Page 22 of New in Town

Maddie

Grey can cook. And cooking with him is proving to be a successful distraction. He puts on slow, gravely country music, humming along as he moves through the kitchen. When she insists on helping, he hands her a wooden spoon. “Stir,” he had instructs.

Each time he comes near, she feels her whole body react to him. The gentle brush of his fingers on the small of her back, alerting her to his presence. The feel of his breath on her neck when he reaches over her shoulder to deposit the ingredients in the pot.

She notices that he seems to move in time to the music as he works. Seeing him at home, on the ranch, is similar to the version of Grey she saw on the motorcycle. He’s at ease. Maddie enjoys seeing this version of him, it’s like getting a glimpse at a sacred side of him.

In fact, she has practically forgotten about the storm happening outside while they are in the kitchen together. Leaning back against the counter, she looks over at Grey as he grates parmesan over their plates. He has a dish towel over his shoulder and a look of determined focus pinching his brows together.

“You are being very precise with that cheese,” she comments.

“Presentation is everything,” he replies, turning to her with a crooked smile. He holds out a plate and motions for her to take a seat at the counter stools. “What would you like to drink? I have beer, and actually—” he reaches into an upper cabinet and withdraws a bottle of red. “Laurel brought it over for cards with Cooper maybe a year ago,” he says with a laugh.

She nods when she sees the wine, wondering how some annual checks on horses turned into a homecooked dinner and wine by the fire, in his clothes. As he pours drinks, she takes a bite of the pasta before her. “Oh my god,” she moans.

“Good?” he asks, his eyes twinkling as he watches her.

“Incredible.” She doesn’t even care that the moan that escapes her on the second bite is borderline pornographic. “Your parmesan ratio is just right.”

She savors every last bite. Slightly buzzed from the wine and fully sated, she sits back and curls her hands into the long sleeves of his sweatshirt. It smells like him, and she has been fighting the urge to bury her nose under the collar and inhale deeply. When he carries their plates to the sink, she dips her head down and draws in what is becoming her favorite smell.

“Go ahead over to the couch, I can bring you another glass of wine,” he says from across the kitchen.

“Are you sure I can’t help you?”

He responds wordlessly, pointing towards the living room.

“Got it,” she says, sliding off the stool and moving towards the fireplace. The flame Grey started before dinner has caught, and now a robust fire crackles before her.

She scans the bookshelves flanking the hearth. They are packed full, some books even lying across the tops of the rows. She studies the titles before her, noticing a variety of classic fiction, cowboy westerns, and memoirs. “Have you read every one?” she asks as he approaches.

“I have. Some twice.” His deep voice comes from mere inches away and she can feel his breath on her ear. Warmth pools low in her stomach, threatening to bloom into full blown desire.

“Not what you expected?” he asks, reaching around from behind her to hand over her glass of wine.

She doesn’t answer, because she’s not sure how to tell him that what she expects is a heartbreaking; good time guy who’s either on his horse or picking up chicks.Cowboys chase adrenaline and attention. And they always leave when the chase leads elsewhere.Those were the words her mom had told her repeatedly growing up.

The man here with her is steady and patient though. To collect and read this many books, he must choose quiet moments over adrenaline and attention frequently. She turns towards him, a question on her lips about why he agreed to their arrangement. She doesn’t get it out though because the power flickers off as more thunder and lightning command the sky. She stiffens, watching the wind blowing the sideways rain against the window.

“Maddie.” His voice is velvet, as if he’s trying to caress her with his words. “How can I distract you?”

She remembers earlier when he promised that he was at her disposal. There are definitely a few distractions coming to mind for her, but they all break theno kissing or morerule. Then again, she is alone with him at his home, which breaks thedates happen in publicrule. Is this a date? Or did they just get thrown together today by chance? Maddie peers back up at the books, hoping for a safer distraction than what her body craves from him.

“Are you reading anything now?”

He nods, squeezing her hand reassuringly before disappearing into his room. She remembers the stack of books by his bed and when he returns, he’s holding the one that was atop the stack. “Is it too dark to read?” she asks.

“The fire will be light enough. Come over here with me?” he asks, moving towards the end of the sofa. She slides down to the space nearest the fireplace and he pulls her in against him. She snuggles under his arm and rests her head on his chest. Holding the book in front of them with one hand, his other hand secure around her, he begins reading aloud. It doesn’t take long for the lulling sound of his voice weaving a tale to drown out the storm. Her breathing steadies and she leans into him tighter. And then at some point, she falls fast asleep in his arms despite the weather raging outside.

* * *

“Seriously? Nothing happened?”

She rolls her eyes, her phone cradled on her shoulder. “I told you, Jules. Nothing happened.”

“How is that possible?”

“I was scared, I told him why, and he comforted me. When I woke up the next morning my clothes were clean and waiting for me. Plus a note that said he had to go take care of something on the ranch and didn’t want to wake me up. And that was it.”

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