Page 15 of Bossy Hero

“I’ll take things I’d rather not think about for eight hundred, Alex.”

I can’t see it, but I know he smiles.

“Madeline, I thought we already discussed my name. Big Al isn’t short for Alex.”

“And I thought you were going to call me Maddie.”

“I’ll call you Maddie if you call me Big Al.”

“Nope. You’ll always be Alan to me.”

His chuckle slips around me like a warm hug, driving away the cold. “Why won’t you call me Big Al? Everyone has called me that for most of my life.”

I click my tongue, contemplating if I want to answer truthfully or keep things above board. “I’m not sure whether I should say.”

“Well, now you have to say it. Don’t leave me in suspense.”

My lips thin with a wide smile. “If you must know,” I begin, drawing it out in a dramatic pause. “Big Al sounds phallic. Like we’re talking about your... you know. Your private first class.”

His laugh is big and loud. Rich like velvet.

I love it.

“I can’t believe you just said that,” he coughs out.

Through laughs of my own, I sputter, “You wanted to know. Hope you’re happy.”

“That was great.” He slaps his hand twice on the bed like he’s trying to clap quietly. “But no, Maddie. That’snotwhere the nickname came from. If it had been the origin, I’d probably be called Little Al.”

We laugh together until my cheeks hurt—with happy pains this time instead of the sting of a fist or burn of a backhand. That’s a welcome change.

As the moments pass, I begin to feel... the stirrings of contentment. Pure and simple. Like seeds have sprouted deep in the darkness of my soul. Being away from Travis—separated by what I hope is at least ten states—is doing wonders for my spirit. Seeing my son helped too.

And now my unexpected new friend.

I tuck the extra pillows around me as if I’m building a wall to protect myself. From what? I don’t know.

Certainly not this man in the bed next to me. A man who dropped everything at a moment’s notice to bring my son up to the diner on his day off. A man who insisted on paying for the motel and was prepared to protect me all night long from his perch on the cold concrete in the middle of a Georgia winter. A man who has saved my son’s life.

Alan’s a good man.

So what am I afraid of?

My husband’s face flashes through my mind.There’sthe answer.

I’m terrified of him walking through that door. Finding me here, with another man, and brutally making me pay for daring to leave him.

This time, when the tears come, I remind myself to stay quiet. I’d rather my new friend not know how broken I am on the inside. There was no hiding the outside. But the inside is mine to reveal or protect.

I pull a pillow in front of my chest, choosing the only shield I have access to right now.

Protecting myself from the burgeoning feelings for the man a few feet away. And anything else that means to harm me.

Chapter3

From the emails of Big Al & Maddie

To: ALancaster

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