Page 18 of Manacled Hearts

None are directed at my sister and me. They look at Maddox like they want to flee, yet I get the feeling that they’re deepest desire is to throw themselves at his feet.

Who did I come here with?

I narrow my eyes on the man who walks a step in front of me completely ignoring everyone around him, apart from the old shopkeeper who gives him a warm smile. He nods as he leads us out on the other side of the establishment and onto a small wooden deck set on the beach.

I want to ask what’s happening, but more sets of eyes fall on us. This time around they notice me too and stare in confusion. I don’t blame them. I feel utterly out of place in my too-big worn out jeans and ripped Converse—I didn’t want to wear Katya’s hand-me-downs out, so I’m dressed in the same clothes I was kidnapped in. Albeit washed way too many times to drown some of those memories. Maddox is wearing jeans too, but not only are they perfectly fitted on him, they look brand new.

Yes, clothes haven’t been my priority in the last couple of years, yet I’ve never felt so inadequate.

“Sit, Evelyn.”

I rip my gaze off my poor shoes and let go of Maya’s hand. She already took a seat and is dangling her legs excitedly as she reaches for the menu. I awkwardly sit, my gaze drifting to the eyes fixed on us.

“You get used to it,” Maddox mutters.

He shifts enough to swipe his gaze over the curious ones, and in unison, they all go back to their drinks.

“Why are they staring at us?”

He turns, sighing, and looks over to the soft waves of the calm sea. “Nothing better to do,” he grumbles.

No other explanation then. Maybe I should push and ask about them.

“I appreciate all Katya and you have done for us. Offering us a temporary place to stay and feeding us. I just…” The words fail me. Courage too. I’ll sound ungrateful, not just nosy.

“No worries. You’ve been through enough, you deserve it. Plus, your… situation.” He skirts around that particular area, pushing a menu toward me.

“I’m okay. I don’t need anything.” I slide it away without opening it.

“Nobody needs our gelato, little lady.” The man from the counter startles me as he shows at my side, a notepad in hand. “Everyone wants it, though. All you need is a taste, and you’ll be hooked.”

His smile is infectious, a single gold tooth gleaming in the sunlight as he scribbles something on the paper.

“Usual for me, Genaro,” Maddox says, pushing the menu my way yet again.

His gaze tells me he’s not going to take my crap. He’s onto me, and I hate it. It’s not only embarrassing, but down right humiliating not having money of my own to buy my sister an ice cream. Having strangers do these things for us is uncomfortable. Wrong, even.

“Can I have the salted caramel millionaire’s Sunday, please? And lemonade?” my sister orders, grinning from ear to ear, oblivious to my struggle.

Christ, she’s glowing. Thriving, even, here in Queenscove, with Maddox’s attention and Katya’s books. I’m heartbroken that I haven’t been able to put a smile like that on her face in… actually, I don’t know in how long.

Have I ever?

“And you, gorgeous?” Genaro turns his attention back to me.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t read the menu. Um—”

“Tell you what, I’ll surprise you.” He interrupts, and the prospect seems to excite him. Like I gave him an interesting challenge. Although, technically he gave it to himself. “What don’t you like?”

“Mint. I hate mint.”

“Finally! I swear everyone loves mint, and I can’t stand it. They all ask for it when they come into my shop, but I refuse to make it. Even the smell puts me off. You’re my kind of gal!” He squeezes my shoulder and shakes me a little.

The old man is filled with such energy, for a few moments I forget that I was feeling miserable.

“I’ll trust you then,” I say, giving him a gentle smile, and he seems to brighten even more. “And a cappuccino, please?” My gaze moves to Maddox involuntarily, seeking some sort of approval.

He doesn’t react, he only listens.

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