A short ten-minute drive later, she pulled into a crowded parking lot. Lucky’s Bar was what she imagined it would be: crowded, smoky, and large. The bottom floor was split between an indoor bar area and an outdoor deck with a barbecue pit surrounded by tables, chairs, and even some sagging couches.
She felt out of place in the bar. It was loud, boisterous, and packed. A sign marked “Pool” pointed toward the second floor while another marked “Beer” pointed toward a large bar. She maneuvered through the crowd, seeking any faces she recognized. There was standing room only at the bar. She made her way to it and assumed the spot of a large man leaving.
“Vodka cranberry!” she shouted at one of four bartenders. A smile indicated he heard as he deftly exchanged money and drinks with the people beside her.
“Tab or cash?” he shouted back at her.
“Cash!”
She reached into her pocket and pulled free a few bills, then twisted to look around behind her again. She saw no one she knew. Her eyes drifted to the second floor, whose balcony overlooked the fire pit. It appeared to be less crowded.
“Five!”
She turned at the bartender’s shout and passed him a ten, waving to refuse the offered change. He tipped his hat and moved on. She turned her back to the bar and leaned back, sipping her drink.
She watched the crowd. Despite the raucous environment, she felt herself relax. The people distracted her dark thoughts while the alcohol warmed her from the inside out. She finished her first drink within a few minutes, and twisted around to the bar again. Bartenders bustled to and fro as she waited patiently before one stopped to take her order. Her gaze went from him to the buzzing BlackBerry. Nigel's number flashed. She sighed but answered.
“Madeleine Winters.”
“Madeleine, it’s Nigel.”
She slumped.
“Hello, Nigel.”
“Listen, Madeleine, we need to—”
The phone was plucked from her ear. Startled, she turned face the interloper, ready to deck whoever stole her phone. She went still as she realized it was Jake. He gave the phone a look of complete disgust and turned it off, tucking it into his back jeans pocket. He lifted her pink-tinted drink.
“This yours?” he yelled above the crowd.
She nodded.
“Jim, tab!” he bellowed to the bartender, and turned without awaiting a response. “C’mon!”
The moment he stepped away, he was swallowed by the crowd. She waded through the mass of people until she reached the empty stairwell where Jake awaited her. He flashed her a small smile, one that made her pulse quicken, and started up the stairs.
“It’s crowded!” she shouted.
“Tequila sells for a quarter a shot tonight!” Jake said. “You drink tequila?”
“Not really.”
Her eyes took in the chiseled body ascending the stairs before her. He wore dark jeans, a worn though fitted dark T-shirt, and boots. They reached the second floor, where half a dozen pool tables were spaced across the floor with the wall edged in tall, round bar tables and stools. Jake led her to the table at the far end, where she recognized Toni, Eric, two blonds, and a couple of others from the site.
She almost sighed at the sight of Jake’s ex-girlfriend. For a woman he was supposed to have broken up with, she was around more than Madeleine cared to see her.
Jake handed her back the pink drink and accepted a pool cue from Toni, who winked at her.
“You play?” he asked as Jake stepped to the table.
“Not very well,” she replied.
“Eric here’s a demon,” Toni said as the smaller man in the large cowboy hat approached. Eric grinned.
“You play pool?” she asked, aware of how little she knew of Eric’s life outside the office.
“I was my college's champion,” Eric said. “I’m glad you came!”
She raised her drink in response and took a sip.
“Eric's played every round so far," Toni said, then studied her. “Go sit down—you look beat!”
She did as he suggested and sat heavily in one of the bar stools at the nearby table. She relaxed, ignoring the two blonds at her right, and watched the three men play.
Eric was a demon at pool. He played against both Toni and Jake with an ease and sociable manner she'd never seen in him elsewhere. She studied his youthful features, troubled that she had worked with him for two years without knowing even where he was from or what college he attended. Their fast-paced office didn't give either of them the time for personal chats. Watching him, she realized how little she knew about the man she'd worked so closely with.
The Eric she thought she knew would never have worn jeans.
She stirred her drink absently, her eyes following the beautiful, petite blond—Lily—as she sauntered up to Jake with a suggestive smile. She rested a hand on Jake’s arm, maneuvering in front of him to stand as closely as possible while she gazed up at him with her large, doll-like blue eyes.
Madeleine rolled her eyes and looked away in agitation. Toni’s smile widened from across the table as he caught her eye. Eric’s gaze, too, fell on the blond, but he frowned with unusual grimness.
“Jake, you’re up!” Toni bellowed.
Jake moved away from the blond, and Madeleine caught the twitch of his jaw. The man was hard to read, but she had begun to understand the exaggerated drawl and twitching jaw were signs of annoyance. Both occurred regularly around her.
Jake missed his ball, and Eric sprang forward, ending their match.
“I’ll buy the next round!” Eric called.
“The losers’re supposed to buy!” Jake said with a smile.
“It’s an honor! What’re you having?”
He took their orders and moved through the pool area to the stairs. She watched him go and looked at Jake as the large Texan shifted toward her. He rested his cue on the table and leaned against the wall beside her, sipping a beer. Dark eyes moved lazily over the room. His frame radiated heat, the woodsy scent of his aftershave tickling her nose.
Toni and Lily stepped to the table for a match.
“I need your help, sweetie,” Lily called in her honeyed voice, eyes on Jake.
“You can manage,” he said without looking at her.
Madeleine almost smiled. Lily batted her long eyelashes and gave another smile before turning away and making a scene of bending over the table until the miniskirt nearly revealed everything beneath. Jake ignored her, turning to face Madeleine. He boxed her in, his left hand on the table and his large, heated body before her. She leaned her head back to meet his gaze.
“Sorry about today,” he started.
“Too late to change things now,” she said. “Thank you for trying.”
“Just doing my job,” he said. “Can I expect to see you leave the site more often?”
“Probably not. Mr. Howard still wants the building complete in far shorter time than is feasible. It’ll be harder for me to push for funding after—sorry. I shouldn’t have mentioned that.”
She searched his face, waiting for him to jump all over the financial aspect like a normal businessman should. It was Jake’s turn to shrug.
“We’ve known there was a funding issue,” he replied, unconcerned.
“That doesn’t bother you?” she prodded. “Back east, you’d have cancelled the contract by now.”
“We’re not back east,” he said with an edge, raising an eyebrow.
“You really hated it there, didn’t you?”
“Not my kinda place. Too rushed, too many people concerned about things that don’t really matter,” he said.
“People like me.”
“Yeah.”
“You don’t always act like you despise me,” she said, resting her head against the wall behind her. His gaze fell to her mouth.
“I’ve never despised you, Madeleine.”
“So that whole, last person on the face of the earth …”
“I didn’t say you don’t drive me crazy.”
“You know, you—” she started, straightening in her chair. Her face grew hot.
“There’s the spark. Haven’t seen it in a few days.” Jake cut her off with a small smile. “Yes, Madeleine, you drive me crazy. Your priorities are damn screwed up, but you’re a solid, honest person, so I can’t truly despise you.”
“My priorities are screwed up?” she echoed. “You know nothing about me, Jake. Coming from a typical ego-driven man, I’d say that means you think I pay too much attention to things other than you!”
“Bingo.”
She stared at him, unwilling to read more into his words but her heart quickening nonetheless. He continued to gaze at her with a directness that made her uncomfortable. She felt trapped by her own attraction to him once again. He planted his booted foot on the bottom rung of the barstool and rested his knee against the wooden seat between her legs, preventing her from rising.
“Going somewhere?” he asked with deliberate casualness.
There was a challenge in his gaze that made her body heat and pulse double. She wanted to wiggle away from him, get the hell away, and regain herself and control of the situation.
“To the bathroom,” she shot back in a voice she hoped sounded cool.
He leaned closer to her until their faces were inches apart. She heard and felt his breath and could only gaze at him. Dark eyes the color of melted chocolate captured her with their intensity, and she felt heat bloom and spread through her.
“You, Madeleine Winters, are a coward.”
His voice was low and silky, the tension between them brittle. He dropped his foot from the stool and turned away without moving far. She stood for a quick escape, her face and body hot. Lightheadedness made her reach for the table to steady herself. She drew a deep breath, surprised to find herself breathing fast.
As she stepped away, she sought to convince herself it was the alcohol affecting her and not the six feet of solid male who had just told her in his own weird way that he was interested in her. She spent fifteen minutes in the bathroom trying to convince herself he didn't mean it, and even if he did, it didn't matter. When she felt settled, she returned to the pool room to find all five of them huddled around the small table. A tray of shot glasses filled with a warm golden liquid were in the center of the table with empty shot glasses around it.
Jake and Eric each took a shot as she walked in. Eric choked, but Jake gave a satisfied growl as he slapped the glass down on the table.
“C’mere, city-girl,” Toni said, gripping her arm as she approached.
“No, I’m not—”
“I dare you.”
At Jake’s words, she stopped mid-sentence. Fifteen minutes in the bathroom couldn't take away the desire bubbling within her. It did nothing to diminish the sexy Texan’s chiseled features, hard body, or the look of pure challenge in his eye that made her want to prove to him she wasn't the coward he claimed she was.
“Fine. What do I do?” she demanded.
“Drink!” Toni exclaimed, and pushed two shots of tequila toward her.
“Cheers!” Jake raised his shot glass.
Madeleine glared at him but clinked her glass to his and tossed back her head. Fire slid down her throat. She forced back a gag and dropped the shot glass to the table.
“That all you got?” she retorted. Jake smiled, his eyes taking in her face and resting on her mouth once more.
“City-girl can drink,” Toni yelled.
“Let’s see what you can do,” Jake said. “Three shots. First one done wins. You up?”
“Yes!”
He set three shot glasses before her and glanced at Toni.
“Ready, set, go!”
Toni’s cry would be one of the last memories she had of the night.