Page 57 of Call It Love (Sterling Mill #5)

The V8 engine started with a roar before settling into a purr. I hesitated, drumming my thumbs on the steering wheel. Madelyn still hadn’t made a peep. Sighing, I angled my body toward her. “Are you all right?” I asked.

Her head gave a jerky nod as she folded one of her arms across her stomach and propped her other arm on the door, cradling her chin in her hand.

She appeared fascinated by a blue jay attempting to overtake a small sidewalk puddle that a smaller brown bird had already claimed.

Her upper lip lifted ever so slightly as the smaller of the two birds pecked its way to victory, then bobbed its head and flapped its wings as if doing a celebratory dance.

It seemed we were both advocates for the underdog.

Deciding it was better to respect her need for silence and knowing she wasn’t my problem for much longer, I shifted the truck into drive and pulled away from the curb.

As I navigated the roads toward downtown, I couldn’t help but notice that her free hand had shifted from her stomach and was flexing on her thigh, alternatively pinching then smoothing the denim.

It was hard to recognize this uncertain girl as the same woman who’d stood up to me with such snark a short while ago.

Curiosity drove me to finally ask, “Why didn’t you defend yourself to that woman? Or why didn’t you let me report her for harassment? It would have been within your rights.”

Her eyes remained glued to the road for several minutes before turning toward me.

“Did you see the looks on her girls’ faces?

They were so scared. They didn’t need anyone to make things worse for them.

” She gnawed on her thumb. “They’ve already lost enough.

I won’t be the cause of any more hurt for them.

I just wished she hadn’t done it in front of them. ” Her voice was soft but resolute.

A murderer with a heart?

I darted another look at her, impressed by her insight and caring yet bewildered by the contradictions I’d witnessed in the twenty minutes or so I’d spent with her.

I’d seen the bright look of eagerness on her face when she entered the greeting room, followed by the slump of her shoulders when she didn’t recognize anyone sitting in the chairs.

I watched her swallow hard and square her shoulders when she thought she was on her own.

She even earned a kernel of my admiration when she’d called me out for my lack of manners, only to stand with quiet dignity as Mrs. Regis unleashed a wave of fury upon her. And now this sympathy for those girls.

Part of me wanted to hate her. I had literally been brought to my knees when I lost the other half of my heart years ago.

If someone had knowingly and deliberately taken her from me, I’d be full of hatred and bent on revenge.

Hell, even as it was, I’d been so full of anger, so ready to kill someone—mostly myself.

Mrs. Regis had reason to feel pissed off. Her security for herself and her girls had been stolen, not to mention losing her lover and best friend.

At least, in theory , I reminded myself. She seemed more upset over her current financial situation.

I stole another glance at Madelyn Stone, looking even more lost and lonely in my oversized truck.

Something made me consider it wasn’t as simple as I liked to believe.

She didn’t look big enough to hurt a fly, much less another person.

In fact, she looked more like she needed someone to look after her.

She barely reached my shoulder, was lost in clothes too big for her, and with her wide eyes, she looked more like a character out of a Dickens novel.

She drew on my natural inclination to protect and defend those I cared about.

Part of me wanted to feel sorry for her. Except, how could I care about someone I’d only met this morning? Fuck, I didn’t even know anything about her except what I’d learned in the past twenty minutes, so why was I even bothering to try to figure her out and make sure she was okay?

But when I looked closer into her eyes, beneath the swirls of browns and greens, beneath the layers of pride, uncertainty, and resolve, I saw a vulnerability she couldn’t hide. It tugged on a part of me I thought was long dead and buried. And dead and buried was where it needed to stay.

All of these conflicting thoughts grew into one monstrous headache.

Grateful she wasn’t the chatty type, I followed the directions on my GPS and, several minutes later, pulled into a parking lot on the edge of downtown.

She broke out of her quiet daze and leaned forward to stare at the tan brick building.

It was a much older building than the one I lived in and very nondescript as far as architecture went.

It reminded me of the Lego buildings my seven-year-old nephew liked to build—a tall, straight rectangle with rectangular windows evenly spaced, double rectangular doors on the front, and a sign out in the grass identifying the name of the complex that was shaped, of course, like a rectangle.

At least the parking lot was clean, and the grounds were neatly kept.

“This is where I’ll be staying?”

I scowled at the confusion in her tone. Who the hell did she think she was? “What? It doesn’t live up to your expectations?”

Her eyes widened before turning into dark slits.

“No, actually, it doesn’t. It wouldn’t have surprised me if you’d taken me to a homeless shelter.

” She crossed her arms. “This is far nicer than anything I expected. I’m sure you think someone like me doesn’t warrant this second chance, but I didn’t seek this out, buddy.

” She poked her finger at my chest. “For whatever reason, Mr. McCloskey feels differently, and whatever else I am, I’m a hard worker.

I won’t let Mr. M regret giving me this chance. ”

Hmmph. “I guess we’ll see.” I opened my door and got out, irritated at how she had a knack for turning me into a bad guy.

Relieved she was only my problem for a few more minutes, I opened the back door to my truck and grabbed an envelope I’d been instructed to bring along, leaving her to climb out on her own. My mother would have been appalled. I guess I was zero for two on my manners today.

She crossed her arms as I came around the truck.

“Thank you for the ride, Mr. Andrews, especially as I’m certain you had better and more important things to do this morning than spend it with someone like me.

Oh, I also appreciate you defending me to Mrs. Regis.

” Without waiting for a response, she turned and cut across the grass toward the front door.

I could have sworn I heard her mumble something about not knowing my ass from my elbow, which didn’t make any sense to me, but I couldn’t help but grin. Her sass amused me, and I hadn’t had anything to smile about in a long time.

I started to call after her, but my ass that she referenced decided to lean back against my truck instead.

Ignoring the drizzle, I crossed my arms and watched and waited.

Despite the baggy, unattractive cheap jeans she was wearing, I could still see the gentle sway of her hips.

I had a feeling that if she wore clothes that fit, she’d have a figure worth showing off.

Within minutes, she came back out the front door. I had to bite back laughter as I watched her chest heave before she squared her shoulders and marched with a determined expression in my direction.

“Forget something?” I asked with all the innocence of a choir boy caught in the girls’ bathroom.

She cleared her throat. “It seems that I was a little too eager to explore my new home, and if you would be kind enough to tell me where I need to go or who I need to see, I would be grateful.”

I was about to make a sarcastic comment about not being kind at all, but I noted the dark circles beneath her eyes and put aside any further desire to needle her. Besides, a small part of me grudgingly admired her ability to find a way to maintain her dignity while not quite swallowing her pride.

“Very diplomatic, Ms. Stone. You’d make a good lawyer.”

I gestured for her to lead the way back into the building.

I nodded toward the elevator, which immediately opened when she pressed the up button.

Hitting the button for the fourth floor, I pulled the key ring with two silver keys out of my pocket.

We stepped into a plain white hallway with brown carpet, the only splash of color coming from a couple of wreaths on her neighbors’ doors.

“You’ll be in 403. Looks like it’s this way.”

I turned left and walked until I stood in front of a gray steel door with tarnished brass numbers that matched the key ring.

Figuring it was only fair for her to be the first to open the door to her new home, I held the keys in the palm of my hand.

She stared at them for several seconds before reaching for them and unlocking the door with a shaky hand.