Page 169 of Mad As Hell

My legs ached as I stretched them, and I twisted my back to relieve some of the tension as the others got out of Court’s Range Rover. Ryan pulled our bags out of the back before jerking his head, indicating that I should follow him up the front steps to a massive set of glass doors.

I glanced back to see Bex yawn, clearly having slept her way through the drive like I had. When she stumbled a little, Court was at her side to steady her. I called it a win that she didn’t immediately pull away.

The doors before us opened, and a thin, willowy older woman with white hair pulled back into a severe bun at the base of her skull greeted us. The formal look on her face softened when she saw Ryan, and she surprised me by throwing her arms around his shoulders.

“Oh, my, boy,” she cried, hugging him hard before holding him away from her body and taking a long look at him. “Your mother and grandmother would be so proud.” Her gaze cut to me. “And this must be your fiancée.”

“Maddie,” I said, holding out my hand.

She took it in hers. “A pleasure to meet you, dear. I’m Mrs. Beechum, Mr. Harris’s house manager. If there’s anything you need, please don’t hesitate to ask. I’ve set you up in the western wing in one of the guest—”

Ryan groaned. “Really?”

A twinkle lit her dark eyes as she looked at Ryan, and I realized she was teasing him. “I’ll have her things brought to your room, darling.” She winked at me, her mischievous expression instantly putting me at ease. “But if he takes untoward liberties with you, dear girl, say the word.”

I eyed Ryan. “Duly noted, Mrs. Beechum.”

“Come in,” she encouraged us, and we’d no sooner crossed the threshold than she was greeting the others with delight. She fussed over Court needing a haircut, asked Ash if he was still on track with his double majors, and teased Linc about a tackle he’d missed in the last game.

She adored all of them, and it soothed something in my soul to see an adult in their world give a damn. They all grinned at her, eating up her questions and praise.

When she turned to Bex, her head tilted. “Little Rebecca Whittier? I don’t suppose you remember me, do you?”

Bex blushed and shook her head. “I’m sorry, I don’t.”

Mrs. Beechum waved away her discomfort with a grin. “No worries, dear. You were a small girl the few times we met, and quite ill, from what I recall. I’m glad to see you healthy and whole.”

“Thank you,” Bex murmured, clearly embarrassed by the attention.

“All of you must be exhausted,” Mrs. Beechum continued, ushering everyone into the foyer. “Set your bags down.”

No sooner had the guys dropped our bags and suitcases than people appeared to carry them up the curving staircase.

I looked around the space, taking in the dark hardwood floors, the gold-and-glass chandelier that hung above us, the cream-colored walls, and artwork that looked like it cost a fortune amongst framed family photos. Looking closely, I could make out younger versions of not only Ryan and Cori, but the guys, too.

“This home is beautiful,” I said in awe. Unlike the cold and sterile marble entryway of Gary’s house, this looked inviting. Like I could turn a corner and find a stone fireplace with an overstuffed armchair to curl up in, surrounded by walls of bookcases.

I already never wanted to leave.

Mrs. Beechum beamed at me before glancing around the space with pride in her eyes. “It is lovely. Clara—forgive me, Mrs. Harris—had splendid taste. It has carried throughout the years.” She looked at Ryan. “Your grandfather is waiting for you in the sitting room. He’s been looking forward to your visit.”

“Is Cori here yet?” he asked.

She nodded, a bright smile on her face. “Yes. She’s out at the stables. There’s a new litter of puppies. I told Brenda to have her in by supper.”

Ryan grinned. “Awesome.” He grabbed my hand and tugged me forward.

“Supper is at seven!” Mrs. Beechum called. “And make sure you give those girls a proper tour of the house.”

“A tour, huh?” I teased softly.

Ryan’s gaze turned molten as he looked down at me. “Your tour starts and ends in my bedroom.”

I faked a yawn. “I am sleepy.”

His lips brushed my ear as he whispered, “And your pussy is soaked for me. Somehow I think we’ll be up late tonight taking care of that instead of sleeping.” He slapped my ass, and I jolted but managed to cover my cry of surprise as we walked into a room with large windows and several leather couches.

Linc chuckled at my back, and I adamantly refused to let myself turn around. Instead I focused on the man in the wheelchair facing one of the windows that overlooked a lavish vineyard.

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