Heartbreaker: A Filthy Dirty Love Novel

When she returned to the table, placing Grey’s bowl in front of him, Maddox obliged her. “She’s a cop, too, and sweet like you. I’m sure you’d adore her.”

Grey picked up his spoon. “That sounds like you plan to bring her over to meet Mom.”

“Oh, yes, what a wonderful idea,” Anne exclaimed, taking a seat next to Grey after fetching herself a bowl of stew.

Maddox heaved a sigh and shoved some beef and potatoes into his mouth to avoid a conversation he didn’t want to have. It wasn’t like he was some fucked-up guy that didn’t understand why men liked commitment. Of course, he got it. That lifestyle simply wasn’t for him. His father had shown him what love and commitment could do to someone. He remembered the sadness his father had carried for many years after his mother left. Maddox didn’t want that type of headache in his life.

To change the subject, Maddox asked Anne, “Have you been enjoying the Bridge Club still?” She’d only recently become a member after she’d decided one of the women at her knitting group hated her.

“Very much so,” Anne said, blowing on the stew on her spoon. “The ladies were so very welcoming, and we’re all going to see a musical this weekend.”

“That’s great to hear.” Maddox smiled, happy for her. Grey’s father had died ten years ago from a heart attack. The man had smoked a pack of cigarettes a day and didn’t watch what he ate. It wasn’t a big surprise to anyone when he died, even if he did pass away in his fifties.

“So, more about this woman…” Anne pressed.

Maddox frowned down at his bowl. Weren’t they done with this? “I’m afraid there’s nothing more to tell.”

“Are you seeing her often?” Anne asked.

“No.”

“He’s lying to you, Mom,” Grey stated with a full mouth. “He’s seen a lot of her recently.”

Maddox lowered his spoon into his bowl and glared at the shit-stirrer. Payback would be a bitch.

Anne didn’t pay any attention to Maddox’s glare and said in her sweetest voice, “I’m sure she’s already madly in love with you.”

“Actually”—he softened his expression when he addressed Anne—“she isn’t.” That’s what he liked about Joss, even if he still felt a smidgen of concern when it came to that subject. She seemed too good, too sweet, too full of heart to be a woman not out to find love. He trusted that she knew exactly what she was doing, and he only hoped that it didn’t come back to bite him in the ass later.

“You must be wrong,” Anne said, fixing the flower brooch on her purple sweater. “How could she not fall head over heels for you? Maybe she needs to hear you say you love her first. You know us ladies like a confident man.”

“Mother,” Grey muttered, scraping up the remainder of stew in his bowl.

Anne gave Grey another look and then said to Maddox, “All I’m saying is, maybe it’s about time you make this woman a little something more than a fleeting romance.”

“Please,” said Grey, rising and pushing his chair under the table before picking up his bowl. “Maddox only believes in fleeting romances.”

“Don’t listen to him.” Anne rose and came to Maddox’s side. She placed a hand on his shoulder, giving him a warm smile. “Do not become a man who ends up alone.” She pinched his cheek, giving him her cutest grin. “You’re too charming and handsome for that.”

He didn’t respond, not having a suitable response. While Anne moved back to the stove and turned it off, he stared at her back. He was that guy. He liked being alone. He liked life uncomplicated. That wasn’t something he could change about himself.

“Believe me, Mom,” Grey added, scooping some more stew out of the pot. “He’s going to be that old guy whose most beloved thing is his recliner.”

Maddox snorted. “You know that I’m already in love with my recliner.”

Grey glanced over his shoulder and grinned. “You’re right, I do know that.”

“I wouldn’t speak too soon, Greyson,” Anne admonished, pinching his cheek now. “At the rate you’re going, you’ll be sitting in the chair next to him.”

Maddox barked a laugh.

Anne always did get the last word in, and it was usually the wisest.

Chapter 8

The following days were a bit of blur, with Joss taking on two night shifts. By late afternoon on Wednesday—and after three cups of coffee—she began to feel normal again. She drove through Seattle’s busy downtown, tapping her fingers against her steering wheel to the beat of the soft rock playing through her radio.