Page 8

MADISON

Eighteen minutes later, I walk through the doors into the loud, popping music. On the bottom floor of the entertainment tower of the Quad, the rich and famous frequent Dangerous. Cameron Campbell and his brother, Calder, designed the club after their favorites in Amsterdam. I inhale a deep breath as I approach the ground floor area that leads down the stairs to the club. The burly gorilla of a man, who towers over me by half a foot, nods and moves the red velvet rope to just let me walk right in. Why do I feel like I’ve left Dallas and been transported to a ritzy, famous, glamorous club in New York?

I glance around and don’t see Lily or her friends. Most of Lily’s friends are involved with her fiancé, Stewart’s brothers or cousins. I’ve met quite a few of them. Those men come from a phenomenal gene pool. All of them are rich, successful, hot with dark hair and swimming blue eyes, including Lily’s fiancé, the All-Star professional baseball player.

I stop at the bar and catch the attention of the female bartender. The club is decorated in black, white, steel and glass. The hard edges give it a bold, retro look out of the nineteen seventies. It looks like a night club should look. Lily mentioned that above the club, there are other businesses in the Quad, owned by the Campbells and their relatives: the most popular restaurants, bars and clubs in Dallas. I smile thinking about the gentlemen’s club I’ve heard is in the basement.

“What can I get you, hun?” The petite, dark-haired, tatted bartender smiles.

“Surprise me.”

She beams and walks off as I feel a hand slip around my waist and wait for some man to whisper he wants to buy me a drink. The hand tightens and pulls me into a broad chest. I’m tall for a woman at five-foot eleven. Well, I’m just a smidge off six-foot, but that intimidates men, so I just round down.

“Can I buy you a drink?”

Predictable. I face the older man, not quite my height. Well, let’s see whether he’s the confident type or the bully. I smile. “Sure. But let’s drop the hand.”

He frowns and tightens his grip. “You don’t mean that. I saw you come in. You’re alone.”

“I’m meeting friends.”

“That’s okay. Why don’t we grab a table and get to know each other?”

“I came to dance with friends.”

His face scrunches up as Lily and her posse join me at the bar. Her look frightens the man, and he steps away. “I can’t leave you alone for a moment that you don’t find trouble.”

My brows come together. “Trouble?”

She leans up on her tiptoes. “He’s a regular creep.”

I laugh. “Figures. I seem to draw those.”

The bartender sets down my drink and takes the ladies’ orders. I sip the nectar with just a kick of alcohol, smiling. I’m not a heavy drinker as it doesn’t work to do that in-season, but I like an occasional cocktail.

“Have you been here long?”

I smile at Lily’s best friend, Mia Campbell. “No. Just got here.”

She motions down toward my knee. “It’s good?”

“Yeah. I guess I start practice with Dauntless tomorrow.”

Various women squeal in delight as Mia nods. “Lily mentioned you were here for good.”

I shrug. “We’ll see. I can be traded at any time.”

“You won’t be.” Mia leans in. “You’re just what the team needs to get them to the next level.”

I can’t answer because Lily pulls my arm and drags me to the dance floor. “Dance.” I tip my head to drop my hair down my back and absorb the loud, pulsing music. My knee has just a touch of stiffness. I’m incredibly lucky the ACL surgery was successful. I shimmy down and back up, comfortable on my three-inch heels, even though they make me even taller. I’ve learned to embrace my size. Men join our group of women and dance with us. No one specifically engages me, and I’m happy with the chance to just hang out and have fun.

We’ve been dancing for twenty minutes. Gorgeous couples, well dressed and happy, grind into each other. Lily’s fiancé joins her on the floor, and her excitement at seeing her man is palpable. Am I missing out on that? He’s a pro athlete, she’s an agent. They’re busy but the fireworks they’re sharing shows they make it work. A few more single men enter the dance floor, and I’m dreading the usual type of man who’ll feel comfortable touching me. As though my thought manifested it, a hand slips along my hip. I sigh, knowing the man from earlier has crawled back. I make eye contact for a moment without a smile and edge my hip away from his hand as I maneuver myself to the other side of the dance floor, easing in between two of the friends Lily brought. The music shifts into my favorite techno beat. I catch the rhythm as I throw up my arms.

That man’s fingers pull into my hip as his second hand grasps my other. Enough. I turn and glare at the man. “Hands off.”

He laughs. His sneer confirms he’s the bully kind, and not someone I should know. I stop dancing to step back, crossing my arms as he laughs louder, his fake smile turning into a sneer. His hand outstretches as I step back into a hard chest. The man behind me is taller than I am. His masculine, woodsy scent catches my nose as he gently eases me around him and stands before the bully. Words are exchanged, and I don’t stick around. It figures Dixon would be there to intervene. I step to the bar. A second drink is called for after that.

The DJ changes the mood by changing the beat. Loud bass thumps through the club. Bright colored lights slam along the walls. Reds, blues, and bright white remind me of a Fourth of July celebration and I can almost taste the cool, ripe watermelon we have every year.

Sauntering up to the bar, the cute bartender smiles as I tick my head up mouthing, ‘drink’. She nods as I sit on a stool. Dixon will find me and stick his nose in my business. I feel him move next to me and take the seat. He leans closer. “Are you okay?”

I nod as the bartender sets down my drink. “I’m fine. That’s not the first time some random bully has put his hands on me.”

He growls and the sound catches my full attention. “No one puts their damn hands on you unless you want them to.”

I roll my eyes. “You should have been born a woman. We deal with this shit all the time. You’d think they’d be afraid of someone my size, but no, that seems to be an invitation for some guys.”

He exhales. “I was hoping to get the chance to talk to you.”

I cock my head. “This really isn’t much different from putting your hands on me when I don’t want it on the dance floor.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve got no interest in dealing with you anymore than some bully troll.”

His chuckle has a thread of hurt and I cringe. “I get it. We’re going to see each other. It would be best if it wasn’t awkward.”

I turn in my stool and face him. “Okay. What?”

He puts out his hand. “Can we move to the balcony so we can talk without screaming?”

Oh that’s a phenomenal idea. “Maybe I want to scream.” I allow him to cup my elbow with his hand to lead me to the opposite area of the club. He pushes the glass door and walks us out. The door closes, and the sound shuts down. My ears pulse, and I take a sip of my cocktail. I think she added a bit more alcohol than the last one and relish the buzz. “What?”

“I’m sorry about what Brian told you at the hotel.”

I laugh. “Of course you are. God forbid you’d have told me yourself. Married?”

He holds up his hand. “Give me a chance to explain.”

I down my cocktail and cock my head to listen. “That was four years ago.. We haven’t thought about each other since then, so why does it matter?”

Hurt slams into this chiseled face. “You may not have thought about me, but I think about you all the time.”

Cocking my hip, I cross my arms not hiding my scowl. “Why?”

“Why what?” His frown pulls at my heart.

“Why are you telling me now that you’ve thought about me?”

He grabs my upper arms with his hands and pulls me closer. “I was wrong not to contact you both times.”

I shake my head and cast my eyes to the lights reflecting on the tall glass building. “Sure.”

He moves his hand to touch my chin and brings my eyes to his. “The first time, I let Brian convince me that we wouldn’t work. I was gone all the time, and you were young. It wouldn’t have been fair to you.”

I grit my teeth. “Fair?”

He closes his eyes and takes a breath. “My leaving without a word wasn’t fair, either. But I wasn’t ready for a commitment any more than you were.”

“Fine.” I take a small step back as his hands fall to his sides.

“For the record, I did think about you. I devoured any bit of information I could find about you online.”

The ice surrounding my heart cracks for the first time since the hotel. “You should have told me you were married.”

He adjusts his stance and leans back. “Yes. I should have. I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” My blood pressure rises as my heart rate picks up. “You hurt me by just leaving, and when Brian told me about your marriage while we were in New Jersey, you had the chance to explain then and you didn’t.” Not that I really would have listened, I bolted out of there as fast as I could.

“Again. I was wrong. I was a tier-one operator. As a SEAL, I wouldn’t be home for months at a time. Contact is limited on ops.” He rubs his hand over his hair. “I wasn’t ready, and neither were you.”

“You act like you had a thought about the future.”

“I did. I figured you’d solidify your career, and I’d retire from the SEALS. I’d come find you.”

My heart leaps into my throat as I gasp. The colors change in the club and reflect off the glass. Green and yellow with flares of magenta, making nausea overtake my senses. “You assume too much.”

He drops his eyes. “Probably. I’ve always known you’re the one. Those four days over Christmas when we went hunting meant so much to me.”

Blood courses through my veins and the noise is deafening. The nerve. “We’ll come back to that ridiculous statement in a minute. Tell me why I shouldn’t castrate you for cheating on your wife.”

He exhales and leans against the wall. “It’s complicated and not, both at the same time. Meredyth, my girlfriend from high school, got cancer and needed health care.”

My brow lifts. Okay, I wasn’t expecting the conversation to shift back to high school. “That’s horrible.”

“It is. She found out three days before I joined the Navy. Her parents sucked. Neither had a job, so she didn’t have health care or anything but a roof over her head, and we knew that would be short-lived.” He scrapes his hand through his hair, and I realize he’s changed since we last saw each other in New Jersey. The cold, crewcut, military man has downshifted to a calmer, quieter being.

“So, I married her. She got health care and a housing allowance. I sent my check home to her once a month, so she had money to live on. I only saw her every six months or so.”

“Is she okay?”

He nods. “Yes, thank God. She’s getting married next month.”

His words rattle around my brain. His explanation excuses some of it, but I’m still angry. “Loyalty means everything to me. My father was a jerk. He cheated on my mother and abandoned us for weeks at a time. After his death, we realized he had another family with step-children he spent time with when he wasn’t with us. So, my finding out you’re a cheater matters.”

He nods. “I get it. She and I stopped dating in high school. We were just friends. Neither of us considered it a genuine marriage; it was a convenience for her. It worked. She went into remission and is doing really well.”

“You’re old Dixon. Shouldn’t you have divorced and stopped paying her when her health improved?” I raise my hand. “Never mind. That’s not my business. Thanks for telling me. I’m glad she’s better. So, if she’s getting married then you and she aren’t married anymore?”

“No. We had it annulled.”

“Huh. They still do that?”

He nods slowly. “I wasn’t unfaithful to her when I was with you. We didn’t have an intimate relationship and never consummated our marriage. I should have told you, but it was a secret, and I just didn’t share it. The military wouldn’t have approved our marrying for her health care.”

“Okay.” His words remind me how much I hate secrets as my blood heats again. “You shouldn’t have slept with me.”

He folds his arms across his chest. “That’s true.” He reaches for me, and I step back. “Madison?”

I hold up my hand. “My listening to your excuse isn’t giving you permission to start something again. I’d be a total idiot to think round three would have any better outcome.”

Dixon’s pupils dilate and his nostrils flare. “I think you can agree that we’d be really successful with round three.”

I blush. Bringing it back to sex warms my core. I’ve never had a better lover, and my body is screaming at me to give him another chance. Shaking my head, I gnaw on my lip. “I appreciate your explanation, but I don’t see myself trusting you again. You had multiple opportunities to tell me the truth. I don’t want a man who puts excuses before me.”

He dips his head and whispers. “I won’t.”

Scoffing, I whisper. “Yeah. I don’t see this working.” I shift around him and grab the handle of the door. “Thanks for intervening with the bully. Goodbye Dixon.”