Damaged Read online

  “Hello, Noah,” she said with a grin. Instead of hesitation, there was warmth in her eyes. She just kept reaching inside of him and grabbing him by the throat. He cleared his and found his voice.

  “Hi, Maddi.”

  “Would you like to come in?” she asked cheekily, moving aside for him to do so.

  Shifting the flowers from one hand to the other, he took off his lightweight jacket, and she locked up behind him.

  “These are for you,” he said, handing her the flowers.

  “It would be strange if they weren’t,” she mused, making him laugh.

  Just like that, nerves disappeared, and he knew there was nowhere he’d rather be than in front of this beautiful, intriguing woman with haunting eyes that made him want to break down her barriers.

  “Good thing they are then. Something smells good,” he remarked, following her over to the kitchen area and taking a seat at the counter. She pulled a vase out from under the counter. The spicy aroma of herbs wafted in the air. The oven was on, but he couldn’t see what was in it. He was both touched and surprised she had cooked for him. Had she looked forward to him coming for dinner? The fan over the stove whirred and she switched it off, leaving a soft silence.

  “Do you want a drink? I still have the wine from the other night. I have milk, water, pop, or iced tea,” she offered.

  “Iced tea would be great.”

  It didn’t surprise him that the wine was still there. She hadn’t touched her glass the other night. He’d seen a flash of wariness when he had handed it to her and, consequently, barely sipped at his own.

  Maddi pulled a container of iced tea from the cupboard next to the fridge and took out two glasses. “How was your day?”

  “It was good, dear. How was yours?” he returned smartly, making her laugh.

  “I signed a contract today to sell my jewelry exclusively through a company called Seamless.”

  He couldn’t read her face. She had said it softly, without emotion, but he couldn’t help thinking this was something important. “Are we celebrating then?” he asked, his tone mirroring hers. She looked at him, those gripping eyes holding his, drowning him.

  Her eyebrows scrunched when she frowned. “I don’t know.”

  His heart cracked. What the hell had happened to her? Unable to ask that question, he went with, “Are you happy?”

  The uncertainty cleared. “It was a good decision. Financially and professionally.”

  She handed him his drink and then sipped her own. Moving to the stove, her long, graceful back to him, she stirred the contents of the pot. Lifting the lid filled the kitchen with aromas that made his mouth water.

  “Are you happy?”

  She looked back over her shoulder at him, crinkled her eyebrows again, but this time she didn’t look sad.

  “They’re a company with an excellent track record. Their online sales have doubled in the last two years, and their primary store is here in Denver.”

  He rose to stand on the same side of the counter as her. She turned, almost into him. He kept his distance but held her eyes. “Are you happy, Maddi?” he pushed. She lowered her gaze, breathed deeply, then looked back at him through long, thick lashes.

  “Yes,” she said and he could hear the caution in her voice, causing another fissure in his heart. How could she be so unsure of happiness? More than that, could he handle knowing what made her that way? He reached out tentatively, just linked his hand casually with hers.

  Touching her, even just her hand, delighted him. “Then we should call this a celebration. Of new beginnings and taking chances,” he said.

  Those tempting eyes darkened with shadows of doubt. Noah didn’t move but had to restrain himself from pulling her to him, wrapping his arms around her body.

  Her fingers flexed in his. “I’m not really one for taking chances.” She stared down at their hands with a sad, sweet smile.

  “Sometimes it’s worth it.”

  The words hung between them, much like their joined hands.

  Maddi liked the feel of her hand inside of his. It was a feeling she knew she was susceptible to enjoying.

  But she was a realist. “Often they’re not.” Was she telling Noah or herself? He looked at her so intently, so seriously. On one hand, she wanted to look away so he didn’t see too much. On the other, she wanted to let him see it all. See her. Just let one person see it all and want to keep looking anyway. Maddi had never wanted that from anyone.

  Pulling her hand from his, she shoved the dangerous thoughts from her mind. A small table, no bigger than a bistro set, sat flush against the wall, set for dinner. The pasta was nearly ready. It was just dinner. It didn’t mean anything.

  “Nat’s started working for me,” Noah told her, leaning back against the counter.

  The change of topics untied some of the worries tangling up her thoughts. “How’s that going?”

  “It’s good. She did administrative type work before … well, before.”

  Maddi took the garlic bread from the oven, set it on a breadboard to slice.

  “You said you were looking to find someone for her to talk to?”

  “I did. My friend’s mom is a psychologist. We’ve met with her once, and Nat’s been going once a week on her own. I wanted to be there for the first one. As support, you know?”

  “I think she’s very lucky to have you. It might be important for you to talk to someone as well. Separately,” Maddi suggested cautiously. People didn’t always take the suggestion that they may benefit from therapy in a positive way. Even though she no longer felt it was necessary for her own situation, she believed an outside perspective could help a person accept and let go of what was not theirs to control.

  “Me? I’m fine. I just wish I could have done more. Been there earlier or seen it coming.”

  His voice had been deceptively casual and she watched the column of his neck as he took a long swallow of iced tea.

  “You’re carrying guilt like a suitcase, Noah. Needlessly.”

  As she put the bread in a little basket she’d bought years ago she realized she liked this: preparing a meal for him and chatting. The topic was rather heavy and she hadn’t meant to give him unwanted advice, but it was surprisingly comfortable. It means nothing. Just dinner. A meal to thank him for the one he had brought. Sometimes she wished she could tell her mind to shut up.

  “Maybe. I just can’t stand the thought that someone hurt her. Still, I think that once I see her get stronger, the guilt will ease up. You’ve obviously had some experience with therapy?”

  “This is ready. Why don’t you sit down and I’ll bring it over,” she said a little too brightly. He looked at her a moment more then took the drinks to the table. Maddi used the moment to pull her thoughts together, to remind herself that the conversation was best left at the superficial and mentally chastised herself for opening up the door for him to delve deeper.

  Wasn’t that why she avoided these situations? She was both relaxed and wound up in his presence, which made her feel out of sorts. She brought plates of spaghetti and marinara sauce, garlic bread, and small bowls of salad to the table. He offered to help, but she needed the mundane chore to take her mind off the fact that she was sitting down to dinner with someone for the first time in more years than she cared to count. It was a shock, even to her, how anti-social she’d allowed herself to become.

  “Maddi, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cross the line,” he said quietly and sincerely when she sat across from him.

  “It’s all right. I’m not very good at this, Noah. Which is why I tend to avoid … any of this.”

  “I think you’re doing just fine for someone who considers herself not good at it.”

  “This can’t be a … thing. I like talking to you. More than I should. Your sister seems lovely, and you’re both very easy to be around. But I don’t make friends or have lovers or whatever it is you’re looking for,” she said. The words caught in her throat.

  She looked down at
her food then back at him. She hadn’t meant to blurt it all out. He tilted his head slightly and looked at her like he could see the little pieces of good that might still be lingering inside of her.

  “Maddi.” He sighed. There was a mixture of wonderment and uncertainty in his tone, and she didn’t know what to do with either. Affection warmed his eyes and tugged at her heart.

  “I don’t want to make you feel like I’m pushing for something you don’t want,” he began. “There’s something about you that’s pulled me in. I’m not sure if it’s your eyes or the way you’re so obviously able to stand on your own.” He gave an almost self-deprecating laugh. “I can go as slow as you need or I can walk away if you need that more. I don’t want to walk away though. I’ve been around a lot of women in my life, but I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you. It doesn’t seem to matter if we’re having dinner, talking, or just in the same room. I want to know you, Maddi. I feel like I have to, and I don’t want to walk away from how I feel when I’m with you. I get it. You don’t take chances. You live your life alone for a reason you’re not ready to share. I won’t push on that front. I won’t push at all, but I don’t want to shut this down and always wonder what would have happened if both of us were willing to just try.”

  Noah didn’t know all of that was inside of him waiting to share with her, and he probably wouldn’t have said anything if she didn’t look so damn scared of just sitting down to dinner and having a conversation. He watched her patiently as those piercing eyes watched him back. A slight frown tugged her lips down.

  “It could just be physical attraction but I think it’s more,” she said finally, gently. She picked up her iced tea, sipped, kept his gaze. “You’re the only person in the last ten years I haven’t wanted to go away. Well, I want you to go away, but I don’t seem inclined to make you. I don’t know what that means and it scares me. Would it be okay if we had dinner and didn’t try to figure it out just yet?”

  Hell yeah, he thought, but just smiled, nodded, took her hand, squeezed it briefly, and picked up his fork.

  “This looks good. Smells even better,” he said, not minding the change in conversation or the intensity level. She gave a short laugh.

  “Thank you. I worked closely with the local Safeway to prepare all the ingredients,” she responded.

  “Cooking isn’t my thing either.”

  “But you make steak.”

  “Well, yeah. I’m a guy. We’re born knowing how to make steak.”

  “I had no idea. And women? What are they born knowing how to do?”

  “Smell good,” he answered without hesitation. “Women always smell good.”

  She laughed and the knots in his stomach untangled. He kept the topics light. They talked about what they liked to watch and read. He told her about his construction company and felt renewed pride when she seemed truly impressed by his starting a company from the ground up.

  “Isn’t that essentially what you’ve done?” he asked, wiping his mouth and pushing his plate forward a bit. She shrugged casually, finished her last bite, and pushed her plate away as well.

  “I suppose. But it’s just me. I don’t think it’s the same thing. I’m not in charge of anyone but myself. You run an actual company, an organization of people who build things other people need and rely on. There’s hardly any danger to my customers if my necklaces have a flaw in how they’re put together.”

  He liked the way she talked, considering and thoughtful, like she only wanted to say it once so she made sure it sounded right.

  “I doubt that’s ever an issue,” he remarked. She blushed.

  “I tend to be a bit of a perfectionist,” she admitted.

  “Can I see some of your work?”

  Hesitating only slightly, she nodded and rose from the chair with her plate and reached to take his as well. He took it before she could and helped clear the table. They worked together to straighten up the kitchen. Noah either had it bad for her or was getting sick because even cleaning up with Maddi was gratifying.

  “My workspace was a mess when you saw it,” she reminded him, leading him back through the hallway. There were no photographs on the walls. A couple of framed prints hung in the living room. Abstracts, if he had to guess. But no frames with family and friends lining the shelves. No candid shots of Maddi in her younger days.

  “If by mess you mean completely organized even if it wasn’t unpacked, sure it was,” he said and laughed. “You want a mess? Work on a construction crew.”

  Maddi opened the door and let him go first. He brushed up against her lightly as he passed through the door and knew he hadn’t imagined the charge he felt from being that close to her. Noah wanted to turn into her, push her back against the door, and kiss her, touch his mouth to hers and explore the sexy curve of her neck. Her breath hitched and he checked the impulse, moving past her to take in the room.

  The space was like a small store. Where before there’d been boxes lining one wall, tools scattered on the work tables, and nothing on the walls, now it was like no workspace he had seen. His tools were sacred to him so he considered himself fairly organized and careful with them, but it was nothing like this.

  “You install all this shelving yourself?”

  She smiled at him and arched her brow in a way that made his stomach flip over.

  “I can handle a hammer and some nails.”

  He didn’t doubt it. Her tools were organized on shelves, her work tables, and a pegboard. Materials sat in one corner, clearly marked. Extra lighting was set up on the workstations, and a tall stool sat in the corner. A wall shelf held various sized boxes and clear drawers that were filled with tissue paper and wrap. The drawers were labeled. One of the walls held a large, unique pine shelving unit. It was thin and broken into multiple open compartments. Each compartment held something different: bracelets, earrings, necklaces, charms. He walked closer to take a better look.

  Even if he didn’t know quality craftsmanship, he would be able to see the superiority in her designs. Different metals, stones, beads, jewels, and settings. Some were delicate and graceful while others were more solid and eclectic. Every one of them was gorgeous.

  “These are incredible, Maddi,” he said reverently. “You can see the quality in each piece. Seriously, you do beautiful work.” She smiled at him or maybe beamed was a better word for the delight on her face.

  “Thank you.”

  He looked down at her wrists, her hands, glanced at her elegant neck. “You don’t wear any jewelry,” he noted. She seemed surprised by the observation.

  “No. While I’m working I can’t, and I don’t really go anywhere accept to run errands. Or run, so no, I guess I don’t,” she replied, looking down at her own unadorned hands.

  “Can you make me something?” he asked, turning back to look at the display.

  Her eyebrows shot up. “Um, like some earrings or bangles?”

  He gave her a sardonic look and chuckled. She came to stand next to him as he looked at the individual pieces. “I meant for Nat. Her birthday is coming up,” he explained, playfully bumping her shoulder with his.

  “Oh. Well, yes, of course I can. Do you trust me or do you have a design in mind?” she answered. He turned, looked at her, and waited until she realized he was serious.

  “I trust you,” he replied. The slight widening of her eyes said she understood he meant more than just the words, but what they implied as well.

  “Okay,” she answered, her voice lower, a bit breathy. “I’ll sketch a design and run it by you before I start.”

  Noah nodded. If he leaned down, just a little, their mouths would touch. It would be so easy. Instead, he tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, let his fingers linger lightly on her cheek. Sensation swamped him.

  “I should go,” he said, his own voice feeling a bit hoarse. She nodded and turned.

  At the door, she stood quietly while he put on his jacket. Noah watched her watching him. Her face gave away nothing.
r />   “Thanks for dinner.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  They stood, quiet and unmoving. The silence was charged.

  “I’ll see you soon?” he questioned. She smiled.

  “I should be able to have a sketch for you the next time you’re by to see Nat. Unless it’s tomorrow. I don’t think I can do it by then.”

  “Okay. Her birthday is in two weeks. I never asked if that was enough time.”

  “Should be. I’ve already got ideas swirling. Come by in a couple of days and I’ll show you the sketch. Once you approve it, it won’t take too long.”

  Pleasure punched him in the stomach, made him grin. “Maddi Brooks. Did you just invite me over?” he teased, stepping just a little closer. Her laugh was tinted with the nerves dancing over her features.

  “Yes. I suppose I did.”

  “Would it be pushing too hard to ask if I could bring another movie or some takeout?”

  She breathed in and out in quick succession like she was steadying herself.

  “The burgers you brought last time were really good,” she answered.

  He couldn’t hold back his smile. Adorable. She was unequivocally adorable. Without thinking about it, he leaned down and kissed her cheek. It was quick, so fast he’d straightened back up by the time she realized what he’d done.

  “Burgers it is. Good night, Maddi.”

  Whether she knew it or not, when he glanced back at where she stood in the doorframe watching him leave, she had brought her hand to her face where he’d brushed her cheek. Stepping onto the elevator, he was grateful she hadn’t asked him to walk away. At this point, he didn’t think he could.

  Chapter 8

  They were huddled under the blanket with a weakening flashlight. Maddi startled when glass broke and bad words followed, but Jason tried his best to distract her.

  “What’s black and white and read all over?” he asked, rolling on his side so they were facing each other. The flashlight flickered. He had been awake when she crept into his room, staring at the ceiling and listening to the same sounds that woke her. When he saw her, he moved over in his bed and let her crawl in. If Mom and Dad weren’t fighting he never would have let her lie down on his bed or even come into his room.