Page 18 of Long Hard Road

“That’s a real smile,” I whispered.

His eyebrows shot up. “What?”

“You smile all the time, but it always looks force. Or, pained? It looks like you’re doing your best imitation of a genuine smile.” I ducked my head shyly, embarrassed to admit that I’d been watching him so closely. “That smile you just gave me was real and it was perfect.”

His lips parted and then clamped back together. He kept staring at me like he was trying to figure me out or mentally dissect me.

“Sorry. That was probably a weird thing to say.” I tucked my hair behind my ear and pretended to be fascinated by the glass in my hands.

“It wasn’t weird. It was alarmingly accurate.” His hard exhale had me looking at him from the corner of my eye. “I think I’m still adjusting to the normal world, too.”

“Maybe we could help each other,” I suggested. “You can teach me how to interact in social situations and talk to men without sounding like an idiot. In return, I’ll find as many ways as I can to get you to smile.”

“It sounds like we would have to spend more time together. Maybe even venture into public together. Are you sure you want to commit to that?” he asked doubtfully.

I didn’t have to think about my answer. “Yes, I’m sure. It will be good for me to step out of my comfort zone.” I almost sounded like I believed that. “Unless you don’t want to be seen with me. I would understand if that’s the case.”

“You would – ” He gaped at me. “What?”

“I know that I’m probably not your ideal companion. You already said you think I’m too young and naïve. Our lives are so different that we likely don’t have much in common. Plus, I’m sure you don’t usually hang around women for fun unless you’re, you know, sleeping with them.”

“Madison, stop talking.” He shook his head and scoffed. “Is that what you think of me? That I only want one thing from women?”

“Well, I mean, that’s typically been my experience with men. Though, I suppose those men may not be the best representatives of the entire male populace, especially considering they are a minuscule sample of a much larger population.”

Nate groaned. “Shit, I don’t have a choice. It’s obvious you desperately need my help. You talk like a nerdy professor when you get flustered.”

“You make me sound pathetic.” I couldn’t even be insulted because his assessment of me wasn’t wrong. “Unless… you have a thing for nerdy professors? Should I threaten to fail you if you don’t succumb to my demands?”

That smile was back, setting my heart aflutter and stealing my breath. “I couldn’t say no to you even if I wanted to, angel.”

7

NATE

As I strolled into the post office the next morning, my head was filled with thoughts of Madison. After agreeing to her proposition, we’d filled ourselves with stew and more of Amelia’s pastries, washing it all down with more bourbon. She had eventually dozed off on the couch mid-sentence. My instincts told me to carry her to bed, but my brain told me that I should stay as far away from her bed as possible.

I’d settled for guiding her into a more comfortable position on the couch with a pillow tucked under her head. A worn blanket had been draped over the back of the couch and I pulled it over her before checking to make sure the fire was completely extinguished. On my way out of her cabin, I paused next to the couch and watched her sleep for a moment. Her blond hair fanned the pillow and the moonlight streaming through the window covered her skin in a pale light that made it seem like she was glowing.

“Maybe you are an angel,” I had whispered, brushing a knuckle over her cheekbone. “Sweet dreams, Madison.”

Then I went home and collapsed, sleeping more deeply than I had slept in a long time. Madison had greeted me with a shy smile when I’d stopped by this morning. She frowned a little when I asked her if she’d kept the tracker. I told her that I wanted to get rid of it for her so we wouldn’t have to worry about anyone stalking her location. I could tell she was doubtful of my intentions, but she went to her refrigerator and came back with the tracker.

“Keeping it cold so it doesn’t spoil?” I had teased.

“Signals don’t penetrate refrigerators or something. I saw it in a movie.” She had looked so adorable when she saw my smirk and crossed her arms over her chest, lifting her chin defiantly.

I just laughed and flicked the tip of her nose with my fingers. “If you say so, angel.”

Something had flashed through her eyes and she took a step back. After a stuttering goodbye, the door was shut in my face. I wasn’t sure what caused her cold reaction, but I had clearly said or done something wrong. That was a problem for later, however, because I wanted to get this tracker far away from Crestwood as soon as possible.

I knew everyone in the post office, including the clerk. Betty Speers had been working there since I was a kid. Her daughter had been my fifth-grade teacher. I’d taken her granddaughter to the homecoming dance freshman year.

She read the address on the padded envelope I handed her and smiled. “Brent? How’s your brother doing?”

“He’s good. Still in D.C. getting assholes elected to office.” I always felt a little uncomfortable when the locals asked about Brent. I knew a lot of them thought he was a jerk for leaving town and starting his high-paying job working for politicians.

Betty just laughed, though, and added the correct postage to the envelope. “You know, Nate, if you’re still single, Maisy will be back in town next weekend.”

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