His dad laughed gleefully. “She ain’t my ex no more thanks to your dime. She’s gonna come down and see me in El Paso in a couple weeks.”
Adam was sure she would. As long as his idiot father had some of Adam’s spare cash to blow on her.
“Well, are you going to help me out, or what?”
Or what, Adam wanted to say, but instead he said, “I’ll wire you enough cash for some gas—”
“And supper?” Dad interrupted. “I ain’t ate nothing all day, and you know I need to have something in my gullet when I take my pills.”
Adam’s stomach sank at the mention of the pills. His father’s most current overdose had done even more injury to his aging heart. They’d discovered the damage after the overdose. The doctor had said he’d probably had a heart attack over a year ago, but hadn’t had the sense to go to the hospital with his chest pains. Fucking idiot. Someone had to look after him. Adam hoped Jose could keep him under control better than Adam could. Jose was an okay guy. He had a criminal record, sure, but he’d served his time and was walking a straight and narrow path now. At least he was according to Adam’s father.
“And supper,” Adam conceded. “But that’s it. I’ll send Jose money for your half of the rent and utilities directly.” Since the old man was entirely untrustworthy with a stack of cash.
“Yeah, yeah. I fucked up again. You knew I would. Why do you sound disappointed?”
“Can I talk to him?” Madison asked.
Adam turned his head to gawk at her. Why in the hell would she want to talk to his father? She’d taken the phone from Adam’s hand before he could refuse.
“Mr. Taylor?”
“Who the hell is this?”
Adam was close enough that he could hear his father’s boisterously loud voice.
“I’m Madison Fairbanks. I’ve been wanting to meet you.”
“Why?”
“I’ve been treating your son.”
“Treating him?” The old man chortled. “You mean banging him. He told me about you.”
Madison glanced at Adam, her blue eyes wide with curiosity.
Adam looked away. Yeah, he’d discussed her with his father last weekend and had explicitly forbidden Dad from fucking things up for him by being himself around Madison.
“Our relationship has progressed with time,” Madison said, a hint of amusement in her tone, “but initially I was his rehab counselor.”
“You can lead a junkie to rehab, but you can’t scrub him clean.” The old man apparently thought he was hilarious as he cackled with glee.
“That’s true,” Madison said. “Getting clean is a lot of hard work. A person has to want to be clean to stay that way. Do you want to get clean, Mr. Taylor?”
Adam scowled at the floor. He still wasn’t one hundred percent sure he wanted to be clean. He did know he never wanted to disappoint Madison. She’d worked so hard to get him clean. He planned to stay that way. For her. He could do anything—no matter how challenging—as long as it was for her.
And soon—very soon—she would be his legally.
Chapter Eleven
Adam directed the bike onto a desolate road in some long-forgotten bayou. He parked on the shoulder and turned to Madison, who was holding his waist.
He took his helmet off and accepted hers as well, watching her run her fingers through her curls and loving the way the sunlight dappled her body through the scattered leaves overhead. Near the road, the trees weren’t so dense, but the canopy thickened over the green-tinged water that rocked in gentle waves beneath the strange twisted roots of the mangrove trees.
He slapped at a mosquito buzzing near his ear and offered Madison an arm so she could climb from the back of the bike.
“Well, you wanted to see a real bayou while you were here,” he said. “What do you think?”
“It smells funny,” she said with a laugh.
Adam covered his nose against the offending odors of wet decay and funk. “Is funny another word for bad?”
“In this case?” She pursed her lips and then crinkled her pert, freckled nose. “Yes.”
He laughed and climbed from the bike to stand beside her. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, so glad that the discomfort between them the night before had been chased away by the morning sun. As far as he could tell, they were back to their normal, easy camaraderie. The woman, and her ability to forgive, amazed him. He’d already forgiven her for her wild times at the club the night before, and he was working very hard on forgetting. The forgetting was a little more of a challenge. Especially when she flinched every time she sat down.
He drew her closer to his side. It was the simple moments when they were alone and silent—touching but not overly physical—that he relished with her. But he felt sort of stupid for feeling that way. Sex with Madison was always spectacular, and he knew he should cherish that intimacy most, but he’d never been with a woman long enough to feel completely comfortable with her—not necessarily inside her, just with her. The emotional part of being with a woman was entirely new to him, and damned if she didn’t have the power to destroy him.
He held her against him, fingertips toying with her now frizzy curls, as they stared out into the murky, smelly waters and tried to decide if the large, elongated object floating near a particularly gnarly mangrove root was a log or an alligator. They slapped at mosquitoes and watched a heron wade near the shore hunting for fish, laughing when the bird noticed them and flapped its expansive white wings.
Content and happy. Adam rarely had moments when he felt either. This was one of those rare times.
Adam slipped the tip of his little finger into the warm ring nestled deep in the pocket of his jeans. He stroked the smooth and warm metal, wondering if he should go through with this crazy idea of his or wait until he was sure she wanted to marry him. They’d never actually talked about marriage, but he knew that family was important to her, and if he married her, he’d not only be her friend and her lover, he’d be her family. If their relationship was strong enough to get through last night without irreparable harm, then marriage would be a snap. Wouldn’t it? Of course it would.
He supposed there was no use in putting off the inevitable. He wanted her as his wife, so why wait?
Adam wasn’t one to get down on one knee and ask for anything, but he’d make the concession for Madison. She’d given him his life back; he loved her; she deserved the best. The best ring. The best proposal. The best husband.
Well, at least he knew the ring was good.
Adam took a deep breath, pulled the ring from his pocket, and sank to one knee in the soft moss at Madison’s feet.
Her eyebrows drew together in confusion as she stared down at him. Her lovely heart-shaped face made his heart thud just from looking up at her.
“Are you okay?” she asked, tilting her head to look behind him to see why his leg had suddenly given out.
He couldn’t help but chuckle around the nerves churning in his belly. “I’m perfect,” he said. Perfectly insane.
He took her right hand in his before remembering he was supposed to put the ring on her left ring finger. He kissed her knuckles before reaching for her other hand. Apparently the gesture made her realize what he was about to do. Her eyes widened, and her face went pale. She swayed slightly, and he wondered if she was about to faint.
“Adam!”
“Madison,” he began, searching for words and finding few. Perhaps he should have thought this through a little more. Not asking her to marry him—he knew without a doubt he wanted her to be his wife—but the actual proposal. He probably should have come up with something a little more romantic than a spur of the moment proposal in a bayou loaded with mosquitoes, a heron and maybe an alligator as their only witnesses. “I saw this ring and could think of nothing but how much I want to see it on your finger. How much I want you to be my wife. I love you, Madison. Will you marry me?”
He held the ring suspended over the tip of her ring finger, waiting for one
three-letter word to leave her lips and greet his ears.
Her hand closed unexpectedly, preventing him from slipping the engagement ring on, and she took a step back.
“Adam,” she said in that calm, rational voice she used with her clients. The same voice she’d used on him so many times when he’d been going through treatment.
His breath caught, and the feminine fist he held clutched desperately in his hand seemed to punch straight through his breastbone and rip his heart free of his impossibly constrictive chest. Why wasn’t she squealing with excitement? Why wasn’t she wrapped in his arms and kissing his lips, pressing her body against him? Why wasn’t she wearing his ring? Why hadn’t she said yes?
“Madison,” he said, her name a whispered breath of anguish.
“This is rather sudden,” she said. “I—I don’t know what to say.”
“Say you love me,” he said, not sure why her face was so blurry all of a sudden. “Say you want me. Say yes.”
“Adam, I do love you,” she said calmly.
He didn’t believe her. Not when she said it like that.
“We need to talk about this.”
He didn’t want to fucking talk about it. He wanted her to accept him. All of him. He shot to his feet and crammed the ring back into his pocket. She reached for his arm, but he shrugged off her piteous touch. Had she ever truly loved him, or had it always just been pity?
God-fucking-damn it. Why had he ever trusted her with his heart? Why had he ever thought she’d want it?
He stalked to the Harley and climbed on. Whenever he wanted to escape what was currently eating him alive—it seemed to change on a daily basis—he took his bike for a long ride. But even as he started the engine, he knew running off wouldn’t work this time. He couldn’t escape Madison. She was under his skin. Lodged deep in his heart. And he couldn’t leave her here among snakes and other dangerous creatures.
“Get on the bike,” he said.
“Adam . . .”
“Get on the goddamned bike, Madison!”
Hands knotted in the hem of her T-shirt, she just stood there staring at him. “You aren’t leaving me here?”
That stung almost more than her rejection. “I love you enough to ask you to marry me, but you don’t think I love you enough to give you a ride?”
“But you’re mad.”
“I’m not mad,” he said. Hurt. Broken. Gutted. Worthless, hopeless, and devastated. Yes, all those things. But not mad.
“I’m sorry.” She blinked back tears, and if she started crying then he was going to be mad. She didn’t have the right to cry over this. He was the one who should be crying.
He ripped his gaze from her, stared straight ahead, and revved the engine. “Get on.”
“Adam, I—”
He clenched his teeth. “Get. On.”
“I think . . . I should go . . . home,” she said.
“Then I’ll take you to the airport,” he said, forcing his voice to remain calm. “But I’m not leaving you here.”
“Adam, I just need some time to think things over. This would be a big step for me. For us. I’m not sure we’re ready. Maybe if we talk about it—”
“I don’t want to talk about this now,” he said, revving the engine again.
“Then when?” she said.
“Maybe after I get my guts shoved back inside where they belong.” He released a small huff of breath and shook his head. This was why he pushed people away. Exactly this. He had a low tolerance for pain. Not physical pain—he could take his fair share of that. But every time he let someone in, they hurt him. This emotional bullshit had always ripped him apart. He couldn’t stand it. He had to escape somehow. On his bike. In his music or his art. With drugs or sex or some other vice. And since the only route available to him at the moment was the Harley, he revved the engine again.
Madison touched his sleeve, but he couldn’t bring himself to look at her. He knew she’d be staring at him with pity, and that was the last fucking thing he wanted at the moment. And if she understood him, she’d know that.
Chapter Twelve
Madison clung to Adam’s hips and pressed her face against his back, fighting tears and trying to breathe through the tight knot in her throat. She didn’t want to hurt him, but knew it was too late for that.
How could he just ask her to marry him out of the blue like that? And why had it shocked her so much? She was still trembling.
They just needed to talk through this. Marriage was a huge step and while she wanted to settle down someday, she wasn’t sure now was the right time. She didn’t want to rush into something so monumental. She’d had no idea Adam had even considered marriage as an option. And while her heart was vying for the chance to call Adam her husband, she couldn’t seem to ignore the doubts placed there by everyone who didn’t think they stood a fighting chance to maintain any relationship, much less one as important as husband and wife.
And then there was the fact that he didn’t want kids. And had never discussed the topic with her. He never discussed anything with her. How could they make a marriage work if he kept things from her? Important things. At least they were important to her. He blew them off as if they were frivolous.
By the time they reached the hotel, she had almost calmed down enough to think. She still wasn’t sure what to say to him to make things right. She wanted to be his friend, his lover, his woman. But did she want to be his wife? The reckless part of her that Adam had awakened wanted to forge headlong into the future and accept his proposal right there, but the ingrained part that always held her back with fear wanted to retreat.
Adam parked the bike and just sat there.
“Adam?” she said after an unbearably long minute of silence.
“Get off.”
She scrambled from the back of the bike, using his arm for stability. She removed her helmet and waited. The sinking feeling in her stomach and her heart was almost too much to bear.
“We can talk about this,” she said. She wanted to talk about it. So she could figure out what was in his head before attempting to tackle what was going on in hers.
“Can you go up to the room alone?” he said quietly. “I need a minute.”
“Adam, it’s not that I—”
“Please.” His voice sounded thready. Desperate. She’d never heard him sound like that before.
“Okay,” she said. “But we need to talk.”
She tried to hand him her helmet, but his hands tightened around the handlebar grips, so she set it on the ground near his heavy leather boot.
“Soon,” she added, before turning away. “We need to talk soon.”
She headed through the parking garage toward the elevator, hoping he’d call after her saying he was ready to talk now. Praying she hadn’t destroyed the bond between them.
She stepped onto the elevator and pressed the button for the lobby. Just before the door slid shut, she saw him remove his helmet and wipe at his eyes with the heel of his hand. Her heart shattered as the doors slid shut.
She had to make this right. Or at least make him feel confident in her feelings for him until she could make a sound decision about their future. She knew he wasn’t ready to talk. It would take time for him to open up. She knew that about him. And she could be patient. But how could she keep him from pushing her away when she’d hurt him so profoundly? First last night and again today.
She needed time to sort through it all, but Adam had never been a patient man. He was used to taking what he wanted, and if he couldn’t attain it, he moved on to the next thing. She didn’t want him to move on to the next thing. She loved him too much to let him get away.
She let herself into the empty hotel room, checking the hallway in both directions in hopes that he’d caught up with her before she closed the door.
They always connected best on an emotional level when they were connected on a physical level. So maybe if she could get him into bed, he’d realize that she still loved him, still wanted him, sti
ll needed him, and that maybe after she reflected on the idea of being his wife for longer than five seconds or even an hour, she’d want to marry him. But she wasn’t going to make any promises she didn’t intend to keep, no matter how much she wanted to spare his feelings.
She shed her clothes and climbed into bed, curling her body