Page 38 of Recklessly, Wildly Yours

Ethan

Maddie and I skipped the steakhouse and headed straight to my friend’s bar. I suggested that because I was concerned the restaurant might not offer as much privacy as a quiet, dark corner in the bar would, and I figured tonight she might appreciate that. We arrived forty minutes ago and ordered tacos for dinner, which we’ve just finished eating. My buddy, Dan, has tried to get away from serving drinks but so far hasn’t managed to, so Maddie and I have spent the time talking about photography. She’s guided the conversation and I’ve gotten the impression she’s doing her best to avoid talking about herself.

There was something different about her after she got ready for dinner. She walked out of the bathroom while I was wrapping up my phone call and the way her shoulders were pushed back, along with the look of determination on her face, was vastly different to the way she’d looked when she walked into the bathroom.

I didn’t ask for her thoughts because I figured we’d already talked and she’d bring it up again if she wanted to continue the conversation. She’s got a lot to think about and she doesn’t need another man telling her what to do. I already felt I’d overstepped when I suggested she invite chaos in. I don’t have a fucking clue about her work and the challenges she faces in it, so I need to start keeping my thoughts to myself when it comes to her career.

“So,” she says settling back against the booth in the corner of the bar where we’re sitting. “How long have you known Dan? And how long has he owned this bar? And”—she grins—“how are you friends with someone who loves bluegrass as much as Dan obviously does when you hate country music?” She’s referencing the fact the music selection in the bar tonight has been nothing but bluegrass.

I chuckle. “I don’t hate country.”

She arches a brow. “That doesn’t seem like a statement filled with truth.”

Before I can reply to that, Dan slides into the booth next to Maddie, places a glass of bourbon on the table in front of him, and says, “What’s that about truth?”

The smile Maddie gives him is lit like a Christmas tree. She gives him all of her attention, turning her body to face him. “Your boy here is telling lies about loving country music. I’m just calling him out on it.”

Dan eyes me with amusement before looking back at Maddie. “I like you already, and I don’t usually like any woman Ethan dates.”

Maddie reaches for the bourbon I selected for her. She asked me to choose because the menu had too many options for her to wade through. “Mr. McHottie and I aren’t dating,”

Dan laughs. “Mr. McHottie?”

She sips some bourbon. “That’s what my assistant calls him.” Then, giving me a flirty look, she adds, “It fits.”

Fuck.

I feel every bit of that look she’s throwing my way deep in my gut.

Dan eyes me over the rim of his glass as he sips his drink. I know him almost as well as I know my brothers, so I know what he’s saying without uttering a word. Get your act together, dickhead, and fix the non-dating situation.

I ignore that and answer Madeline’s earlier questions. “I’ve known Dan since we were kids. He grew up in New York.”

“You went to school together?”

Dan nods. “Yeah. I moved here two years ago after inheriting this bar from my father.”

“And,” I say, “he’s always loved bluegrass. Fuck knows why.”

Maddie grins triumphantly, pointing at me. “I knew it! You do hate country.”

“No, I’m not a fan of bluegrass, but your kind of country is okay.”

That slows her down and she stares at me for a long moment. “You know my music?”

“Not before I met you, but I’ve listened to some since then.”

“Wait,” Dan interrupts. “You’re a singer?”

“Yes.”

“You sing country?”

Maddie’s smile is huge, as is the way she relaxes right in front of me. Over the last few days, I’ve picked up that she’s not comfortable with her fame and I think she loves the fact Dan hasn’t recognized her. “You’re my new favorite person, Dan. And yes, country is my first love.”

He’s fully engrossed in this conversation now. Dan’s the biggest music nerd I know. “Would I know your music?”

I laugh. “You’ll know it.” He likely hasn’t recognized her because he’s only about the music not the star.

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