Page 10 of Moonlight With Maddox (Mountain Men Fall Harder #6)
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I pack two bottles of water into the canvas tote, next to the sandwiches I made for Maddox and I to eat later.
“You’ve been smiling like that since you got up this morning,” Aunt Connie says from her seat at the kitchen table, sling cradling her arm as she nurses a mug of hot tea. “A dreamy, lovesick kind of smile, too.”
Pretending I don’t hear her, I toss a bag of trail mix into the bag with everything else. “Are you sure you’ll be okay while I’m gone? More tea? A blanket from the linen closet in case you get cold?”
“Nice attempt to distract me,” she chuckles, setting her mug down with a clink on the table. “My arm is broken, not my brain. I can take care of myself. Now are you going to tell me why you are glowing like that?”
“I don’t know what you are talking about.” I shrug. “I’m not glowing.”
“Don’t think I didn’t notice how long Maddox’s truck was parked when he dropped you off last night. And now you are going out again today.”
“The pain meds they have you on must be pretty strong to have you making up such fiction.” I pull the tote onto my shoulder and grab my camera case off the counter.
“I’m just excited about the photos I got last night.
Besides, he’s just taking me up to Lookout Point to get a shot of the town. It’s not a date.”
“Right, it’s all about the photos.”
Before she can needle me further, the sound of Maddox’s truck pulling up outside gives me the perfect excuse to excuse myself from this interrogation.
“I’ll be back later,” I tell her as I push out the screen door.
“It’s most definitely a date,” she calls after me.
Maddox climbs out of his truck when he sees me come out the door. Despite my poor attempt to shake off Aunt Connie’s line of questioning, I most definitely think this is a date. After last night’s kiss, what else would this be?
But the moment I see the closed off look on Maddox’s face, doubt hits me like a punch to the gut. There’s no easy half-smile, no warmth in his eyes like there was last night. Did I just imagine everything?
“Hey,” I say, excitement warring with confusion at this sudden turn of events.
Maddox takes the tote and my camera bag from me and puts it onto the seat in the truck. “Are you ready to go?”
“Yeah,” I say, searching his expression for any sign of what could have possibly changed between last night and right now. “Is everything okay?”
“Everything is fine,” he answers in a gruff tone. “We should get going if you want the right light at sunset.”
I climb into the truck, pulling my camera bag onto my lap and brushing my fingers across the leather for comfort. Maddox shuts the door with more force than necessary behind me.
When he gets into the driver’s seat, the cab feels suddenly smaller than it did yesterday, filled with the quiet weight of whatever he isn’t saying.
I stare out the window, as he starts the engine and heads toward the mountain road that leads to Lookout Point.
The road winds up through the mountain, as the sun starts to dip lower in the sky. I sneak a look at Maddox as he drives, jaw clenched tight, and his eyes fixed on the road ahead.
This is not the man who kissed me on the porch last night. That man’s touch had been warm and gentle. This one, looks like he’s carrying something heavy on his shoulders.
I trace my fingertips over my case again. “So, what’s the plan? Straight up to Lookout Point, or are we stopping anywhere along the way?”
“Straight up,” he says in a clipped tone. “If we time it right, you’ll have some extra time to set up and get the shot you need.”
I blink at him, still wanting some kind of answer to this complete one-eighty he’s done. It can’t be something I’ve done, I haven’t seen him since he dropped me off last night. Maybe something happened at work? Or maybe I imagined everything last night meant something.
“Did something happen today?” I ask. “You seem—different.”
His grip on the wheel tightens. “No, nothing happened today.”
The way he says today, makes it clear that something had to have happened last night after he dropped me off.
It stings more than I want to admit, that he doesn’t want to tell me, but then again, he doesn’t owe me anything.
I force myself to focus on the view out my window, reminding myself why I’m here—to help Aunt Connie and to get my assignment done.
I press my lips together and swallow the questions I want to ask.
The silence pushes an even wider divide between us in this cab.
Maybe I was foolish to start thinking about the possibility of staying in Maple Ridge, to finally slow down, and maybe even find someone, but that kind of happy ending just might not be in the cards for me.