Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 96850 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96850 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
“You were thinking about leaving without coming in, weren’t you?” Madden said.
Her lips twitched. “Parties aren’t really my thing. Or yours. I don’t exactly see you out there doing the robot.”
“You just missed my dance battle. The place was going mental.”
“Oh, really?” Eve pursed her lips. “Someone had to be filming. I’ll ask around.”
“See that you do.”
She smiled up at him in a sly, mysterious way that was new. As if, perhaps, she’d finally become aware of her appeal. As if she’d been told she was beautiful. By who, though? And lord, why did the idea of someone else calling her beautiful make his throat burn so badly?
Maybe it was that spiky flash of jealousy that brought Madden to a decision. Or maybe his need to stop hiding his interest in Eve was a desire that had been taking root for a very long time, against his will. Whatever the catalyst, that night, under the roof of the tent, Madden had a long-awaited reckoning about Eve. He grew determined to do something about her. To finally kick aside the age roadblock and find out why he’d been so dedicated to her from day one, unable to get her out of his head. To find out why he considered her feelings and well-being above anyone else in his entire life.
It was high time to solve the mystery of Eve.
“I could show you, instead,” Madden said. “Dance with me.”
If he blinked, he would have missed the panic that scrambled across her face. “You’re asking me to dance?”
“Aye, before someone else does.”
She breathed a laugh. “You’ve been gone too long. No one’s going to ask.”
A muscle yanked in his chest. “There are a lot of foolish men in this town, but they can’t all be fools.”
That threw her, a line appearing between her brows, as if she was trying to decide whether or not he’d paid her a compliment. “Maybe not. But I wouldn’t want to dance with any of them, anyway.”
“Good.”
That earned him a startled, measuring look. “Good?”
Cautiously, he threaded their fingers together, his pulse picking up at the contact, premonition rolling up the column of his spine. “That’s what I said.”
Needing a moment to gather himself, Madden turned and guided her toward the farthest end of the dance floor. Away from the hosts. Away from the spotlight.
And then he offered his arms to Eve for the first time, tugging her inch by inch with his grip on her wrist, holding his breath while letting her come closer part of the way on her own. She fit against him like they’d been cut from the same mold and he struggled not to make the sound forcing its way up his airways. She’s here. I can hold her this way now.
“Crash into Me” by Dave Matthews Band was playing and the scattered notes matched their first few steps, because they were both nervous and dealing with the sensation of touching, of looking into each other’s eyes while touching, but they were moving in a rhythm by the start of the second verse, his right hand on the small of her back, his left one clasping her hand, resting it against his shoulder.
“So if you’re not bothering with the fools of this town, what are your plans, now that you’ve sprung the halls of Cumberland High?”
While looking at the notch of his Adam’s apple, Eve slow blinked, as if she liked the sight, and the muscles below his waist slowly drew tight.
“Oh, um.” She appeared to mentally shake herself. “You didn’t hear?”
“Hear what?”
“My father decided to retire and move closer to his brother in Texas. He’s selling the house and giving me and Ruth a nest egg to do whatever we want.” She wet her lips. “I convinced him to leave me the club, instead of selling it too.”
Madden’s gut sank to the floor. He’d never liked her spending time at Cat Fight. Not because he looked down on the establishment or her association with the place, but he didn’t like her around grown men with sex on their mind. In fact, he hated it with every fiber of his being. Eve got enough judgment for being the daughter of a strip club owner, though, so he’d grown practiced at guarding her from afar and holding his tongue. “He did?”
“Yes,” she said, with a classic Eve chin raise. “But I’m going to turn it into something different. Something that feels more like mine. A burlesque club.” Her slowly building excitement held him captive. “It’s going to be a daring and eclectic speakeasy straight out of another time. Smoky and mysterious with hidden corners and jazz. Stage entertainment.” Eve looked Madden in the eye, her smile slipping. “I don’t want to run from who I am. I want to own it. Be unflinching about my legacy in this town, but . . . make it my own. You know?”