Leo Maddox (4 page)

There was no way in hell I’d answer that question honestly. “I could ask you the same question,” I reflected.

“I was going home.” Brushing the grass off her knees, she climbed back to her feet and plucked her shoes from the grass.

“Well, I was going home too,” I answered.

“Whatever.” Again she sighed dramatically—as if talking to me was the most painful thing imaginable. But then she surprised me by saying, “C'mon, I'll give you a ride back to your house. It's the least I can do for running you over.”

Instead of arguing, I simply followed her. I didn’t want to fight anymore. I didn’t want to say anything else that I would regret tomorrow. So I shut my mouth and climbed into the passenger seat of her golf cart.

She drove toward my house.

It was dead silent—nothing but us, the night sky, and the golf course. I rested my head on the back of the seat and enjoyed this small moment alone with her. The wind blew her hair around her shoulders and she drove on the cart path this time—no more joy-riding for her this evening.

Watching her drive…she was stunning. And, whether we were fighting or not, whenever I was with her, the bad stuff in life simply faded into the background. The man that someday would win her heart was going to be the luckiest man alive. I wished with all my being that that man could be me. Even fighting with her was better than spending time with anyone else. But I knew better. I had everything money could buy—but I would never have Clara.

I closed my eyes, suddenly too exhausted to keep them open.

And I must have drifted asleep because the next thing I knew the golf cart was stopping. “Leo. You're home,” Clara informed me as she poked my ribs to wake me.

Struggling to return to consciousness—since it had been over twenty-four hours since I’d last slept—I rolled from my seat and proceeded to fall straight out of the golf cart onto the hard cement below. My bruised leg cramped up on me and I could barely move. Clara hurried around the golf cart and came to my aide. I tried to tell her to stop and that I could manage on my own—but instead of listening, she took my arm, placed it over her shoulders, and led me toward my house.

Dammit. Exhaustion was getting the better of me. I tried to speak again, but my tongue felt heavy in my mouth. Clara helped me inside and up the stairs toward my room. I dropped like a heavy rock onto my mattress. Then, with my face already pressed into my comforter, I let sleep sweep me away. Clara was leaving. This strange night was over. Maybe in another six months some other family function would push us together again. Maybe by then I could learn how to be civil, pull my head out of my ass, and control my temper around her. Maybe the stars would align and I could tell her how much I loved her.

Maybe.

But as my father had pressed into my skull at an early age, I knew maybe was only a synonym for no. And with that final thought, sleep hit me.

* * *

A
t some point, just before dawn, I woke up in a sweat and still in my suit. My head was ringing and my room was too damn hot. I still had on my shoes for fuck’s sake. Stumbling out of bed, I stripped off all my clothing. I flung each piece of fabric across my room as I undressed—angry and annoyed.

What the hell was wrong with me?

I thought over the few moments I’d shared with Clara the night before. The least I could have done was to tell her goodbye. I hadn’t even managed that. No wonder the girl hated me so much.

Naked as the day I was born, I padded across my room toward my open door. The spot on my thigh was a little tender but feeling better.

I’d live. Unfortunately.

I shut the door and stumbled back across my vast room. Clara must have left the door open and I didn’t want Regina barging in on me in a few hours. She was out in the guest house, several yards away from the main house, but I expected her to come find me soon enough. She knew how to knock, so I didn’t bother locking the door. Opening a window, I then crawled back on top of my bed, face buried deep in my pillow, and fell asleep all over again.

The next thing I knew it was light out and I heard Regina’s voice. The noise came from the hall outside my bedroom door. Blinking the sleep from my eyes, I glanced across the room and saw the door ajar. “Hello, Miss Maggie,” I heard Regina say.

Great. Apparently Maggie was here bright and early. And fuck, I was still naked.

“This is a surprise,” Regina was saying to Maggie.
What was a surprise?
It didn’t matter. I just wanted to get the hell out of Blue Creek.

Quickly, not wanting either woman to see me, I slipped out of my bed and moved for my dresser. I pulled on the first pair of jeans and t-shirt I could find. It was time for me to get back to New York. Time for me to get back to reality. My grand plan of wooing the girl I loved had failed miserably. Now the only thing I had waiting for me was Sunday’s reopening.

“He’s sleeping,” came a whisper. “I’ve got to go.”

Holy Mother of all things holy.

It wasn’t Maggie speaking to Regina. That was Clara’s voice out in the hallway. Regina had never met Clara before and she must have mistaken the twins. My heart jumped around in my chest.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
I walked for my slightly ajar door.
Who had opened it? Regina or Clara? Dammit, what was Clara doing in my house?

“Nice seeing you,” Clara told Regina. Her back was to me as I peeked through the crack in the door. I think she was pretending to be Maggie, trying to say whatever she could so she could escape before I woke up.
Well, this sure as hell was a surprise.

“Regina, that's not Maggie,” my mouth blurted out as I nudged the door open wider. My throat was dry from sleep and my words sounded scratchy, but I fucking loved that Clara was still in my house. “That's Clara. Could you please give us a minute?”

Like the good employee that she was, Regina smiled politely, nodded, and walked away. Clara stayed frozen with her back to me, clearly not expecting me to have woken up. But that didn’t explain why she was here? She wore the same black dress she’d been in yesterday. Her hair was a tangled mess of blonde and pink. It was rumpled and sexy and had me slightly aroused. Then it occurred to me…Clara never left my house last night. She must have slept in one of the rooms. And just the thought of her sleeping in
my house
had my chest feeling all slippery inside. Breathing became difficult.
Was my door open because she’d been checking in on me? Was she concerned about my leg?

Wait…had she seen my bare fucking ass too?

Oh, God.

After a moment, Clara turned around and faced me. Her cheeks flushed red.
Flushed!
I smiled, unable to hide my feelings. She had definitely seen my ass. And if I wasn’t mistaken, I think she liked what she’d seen. She wouldn’t be so red right now if she hadn’t. Hell, she couldn’t even look me directly in the eyes.

“What are you still doing here?” I asked, very amused and slightly annoyed. My whole life I’d been waiting for her to notice me. And instead of noticing
me
, she’d noticed my body. But then again, hell, at least she’d noticed
something
about me. Praise Jesus my gold-digging mother had been a
hot
gold-digging mother and I’d gotten all my good looks from her.

Clara looked everywhere except directly at me. “I stayed last night—in your Grandma Bunny's room, I think—just to make sure you weren't going to die or anything.”

“Aww,” I mocked, having too much fun with this. “Who knew you cared for me, killer? That's sweet.”

“Well. Since you're alive and obviously
fine
,” she groaned, growing instantly annoyed with me. “I'll just let myself out.” She turned, ready to leave me.

“Clara, wait,” I said, my voice coming out rather desperate. Vulnerable, even. I hated to let so much emotion show, but I couldn’t let her leave. I just couldn’t. Not like this. She glanced back at me, over her shoulder, and her gaze drifted up to meet my eyes—finally. She inhaled a sharp breath as her gray eyes connected with mine. Her cheeks flushed all over again and she made no more attempts to leave.

What. The. Fuck. Was I imagining her reacting to me?

My teenage years were a blur and I’d fucked a lot of faceless girls during that time. I was celibate now, but that was beside the point. Nevertheless, I knew…without doubt, then and now…that I had a certain
effect
on women. Clara had always been immune to my charms. So what the hell was happening now? I had to be imagining this.

Clara’s face turned sheet white. No, I wasn’t imagining anything. Clara felt this too and I could tell it was scaring the shit out of her.

Suddenly Regina returned, interrupting us and pissing me off. It made me want to fire her on the spot. I thought I’d made it clear I wanted her to leave us alone seconds ago.

“Mr. Maddox. Miss Clara. I don't mean to keep interrupting, but Mr. Maddox, you're way behind schedule. The plane was scheduled to leave at ten. Should I cancel the first meeting? We could try to postpone, but that might be tricky.”

“What time is it?” I asked, peeling my eyes off Clara so I could glare at Regina.

“Almost eleven.”

“Dammit. Okay then...don't cancel or postpone anything. Not yet. Have Jeremy get ready to fly and I'll be downstairs in ten. Everything else is in order, I assume?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Thanks, Regina,” I said, ending our conversation. Regina disappeared down the hall, but I remained still. I watched Clara. I was so damn confused. “Want to go to New York with me?” I suddenly asked her, shocked by the boldness of my own words. But I had to try. I had to take this chance. Because I might not ever get another one.

Her jaw dropped a little. “What?”

My heart was racing, but I tried to play it off. I sighed, rubbing one hand over the back of my neck. Damn. I’d never been so nervous. I’d known Clara forever, but that didn’t change the fact that my stomach was a mess. “You heard me,” I told her, trying to talk in my usual fast way. “I'm leaving in ten minutes, so you can come or not. But I think you should come. You look like hell and I’ll bet you could use the break and the distance from Blue Creek. We've recently refurbished the Maddox Hotel in Manhattan. The big reopening is this weekend. I have tons of work and won't have a minute of free time for myself. But if you wanted...you could fly up there in the jet with me, stay in one of the executive suites, do whatever, and then come back with me early Monday morning. Are you supposed to be working for your dad this weekend?”

Did I actually care if Reed needed her to work at his country club this weekend? No. Did I actually think she looked like hell? Shit, no. Of course not. She was stunning. But I still worried about her recent decision to date Ass-Face Andrew. Something felt off with that, and with her. Something made me want to keep her close—whether I benefited from it or not.

Yes, I loved her. Yes, I wanted to practice making babies and marry her one day…if I could only break down all her walls. But above all else, I cared for her. The Ryder family was my family. She was my family. So my question for her to come to New York wasn’t completely selfish. That was the most shocking part of this conversation.

Because I was a very selfish person.

Clara hadn’t answered. Maybe she was in shock. Maybe she was weighting the options in her mind, trying to decide. One thing I knew for certain, she needed space. She always needed space when faced with a decision or when she was put under pressure. It was part of her personality. I can remember when we were kids, she’d often disappear or run off to her room—especially after an argument—needing time alone. She’d reemerge stronger than ever. She never showed her true feelings to anyone. But I secretly knew, something I learned long ago, that Clara had the kindest, biggest, most gentle heart under her thorny exterior. It was part of why I loved her so much. I only hoped that if something were to finally start between us—if this moment was about to define the rest of my life—that she could learn to let me in.

I stepped backward into my room. “I need to take a quick shower. The car's in the driveway, waiting to take me to the local airstrip where my jet is. If you want to come, then be in that car in ten minutes. Bye, Clara.”

I moved for my bathroom, but turned around to say one last thing.

“I think you should come.”

Not waiting for a response, I shut myself in the bathroom.

CHAPTER 5:

D
azed and confused. That was me. Currently. Standing in my shower.

The water ran down my face as I heavily breathed in and out. I stopped doing drugs when I was nineteen, so I knew I hadn’t just hallucinated Clara in my house.

“Calm the fuck down, Leo,” I said aloud. “She’s going to be in that car.”

But I couldn’t calm down and I didn’t really want to. I’d waited most of my life to feel this way. To have a chance. To have hope.

But was my hope wasted?

My mind jumped to a memory of Clara from last summer. We hadn’t seen much of each other this past year. And before this weekend, this incident was the last time we’d even spoken. And like always, one simple conversation between us had ended in hurtful words spoken.