Beautifully Broken 1: If You Stay

I roll my eyes.  “I don’t wear belts.  But okay.  It’s cinched up tight.  No shopping sprees for me.”

Madison nods, satisfied, and picks up my portfolio again.

“I like this one,” she tells me.  “I want to buy it.”

I lean over her shoulder, staring at the gray cloudy sky and full moon.  I can perfectly see the rippling sheen of the dark water shining in the black and white contrast.  It’s perfect.  I smile.

“This one is gorgeous. And it’s from the other night.  I’ll frame it up for you and you can pick it up next time you’re here.”

She grins at me.  “Or you can drop it off during your shift tomorrow night at The Hill.”

I stare at her. “What?”

“You said you wouldn’t mind pitching in.  You can do a shift tomorrow.  That would help out a bunch.  Then maybe we can go out and get a drink afterward.  It’s been far too long since we’ve blown the cobwebs off.  We need to de-stress.”

I don’t have time to argue about the short notice or to remind my sister that I seldom drink, because the little bell above my door jingles, signaling a customer.  I glare at Maddy quickly before pasting a smile on my face and turning around.

And then I freeze.

Pax Tate is strolling through my door in jeans that look like they were tailored just for him and with a shopping bag in his hand.  His eyes glimmer mischievously as he smiles in greeting, a slow grin that curves his lips and crinkles the corners of his eyes.  In the course of one day, I had forgotten exactly how devastatingly sexy he truly is.

My knees buckle.

Madison turns to stare at me in shock because what are the odds of Pax showing up here?  Particularly after I just said that I would probably never see him again.

“Hey there, little red riding hood,” Pax drawls, setting his bag on the counter in front of me.  “I owe you a sweater.”

Chapter Six

Pax

“Little Red Riding Hood?” Mila cocks an eyebrow at me, a whisper of a smile flitting across her full lips.  I nod.

“For some reason, that’s how I think of you,” I admit to her.  “You were strolling out on the beach, all alone, and came along just when I needed you.”

My eyes are glued on her face.  I know that there is someone else in the room, but to me, it’s just me and Mila.  She stares at me uncertainly.

“That would make you the Big Bad Wolf,” she points out.

I laugh.  “Now you’re catching on,” I tell her.

Her gaze remains locked with mine, her eyes clear and dark.  My gut wrenches at the sight of her clean and clear expression. There is no drug induced haze in her eyes, a marked difference from my usual companions.  It’s both refreshing and terrifying.  I’m not sure how to interact with her.  But since I woke up this morning craving her company, I knew I had to seek it out.

So here I am.

“Is this for me?” Mila motions toward the shopping bag and I nod.  She delves into it with interest and then her face lights up when she sees all of the sweaters.

“They’re all red,” she laughs.  “Every one of them.”

I feel my lip twitch. “Of course they are.  I have to keep you in character somehow, don’t I?  I didn’t know what style you liked, so I bought you a bunch of them.  I wanted you to be fully stocked the next time you come along and save me.”

She visibly startles and stares at me, her movements frozen, her fingers dangling limply at her sides.  I can’t help but notice her slender hourglass figure.  She’s proportioned absolutely right to drive a man crazy.  Full tits, tiny waist, lush hips.  My groin tightens.

Fuck.  I quickly think of dead puppies, nuns and cold pork.  It seems to do the trick and my dick calms down.  For now.

Mila is still staring at me, an intense, charged gaze.

“Do you need saving?” she asks quietly.

The air between us practically crackles with energy as we stare each other down.  Her eyes are fathomless and deep, the kind of eyes that a man could fall into and lose himself.  Permanently.  I am flustered for a moment, trying to find the words to answer her when the other person in the room clears her throat.

An escape.

Thank you, God.

I turn gratefully to find another woman there, a pretty blonde woman that I’ve seen before, but I can’t place where.  She seems to be waiting for an introduction, but Mila isn’t giving her one.

I hold my hand out.

“Hi,” I tell her.  “I’m Pax Tate.”

She shakes my hand firmly.  Perhaps a little too firmly.

“Madison Hill,” she answers. “Mila’s sister.”

Oh.  Then her stern handshake makes sense.  Big sister is looking out for little sister, trying to protect Mila from the Big Bad Wolf.  I can’t really blame her.

Madison is staring at me now with blue eyes that are nothing like her sister’s.  In fact, nothing about her resembles Mila, except for maybe the shape of her nose.  She’s tall and blonde, while Mila is petite and dark.  Mila is sexier, although for some reason, I’m guessing that she doesn’t think so.  She’s quiet now, allowing her sister to do the talking.  It is clear that she is used to her sister taking charge.

“So are you feeling better?”

Madison cocks an eyebrow, her question a not-so-subtle way of telling me that she knows that I OD’d the other night.  That she thinks I’m a f**k-up who isn’t good enough for her sister.  I can see that in her icy blue eyes.  The thing that she doesn’t understand, though, is that I don’t give a shit what she thinks.  She doesn’t know me and that is my biggest pet peeve- when people judge me without knowing what the f**k they’re talking about.

“I am, thank you,” I tell her.  I smile pleasantly.  I won’t bow to her.  She’s crazy if she thinks that.  “Your sister was a lifesaver.”

Literally.

Madison doesn’t know how to respond. I can see that she wants to say more, but there’s really no way she can without seeming completely rude.  She’s disgruntled as she turns and kisses Mila on the cheek.

“I’ve got to get back to The Hill.  I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” she looks pointedly at her sister, as if to silently warn her away from me.  Then she glances at me.