Take a Chance on Me

Chapter Twenty-Three



A week later, sitting at the kitchen table, sandwiched between his mom and Maddie, Mitch gritted his teeth and tried not to think about smashing his fist into a wall to let off some steam.

They couldn’t help it if they were driving him crazy. The two of them had been talking nonstop since they’d sat down to dinner, carrying on about gardening, shopping, and other such nonsense. Today the subject appeared to be the restoration of his house.

He hadn’t been consulted on their decisions.

It was uncanny the way the two women had taken to each other.

It grated on his last nerve.

His mom laughed at something Maddie said, a warm, rich sound. Mitch wanted to snarl, but instead he took a bite of the grilled Cajun chicken Maddie had made. He chewed very slowly.

Charlotte put her glass of iced tea on the table. “Madeline, I was thinking we could go over to Shreveport tomorrow. There’s a lovely antique mall off the highway.”

“Her name is Maddie.” He hated when his mom called her that. It had become a childish point of contention.

Maddie shot him a scowl and waved a dismissive hand in his direction. “Ignore him.”

Nothing new there.

Maddie went on, “That sounds like fun. I love antiques and this house is full of them. I found this great, old-fashioned telephone table down in the basement covered in ten layers of paint. I thought about trying my hand at restoring it.”

“Oh my.” His mother placed her hands on her cheeks. “Is it pink?”

Maddie bounced a little in her chair. “Yes!”

“I painted it when I was twelve. It used to be in my bedroom.”

Pink? Mitch pinched the bridge of his nose. He needed to get the hell out of here. Maybe Charlie or Sam could play pickup. A game of vicious, no-holds-barred basketball would help to alleviate his agitation.

“Do you mind?” Maddie asked. “Since it’s technically yours.”

“It’s technically mine,” Mitch said dryly. He’d increasingly started to resemble a petulant six-year-old, but no matter how much he tried he couldn’t seem to stop.

“What is your problem?” Maddie snapped, then shot Charlotte an apologetic glance. “I’m sorry.”

“No need, dear.” Charlotte raised a brow, her face cool and polite, with none of the warmth she reserved for Maddie. “He is being quite a bear.”

“Don’t apologize for me,” he said in a growl.

The phone rang, and he got up, happy for an escape. The chair scraped over the linoleum floor harder than he’d intended.

He snatched the receiver.

“Yeah?” he barked.

“Geez, someone got up on the wrong side of the bed,” Gracie said.

Great, just what he needed. The only person who possibly loved Maddie more than his mother was Gracie. “What can I do for you?”

“Is Maddie there?” Over the line, the sound of dishes clattering was like nails on a chalkboard to Mitch’s ear.

“Yeah.” He made no move to hand the phone over to her. Now she was getting calls?

“Can I talk to her?” Gracie asked, sounding like a teenage girl talking to her father.

“One second.” The words were spoken through gritted teeth he turned to Maddie. “It’s for you. Gracie.”

Maddie jumped up and grabbed the phone.

He glowered at her.

She scowled back. “What is wrong with you?”

“Not a thing, Princess.”

For the past week they’d talked about their days, bickered, and had fan-f*cking-tastic sex, but they’d avoided anything real. She was there, right in front of him, but he’d already lost the thing he’d loved best about her. He wanted it back, but couldn’t figure out how to bridge the gap.

With a glare, she pulled the corded receiver into the dining room, leaving him alone with his mother.

An uncomfortable tension filled the room.

They hadn’t seen each other in three years, and they still had nothing to say.

Charlotte ran a long, tapered finger over her iced tea ring. Finally, she lifted her chin. “I really like Maddie.”

“I can see that,” he said, for lack of anything better.

“She’s wonderful.” Charlotte looked up at him. “I wouldn’t have made it through this ordeal without her.”

“She’s got that way about her.” Mitch propped a hip on the counter.

She cleared her throat. “You’re different with her.”

“I’m different. Period.” He was trying to make it clear that she didn’t know jack shit about him.

She nodded, and a sadness that had not been present a couple of minutes ago clouded her eyes, the same color as his own. “You know, I wanted to call.”

“And what stopped you?”

“I didn’t think you wanted to talk to me.” The fine lines deepened at the corners of her eyes.

“Yeah, that’s a good reason,” he scoffed.

“You don’t exactly make it easy.”

He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter much now, does it?”

She opened her mouth to speak, only to snap it shut when Maddie came into the room. With her hand covering the mouthpiece, she held the phone out to Mitch. “You have a phone call.”

“Who is it?” Mitch wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone.

Maddie swallowed, her gaze darting first to him and then to his mother.

Dread had his stomach dropping. What now?

“He won’t say, but I’m pretty sure it’s your father.”





Tequila hummed through Maddie’s veins as the beat of a country song blared too loudly. The patrons of Big Red’s Bar & Tavern did a complicated two-step in the middle of the converted barn, and Maddie could almost convince herself she was having a great time.


Almost.

Those Rileys were pieces of work. Not fans of the emotional outburst.

Mitch had talked to his father for two minutes, handed the phone to his mother, and stalked off without a word. Concerned, Maddie had gone after him, but he’d claimed there was nothing to discuss and shut the office door in her face. Pissed as hell and determined to find out what was going on, she’d sought out Charlotte, only to find that she’d locked herself in the bedroom.

That had left Maddie to wander a house filled with closed doors, which was how she had ended up at Big Red’s with Gracie, downing margaritas as if she were aiming for first place in a drinking contest.

Gracie whacked a guy on the back. He was wearing a wifebeater and a trucker’s hat. “Sure, Billy, we’d love another round.” She smiled at him as though he were Brad Pitt in Fight Club and shoved him toward the bar.

Maddie yelled over the noise, “Did it ever occur to you to say no?”

“Why on earth would I do that?” She looked Maddie up and down as though she might have a screw loose. “See, that’s your problem.”

“I don’t have a problem.” Maddie waved her hand in the air as the buzz in her head pounded in time to the beat of a country rock song. “But how much can we drink?”

Gracie rolled her eyes. “We’ll dance it off later.”

Maddie narrowed her eyes as Gracie removed another round of cocktails from some other guy’s big, beefy hands.

Later, she hoped to be passed out next to Mitch after he’d exhausted her into sexual oblivion. No matter how distant they were in the light of day, at night they went after each other like starvation victims being given their first meal.

At the thought of Mitch, it occurred to her that she hadn’t told him where she’d gone.

She’d just left. That was kind of rude. It was common decency to let him know where she was. As the next fishbowl margarita lined up in front of her, she shouted, “I need to call Mitch.”

“Don’t worry about him. Have fun.” Gracie pushed her half-empty glass toward her.

“Are you trying to get me drunk?”

“I’m trying to give you a good time.”

She wanted to have fun, too, but now that she’d gotten it into her fuzzy head that she wanted to talk to Mitch she couldn’t get it out. “Can I borrow your cell?”

Gracie slid an arm around her shoulder. “Nope.”

She fidgeted in her stool, playing with a damp drink napkin. “I want to call Mitch.”

“If he wants to know where you are, he’ll find you.”

“But we’re in the town over.”

“Would you relax and have a good time?”

“I will, but first I want to tell him where I went so he won’t worry.” Swaying in her seat, she took another sip of margarita. It would be nice if he realized she was gone.

Again, Gracie rolled her eyes. “Just shut up and have fun.”

Maddie stuck out her tongue, and a giggle erupted from out of nowhere.

Billy sidled back up to their table, drinks in hand. He frowned when he noticed the full drinks that had made an appearance during his short absence. Gracie patted him on the arm and gave him a megawatt smile. “Thanks, Billy. A girl can never have too many free drinks.”

Maddie’s head was feeling like a cotton cloud, and she wondered if there was a potted plant she could start dumping the cocktails in. She’d be sliding under the table soon if they kept going at this rate.

“How do you like Revival?” Billy asked, his gaze sliding down her body.

“Great,” Maddie said absently, and eyed Gracie’s phone on the table. “I’m going to call.”

“What?” Billy glanced over his shoulder. “Who?”

She grabbed the cell, pressed the menu button, and scrolled through the names until she found Mitch.

The phone was snatched from her grasp. She let out a screech, her fingers clasping at air. “Hey! Give that back.”

Gracie slipped it down the V of her tank and into her ample cleavage. “Come and get it.”

Billy plopped down on a vacant stool, eyes bugging out of his head.

Maddie stared at Gracie’s chest and contemplated. She could stick her hand down a woman’s top. It was no big deal—just skin, for God’s sake. She jumped off the stool and straightened to her full five-foot-three inches. “What is wrong with calling him?”

“It’s a girlfriend’s responsibility to stop her friend from the dreaded drunk dial.”

Maddie scowled. She was not drunk dialing! “Telling him where I am isn’t a crime.”

Gracie planted her hands on her hips. “Sorry, honey. I’m doing this for your own good.”

“You don’t understand.” Maddie picked up her drink and took a slow sip. Her gaze was fixed on the stretch of fabric across Gracie’s ample chest. She wanted that phone, and with way too many margaritas in her system, she wasn’t above groping another woman to get it. “I’m getting that phone.”

Billy’s mouth dropped open, and Maddie was surprised no drool hung down his chin like a rabid dog’s.

“You’ll thank me later.” Gracie didn’t appear the least bit threatened. If anything, she thrust her breasts out farther, as though daring Maddie to come and get it.

“Give it to me!” Maddie stomped her foot.

“Like I said, come and get it.” Gracie batted her thick lashes, cornflower-blue eyes sparkling. She tucked her hand into her top and shoved it lower into her bra.

“All right, but remember, I know how to fight.”

Gracie laughed and Billy whooped like he’d hit the jackpot.

Maddie charged.

Gracie’s eyes widened in surprise, and she let out a holler, crossing her arms over her chest for protection. Maddie refused to be thwarted. She squeezed her lids together so she wouldn’t have to look and flung her hands out, praying she’d get hold of something. When her palm brushed against soft, pillowy cotton, she squealed.

Pay dirt.

“Maddie!” Gracie grabbed her hand, twisting her body to block Maddie’s progress. “That’s my boob!”

Maddie reached again and this time her hand curled around the cotton neckline. She pulled, squirming down the deep V of the top. Her fingers brushed the phone and a surge of adrenaline pounded through her.

“Now, why doesn’t this surprise me?” Mitch’s voice made her knees go weak.

Before she could swing around, she was hauled against his warm, strong body.

She sagged in relief. He’d come for her after all.

“You girls are giving everyone quite a show.” Charlie stood next to Mitch, looking lethal in all black.

Maddie could picture him with an FBI armband over his bicep. Wait . . . was that the FBI? Or was it SWAT?

“With all these disappointed faces, I’m sorry we broke them up.” Mitch’s tone rang with amusement, and Maddie realized it had been too long since she’d heard him sound like that.

“I wanted to call you, but she wouldn’t let me.” Her pulse raced from her girl fight and the buzz of tequila.

His palm spread wide over the expanse of her stomach, his thumb brushing the bottom of her breast. “Well, here I am.”

“See!” Gracie pointed and shook her hips in a little booty dance. “I told you so!”

Yes, she had. She shivered as his arm tightened around her ribs and she sucked in the delicious scent of him. God, she’d missed him. She craned her neck to peer into his face. “I want to talk.”


His fingers tightened at her waist. “Later.”

Gracie let out a happy screech and ran, flinging herself into Charlie’s arms.

He laughed and gave her a big kiss, licking her lower lip. “Margaritas.”

Maddie rested her head on Mitch’s shoulder. “How did you know I was here?”

“Charlie called me and told me you girls were up to no good.” His mouth twitched at the corners as though he was holding back a smile, but she didn’t miss the worry etched in the lines in the corners of his eyes. “You didn’t tell me where you’d gone.”

The loud music and buzz of chatter dimmed as she focused on Mitch. “I know.”

“I didn’t like it.”

She frowned and squirmed out of his arms, turning to face him. “And I don’t like getting a door slammed in my face.”

Mitch’s gaze met hers, his eyes narrowing. Several moments ticked by and the rest of the bar became a blur, dancing around them in fast motion while they stayed still.

Finally, he gave her a slight nod. “I guess we need to talk now.”

She felt a burst of triumph. “Yes, I think that’s best.”

“All right then.” He took her hand and turned to Gracie and Charlie. He motioned toward the door. “We’ll be back.”

Charlie gave them a salute and slid his arm around Gracie’s waist. “Let’s go find a booth.”

Mitch led her toward the bright red front door, weaving through the crowd while saying hello to people Maddie had never seen. He pushed outside, and she was blasted by a gust of warm, humid air.

He paused, scanning the parking lot, which was littered with patrons relegated to smoking outside by Illinois law. Off in the distance, a woman squealed, laughing as a man swung her up over his shoulder and started off toward a flatbed truck.

Mitch tugged her to the side of the building. They strolled past the parking lot and onto the grass, in the direction of an abandoned picnic table. Millions of stars littered the sky, and a momentary pang of loss made her chest go tight.

In Chicago, she could hardly see the stars. Right now, with the tequila buzzing through her veins, she didn’t think she could live without this view every night.

They climbed onto the benches and sat down on the worn wooden table, their bodies close. He always felt so warm and strong against her. His jean-clad thigh pressed against her bare skin as they stared out into the trees. She wanted to reach out and touch him, stroke her hand over his leg, but didn’t.

Ten minutes passed. Maybe they both wanted to prolong the inevitable start of a conversation neither was ready to have but could no longer avoid.

“I’m sorry,” Mitch finally said, surprising her. “The last thing I want to do is shut you out.”

She chanced a glance in his direction. “Then why do you?”

“I’m not used to letting anyone in.” He placed his elbows down on his knees. “I’m not used to anyone caring.”

She searched out the Big Dipper, remembering the first night they’d lain down by the river, a ritual they’d repeated many days and nights since. “Your mom cares.”

He looked at her with an unreadable expression. “Our relationship is strained at best.”

“But she wants to change that.” Maddie saw the way Charlotte watched Mitch when she thought no one was looking. The longing and pain was unmistakable. “She just doesn’t know how to change things.”

He shook his head, a wry smile forming on his perfect mouth. “I’m jealous.”

She frowned. “Of what?”

“Of you.”

She shook her head. “Why in God’s name would you be jealous of me?”

“Hell, Maddie, how long have you known her?” He turned away and looked out into the distance. “Anyone looking from the outside would think you were her kid, not me.”

Ah, it was clicking into place now: his bad moods, his hostility toward Charlotte. Maddie put her head on his shoulder. “She wants that with you, but you’re so cold she doesn’t know how to break through the layer of ice.”

“The Rileys aren’t big on emotional scenes,” Mitch said flatly.

“It doesn’t have to be one. You don’t have to get all gooey. Start by not slamming the door in her face the next time she tries to talk. Or answer her next question like she’s not a telemarketer.”

He didn’t respond.

Maddie placed a palm over his thigh. “She talks about you all the time, you know.”

His muscles bunched. “You’re saying that so I’m nicer to her.”

She raised her head, and when he refused to look at her, she placed a finger on the side of his jaw and forced him to meet her eyes. “I know about Mr. Snugglebottoms.”

His eyes widened, and in the glow of the moon and lights lining the perimeter of the parking lot, he blushed.

It was so unexpected, so completely adorable, that Maddie rushed headlong into a realization that left her stunned.

She was in love with him.

It was no gentle breeze of understanding. No whisper in her heart. It was a freight train barreling toward her with unstoppable force. The knowledge was so scary, so overwhelming, that she had no idea what to do, so she leaned forward and kissed him.

The second their lips touched, it was an inferno threatening to consume them both. His fingers curled around her neck, his thumb tilting her chin to allow him better access. She clutched at his shirt as he devoured her mouth, taking control and threatening to drive her out of her mind with desire.

The temptation to slip under his spell was strong, but they had to stop talking with sex. As crazy as it sounded, the knowledge that she loved him gave her the strength to pull away.

She brushed a finger over his lips. “We need to face reality soon.”

“I know.” It was a harsh, ragged whisper.

“I haven’t forgiven myself for what I said to Sophie. You are so much more than that to me.”

He met her gaze and his expression was hard. “But you’re still leaving.”

She blew out a deep breath and said softly, “Every morning, I wake up and ask myself if today is the day. And every day, the answer is no.”

“I’m not sure how much longer that’s going to be enough.” He pulled away from the intimacy of their embrace and sat forward with his elbows on his knees, and clasped his hands in front of him. “I don’t want to live in limbo anymore, Maddie.”

“I know. What do you want me to do?”

He shook his head. “No. I’m not going to decide for you. I won’t.”

She bit the inside of her cheek. Old habits died hard. As much as she hated it, sometimes it was so much easier to let someone else make her decisions for her. “You were the last thing I expected to run into on that night. Even when I went home with you, I never thought it would turn this complicated. But I’m twenty-eight and I’ve never been on my own. Never had my own apartment. I’ve never lived my own life. Everything has been taken care of for me: my house, my job. Everything.”

A flash of emotion crossed over his face like a summer storm cloud, passing as quickly as it had come. “And what makes you think I’d stand in your way?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

His fingers gripped her jaw. “You’re more yourself with me than you’ve ever been with anyone.”

She blinked. He was right. It was why she loved him. But could she stand on her own? “Maybe.”


“Yes.” He released his hold, his hand falling back to rest on her thigh.

“I can’t keep drifting along.” The more she talked, the more she knew her words to be true. “I need a purpose beyond being someone else’s daughter, sister, or girlfriend.”

“I only want you to be Maddie.”

“That’s what I want too.”

“Then we have the same goal.”

Realizing she’d been diverted from the subject, she nudged him with an elbow. “Hey, how’d we start talking about me? We were supposed to be talking about you.”

“I’m a law—” He broke off suddenly, not finishing the sentence, his mouth etching back into that hard line.

“You’re a lawyer,” she finished for him. “That’s what you need to be doing, not running some bar you hate.”

“I can’t. Not anymore.” The words were flat and toneless.

She wasn’t going to be able to budge him on the subject, at least not yet. A plan percolated in her mind, but she wasn’t quite ready yet. She took a deep breath and broached his family situation instead. “How was the call with your dad?”

He shrugged. “Short. I told him I wasn’t going to let my mom pay. He blustered. I handed the phone to her. He didn’t call for me, he called for her.”

“What did your mom say?” she asked.

Mitch jumped off the picnic table and started to stalk back and forth across the grass. “It’s a stupid plan. He should know better.”

Maddie agreed. The chances were good it wouldn’t work. “Your mom thinks this is her chance to make things right for you.”

His long legs ate up the ground as he circled like a caged lion. “Bullshit. She wants to save him.”

“She wants to save you.”

He shook his head. “She’s always been a sucker for him. No matter what story she’s selling now.”

Maddie shrugged. “I can’t say I blame her.”

Mitch whipped around to face her. “Why do you say that?”

“She says you’re a lot alike.”

“I’m nothing like him.” Hands clenched into fists.

“As I said, we’ve been talking a lot. She told me who he was before he got caught up in the power of politics, who he was when she first met him. I think you’re more alike than you think.”

“I’d never screw over people like he does.” Anger emanated from Mitch, aggression in the set of his legs and arms. He was ready to attack.

She raised one brow. “Are you sure about that?”

He reared back as though she’d struck him. “How could you think that?”

“You’ve said yourself you weren’t a very nice person. Have you ever thought about what would have happened if you hadn’t lost your career?” She straightened her shoulders and looked him straight in the eye. “You didn’t have the best track record. You walked a shady line. You were sleeping with another man’s wife. Destroying evidence. Who knows what you would have become if the whole house of cards had never fallen around you?”

He stopped walking as though snapped by an invisible leash. With his expression transforming into a thundercloud, he crossed his arms over his chest. “So what are you trying to say, Maddie?”

He needed some cold, hard truth. Tough love, as her dad used to say. “Have you ever thought that losing your career and reputation was the best thing that ever happened to you? Maybe the tragedy wasn’t that everything went to hell, but that you never picked up the pieces and put them back together again.”