If You Leave (Beautifully Broken 2)

I leave without looking back, climbing into my Camaro.

It’s not a practical car, but I always wanted one, so when I discharged from the Rangers I bought one brand-new… sort of as a consolation prize for giving up my dream job. It’s a badass car, but it’s not nearly good enough to make up for the life I lost.

One single night changed my life forever.

One fucking night.

And the worst part is that even though it was my fault, if we’d been better protected, Mad Dog would still be alive and Brand’s leg wouldn’t have been destroyed.

None of that can be changed for us now. But if we can change it for future soldiers, we’ll try like hell to make it happen. All we have to do now is finish designing the product, get another investor so that we can have prototypes made and then successfully pitch it to the Pentagon.

Easy.

I light up a cigarette as I blow down the quiet highway. Everything here in Angel Bay is quiet and uneventful; barely anything happens. This really might be what I need to get my shit straight.

And it doesn’t hurt anything that this is where Madison is.

I grin at the sheer fucking coincidence of it all.

And then I grin again at the note that I left for her.

We need to finish what we started.

Chapter Seven

Madison

I grit my teeth as I think about those words, color flooding my cheeks as I let Gabriel get to me once again.

We need to finish what we started.

Who the hell does he think he is? Oh my God. He’s so fucking arrogant. He thinks he can completely ignore the fact that he turned into a crazy person the other night, offer me no explanation whatsoever, stroll into my restaurant and just find me waiting to fuck him?

He’s crazier than I thought he was.

I look into the mirror as I put in my earrings, the diamond studs that I wear when I want to dress up. They were the last gift that my parents gave me before they died, a college graduation present.

I study myself now. My hair is pulled into a loose chignon at the nape of my neck, I’m wearing lipstick, a little black dress, and kick-ass black strappy heels. I’m the perfect picture of a date.

And hell no. I’m not going out with Gabriel. He thinks he can come in and shove someone around in my restaurant and I’ll just fall at his feet in gratitude? He’s crazy. The Hill already had one bully, and he’s been dead for four years. We don’t need another one.

The memory of Gabriel’s face as he slammed Jared against the door causes my stomach to clench. He almost seemed to like it. He liked having Jared at his mercy. I squeeze my eyes closed, then open them again, refocusing.

No more thinking about Gabriel.

Ethan is making me dinner tonight and damn it, I’m going to like it. Or at least I’m going to pretend like hell that I do. I sigh and pick up my black clutch, turning the lights off and heading out to my car.

Screw it.

Other people’s perceptions don’t usually bother me at all, but for some reason I really hate the idea that everyone thinks I don’t have a social life. I don’t have a social life because I haven’t met anyone who makes me want one.

It only takes ten minutes to drive across our little town and Ethan meets me as I walk up to his door. He’s wearing a light-blue V-neck sweater that complements his eyes and slim black pants that complement his ass. I should be attracted to him.

So why aren’t I?

“I’d thought you’d be right on the lake,” I tell him as he greets me. “I’m surprised you’d live in one of these new condos.”

He smiles and takes my sweater.

“I know. But my schedule’s too crazy to take care of a cottage. I’m pretty much a slave to the hospital.“

I stare at him, marveling once again that people put their health (and their very fragile babies) into his large and clumsy hands. I can’t help but tell him that very thing.

He laughs good-naturedly. “Oh, Maddy. You’ve got to get to know me again. I think you’re gonna be pleasantly surprised.”

As we walk into his condo, I have to admit that I am pleasantly surprised by it. Everything is so sleek and modern; and everything is neat and clean. It’s not what I was expecting, based on the guy Ethan used to be. As hard as it is for me to imagine it, maybe he really has grown up.

“This is gorgeous,” I tell him as I turn around, taking it all in. “A very grown-up condo.”

He chuckles. “It suits the grown-up man who lives in it.”

I stare at him. “Touché. All right. I admit it. I’m going to have to try and see you in a different light, not like the boy who ate a grasshopper.”

He rolls his eyes. “Seriously. Am I never going to live that down? I was ten years old! A lot changes in fifteen years, Madison.”

We laugh and he sits me down on a sleek sofa while he pours me a glass of wine. “I hope you like red,” he says as he hands it to me. “We’re having veal so I paired it with a nice merlot.”

“That’s perfect,” I tell him as our fingers touch. “And very grown-up. I love merlot.”

He grins, then excuses himself to go check on the food. The delicious smells coming from the kitchen make my mouth water.

“It’s such a surprise to find out that you can cook too,” I call across the room. The condo is an open design, so I can see everything he’s doing. He chuckles as he closes up the oven and then comes around the kitchen bar top with the bottle of wine.

“I’m good with my hands,” he tells me suggestively as he sits next to me. “Trust me.” I have to smile.

“OK. You really have changed. You weren’t this flirty in high school.”

Ethan stares at me, surprised. “I was too! Just not with you. You scared the shit out of me. I wanted to ask you out for four years straight, but I was afraid you’d crush me if I ever did. You were out of my league.”

I’m the surprised one now. “Out of your league? You know that everyone called you Ken, right? As in Ken doll… because you were so perfect?”

He’s interested now, staring at me intently. “Tell me more about this,” he grins.

I laugh and we chat and suddenly everything feels like old times again, just like when he used to come to my house with groups of our friends and hang out for bonfires on the beach.

The problem is, it feels just like old times. I don’t feel any chemistry with him now, just like I didn’t back then.

“So, what do you do for fun, Ethan?” I ask politely, sipping at my wine. He mimics the motion, sipping his.

“I don’t really have time for much,” he admits. “My time is pretty much all taken up by the hospital. If I’m home, then I’m sleeping or watching TV for a minute. I have very little free time.”

“Yet you’re spending an evening with me,” I point out. Ethan grins.

“See? You should feel flattered.”

I practically sigh aloud as I ignore the way he keeps edging closer to me. It’s apparent that he’s not having the lack-of-chemistry problem that I’m having.

To make matters worse, he’s probably used to women at the clinic throwing themselves at him for the simple reason that he’s a good-looking doctor. He’s not used to rejection because those nurses and nurse’s aides and patients… they don’t care that he’s boring as hell and just lives to work. All they see is the “MD” on his name tag.

They don’t care that he lacks a spark. They don’t care that he’d never slide his hand between their legs in a taxi. They don’t care that he would never fuck their mouths with his tongue while the cab driver sneaks glances in the rearview mirror. My cheeks explode into flame.

Fuck. Why am I thinking about Gabriel again?

And worse, why do thoughts of him turn me on so freaking much?

I’m almost relieved when dinner is finally ready, when I can step away from Ethan, when I can stop pretending to be interested in what he’s saying. When I can stop pretending that I’m not thinking about someone else.

Instead I can distract myself by eating. I’ve never been so happy to see a plate of steaming veal Marsala in my life.

“This is really good,” I tell him as I take another bite. “I’m impressed.”

He grins. “Good. That was my goal. I really can’t make anything else.”

I burst out laughing. “Really?”

He shakes his head. “No. I can. I just wanted you to laugh. You’re too serious, Mad. You might look like her, but you’re not the girl I remember from school.”

I feel my cheeks flush with color as I reach for my wineglass. How many times have I heard that very thing since my parents died? What the hell do people expect? Mila and I were orphaned, for God’s sake. We had to grow up in a hurry and that meant getting serious. I had to watch out for my sister, take over the restaurant, assume the business loan… none of those things were easy.

I don’t say any of that, though, because none of it is Ethan’s fault… or his business.

“Well, things changed after my parents died,” I simply say.

He nods thoughtfully. “I figured that was it. My mom said that you pretty much shouldered everything yourself. You let Mila do her own thing while you came home and took over the restaurant. That was nice of you.”

I shake my head. “It wasn’t that big of a deal,” I protest. “I majored in business so that when I got too old to model, I’d have a fallback plan. So it made sense that I should take over the Hill. Neither of us wanted to sell it and Mila would have taken it over if I’d asked her to.”

“But you didn’t ask her,” Ethan pointed out. “You came home to run it.”

“Yes,” I answer. “I did. Mila never wanted anything to do with business. She’s always been artsy. That was always her dream. And her dreams shouldn’t die just because our parents did.”

Ethan stares at me and then pours me another glass of wine. “I was at school when I heard about your parents, Maddy. I didn’t really know what to do. But I am really sorry about what happened to them. And about what’s happened to you because of it. I understand that you don’t want Mila to give up her dreams… and I respect that. But what about your own? Running the Hill wasn’t your dream. It was theirs.”

“No, it wasn’t,” I admit grudgingly. “What’s the deal, Ethan? Are you trying to make me think I should be unsatisfied?” I smile, to try to lighten the tone, but I still ask the question. Because seriously—what the hell?

Ethan immediately shakes his head.

“Of course not. You just don’t seem as happy as you used to be. And I’m just trying to figure out why. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“Well, things change and I’m not the girl you remember,” I point out. “And you didn’t offend me.”

But he kind of did.

I sip at the rest of my wine and we chat for a bit more over dessert, about old times. About high school and college, and old friends that we have in common. And then out of the blue, Ethan looks at me seriously.