Take a Chance on Me

Chapter Six



“What’s next, Princess?” Mitch asked, as silence descended over the kitchen.

Tension coiled in Maddie’s belly. With Gracie gone, she didn’t have anything to distract her from the current situation.

She picked up a napkin and dropped it primly in her lap. The list of problems waiting to be tackled grew in her mind, threatening to overtake her. She twisted the thin white paper around her finger. She didn’t know “what’s next.”

What if she failed? Fell flat on her face? It would prove to everyone how incapable she was of taking care of herself.

No. Stop.

She would not give up. She straightened her shoulders. “I don’t know, but I’m going to figure it out.”

Amber eyes darkened. “Let me guess, you don’t want any of my help.”

The “No” hovered on her lips, but she pushed it back. She peered over his broad shoulder to study the blue and rose flower-patterned wallpaper and white cabinets, so distressed from age that they were once again in style. “You’ve already helped me. More than I can ever repay.”

“Maddie,” he said, his tone taking on the decided cadence of an exasperated male. “I gave you a place to sleep. It was nothing.”

“Easy for you to say when you’re the one with food and shelter.”

“True,” he said, scrubbing his hand over his jaw. “But if the situation was reversed, wouldn’t you have done the same?”

She looked away from the cabinets at the man causing her distress on an entirely different level from her base survival. The black T-shirt stretched over his broad chest and muscled biceps. That tribal tattoo scrolled, curling down his arm like the snake in the Garden of Eden, tempting her with lust and danger. The image of him sitting around the kitchen table in the brick bungalow she shared with her mother was so preposterous that she laughed. “God no, I live with my mom.”

A slow grin slid over his lips and some of the tension filling the room eased. “Really, now?”

Most twenty-eight-year-olds in this day and age lived in their own condos in Chicago’s trendy neighborhoods. She would have, too—she’d saved every cent of the money she’d made as her brother’s office manager to do just that. She’d even found the perfect place, but then Steve proposed.

Desperate to live on her own, she’d insisted on still getting the place, but everyone kept telling her how impractical it was to buy. How much more sense it made to save for another year and buy a house when they were married. She’d listened to lectures on the state of Chicago real estate, mortgage rates, and how the condo was too small and the plumbing was subpar. Finally, sick of the whole ordeal, she’d ripped up the check for five percent of the down payment.


Why did she always give in? Her hand trembled and she clutched the napkin tighter. She knew why. Guilt, pure and simple.

She’d been living with it for so long that she didn’t know how to live without it. It sat like a lump of coal in her belly, making her shoulders ache and knotting the muscles in her back.

Realizing Mitch was watching her, she shrugged. “It’s not that uncommon in my neighborhood.”

“And where’s your neighborhood?” A small smile softened the hard line of his jaw. He held up a hand. “Wait. Let me guess. . . . You’re a South Sider, aren’t you?”

The dispute between Chicago’s working-class South Side and the more affluent North Side was notorious and passion-filled among locals. And Mitch Riley—tattoo and ramshackle dive bar excluded—had “North Sider” written all over him. She wrinkled her nose. “And you’re probably some frat-boy, white-bread, North Sider?”

A flash of that sinful, got-to-love-me grin. “Guilty.”

She rolled her eyes. “You probably grew up someplace really ostentatious and obnoxious.”

“Winnetka, if you must know,” he said, naming one of Chicago’s wealthiest suburbs.

“Ha!” She jabbed a finger at him, her stomach easing again. “I was right.”

His gaze glimmered with warmth and something else. Something that made her nervous. Excited. His attention shifted to her lips, and the mood shifted right along with it. Heat infused her cheeks as he studied her mouth as though he had wicked plans.

Plans that might include things a good Catholic girl wasn’t supposed to think about.

“Back to the situation at hand, South Side girl.” His low voice, laced with the rumble of seduction, raised the fine hairs along the nape of her neck.

“What’s that?” Her tone was breathless, filled with anticipation. She snapped straight in her chair. What was wrong with her? Sister Margaret would be so disappointed. She cleared her throat. “Oh right, my current predicament.”

“Yeah, that.” He stretched in his chair and laced his fingers over his stomach, the picture of a man who thought he had a woman right where he wanted her. “I think you want my help, and I want to help you. Why deny us? Let me.” The gleam in his eyes bordered on smug.

He thought he was slick, didn’t he? She sat back in her own chair, mirroring his oh-so-relaxed posture.

It was true. If she didn’t want to crawl home with her tail between her legs, she needed his help. There’d be no way around that.

She weighed her options and pictured calling her oldest brother. Once Shane was involved, he’d take care of everything. As honorary head of household, he considered it his duty. She wouldn’t have to lift a finger. Her car would be towed, he’d pay for the repairs, and she’d be sitting in the kitchen surrounded by her family, trying to explain her actions, by dinnertime. Steve would probably be there, too. Her temples started to pound again as she thought of them talking her to death. It would be her engagement all over again.

Steve had known she wasn’t ready to get married. She’d told him. In fact, it had been one of the few discussions in which he hadn’t been able to bend her with logical arguments that made her feel like an idiot. In her mind, she’d had the best reason. She hadn’t been ready.

But that hadn’t mattered. He’d made sure she couldn’t say no.

He’d proposed in front of her entire family at her great aunt and uncle’s sixtieth wedding anniversary. In all of the chaos and congratulations, no one had noticed she hadn’t said yes. Then her mom had looked at her, tears of joy shining in her blue eyes, and Maddie hadn’t been able to break her heart. Not again.

She pulled her thoughts away from the past to find Mitch Riley watching her with an intense look of concentration at odds with the easy posture. She had no doubt that he was a man used to getting his way, especially where women were concerned. And for whatever reason, right now, he wanted her.

She tilted her head, and her ponytail swung, the heavy weight pulling at the last remnants of her hangover. “Why?” She didn’t elaborate, because she wasn’t really quite sure what she was asking.

Amber eyes flashed, but didn’t waver. “I don’t know why. All I know is when I look at you I don’t want you to go.”

It was the best answer, the safe answer.

What woman wouldn’t want to hear those words from a man like him? Two days ago, it would have satisfied her. But two days ago, she hadn’t climbed out the church window. “As soon as my car’s fixed, I’m going back to Chicago.” It was a statement. A promise.

The laziness slid off him as he sat forward and placed his elbows on the table, nodding slowly.

“It makes sense to leave now,” she said. Another statement of the obvious.

A razor-sharp cut of a glance. “Sometimes you just have to f*ck common sense and go with your gut.”

Her heartbeat kicking up a notch, she shifted in her chair. “I shouldn’t.”

“No, you shouldn’t.” The low, heated rumble of his voice made her breathless. “But you’re going to anyway.”

The words were delivered as fact without even a hint of entreaty. So why didn’t she feel coerced? Spine straight, she stuck out her chin. “If I stay, I insist on doing things my way.”

He scrubbed a hand over his jaw, studying her with a pensive look. Probably wondering what he could get away with. “I have some conditions.”

“You’re not in a place to negotiate,” she said, her tone taking on a slightly haughty edge that held no real ice.

“Neither are you, Princess,” he said, his voice laced with the first traces of genuine amusement.

The tension, coiled tight between them since Gracie had left, loosened, lightening both the air and their mood.

A hint of a smile teased her lips. “I have something you want.” As soon as the words were out, she caught the underlying implication. Cheeks heating, she pressed her lips together, refusing to snatch them back.

He laughed. The sinful, decadent sound had goose bumps breaking out along her skin. “And I’ve got something you need.”

Out of her depth with the game she was playing, she said lightly, “I guess we’re at each other’s mercy.”

“I guess so.” His attention once again drifted to her mouth. “What do you want to do first?”

The triumphant gleam in his golden gaze made nerves dance in her belly. What was she getting into? Something dangerous. Something exciting. Something that had been missing for a long time: mischief. He reminded her of the wild, reckless girl she use to be, and it was addictive.

He watched her expectantly, and she realized he was waiting for her to speak.

“I called my girlfriends,” she said mildly, watching his reaction closely. “I’ll owe you for long distance.”

His expression flickered, then shuttered closed. “Long distance is included in my package. What did they say?”

She shrugged one shoulder. “They offered to wire me money.”

“And?” The word held no inflection.

“I said no.”

His shoulders dropped a fraction of an inch. “Why?”

She bit the inside of her cheek, thinking carefully about her response and then opting for honesty. “I don’t want anyone to know where I am. And I’m tired of taking the easy way out.”


“Good.” That one single word was filled with a thousand currents of electricity. “What’s next?”

Her path finally becoming clear, she straightened. “You can start by taking me to my car.”





“Here’s another one!”

Mitch shook his head, grinning like a fool as Maddie held up another quarter from between the seats of her little red Honda.

Someone would think she’d found buried treasure with every discovery of spare change. He took the coin and dropped it into the plastic bag she’d brought along. So far, she’d unearthed a couple of dollars, some spare change, her favorite lip gloss, and a stainless-steel travel coffee mug as she rifled through the automobile with impressive thoroughness.

With her ass swaying high in the air, she climbed onto the driver’s seat and dove down to scour under the passenger’s side with a flashlight. He groaned as she wiggled, her heart-shaped rear taunting him. He’d been hard more in the past fifteen hours than he’d been in the past month, and she was driving him crazy.

With her innocence, those hints of sass, her flaming hair, and her flashing eyes, she was irresistible. The longer he stood in the parking lot of Tommy’s closed garage with the hot midmorning sun beating on his back and watched her contort her tiny body into all sorts of interesting positions, the more he wanted her. He had to force himself to not grab her, strip her naked, and have his way with her.

The thing that really killed him was that he could. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t touched her. Some things a man just knew. Attraction burned a hot, almost a palpable thing between them.

Time was limited, but still, he ignored temptation.

He wiped a bead of sweat from his temple, wondering if the change in his previous MO where women were concerned should worry him.

One smooth leg flexed as she stretched another inch and whooped excitedly. “I found a sawbuck!”

F*ck it. How much damage could a couple of days cause?

She whipped around, sending her ponytail flying as she waved the ten-dollar bill. Cheeks flushed with the thrill of discovery, eyes gleaming like sparkling emeralds, she giggled. “My dad used to call it that.”

One brow rising, he stared at the bill. A trickle of unease dimmed some of his enjoyment over watching her squirm. He mentally tallied her available funds before breathing a sigh of relief. Still not enough for even the cheapest, seediest hotel.

He peered in the car. It looked as though a tornado had blown through it. How much more money could she find? She’d already combed through the backseat, so he should be safe.

He had no idea why her staying under his roof had become vitally important, but it had. He wasn’t going to think about how much she made him sweat. He’d just enjoy how she made him laugh and how his pulse kicked up when he looked at her, and remember what it felt like to be alive instead of numb.

He plucked the bill from her fingers and dropped it into the bag. “Oh, what did your dad say looking at this mess of a car?”

Her expression clouded over with the suddenness of a summer storm. She blinked, hands clasping in her lap. “Nothing. He died.”

Ah, f*ck. He took a step closer and kneeled down. He brushed a finger over her cheek. “I’m sorry, Maddie.”

More rapid blinking, as if she was suppressing unshed tears. “It’s okay. It was a long time ago.” She shrugged one small shoulder, her lower lip quivering the tiniest bit. “I keep thinking about him. This morning . . .” She paused, and the delicate muscles in her neck worked as she swallowed. “The Swedish flop reminded me of him. He used to get one every Sunday morning.”

That explained the trip to the bathroom. He stroked a thumb over her jaw, aching to kiss away her grief. “I’m sorry.”

Bright eyes, an impossible shade of green, met his. “It was an accident.”

At a loss for what to say, he curved his hand around her neck, working his fingers gently over the tight muscles there. “That must have been terrible for you.”

She nodded. Her attention shifted, dropping to his mouth. Her pink tongue snuck out and licked at her bottom lip before retreating.

He bit back a groan at the illicit images assaulting him.

Jesus. Here she was talking about her dead father and all he could think about was defiling her. He pushed the impure thoughts away. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

She shook her head. “I should get back to work.”

He dropped his hand from her neck, refusing to think about how much he liked the feel of her skin under his palm. “Are you sure I can’t help you look?”

“I want to do it myself,” she said, her voice still thick with emotion.

“All right, Princess.” He straightened and crossed his arms. He wanted her to forget: forget about her family and what she’d left behind. He wanted her sass, not her sorrow.

And he wasn’t above baiting her to get it.

He fixed a stern expression on his face and jutted a chin at the car. “Get busy, little girl. As much as I’d love to clean out this garbage pit of a car, I don’t have a Dumpster available. Trash bags alone won’t get the job done.”

She shot up, planting her hands on her hips. “What did you say?”

Yes, there it was: the fire she hid under those layers of Catholic guilt. He cocked a brow. “What’s your objection? That I called you little girl, or messy?”

She threw her shoulders back, thrusting out breasts that were almost lost in Gracie’s too-big T-shirt. “Both!”

“I call it like I see it.” He shrugged a shoulder. “What are you going to do about it?”

Her mouth fell open, and her eyes flashed all sorts of interesting variations of green. She stepped forward and poked him in the center of his chest. “You . . . you . . . ,” she sputtered.

He leaned in close, sucking in the scent of lavender, breathing in her hint of wildness. Jesus, he wanted her. He needed every ounce of control to not take her mouth in a hard, brutal f*ck-you-where-you-stand kiss. Instead he whispered, “You what?”

With another hard jab of her sharp, white-tipped nail, she stomped a foot, temper riled. “You, you jerk!”

“Come on, you can do better than that, can’t you?” He paused, waiting one delicious beat that made her lean in closer. “Little girl?”

“You arrogant, egotistical . . .” With a strangled scream, she hauled back and punched him in the chest, hard enough that some of the air in his lungs whooshed out.

Before she could strike again, he snagged her wrist, caught her around the waist with his free hand, and pulled her close. Her cheeks were flushed a pretty pink. Body rigid, she met his gaze with fiery defiance.

He searched her face and found what he was looking for under her righteous, indignant temper: excitement. Hunger.

He tightened his hold, pressing along her spine to force her the last couple of inches she needed to be flush against him. He needed one taste of that mouth.

But before he could give in to the impulse that was riding him hard, a police cruiser pulled into the parking lot and flashed its lights.

“Ah, f*ck.” He dropped his hold. Impeccable timing. He’d kill the bastard.

“Are we not supposed to be here?” Maddie asked, her tone a bit breathless.

The black-and-white pulled to a stop and the door swung open. Next to him, Maddie cleared her throat and smoothed down her rumpled clothes.

“It’s fine. He’s just an a*shole,” Mitch said wryly.


Charlie Radcliff stepped from his vehicle, looking the cliché of a small-town cop, complete with mirrored sunglasses.

“He looks . . .” Maddie shifted closer to Mitch’s side. “Imposing.”

He supposed that was one way to say it. Decked out in a tan uniform, Charlie strolled toward them, flashing a cocky-ass grin when he stopped in front of them.

“I just happened by,” he said, in the slow drawl of his that hinted at Southern roots. “Is there a problem, ma’am?”

Mitch slanted a glance in her direction. She stood military straight, vehemently shaking her head. “Everything’s fine, Officer.”

“Sheriff. You sure about that?” Charlie said, sounding like a complete hard-ass. “Looked to me like you were being accosted.”

“N-no—”

Mitch cut her off. “Would you get the hell out of here?”

“Mitch,” Maddie said, with a low hiss.

Evidently in a devious mood, Charlie stalked forward, placing a hand menacingly over his baton. “What did you say?”

“F*ck. Off.” Mitch fired each word like a bullet.

“Mitch, please,” Maddie said, tone pleading.

“Do I have to take you in?” Charlie’s attention shifted in Maddie’s direction and his mouth twisted into a smile that Mitch had seen him use on hundreds of women during their fifteen-year friendship. “I’ll be happy to look after her for you, Mitch.”

A stab of something suspiciously close to possessiveness jabbed at his rib cage. Mitch shot Charlie a droll glare. “Over my dead body.”

One black brow rose over his sunglasses. “That can be arranged.”

“Please, don’t take him to jail,” Maddie said, sounding alarmed.

Both Charlie’s and Mitch’s attention snapped to her.

“Now, why would you be thinking that?” Charlie asked, in an amused voice.

Maddie’s gaze darted back and forth. “He threatened you.”

Mitch laughed and Charlie scoffed. “Honey, he’s nothing but a pesky little fly I’d have to bat away.”

Comprehension dawned and her worried expression cleared. “Oh, I see. You know, you should tell someone this is some macho-guy act before you get rolling.”

“And what fun would that be?” Charlie rocked back on his heels. Even with his eyes hidden behind the mirrored frames, it was damn clear he was scoping Maddie out from head to toe. Under his scrutiny, she started to fidget. She pressed closer to Mitch, almost as if by instinct, pleasing him immensely.

“Don’t mind him, Princess.” He slid his arm around her waist, pulling her tighter against him. “He likes to abuse his power over unsuspecting women.”

“Um,” Maddie said, fitting under the crook his arm as though she were made for him, which was odd considering he towered over her by a foot. “I bet it’s quite effective.”

Charlie laughed. “Maddie Donovan, you’re everything I’ve heard and then some.”

Maddie stiffened, pulling out of Mitch’s embrace and cocking her head to the side. “How do you know my name?”

“Honey,” Charlie drawled, the endearment scraping a dull blade over Mitch’s nerves. “This is a small town. People don’t have anything else to do but talk. Give me time and I’ll know your whole life story.”

That strawberry-stained mouth pulled into a frown, and two little lines formed between auburn brows. She studied the cracked concrete at her feet. Suddenly, she looked up, her cheeks flushing when she realized they were watching her. She smiled brightly. “Oh well, I guess this is what I get for making an entrance.”

Charlie chuckled, shifting his attention to Mitch. “I like her. Are you bringing her tonight?”

Mitch nodded. “That was the idea.”

Maddie glanced at him, shielding her eyes against the sun. “Tonight?”

“Sunday night is one of the few times none of us work,” Mitch explained. “Sam, Gracie, Charlie, and I usually get together and have dinner. I’d planned on mentioning it at some point.”

“That sounds fun.” She gestured at her car. “I should keep looking.”

Charlie bent and peered into her car, smiling. “I can see you’re one of those tidy women who likes everything in its place.”

Maddie’s chin tilted with that defiant little lift. “If you must know, I actually am. My car is one of the few places I throw caution to the wind.”

Mitch studied her. Somehow, he didn’t quite believe that. He thought that the real Maddie was represented in that mess of a car. Hell, he should know: she’d managed to blow through his life like a tornado in less than twenty-four hours. But unlike her, he welcomed the chaos. After three years of mind-numbing monotony, it felt good to use his brain again and even better to feel the kick of excitement, the rush of challenge she presented.

“I see,” Charlie said, resting his elbow on the top of her car. “Is there anything I can help you with?”

Maddie shook her head. “Nope, just looking for money.”

Charlie stepped back and walked up to Mitch while Maddie climbed into the driver’s seat on her hands and knees, oblivious to the taunting view her ass presented.

Mitch said, in a dry tone, “Thanks a lot, a*shole. I’d almost had her relaxed before you showed up.”

“Is that what you were doing?” Charlie asked in a slow, amused drawl. “Relaxing her?”

“I was working on it.”

“That’s not all you were working on,” Charlie said. “What’s the plan?”

“At this point, I’m winging it.”

Maddie’s calf flexed as she contorted herself in an impossible position and she disappeared into the well of the passenger’s seat.

“And to think,” Charlie said, “if she’d have stayed in her car, I would have been the one coming to her rescue.”

“F*ck off,” Mitch said in his mildest voice, ignoring the kick of possession thumping insistently against his chest. He’d known Charlie since they were teenagers. Charlie knew all the right buttons to push and was looking for a reaction.

Mitch wouldn’t be giving him one.

Besides, even if Charlie had found Maddie first, it wouldn’t have mattered. Charlie had been sleeping with Gracie for over a year, and while they were more friends with benefits than lovers, it had been a while since either one of them had gone looking elsewhere.

Maddie’s body twisted and she emerged from the car. A beam of sun caught the thick tumble of waves in her ponytail, highlighting a million different strands of red. Hair that beautiful could only have been a blessing from God. Her lips tugged down. “I couldn’t find anything else.”

“I’m sorry,” Mitch said, not sorry at all. The certainty that she needed to stay had only grown since last night, and the less money she had, the better. The trick was to make sure she had enough that she didn’t worry about taking advantage, but not so much that she could go anywhere. Like a motel.

“Did you look in your trunk?” Charlie asked, ever so f*cking helpful.

Mitch shot him a glare, but the bastard just gave him a smug smile.

“Duh,” Maddie said, banging the heel of her palm on the side of her head. “Most of the mess is in the car, so I didn’t even think to look.” She reached inside the car and pressed a button. The trunk popped open. She trotted over and flung it the rest of the way.


With a loud gasp, Maddie’s hand flew to her chest.

Mitch’s gut tightened. Why did he have a bad feeling?

She pulled out a gym bag and jumped up and down in the excited way women had. “I’d forgotten I’d left it in there. I remember now: my hands were full and I couldn’t carry it.”

Mitch crossed his arms over his chest, his eyes narrowed on the gym bag.

“It won’t be much, but at least I’ll have some clothes!” She dropped it to the ground and crouched next to it. The zipper seemed to echo in his head as she opened the damned thing and started to rifle through the contents.

The duffel contained workout clothes, a towel, running shoes, and a variety of other female items. She clutched a bottle to her chest and hugged it tight, beaming at him with a smile so bright his breath caught. “My shampoo.” Another bottle clutched tight. “My perfume.”

The contents should have eased his mind, but didn’t.

“Oh my God, makeup.” She held a bag and raised her gaze to the heavens. The sunlight caught her ivory skin so she fairly glowed. “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!”

Charlie chuckled. “She is a cute little thing, isn’t she?”

The knot in Mitch’s stomach grew, and he realized he had ground his teeth so tight that his jaw was starting to ache. With considerable effort, he forced his muscles to relax. He was safe. She hadn’t found anything that would send her away.

She opened a side pocket and squealed with delight as she unearthed toothpaste and a toothbrush. In a split instant, all of her frantic motion stopped as she froze. Her eyes widened, and a huge smile split her face. “I can’t believe it. Going to the gym to work out my frustration finally paid off.”

She slipped her hand into the side pocket and pulled out a shiny silver credit card.

Ah, f*ck.