Lovers' Dance (60 page)

“Sorry,” he said with a raspy voice before dragging his hand out from under my top.
The hell?

I leaned back, fighting the frown on my face. “What are you sorry for? Calling me an immature brat? Jacking up Bret? Stealing my whiskey? Or pussy teasing me? Because this teasing shit deserves an apology.”

Matt’s face reflected shock at my choice of words, then his tongue swept over his sexy lips as he waggled his eyebrows at me in a lecherous manner. “Say that word again, poppet,” he said, and I blushed furiously. It had slipped out.

“No,” I muttered self-consciously, and Matt chuckled.

“Go on, say it again. I’ve never heard you use such a term before. I’m not sure I like it, so you have to say it once again in order for me to decide if it’s too vulgar. Maybe more than once.”

“Idiot.” I unhooked my legs from around his waist and wriggled over the counter. Matt’s hands gripped my hips, holding me still.

“Once more, poppet,” he pleaded, and my face heated up again. He grinned at me, a devious glint in his eyes. “Blushing?”

“Black girls—”

“Don’t blush.” He laughed. “So you say, yet you are.”

I braced the palms of my hands against his chest and pushed. Matt stepped back, giving me that impish look. Honestly. For a thirty-seven-year-old gazillionaire, he liked messing about way too much.

“In response to your previous point though—” He got serious. “I’m not staying away again. We’re in a relationship and, in case you didn’t know, people in a relationship support each other during the hard times. I’m staying over and will be plastered to your side for the next few days, poppet. Accept it and move on.”

Bossy. Bossy. Infuriatingly bossy.

“There’s no need,” I said, frustrated as I hopped off the counter. It was bad enough he’d seen me in the state I was today. “I’ll be in the studio all day tomorrow, then Wednesday—” I broke off sharply, not wanting to think about my upcoming trip to the cemetery.

Matt saw the look on my face and moved towards me. I turned away, giving him my back. I grabbed a roll of kitchen towels and proceeded to tidy up the spilt beer on the floor. By the time I dumped the soggy towels and can in the bin, my emotions were encased behind a wall of longstanding denial. I was in control. I would get through this.

“Dante’s going to be with me anyway, Matt,” I said in an attempt to reassure him. “Plus, there’s nowhere for you to sleep tonight—”

“I beg your pardon?” The chilly tone of his voice gave me pause. “Explain yourself, poppet, because you’re not making any sense.”

“Well,” I started slowly, silently cursing in my head. “Um, Bret and Sol are in the spare room.”

“And?” His voice had dropped to a low growl. And it wasn’t the sexy kind.

My throat closed up. The expression on his face had my mind yelling, “Danger, Madison DuMont. Danger.”

Matt folded his arms across his chest, straightening up to his full intimidating height. “I know you’re not about to say what you’re about to say, Madison. I know you’re not implying that there’s no room in your bed because someone else is in it with you. I fucking know you are not telling me that for the past few nights Dante has been sleeping in your bed instead of on the couch. The same Dante who I know shouldn’t have keys to your front door anymore.”

Danger, Madison DuMont. Danger, danger, danger.

“I thought we weren’t fighting anymore, Matt?” I rubbed my neck, frantically thinking up ways to avoid an explosion of epic proportion. Would he try and jack Dante up too? Bret would jump in, Dante was his boy. Then Nathan might come to Matt’s assistance. And Sol wasn’t going to let anyone harm her man. Her half-Latino side was not to be messed with. Would Bella get involved? She didn’t look the type to get rowdy. But what if the brownies and the bit of alcohol she’d drunk made her see red when Sol beat the crap out of her man…and Sol was definitely capable of doing that.

USA vs. UK, and I had attachments to both. Which side would I have to pledge allegiance to? If the shit hit the fan, who would get splattered?

As the imagined, but totally possible scene unfolded before my eyes, Matt waited silently, bristling like a porcupine that had been disturbed.

I started in a small voice. “He is my best fri—”

Matt was already striding towards the kitchen door.
Danger, danger, danger.

“Matt.” I went after him. Unfortunately I must not have mopped up all the spilt beer, because my right sock-clad heel hit a wet patch and I let out a high-pitched shriek as I collided into Matt’s back. He grunted from the sudden impact, and we both toppled to the ground. At least my fall was cushioned, Matt wasn’t so lucky.

“Bloody hell, poppet.” He groaned, cheek pressed to the floor. “There’s no need to attack me from behind. No need at all.”

“It was an accident,” I gushed, laying on top of Matt’s back and taking a few seconds to catch my breath. Keeping him flat out on the tiles was an unexpected advantage. The danger might not have been averted yet. Matt wriggled beneath me, and I slid off him as he tried to sit up. The door swung open and five astonished pairs of eyes battled to see what was going on. They must have heard the commotion.

“I told you he was rough with her,” Dante exclaimed to Bret as he came into the kitchen and manhandled me up on my feet. Matt made a low sound in the back of his throat, like a warning, as he sat up fully.

Bret walked in. “He’s rough with you, MSG? Nah, man, I ain’t having this shit. This brother about to get mad up in here.”

“What’s happening, Nathan?” Bella tried to ease past Nathan, who got shouldered back by Sol.

“
Que paso
?” she asked, eyeing Matt with suspicion.

“Matt, are you okay?” Nathan asked. “What’s going on? What did she do to you?”

I looked at Matt scowling on my kitchen floor with a lock of his silky black hair over his forehead and his shirt partly unbuttoned. Respectable business tycoon didn’t fit right at this moment. Pissed off hottie was more suitable. The giggle slipped out. Matt narrowed his eyes at me. The grey orbs sparkling with annoyance. I giggled again before taking it down from Defcon 1 to Defcon 3. No way would I be able to get Matt to Defcon 5 level, not after admitting my recent sleeping arrangements. I honestly didn’t know why he was stressing. Dante had a girlfriend, and we’d been friends forever. Sharing the same pillows didn’t mean anything, did it? It was like sleeping with Sol…well, kind of. Sol didn’t wake up with a—

“Okay,” I said loudly to quiet the words in my head and diffuse the drama. “D, I told you before, Matt’s not rough with me.” I smirked at Bret. “Dude, if I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a million times: You’re white, not black. And Matt is way stronger than you. No one is getting mad up in here.” I used air quotations. It was necessary when dealing with Bret.

Sol nodded in agreement.

I arched an eyebrow at Nathan. “What did
I
do to him? He’s twice my size, Nathan. Get real.” Then I smiled at Bella. “I hope the food wasn’t too spicy, Bella. I can make you something else if you want.”

Everyone began to speak at once. I looked down at Matt and smiled. He always made me smile, when we weren’t yelling at each other, of course.

The annoyance on his face faded away as he watched me. I held a hand out to him and he took it. Seconds later, he was on his feet and I was topping up my quota of ‘Matt hugs’.

“We’re not going to fight anymore today,” he whispered in my ear. “But keep your schedule free on Friday, because we will be having words, poppet.”

I nodded into the crook of his neck—being on tiptoes gained me access—and I kissed his collarbone before pulling away. I would deal with Friday when it came. Surviving Wednesday was my main concern.

We trooped back into the cramped dining room and the conversation flowed easily, bar the threatening glances and tone Matt had whenever addressing Dante. He was possessive, and I didn’t know why. Then, I remembered that witch ex-girlfriend of his, and the way random women would sex him with their eyes whenever we were in public. I could understand it a little. The green-eyed monster dwelled within me, too.

By the time Nathan said he was taking Bella home, I hadn’t figured out how to convince Matt to give me my space. Bella was beaming at us, giving hugs to each of my friends and her posh voice got posher it seemed when she was buzzed. She’d been in the brownies again, and her perfect messy bun was more messy than bun, her cheeks had a rosy tint to them and she was eye humping Nathan. I tried my hardest not to catch the secret glimpses between them. Because Bella had driven here, Nathan was taking her car and leaving his for Matt. And seven became five. After an hour of Sol interrogating Matt in the nicest possible way—nice for Sol that is; there was mention of torture thrown in between her questions—I slipped upstairs to nab Matt’s discarded tie and jacket, then came back down with the clothing slung over my arm. Not very subtle.

Matt bit the corner of his lower lip. He did it out of frustration, but ended up looking sexy as hell. Sol looked over at me and mouthed “Hot stuff.” Yeah. Wasn’t he just?

“Everyone say bye bye to Matt,” I said walking over to where he sat on the couch. My friends bid him goodbye, and I tapped my foot slightly. Matt sighed and reluctantly stood up, hands held out for his jacket and tie.

“Walk me out?” he asked.

I nodded and slid my hand into his. We headed for the front door. Matt paused to glance at my friends, his gaze resting on Dante.

“Palmer,” he called, and Dante twisted his head, eyebrow raised in question.
Oh crap.
What was Matt going to say? “Your imprint better be on that sofa, and not Madi’s bed, when next I come by. Sol, Bret, nice meeting you both. Have a good flight home.”

He flashed them a killer smile and tugged me forward. I rolled my eyes as he opened the front door and we walked out together. My lack of shoes had gone unnoticed by Matt. He juggled his jacket on his arm, while plucking Nathan’s car keys from his pocket.

“Matt,” I murmured on approach to the flashy car. “I’m sorry for not—” The words stuck in my throat.

Matt waited silently, giving me a much-needed moment to get my thoughts straight. When that moment turned into a minute, he pressed quietly, “Sorry for what, poppet?”

“Not being the perfect girlfriend,” I muttered, before looking away from his intense gaze.

Matt sighed and reached over to grasp my chin, tilting my head back in his direction. “Perfection is highly overrated, poppet. If I wanted the perfect girlfriend, I would be with someone like Louisa.”

My eyes narrowed at that comment. Urgh. Louisa, previously known as Aphrodite, now named Medusa in my mind. “I’m far from perfect, Matt. Today proved that.”

“Yes,” Matt agreed with the tiniest of frowns. “But we’ll discuss that on Friday. How are your friends getting to Heathrow tomorrow?” He changed the subject, but the frown on his lips didn’t disappear. I was beginning to dread this upcoming Friday.

“I’m driving—”

“No, you’re not.” Matt cut me off in a tone that brooked no argument. “I’ll send a car around for your use tomorrow. It’s highly improbable you’ll be under the limit by the time they need to leave. If you get stopped, you’ll be arrested and it’ll be in the papers.”

I didn’t think I would be over the limit tomorrow, but better safe than sorry, and they did have an early flight.

“You have a point there, but you don’t need to send a car. We can get a taxi.”

Matt scoffed. “Heading to Heathrow on a weekday? It’ll cost a fortune. The car will be here at five am. Sol said their flight is at nine, right? Afterward, he’ll take you to work and bring you back home when you’re finished at the studio.”

It would have taken too much effort to disagree with him, so I didn’t. “Thanks, hon.”

We exchanged silent stares, then I went up on tiptoes to kiss him square on the lips. “I’ll be better next week. I promise, Matt. I won’t embarrass you like this again. Will you let Nathan and Bella know I’m not usually this way, please?”

Matt pulled back. I thought I would have been able to kiss that frown off his lips. “I told you before, poppet. You could never embarrass me. Now, go back inside. You’ve only got socks on. I’ll call you later; answer your mobile.”

I nodded slowly, then walked away. When I stood in front the door, I turned to see Matt watching me.

“I love you, Matthew Bradley,” I yelled at the top of my voice. Ha! That would embarrass him.

Matt looked around startled, and rubbed a hand across his lower face. He shook his head and sent me a wide smile, mouthing “Love you, too.”

I waved as he got in his friend’s car and drove off. He had seen me acting a fool on my birthday and he hadn’t run a mile. Maybe, just maybe, Matt was potentially my forever man. So what if our relationship hadn’t hit the six month mark yet and we had a lot to learn about each other? I walked in my house and three pairs of eyes swivelled in my direction.

“He’s nice, MSG,” was the first thing out of Sol’s mouth. Her expression was solemn, almost sad. “But he’s going to break your heart. As hot as he is, he’s way too old for you, MSG.”

I shut my door, shrugging as I peeled off my socks and flung them aside. “He won’t break my heart, and he’s not too old, Sol.”