Playing for Keeps (5 page)

“Um . . .” Olivia gave her a sheepish look.

“Oh, no . . .” Madison stomped her Jimmy Choo ballerina flats that she got for a steal on eBay. “There’s more, isn’t there?”

“Jason is due here soon for a short meeting.”

Madison felt a bit of warm anticipation slide down her spine at the thought of seeing him but hoped she hid it well. “No problem. I’ll just scoot before he arrives. You can answer any questions he might have.”

“Well . . .” Olivia wrung her hands together . . . Not a good sign.

Madison groaned. “Oh, please, just spit it out.”

“I have a, um, parent-student conference, so you will have to meet with Jason,” she said, apologizing in a rush.

“No!”

“Just this one time.”

“Olivia!”

“Sorry! I have to run.” Olivia turned so quickly that she nearly bumped into Jason Craig as he was coming through the doorway. “Hi, Jason. Madison is waiting. I’m very,
very
late for a meeting.”

“Okay,” Jason answered with a slightly perplexed expression and moved aside. “Catch ya later, Teach.” He watched her walk away and then shook his shaggy blond head before turning his attention to Madison. “Hey, whaddup, Maddie?” he asked in his slow Southern drawl that always reminded Madison of honey dripping off of a hot biscuit.

“I won’t even waste my breath telling you not to call me Maddie,” she grumbled.

“Smart move,” Jason answered and flashed Madison a grin that never failed to make her heart race and tick her off at the same time. “It just seems to fit you better, since you always find a way to make me mad as hell.”

“Through no fault of my own.”

“Right . . .” He drew the word out with the arch of one blond eyebrow. He had the nerve to look ruggedly sexy in dusty work boots, beat-up jeans, and a cobalt blue T-shirt, which stretched across his wide shoulders and bulging biceps, testing the limits of the short sleeves. After sitting down on a folding chair, he lifted his shoulders and rolled his head as if he was worn out. Madison knew from watching him work at her aunt’s diner that he pushed himself to exhaustion, and she suddenly longed to walk over and massage his neck and shoulders. “So tell me about these sets I’m going to build.”

“Do you have time for this project, Jason?” She tried to keep concern out of her voice but failed.

“Don’t worry about your play. I’ll make time and do it right.”

Madison was more worried about him overextending himself, but she left it at that. “Could I get you something to drink? Water? Coke?”

“A beer?” he asked hopefully.

“Sorry.”

Jason sighed. “Then can we take this meeting down to Sully’s? I really need a cold one and some hot food. It’s been a long day.”

Madison hesitated. Sully’s was a cozy little corner tavern with dim lighting, tiny booths, and close barstools. The crowd at Sully’s tended to be an eclectic mix of patrons, and Madison loved to people-watch and listen to the animated conversations. In reality the comfort-food chalkboard specials were tasty, but what she didn’t want was to bump knees with Jason Craig.

“Is it that tough of a question?” Jason leaned back in his chair so far that Madison was afraid he might tip over but refrained from telling him to sit up straight because that was precisely what he wanted her to do. “Let me guess—Sully’s isn’t good enough for you, Maddie?”

She ground her teeth together. “Of course it is. I’m just not hungry,” she replied, but then her stomach had the audacity to growl loudly.

“Really?” Jason looked at her for a long, sulky moment, and then his boots hit the floor with a thump. “Look, just forget it. Just give me whatever paperwork I need and call me when it’s time to start.”

When he stood up Madison shook her head in apology. “Jason . . .”

He held up one hand. “It’s fine. I get it.”

“Get what?”

He gave a short laugh. “Nothin’,” he grumbled, but when he pushed to his feet and reached over to grab his jacket, Madison’s eyes widened in alarm.

“Jason, what in the world did you do?”

“Since it’s you asking, I have no clue.”

Madison took a step closer and pointed to his arm. “You’re bleeding.”

“What?” He bent his shaggy head but shrugged.

“On the back of your biceps,” Madison told him. She reached for a napkin left over from the elephant ear and dabbed at his arm.

“I must have scratched it on a nail. Ouch! Just leave it alone.”

“Oh, stop it, you big baby. Hold still. I have a first-aid kit here somewhere.”

“I’m fine, Maddie. It’s just a damned scratch. Believe me, I’ve done much worse.” He tugged his arm away.

She scrunched up her nose while examining the wound. “It’s nasty and needs to be disinfected.”

“I said I’m fine.”

“Don’t be stupid.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I’ve learned my lesson,” he answered, making Madison wonder just what he meant. He looked up from the scratch and met her eyes. He was a good head taller than her, adding to his gruff masculine appeal. He smelled like the outdoors and spicy aftershave, and damned if he didn’t make frat boys and metrosexual men pale in comparison.

“Don’t move, okay?”

“Still bossy as ever.” He sighed. “Go get a bandage if it makes you happy.”

“I’ll be right back.” Madison hurried into the bathroom and located the first-aid kit. One look at her flushed cheeks in the mirror told her that Jason Craig still had the power to make her pulse race. Madison had been taught to be strong and independent by her mother and aunt Myra, and perhaps it was because Jason had a way of making her feel the desire to be wrapped in his arms that she shied away. Weakness was something that she detested and probably one of the reasons she felt the need to be tough around him . . . when what she really wanted was to fall into his arms. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. No one, not even her mother, knew how afraid she was of this play bombing! Olivia was right: The financial future of Cricket Creek Community Theater was hanging by a thread. Not only that, but her aunt Myra and her mother had just sunk a huge chunk of their savings into remodeling the diner, and the success of the production really could make a huge difference. Bringing back tourism for the summer could not only save the community center but potentially rejuvenate the entire town.

Madison took another deep breath and pushed the bathroom door open. She lifted her chin and put her tough-girl expression back on before entering the room. Jason sat on the edge of the table with the napkin against his arm. Since he was hunched down, she was nearly faceto-face with him, and out of nowhere came the memory of how amazing it felt to kiss him. She swallowed hard and tried to concentrate on his arm instead of his mouth.

“I can do it,” Jason said after she fumbled with the small packet and unfolded the antiseptic wipe. But when he held out his hand Madison waved him off.

“It’s on the back of your arm, Jason. You can barely see it. Just sit still and let me fix you up.” When she touched his arm he flinched. “Did I hurt you?” she asked with more gentleness than she wanted, but a muscle was jumping in his jaw.

“No, it was just cold,” he said gruffly, making her wonder if it was more than that.

“Sorry,” Madison said and then grimaced. “This really is a nasty scrape.” She lifted her head just as he tilted his backward to look, and his mouth brushed against her cheek. Madison felt a hot tingle all the way to her toes but pretended she didn’t notice his warm mouth against her skin. “You should be more careful,” she grumbled as she reached for another packet.

“I didn’t mean to kiss you.”

She feigned ignorance and then looked up with raised eyebrows. “Kiss me?”

“As you wish, Princess.” He slid his hand behind her head and lowered his mouth to hers.

When Madison opened her mouth to protest, Jason took it as an invitation and deepened the kiss. Her
no
sounded like a moan—okay, it
was
a moan—and when his tongue touched hers a jolt of pure heat had the packet slipping from her fingers. Her hands slid over the contours of his hard chest and into his long hair that she pretended not to like when in fact she thought it was wild and sexy. She stood between his legs and kissed him back, savoring the feel of his soft lips and hot mouth. His tongue tangled and teased, and he kissed her with bold male thoroughness before pulling back to lightly lick her bottom lip. But when Madison thought he was finished, he moved his mouth to her neck, sending a hot shiver down her spine. She tilted her head and sighed, wanting to back away, but she simply could not bring herself to do so. His big, capable hands spanned her waist, pulling her closer, and when he kissed her again, she clung to his shoulders and kissed him back like it was her job. She could feel the heat of his skin, the ripple of muscle, and she simply melted into his arms.

When the kiss finally ended, Madison rested her forehead against his while trying to gather her scattered wits. They were both breathing hard but remained silent.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” she said and when she would have pushed away his hands tightened on her waist.

“You asked me to.”

“I most certainly did not.” She meant to sound huffy, but it came out breathless.
Damn!

“You said . . .
kiss me
.”

“I didn’t . . . Well, not like that!” she sputtered and pushed against his chest. “It was a question!”

“And I answered.”

“Let me go!” she demanded and pushed harder, even though she wanted to fist her hands in his shirt and kiss him all over again. Oh, she was going to get Olivia back for this!

“Do you really want me to?” he countered in his slow Southern drawl, but there was something serious in his eyes that made Madison’s heart thump. When she swallowed but didn’t answer, his gaze fell away and he released her.

Madison stood there for a confused moment and then took a step back, but when he made a move to get up she put a hand on his thigh. “Let me cover the scrape.” She felt the muscle beneath the denim tense, but he gave her a choppy nod.

“Whatever. Make it quick. I’m thirsty and hungry.”

She gave him a choppy nod back and then bent her head to her task. After smoothing some ointment onto the scrape, she wrapped it in gauze and then taped the edges together. “Keep this on to protect it and make sure to put more ointment on later, okay?” Madison expected a comment about her being bossy, but when he merely nodded she felt a stab of disappointment and moved away for him to stand up.

Jason shrugged into his coat in silence, but when her stomach rumbled in empty protest once again he gave her a deadpan look. “Too bad you’re not hungry or we could grab a bite to eat.”

Madison felt heat creep into her cheeks but lifted her chin and said, “Yeah, too bad. Maybe some other time?”

“Right,” he mumbled and headed out the door without looking back.

Madison stood there for a long, confused moment and then sank into a chair. She closed her eyes and relived the amazing kiss and wondered why in the world she continued to fight her obvious attraction to Jason Craig. She hated that he thought she viewed his country-boy status as not being good enough for her big-city upbringing. That wasn’t the case at all. Sure, she missed Chicago, but Cricket Creek was her first home and she loved seeing her mother leave behind the stress of a four-star establishment to rescue her aunt Myra’s restaurant by turning it into the upscale yet homey Wine and Diner.

And while Jason might not wear a suit and tie, Madison admired his work ethic and his small-town values. With a groan she folded her arms on the table and rested her weary head. Right now she could be hanging out with a supersexy man who made it clear that he was into her. She could be sitting next to him in a booth noshing on wings, drinking a cold beer, and laughing like a twenty-three-year-old should be doing. She could be pressing her leg against his in an “accidentally on purpose” flirty way and maybe even stealing a kiss or two . . .

And so why wasn’t she?

Madison pressed her forehead against her arms and sighed. She knew the answer . . . well, at least partially. Her mother had been crushed by her parents and rejected by the boy she had given her virginity to as a trusting teenager. And Madison had watched her mother struggle but survive with no one but her aunt Myra for help and guidance. Both women had taught her to be fiercely independent and to rely on no one but herself. She had been encouraged to be driven and focused, and being with Jason made her feel vulnerable and exposed . . . in a word, scared.

Madison sighed. She knew that her writing was her emotional outlet because she could control fiction but not reality. Her work was tightly plotted and made perfect sense in the end . . . Oh, why couldn’t life be the same way?

She inhaled a deep breath and then blew it out while pushing herself to her feet. A frozen dinner and iced tea didn’t sound nearly as good as fried pickles, hot wings, and a tall beer. And while she loved her condo with the river view, a crowded little bar suddenly had more appeal. But how could she show up at Sully’s now? Impossible without swallowing her pride, but when she spotted the paperwork that Jason had left behind she smiled slowly and said, “There’s my ticket.” She slipped her arms into her pink corduroy jacket and tied the sash, turned off the lights, and locked the door behind her.

Madison’s knees felt a little shaky as she walked the short distance to Sully’s, but she squared her shoulders, pushed open the door, and searched the crowded room for Jason. He was seated at the bar but as if having Spidey sense, he turned on his stool as she walked toward him. When their eyes met, her heart lurched, but she gave him a cool smile and slapped the folder down on the bar. “Forgot this,” she said rather sharply, but when she turned on her heel to go, Jason put a warm, firm hand on her shoulder.

“No, I didn’t,” he admitted with a slow grin and then handed her a longneck, making her realize that he had been awaiting her arrival. “Bought this for ya.”