Take a Chance on Me

Chapter Thirteen



Maddie ran down the dark sidewalk, her gym shoes pounding on the pavement as the humid night air hit her face. Restless and unable to sit still after the phone conversation with Steve, she’d paced through the house, her mind tumbling with thoughts about both her past and her future. The mental gymnastics did nothing to wear her out, so she decided that the only cure was a run.

She hadn’t exercised in a week, and as soon as she hit her stride she remembered why she’d taken up the habit in the first place. It calmed her mind and soothed away all the jagged edges of her emotions. She sucked in a lungful of air, loving the smell of grass and summer.

Out of nowhere, the sound of her dad’s loud, boisterous laugh filled her mind, so crystal clear that it made her want to look over her shoulder to see if he was there. Her chest tightened at the bittersweet remembrance. To her surprise, the familiar loss and ache of grief didn’t hit her like a ton of bricks the way it normally did. Instead, a distant, long-forgotten memory pricked at the corners of her mind.

She’d been twelve, caught between being a child and becoming a teenager, filled with all the emotional upheaval of that age. She’d been upset because her mom had signed her up for dance class instead of the cool abstract sculpture class she’d wanted to take. Her mom had insisted Maddie needed to be a “more well-rounded young lady,” and wasn’t it nice that Penelope was also taking dance? Maddie’s temper had flared, and she’d stomped around the kitchen, kicking up a fuss about how her mom probably wished Penelope were her daughter because she was perfect and Maddie wasn’t even close.

Patrick Donovan had scolded Maddie for her outburst and upsetting her mother, and then he’d taken her fishing at a nearby lake. She’d hated fishing almost as much as she’d hated ballet, and she’d sat there, a sullen, resentful tween refusing to even hold the pole. Her dad just shrugged and cast his line. They drifted along in the quiet for a good forty-five minutes before he broke the silence.

“You know, I’ve never told anyone this before, but when Evan was born your mom cried because she’d wanted a girl so bad.”

The admission shook Maddie from her sulk. “Really?”

He nodded, solemnly. “Now, I’m trusting you not to run off and tell him. She was disappointed to have lost her girl, but she didn’t love him any less than a mother should.”

It made her feel like an adult to be trusted with such a big secret, and pride replaced her bad temper. “Cross my heart and hope to die,” she said, giving him the sacred vow of a twelve-year-old girl.

He placed his big strong hand on her shoulder and smiled. “I didn’t want another child, but your mom wanted a girl and I could never deny her anything, so I promised her one more shot. When you were born, she held you tight in her arms, wrapped in a tiny pink blanket, and talked about the things you’d do together. All the cute dresses and baby dolls she’d buy you.” He laughed, that full-bodied sound she loved. “By the time you were two you hated dresses and had to be wrangled into one for Sunday mass. Instead of the baby dolls, you wanted to play in the mud and catch a football with your brothers.”

Maddie frowned, resentful over her mom’s expectations. “That sounds like her.”

Patrick shook his head. “Don’t be too hard on her. It’s hard to let go of your dreams sometimes.”

“So she’s disappointed in me,” Maddie said, her tone sullen. She’d known it and didn’t want to care, but she did.

“Heavens no, girl.” Her dad squeezed her tight, kissing her temple. “She’s just searching for a way to relate to you. Still looking for a way to connect to the tiny baby she held in her arms.”

Maddie’s eyes filled with tears as her throat closed up. She wanted that too.

“But here’s the important thing to remember, Maddie. She’s proud of you, even in her frustration, and I am too. And do you know why?”

Maddie shook her head, unable to speak.

“Because it takes courage to walk your own path. Never lose that.”

Ripped from the memory, Maddie came to a crashing halt on the sidewalk. Her breath coming in hard pants and her eyes clouded with tears, she felt the revelation washed over her, breaking apart inside her and forcing a whole new perspective.


She’d lost her path. She’d lost her courage. And her father, regardless of what had happened, would have hated it. The man who had sat there in that boat with his disgruntled daughter would never have wanted her to be suffocated by her family, live a life she hated, or marry a man she cared about but didn’t love.

The understanding set her free in a way that years of therapy never had.

Energy buzzed through her, snapping along neurons and shaking her out of her self-imposed apathy. The heaviness always in her chest lifted, and she wiped the tears from her eyes. Filled with renewed vigor, her mind clear and focused, she turned and started running back to Mitch’s house. She wasn’t going to wait another minute. She was going to start her life, walking her own path with courage and hope, just like her dad would have wanted.

It was only a matter of figuring out who she wanted to become.





Despite the late hour, long run, and hot shower, Maddie was alert and refreshed as she waited for Mitch. She sat curled on the couch watching her second movie of the evening, Bringing Up Baby.

Cary Grant once again got up from the dining room table to follow the dog, George, out into the yard where he was searching for his precious bone while Katherine Hepburn chased after him. Katherine didn’t care one bit if she made a fool of herself over Cary. She wanted him and she went for it, no matter how clumsy and foolish she looked.

Maddie should take notes, minus all the slapstick falling, of course.

For the first time in thirteen years she was going to go for what she wanted, and she wanted Mitch Riley. He was just going to have to put his morals and sense of decency aside. Maybe it was wrong of her—no, scratch that. She was sure it was wrong, lust being a mortal sin and all, but it didn’t matter.

She had five days and didn’t intend to waste them on her knees—at least, not praying.

She’d put on tiny cotton shorts and a skimpy tank top: seductive, but not obvious, considering it was eighty-five at one in the morning. She’d worn her hair loose, a wild tangle of waves down her back. Full makeup lacked subtlety, so she settled for light and natural: mascara, some pale pink creamy blush, and the raspberry Lip Smackers of her youth.

She heard tires on gravel as a car came up the driveway. Excitement sparked as her heart started to pound.

She was as ready as she’d ever be.

A minute later, the kitchen door opened and Maddie sat up, leaning against the arm of the couch as she waited. Dressed for bed, she hadn’t bothered with either a bra or panties, and now felt naked with her nipples poking the thin pink cotton of the tank. The seam of her shorts pressed along her most intimate spots, making her skin tight and hyper-aware.

Jittery with nerves, she gave one fleeting thought to racing upstairs and locking herself in the room when she heard his heavy footsteps in the hallway.

She refused to give into the fear. Not anymore.

When he reached the living room, he paused, shoving his hands into his jean pockets. “You’re still up.”

The soft light from the foyer silhouetted his broad shoulders and tall, lean frame. His gray T-shirt and jeans fit him as if he were an advertisement for female fantasy.

Dangerous and lethal. Completely delicious.

“I couldn’t sleep,” she said. After only a night next to him, she’d already grown used to his warmth on her back. “How was your night?”

In the dim, dull light, she couldn’t read his expression. She had no idea what he looked at, but her skin tingled. She licked her lips, tasting the hint of raspberry on her tongue.

“Fine.” The word sounded strained, and he cleared his throat. “How about yours? I felt bad leaving you.”

She ran her hand through her hair. “Don’t, I was fine. Gracie came over and kept me company, and after, I went for a run.”

“A run?”

“Yes,” she said, smiling. “It was just what I needed.”

He shifted against the doorframe, his hands digging deeper into his pockets. “You shouldn’t be running at night by yourself.”

Maddie blew out a hard breath of exasperation. No! Not now. She didn’t want him all protective. “Does Revival have a high crime rate?”

He crossed one ankle over his foot and propped his shoulder against the wood molding. “No, but—”

“Then there’s nothing to worry about,” she said, cutting him off. “I was fine. I’ll be sore tomorrow, but it was worth it.”

Several beats of silence followed by a heavy sigh. “Did you talk to your family?”

Her stomach dipped. She didn’t want to talk about them. Technically, she hadn’t called them. “No, I talked to my friend Penelope. She’ll let them know I’m alive. Maybe tomorrow.”

He stiffened, and Maddie wished he was in the light so she could read him better. With a wave at the couch, she said, “Aren’t you going to come sit down?”

He hesitated, standing in the doorway but not moving. This wasn’t going right at all. He seemed reluctant, as though he didn’t want to be around her. Teeth clenched, she desperately searched for a plan. She may not have experience with seduction, but she had plenty of experience with testosterone-laden men. She did the only thing guaranteed to work: she challenged him. “Are you afraid I’ll bite?”

Sure enough, he sprang off the wall like he’d been catapulted off it. Gaze falling on the chair, he moved toward it, but she slid farther up the back of the couch and crossed her legs, making it clear she’d made room for him.

A muscled ticked in his jaw, but he sat, eyes glued to the plasma screen. “What are you watching?”

“Bringing Up Baby.”

“I’ve never seen it.”

“It’s a screwball comedy my dad used to watch.”

Stiff as a board, he nodded and shifted closer into the corner of the couch.

She blew out an exasperated breath. Well, now wasn’t this one more example of God’s twisted sense of humor? Stupidly, she’d believed as long as she showed plenty of skin, he’d pounce, but no, he was farther away than ever.

Damn knight-in-shining-armor complex—she didn’t care what he said or what he’d done in the past, he had one. As far as she was concerned, he hadn’t really delivered on all his bragging and now the time had come to pay up.

“What’s wrong with you?” she snapped, forgetting to sound the least bit seductive.

“Nothing,” he said in a flat monotone. He stretched his arms over his head, arching back so that the hem of his T-shirt revealed a tantalizing hint of abs, before the strip of skin disappeared from view when he put his arms back down. “Sorry I’m not very good company, I’m exhausted.” With a yawn that Maddie was ninety percent sure was fake, he got up. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

Red dimmed her vision. He was blowing her off, making it clear he wanted to sleep alone. Before she could process the drastic change in his previous delicious behavior, he did the most despicable thing ever.

He patted her on the head! And left!

Her temper flared hot and bright.

He was not going to get away with this.





Mitch sat on the edge of his bed, practically shaking with lust. Elbows on his knees, his head rested in his palms as he fought to control the voracious desire to go to Maddie and exhaust himself in her body.

Keeping his distance was the safest course of action. He’d been talking himself into this argument all day, and Charlie’s visit had sealed the deal. He couldn’t afford to be rash. He had to get back in control before he made any moves on her. But f*ck, he’d underestimated her ability to look like a walking wet dream in shorts and a tank top.


Eyes closed, he willed a control over his body that he didn’t even come close to feeling. Christ, had he ever wanted anyone like this? With this gnawing hunger? Even with Sara, it hadn’t been like this. She’d been more like a sneak attack, not this onslaught.

He shook his head.

Despite her life as a teenage hellion, deep down, Maddie was a good girl. And the truth was—

The door flew open, practically flying off the hinges.

Mitch jerked up to find Maddie standing in the doorway, rage shooting off of her in every direction. “What. In. The. Hell. Was. That?!” She hurled the words at him like bombs.

He winced, struggling to keep his own violent emotions at bay. Smoothing his expression over into a banal mask, he said calmly, “I’m tired.”

She planted her hands on her hips, which were encased in tiny white cotton shorts he wanted to shred off her. Despite her small stature, she looked like an Amazon warrior princess standing there: legs planted, red hair flaming right along with her temper. “So let me get this straight. You have a headache?”

“I’m tired, Maddie. It’s been a long couple of days, and even longer nights. Nothing more, nothing less.” Couldn’t she see how close to the edge he was? He didn’t trust himself with her right now.

Without a trace of fear, she stalked into the room, coming to stand toe to toe with him. Bare feet should have made her look cute and harmless, but there was nothing harmless about her.

Wanting nothing more than to stare down at the floor and find comfort in those pink-tipped toes, he forced himself to meet her gaze, lacing his fingers tightly.

“Don’t you lie to me.” She jabbed a finger at his chest. “I swear to God, you’d better not be protecting me.”

Calm, he needed to remain calm and get her out of here so he could think for one f*cking second. He took a steady breath. “I’m not in the mood to talk, Maddie, and that’s the God’s honest truth.”

Her eyes darkened to moss. “That’s it, isn’t it? Don’t treat me like I’m a stupid fragile flower incapable of making hard decisions. I hate that!”

His own anger bubbled to the surface. Couldn’t she understand? He had no patience right now. No capacity for gentle coaxing. “Is that what you think I’m doing?”

“Yes!” she yelled. “I ran away to get away from all that, but now you’re doing the same thing as everyone else, and I won’t stand for it. Not anymore.”

He dragged his hands through his hair, every foul word he could think of pouring through his mind as he struggled for a calmness that was more and more out his grasp. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, Maddie.”

“Ha!” She stomped a foot. “You don’t think I can take it, do you? You think I’m too much of a nice girl for whatever wild kinkiness you dreamed up. Well, I’ve got news for you: I got farther with Jimmy Thompson after sophomore homecoming. I’m pretty sure I can take whatever you dish out.”

Something cold snapped deep inside him. He shot off the bed and gripped her arms far too tightly. She winced, but her expression remained defiant. “You need to run, little girl.”

If she’d had any common sense, she’d back down, but instead she scoffed. “I think you’re all talk and no follow-through.”

He brought her close, so they were nose-to-nose. “I’m going to give you to the count of five to get the hell out of here.” His voice dropped with menace that most people would have the wisdom to retreat from, but her strawberry-stained lips curved into a smile.

“One, two, three, four, five.” The words tumbled out of her mouth as though she couldn’t say them fast enough. Ripe satisfaction flashed in her eyes.

Shocked, he blinked. Everything froze for a fraction of a second as all reason fled and his body took over.

His mouth slammed over hers with a hard, brutal demand that had her squirming in his arms. Heedless of her struggle, he hauled her closer, his tongue invading her mouth. He didn’t ask permission. Didn’t tempt or coax. He took. Demanded. Gave her exactly what she’d been baiting him for and then some. She slithered against him. The heat they generated warmed places inside him that he hadn’t even known were numb with cold.

He released his hold on her arms, sliding one hand around her waist while the other moved to fist her hair, holding her still for his onslaught.

Small hands scratched at his forearms. With no idea if she wanted to push him away or pull him closer, he pressed against her, invading her space, wanting to suck up all that heat. A low moan vibrated against his mouth, and then her fingers curled into his flesh, and she yanked him even closer.

A mad, hot rush of desire flooded his system. She wouldn’t back down. No matter how aggressive, no matter how much he demanded, she’d just keep coming.

Her mouth stroked his. Tongue licking. Dueling. Competing until he was dizzy.

They fought to get closer, their breath hard and fast.

With a firm grip on her hair, he twisted it around his palm until it had to prick with pain.

The retreat didn’t come. All she gave him was an urgent groan before molding to him like a second skin.

He’d planned out his seduction, and this wasn’t it. There was no slow tease. No hot, long kisses. No slow torture until she begged for more. This would only lead one place: raw, uncontained f*cking.

He released her hair and gripped the edge of her tank top, breaking the kiss long enough to divest her of the article of clothing. Her bare breasts, soft and yielding, contrasted with the hard plains of his chest. She rubbed against him like a cat, not scared, not timid, or shy.

She was not at all what he’d been prepared for.

Hard nipples scraped along his skin. A hard jolt of electricity shocked his system. He grunted, pulling back to nip at her bottom lip with enough force for her to pull away, but instead she bit back.

On a low growl, he turned them around and tumbled them to the bed. The second she landed on the mattress, he had his hands at her shorts. Her hips lifted so he could slide them down her perfect legs.

He froze, staring at her. Half-naked, she lay sprawled and open. Mouth swollen from his kiss; hair a slash of deep red across his white pillow. Beautiful. His.

He blinked. Logic and reason crashed down on him: what was he doing?

Lashes fluttered against her flushed cheeks as her eyes opened and looked at him. Her gaze searched, her expression shifted, seeing something he felt sure he wanted to keep hidden. Out of nowhere, panic washed through him, chilling his blood as a cold sweat broke out on his brow.

He looked past her, away from her, as some unnamed emotion made his stomach knot and twist.

Shit. He reared away, moving to the edge of the bed. Dropping his head into his palms, he fought to find his normal composure. But it was a lost cause. Not when the truth was so clear, he’d need to be blind, deaf, and dumb not to see it.

Soft fingers touched his back as she moved behind him. He clenched his jaw, fighting equally powerful urges to lash out and possess. Instead, he didn’t speak, didn’t dare move. He was immobile with an unfamiliar torrent of emotions.

He was an idiot.

All this time, he’d been telling himself he was protecting Maddie, taking it easy on her, taking it slow so she wouldn’t run.

It was all bullshit.

He wasn’t protecting her. He was protecting himself. He was waiting for the control that was always so damn easy for him to kick in, waiting for the distance he always experienced to make Maddie safe for him. But that was never going to happen, because she wasn’t safe, and never would be.


“Mitch.” Her soft voice was a whisper against his skin. “Please tell me what’s wrong.”

What was he supposed to say? That he was too emotional to have sex with her? That he’d thought it’d be fun to show her a good time, but now it wasn’t enough? That after three measly days he didn’t know if he could handle being her five-day fantasy f*ck before she went back to Chicago to start her real life?

He laughed, a harsh sound so bitter that he cringed.

No one could know how fast or hard he’d fallen. No one. Least of all Maddie, who didn’t need one more reason to nail herself to the cross.

He needed to get the hell away so he could think without her distracting presence. He took a deep breath before he picked up her hand and pressed it to his lips. “I’m sorry, Maddie.”

“Please,” she said, her tone threaded with worry. “Talk to me.”

He wanted to explain that it wasn’t her, it was him, but he couldn’t utter the cliché-ridden words. He stood up and walked to the bedroom door. “I’ll be back and I promise we’ll talk.”

He didn’t know what he’d say, but he’d figure that out later. Not waiting for an answer, he walked out of the room and down the stairs, and slammed out of the house like the devil chased him.