Page 8 of Mad for Madison (The Boys of Hudson Burrow #4)

CHAPTER 7

Ice Cream and Cookies

Bradley

Madison shook his head fervently. He took this seriously, and he wasn’t backing down. But neither was Lily. She said, “The T-Rex is the best dinosaur. It has the biggest teeth, and it’s the king!” A little pout formed on her face. The nerve of this man disagreeing with her.

Madison tossed his head dismissively. “The king? Hmm, I don’t know about that. The stegosaurus has armor! Plates on its back and a spiky tail. That’s way cooler.”

Lily giggled. I wasn’t sure anyone had ever spoken to her so levelly and maturely. “But the stegosaurus can’t even eat meat. How can it fight a T-Rex if it only eats leaves?”

“Ah, but that’s the genius of the stegosaurus. It doesn’t need to eat meat—it’s all about defense. Those tail spikes could totally poke a T-Rex if it got too close.” He swept his arm to mimic the tail and almost sent the cups of ice cream to the floor.

I shifted in my seat, my arm protectively around Lily, who wiggled and fidgeted in the heat of the argument. “But the T-Rex is too fast. It would just dodge the tail spikes and chomp!”

“Chomp? No way! Stegosauruses are experts at swinging their tails. Plus, it has friends. Stegosauruses probably hung out in groups, so your T-Rex would have to deal with all of them.”

Lily frowned in thought, and then a grin spilled over her face. “Okay, maybe the stegosaurus is a little cool, but the T-Rex is still better. It’s the king of dinosaurs!”

Madison threw his hands in the air, sighing in defeat. “Fine, fine. The T-Rex can be the king. But the stegosaurus is the knight with the coolest armor.”

“Okay! They can both be cool. But I still like the T-Rex more.” Lily held her ground firmly.

Madison lifted his gaze off my daughter and looked at me for the first time in several minutes of debate. He wore a pleased expression I couldn’t fully decipher. “I think Lily’s going to be a lawyer,” he said. “In space.”

I threw my head back and laughed, my arm pulling Lily closer by instinct just as she yawned.

“She could be,” I agreed. “If she gets enough sleep.”

“I’ll be cranky tomorrow if I don’t,” Lily said, her inflection reminding me of Gran more than I could handle with a straight face. Madison and I burst out laughing.

“We should get going,” I said, lifting Lily off her seat and putting her in my lap.

Madison followed the movement with his sharp gaze, his lips curled upward in a permanent smile ever since he’d joined us in the museum. I’d never seen him so relaxed.

Last night, he’d been at the top of his game—greeting, flirting, discussing, teasing—but it had been a game. This afternoon and evening, the character was nowhere near us. It was just Madison Masters, enjoying his ice cream like a six-year-old, debating about dinosaurs, smiling and glimmering with warmth. His broad shoulders were relaxed into a partial slouch, not at all trying to keep the posture of perfection from last night. He emphasized his arguments by waving the spoon around, sending a blob of vanilla to his face once, which made Lily cry with laughter. To me, he’d whispered, “It was a clever ploy to distract her.” But Lily had picked up the argument as soon as the fit of laughter had been over.

I’d never loved sitting in a diner as much as I loved it tonight. I’d never been so happy.

And the moment I realized it, my chest ached.

“Do we have to?” Lily asked.

“Yes,” I said in my “dad voice.” “You are way past your bedtime, missy. We’re going home.”

Madison observed me with fascination. I saw it from the corner of my eye. He didn’t know I could see him. He didn’t know he was on my radar at all, except that he was. He was always somewhere in the distance, and I could always see him.

Madison offered to walk with us from the subway to the building. On the way, he teased Lily about all the other dinosaurs he could think of to challenge her firm opinions. “But it can fly. That’s aerial attack power, Lily.”

My daughter remained unconvinced.

When we were near the building, I expected Madison to say good night and get a cab to Hudson Burrow or maybe walk because the night was clear and crisp, and his place wasn’t that far away.

“Say good night, Lily,” I reminded her.

She lifted her head and commanded our attention. “Good night.”

“Good night, Lily,” Madison said. “Oh, and next time, I’ll tell you why Venus is better than Mars.”

Lily was unimpressed. “I like Jupiter.”

“We’ll see about that,” Madison said, sharing a little laugh with my daughter.

I drew a breath of air to say good night to Madison, but I couldn’t find the words to thank him for making this day so special. I wondered if Lily would remember this forever and knew that I would.

“Would you like to have a drink with me?” Madison asked hastily. He licked his lips, and his gaze flicked away before he returned it to my face. “It’s cool if you’re busy.”

It took me a moment to recover. His invitation had catapulted me into space. The brave way he concealed his disappointment prompted me to answer him quickly because he expected the worst. “I’d love that.” My hand cupped the back of Lily’s head. “I just need to tuck her in.”

“I’ll wait here,” Madison said with relief that made my heart race.

After another round of goodbyes, I picked Lily up and carried her into the building. The apartment was warm and smelled like freshly baked cookies.

“Gran?” I called.

“In here,” Gran said from the kitchen.

Lily was half-asleep in my arms as I walked through the apartment. “We’re back,” I said.

“Did you have a nice time?” Gran asked.

“We sure did,” I said. “Lily’s exhausted. It was a lot.”

I carried my baby girl to her room and changed her, alerting her just enough to make it easier, and tucked her under the thick comforter. The moment her head touched the pillow, she gave a pleased sigh and drifted to sleep.

Gran stepped to the doorway as I turned to leave Lily’s room. “She’ll be dreaming big dreams tonight, darling,” she said.

“Oh, I think so, too,” I said. “How are the girls?”

Gran took a few steps back and let me pass. “Muriel’s much better.”

“The new knee working well?” I asked.

“It is. And it hurts less every day,” Gran said, wincing. She feared knee surgeries despite being in great shape and never complaining about knee pain. She could walk ten miles and barely break a sweat.

“My friend is waiting for me,” I said. “Would you mind keeping an eye on her?”

Gran gave me a scolding look. “Why do you always have to ask me that?”

I shrugged. “Because you never asked to have to babysit your grandson and great-granddaughter,” I said.

Gran took my hand in both of hers. “You’re wrong about that, Bradley.”

I nodded, failing once again to find the right words to express my gratitude. “I won’t be late.”

“Be late,” Gran said, winking as she let go of my hand. “And take a few of these.”

Before I knew it, I was leaving the apartment with hot cookies wrapped in a napkin. As I reached the bottom landing and walked out, I realized my mistake. Madison didn’t eat sweets. He’d only had a third of his ice cream for Lily’s sake.

I cringed as I walked toward him. “Gran sends these. We can throw them away if you…”

“Are those cookies?” Madison asked.

“Yeah,” I said apologetically. “She wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

“Are you crazy? We’re not throwing them away,” Madison said, reaching for one chocolate chip cookie. “They’re still warm.”

“I thought you couldn’t eat whatever you liked,” I said.

“Call it a cheat day,” Madison said, biting into the cookie. He let out a sound of pleasure that was borderline erotic, and I laughed out loud. “It’s worth it, dammit. How can I live like this?”

“I’ve been asking myself the same question all day,” I admitted.

“You’re blessed,” Madison said. He started walking slowly as he snacked, and I moved shoulder-to-shoulder with him. “I wonder how much longer I can keep going like that.”

I swallowed and said nothing. To tell him that I envied the body he had would have been the worst misjudgment of the day. But I had to wonder if I only thought that the grass was greener on another hill. We all wanted what we couldn’t have. It was the human experience.

“I just want to have a snack once in a while,” he said. “And stay in, watching TV, instead of spending my life at the gym.”

“I never thought of it that way,” I admitted.

“This was heavenly,” Madison said of the cookie and helped himself to another one. I did the same.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

He looked at me. “Somewhere private?”

I nodded. There wasn’t a better way to end the day than to be somewhere alone with Madison. Even if we only spent the evening talking, it would be a win. But since this morning, the idea that I could live solely on the memory of having been with him was proving treacherous.

“I was debating this a lot,” Madison said, casting a spotlight on pretty much all of my insecurities. My mind came up with a million things he could say to follow this up that would result in disappointment. “I don’t want us to go someplace where we’ll be recognized. I don’t want to act the way I do in public.”

“I don’t want you to, either,” I said.

“I know.” There was a flirtatious smile on his lips when he said that. “I have this place—you will be sworn to secrecy, Bradley, if you want to step inside—and I think we should go there.”

I pulled an imaginary zipper across my lips and lifted my eyebrows in curiosity.

Madison nodded firmly, meaning the business was settled.

He hailed a taxi and dictated the address, then reminded me that this place was his secret. “And what I do there is also secret. But I’m strangely comfortable sharing it with you.”

“I trust you, too,” I said.

Madison smiled softly until the driver dropped us off in front of a dilapidated redbrick building. I did all I could to conceal just how excited I was to be part of his secret.

The stairs creaked as we climbed to the top floor of the old building. Madison led the way, his broad shoulders brushing the peeling walls. He glanced back once, his face half-hidden by shadows, but his smile was visible even in the dim light. When we reached the final landing, he paused in front of a door with layers of paint chipped away and pulled out a worn key from his pocket.

“Ready?” he asked, his voice low but warm.

“Show me,” I said.

The door creaked open to reveal a space that was utterly Madison—rough around the edges yet stunning. The room was flooded with soft, warm light from the many lamps that came on the moment Madison flicked a few switches by the door. The city skyline twinkled in the distance on the other side of the large windows. Canvases were propped against every wall, some resting on easels, others leaning casually against mismatched furniture. The scent of turpentine and paint clung to the air.

Madison stepped inside and tossed his jacket over a chair that looked ready to collapse. “This is it. My sanctuary.”

I followed, my breath catching as I took in the paintings. The figures on the canvases were arresting—nude men in various poses, their forms bathed in light and shadow. The brushstrokes were bold and expressive, capturing not just their bodies but their essence. One canvas depicted a man leaning against a railing, his back to the viewer, muscles taut under golden sunlight. Another showed a pair of men reclining together, their hands almost touching, suspended in that moment before the first contact.

“You painted these,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

Madison nodded, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t show them to anyone. They’re…I don’t know, not good enough.”

I turned to him, stunned by his vulnerability. “Are you kidding? They’re incredible.”

His gaze dropped to the floor, and for a moment, he looked small despite his commanding presence. “I’m not a real artist, Bradley. I just…I don’t know. I come here to feel something. To run away from all the other somethings in my life.”

“You are an artist,” I said firmly. “These paintings—they’re alive. They make you feel. That’s what art is.”

Madison’s lips twitched into a small smile as he turned toward the nearest canvas. “This one,” he said, pointing to a painting of a man standing waist-deep in water, “was inspired by a Henry Scott Tuke piece I saw years ago. But I wanted to make it raw, more emotional.”

“It’s beautiful,” I said, stepping closer. The brushstrokes, messy yet deliberate, seemed to shimmer in the golden light. I could feel the water, the breeze, the quiet intimacy of the moment captured on the canvas.

Madison watched me, his expression softening. “You really think so?”

“I do,” I said, turning to meet his eyes. “You don’t give yourself enough credit.”

For the first time, he seemed to let himself believe me. He let out a breath, his tension easing. “You’re the first person I’ve ever brought here,” he admitted.

“I’m honored,” I said, meaning it.

His smile widened. “I think you just earned another cookie.”

Madison chuckled softly as he walked to a small table where I had set the cookies from Gran. He picked one up and took a bite, the expression on his face somewhere between bliss and disbelief. “Your grandmother might be an actual sorceress. These are amazing.”

“Tell her that, and she’ll demand a portrait as payment,” I teased, gesturing toward the canvases.

He smirked, his gaze flickering between me and the artwork. “She’d probably make a better subject than me.”

“Why do you think that?” I asked, crossing my arms and leaning against the window frame. I looked at one figure on a small canvas, his back turned to me, but his unruly curls and broad shoulders were unmistakably Madison, and I realized it had been a self-portrait. It showed nothing more than his bare back, his round ass, his muscular legs, and the way his head tilted upward to face the vast emptiness of the blue summer sky.

Madison hesitated, his fingers idly brushing crumbs from his hands. “Because I hide. I can play a part when I’m in public—be the perfect smile, the perfect body. But here…” He motioned to the studio. “This is where I strip it all back, and sometimes, it’s messy. That’s not something people pay to see.”

“Madison,” I said, stepping closer, “flaws aren’t just something we’re burdened with—they’re what makes people real. That’s what I feel looking at these. They’re not just beautiful. They’re honest.” I licked my lips as I neared him so dangerously close that I had to restrain myself from taking him into a powerful hold. “And it’s what I see when I look at you.”

His gaze softened as he studied me like he was trying to paint my words into his memory. “Nobody makes me feel like this, Bradley.” He blinked and looked away, arms crossed on his chest, holding himself protectively.

“Like what?” I asked, too scared that I might misunderstand him, that I might get my hopes up.

Madison turned away from me and picked up a bottle of red wine from the small stand where several different bottles of alcohol stood. He shook his head as he looked at the bottle. “Tonight, being with you and Lily, it was the closest I’ve ever been to feeling normal.” He decided the bottle was good enough and picked up a corkscrew. “I never felt that way as a kid. I told you. My parents were never sober, so I had to learn to fight for myself. I had to drag my way out of that pit any way I could. So I did. I never let myself want something I knew I couldn’t have, but you…” He popped the cork out of the bottle and poured us some red wine. “You keep breaking that illusion, Bradley.”

“How am I doing that?” I asked.

“You make me want it,” Madison whispered. He set the bottle beside the glasses and looked up, his gaze meeting mine. “You make me want the things I never thought were possible.”

“What’s stopping you from having them?” I asked.

He gave a choked laugh. “Oh, Bradley,” he whispered. “You make it all seem so simple.”

Madison lifted the two glasses of wine and offered me one. I neared him inch by inch throughout the conversation until I stood with barely a foot of space between us. Even that felt like galaxies existed between us.

Madison handed me the glass of wine, his fingers brushing mine for just a moment. It felt deliberate, like he was testing the waters, but then he stepped back, putting a small but noticeable distance between us. He swirled the wine in his glass, looking down into the deep red liquid instead of at me.

“I don’t know what I’m doing, Bradley,” he said softly. His voice was steady, but there was a weight to it that made my chest tighten.

“What do you mean?” I asked, keeping my tone light. I wasn’t sure I wanted the answer.

He finally looked up, his eyes meeting mine. The intensity in them nearly knocked the air out of my lungs. “This,” he said, gesturing between us. “You. Us. Whatever this is.”

I sipped my wine, mostly to buy myself time. “You don’t have to figure it all out right now,” I said carefully. “We’re just here, talking.”

Madison let out a short laugh that didn’t reach his eyes. “Talking, yeah. Sure.” He turned and walked to the window, staring out at the skyline. “I’m not the kind of guy you should be here with, Bradley.”

The words punched me in the gut, even though he said them with no malice. Just quiet certainty. I didn’t respond right away, afraid I might say something I couldn’t take back. Something that would hurt him or make him shut down completely.

Madison pressed his hand against the windowpane, his broad shoulders hunched. “I’ve spent so long building this life, this persona, and I’ve gotten so good at it that I don’t know who I am when I’m not being him. And that guy…” He paused, shaking his head. “He’s not someone who gets to have what you have. What you are.”

My heart ached at his words, and my grip on the glass tightened. “Madison,” I said gently, stepping closer. “You’re not some caricature. You’re a person. A person who sat in a diner with me and my daughter tonight debating dinosaurs and eating cookies. That’s who you are, too.”

His shoulders rose and fell with a deep breath, but he didn’t turn to face me. “You say that like it’s simple. But it’s not. You think people like me get to have happy endings, Bradley? I’m…tainted. Every part of my life is out there for anyone to find if they look hard enough. Every bad choice, every mistake. How could you look at me the same way if you really knew?”

The quiet admission made my throat tighten. There was so much I wanted to say, but the words tangled in my mind, each one laced with my own doubts and fears. He wasn’t wrong—I had thought about the risks. About the judgment. About what it would mean for Lily, for me, to be tied to someone like Madison Masters, the man everyone thought they knew. But here, in this quiet room filled with the rawest parts of him, all I could think about was the man who had made my daughter laugh so hard she nearly fell off her chair.

“I don’t care about any of that,” I said finally, my voice firmer than I expected. “What you do, the choices you’ve made—it doesn’t change who you are right now. And it doesn’t change the way I see you.”

Madison turned slowly, his eyes searching mine for something—doubt, hesitation, an escape route. Whatever he was looking for, I hoped he didn’t find it.

“You say that now,” he murmured. “But what happens when it’s too much? When it’s not just you and me in a room like this? When people start talking and you have to explain me to your family? To Lily, someday? What then?”

I hesitated. The truth was, I didn’t know the answer to that. I hadn’t thought that far ahead because I was still trying to convince myself this was even real. But the vulnerability in Madison’s voice, the way he stood there as though he was waiting for me to confirm his worst fears, made me want to prove him wrong.

“I don’t have all the answers,” I admitted. “But I know this: I’ve never felt like this before. And I don’t want to let it go just because it might be hard.”

Madison stared at me, his expression unreadable. Then he set his glass down on the nearest surface and took a single step forward. “You think you’re ready for what this would mean?” he asked quietly.

“I think I’m ready to find out,” I said, meeting his gaze head-on.

Madison sighed. “Bradley, I’m sorry. I brought you here wanting to continue the magic of the day, and I screwed it all up.”

I shook my head. “You didn’t.”

The tension between us crackled like a live wire, and for a moment, neither of us moved. Then Madison closed the distance between us, his hands hesitating just inches from my face before he cupped my jaw and tilted my head up toward him. His touch was warm and steady, but I could feel the tremor in his fingers.

When his lips finally met mine, it was like the world melted away. The kiss wasn’t rushed or frantic; it was deliberate, a slow claiming that left no room for doubt. His thumb brushed against my cheek as he deepened the kiss, and I let myself fall into it completely. Into him.

When we finally pulled apart, his forehead rested against mine, his breath warm on my lips. “Bradley,” he whispered, his voice raw, “I want this. I want you. But I’m scared.”

I reached up, my hand covering his where it still cradled my face. “Me too,” I admitted. “But maybe we can figure it out together.”

His lips curved into a small, tentative smile, and he nodded. “Together.”

In that moment, it didn’t matter how complicated things would get. It didn’t matter that the world outside this room would try to pull us apart. All that mattered was that Madison wanted to try, and so did I.