Heart and Sole Page 12

  “Maybe we should rinse off first in the lake.” He glanced down at his shirt, encrusted with stains and remnants of pie. “So we don’t track this stuff through the house.”

  Maddie searched his face, her eyes asking a million questions. Maybe she was wondering if he remembered the last time they swam in that lake together. Yes, he did. They were seventeen, and they skinny dipped. Or if she was considering that kiss they’d just shared, that sticky, sugary, whipped-topping covered kiss that had burned its way right through his heart. It was one hell of a kiss. Maybe she was wondering if his intentions were honest, just to take a quick dunk and get all this pie off of them. Well, they were not, and she had every right to worry.

  They walked down to the dock and kicked off their flip-flops, bare feet slapping along the wooden slats. Maddie ran almost to the end but stopped short of jumping in. She stood looking off into the distance where the tents and booths set up at the park stood in full view. The faint din of fiddle music drifted across the lake.

  “What is it?” Nick asked.

  She faced him, her expression serious. “I owe you an apology.”

  “For what?”

  “Maybe I was wrong, pegging you as a cutthroat businessman. And I appreciate your support.”

  “I have a secret to tell you.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Don’t tell anyone, but I’m not really all that cutthroat.”

  “You’re not?”

  He flashed a grin. “No. The part of my job I really enjoy is helping nonprofits get off the ground and thrive.”

  “Nonprofits?”

  “I’ve done a lot of work with Children’s Hospital.”

  “So that’s why they chose you to be one of their bachelors.”

  “That and the fact that I’m cute.”

  “Don’t do that.” She shook her head as if to shake off the spell he was casting over her. Blood coursed through his veins hard and fast at the hope that he was affecting her, maybe as much as she was affecting him.

  “Don’t do what?” he asked innocently.

  “Don’t make me like you again.”

  “Oh, admit it. You like me. A lot.”

  “I totally didn’t say that.”

  He waggled a finger in front of her face and she leaned away. “It’s all over your face.”

  “What’s all over my face? Pie?”

  “Say it. Say you like me.”

  She crossed her arms. “I won’t.”

  “Stubborn woman.” He scooped her up and tossed her into the water, then dove in himself.

  Nick heard whooping and hollering and splashing, and half of it was coming from him. When was the last time he’d laughed like this? She’d made him laugh more in the past two days than he had all year.

  Nick swam up to Maddie and locked his arms around her. She uttered a surprised squeak. A dragonfly buzzed by, skimming the surface of the lake. The world went silent as they stood there, neck deep in the cool water, the hot sun warming their faces.

  Maddie’s laughter died. Her eyes were lighter blue than the water, closer in color to the summer sky than the lake, and they held flickers of challenge, of excitement, of worry. She always was a terrible liar, and now he realized why. Her eyes were so pure, so expressive. She wore all her feelings there.

  “I have something else to say,” he said. He ran a wet hand along her cheek, cradled her face in his hands.

  “What is it?” Her lashes were flecked with tiny water drops. He had an impulse to kiss each one of them away.

  Nick dropped his hands and stared at her. He sucked at words. He closed his eyes and tried to find the right ones, but when he opened them, he was still standing neck high in the lake and in trouble, and Maddie was waiting with those clear, guileless eyes.

  “You’re everything bright and light and kind. Everyone likes you. You belong to this town, and people will have confidence in you.”

  “So serious.” She playfully smoothed away the frown lines between his eyes. Her touch made him shudder. He was in deep trouble. “But thanks for the support.”

  “I still don’t have answers for our problems. But God help me, I can’t stay away.”

  Her eyes went wide. He didn’t know if he’d said the right thing. Hell, he just knew he didn’t want to ruin the moment.

  He wrapped one hand gently around the back of her neck, drawing her closer. “Maddie,” he said low and soft, stroking one final fleck of pie off her cheek. “Maddie, I—”

  He never got to finish the sentence. She grabbed him by the shoulders and leapt up, wrapping her legs around him and plastering her wet body against his. Her sweet lips locked with his and didn’t let go.

  They fit together just right, perfectly in tune as their kisses grew wetter and deeper. He plunged his tongue into her mouth, met hers, dove and possessed, and she was right with him all the way. Her hands pushed through his wet hair, clutched at his back, skimmed his shoulders. She pressed against him more and more urgently, and pushed her soft breasts up against his chest.

  His hands dove under her floating shirt and skimmed those breasts, tracing each precious sphere and lingering over her taut nipples until she trembled beneath his touch.

  He wanted to tell her this never felt so right, that having her back in his arms was like having that big crack in his heart sealed. For the first time in so long, he felt like a whole man again. But how could he? He had decisions to make, and either way, people would lose. He had the power to make or break both their families.

  She must have sensed his hesitation. “Nick.” Her voice was breathless, turned on. She reached up to caress his face as carefully as a rare piece of porcelain and looked lovingly and hungrily into his eyes. “Don’t think, okay?” Her small hands worked magic, smoothing over the stubble on his chin, his neck. “Just for a little while.”

  When was the last time he didn’t think? Was spontaneous?

  A year ago. That one night. And his world had been upside down ever since.

  His breath came in ragged heaves. The world dimmed, the lake and the sun and the fine summer day all distilled down to the fine taste of her, the feel of her soft, moist lips and the way her hands grazed his body underwater. When she grasped his cock, slowly traced its outline through his shorts, everything outside of them ceased to exist.

  “Madison.” He pushed a wet strand of hair off her face. “I want you. More than I’ve wanted anyone.”

  Suddenly the past was past, and he didn’t want to waste a single second more.

  “Nick.” It was the softest whisper said on a mere exhale, but hearing her say his name so tenderly drove him to distraction. Her hands rode up his back and settled tightly around his neck. He wanted to take her now, right in the water, without another thought.

  He reached between them to touch her flimsy little strip of lacy underwear. His fingers roamed underwater, slid between her silken curls. He wanted nothing but to bury himself deep inside her, right in the middle of this swampy lake with the high noon sun scorching down on them.

  He slipped his finger into her silken wetness. She jerked a little in surprise but clung to him tighter, her inner muscles clasping as a second finger joined the first. Through his shorts, he felt her hand tug on his rigid cock. “Nick, let me—”

  “Later. Just hold on,” he said, his thumb stroking the center of her heat. The look she gave him, trusting, honest, willing, struck him in the heart. Stroke after stroke, he knew what she needed to go over the edge, and gave it until she clutched at him, pushed her body against his hand, and arched her back as she let go with a cry and shook with pleasure in his arms.

  He covered her cry with kisses until her breathing finally slowed. She’d just slipped her hands under the waistband of his shorts when a sound cut through his haze of pleasure. Someone was calling Maddie’s name.

  He planted one last kiss on her forehead. “We’d better get back or we’ll be late for that party.”

  She took a few wobbly steps. “What par
ty?” she asked with a shaky laugh.

  He lifted her into his arms and carried her to shore. On the dock, they made an attempt at squeezing out their sopping clothes.

  “At least we got all the pie off,” Maddie said.

  They walked barefoot up the sloping lawn to the house, but as they got to the deck, Amelia stood, looking like an American flag in her red pants and crisp white blouse scattered with blue stars, tapping her red pumps impatiently on the deck.

  “There you are. It’s about time. The whole town is gossiping.”

  Nick hoped the gossip was about what happened before the lake, not in it. Not that they would have looked like much more than a few bright dots from the house, but he wouldn’t put anything past Amelia.

  Madison smoothed her wet hair from her face. Nick kept an arm lightly on her elbow. He wanted her to know he had her back, and he wasn’t going to allow a disgruntled old lady to dictate to him. He hoped Maddie would stand up to her too.

  Besides, they weren’t teenagers sneaking around. They were nearly thirty-year-old adults. Grandmeel would have to get over it.

  “I heard about the pie fiasco. I think you should know that despite your rather immature behavior, Ophelia Gorsky divested Ashby from the pie chairmanship and disqualified her pies from the competition. And she gave your mother the first-place ribbon.”

  “Oh, that’s wonderful. I’m so glad.”

  “You owe her a thank-you. She could have banned your mother from ever entering again after the ruckus you caused.”

  “I didn’t start it, Grandmeel.” Maddie stopped, as if finally realizing she didn’t have to explain herself to her grandmother.

  “It doesn’t matter who started it. The fact remains you created a stir. How on earth are you going to function as the head of our town’s largest business if you can’t gain the respect of the people?”

  “Grandmeel, I’m doing everything in my power to prove my loyalty to Kingston Shoes.”

  “I should remind you your loyalties are not to be found wrapped in the arms of a Holter, that’s for damn sure.” Amelia spun about and stalked to the house, her heels clickety-clacking along the deck.

  Madison’s face went white. She stood there, wet, clutching her stomach as if she’d just been punched.

  Nick tried to hold in his outrage. “Don’t let her do this to you. You were provoked in the worst way. Sometimes you have to fight back.”

  She crossed her arms, took a step away from him. “She’s right. If I head up the company, my behavior has to be above reproach. The townspeople are expecting something big from me. I’ve promised to save their jobs, their livelihood. Not get in cat fights with someone who lives to aggravate me.”

  “You’re too hard on yourself.”

  She creased her lips into a tight, unbelieving line. “Thank you for this afternoon.” She pecked him on the cheek before she headed to the house.

  When she got to the screen door, she turned. “I think it’s best if we stay away from each other. Our business interests are still at odds, and this is another layer of complication neither one of us needs.”

  “Maddie, no.”

  “I’ve got responsibilities, Nick. I’m sorry.”

  As the door closed behind her, Nick’s brain knew she was right, but his heart knew it was all wrong.

  He paced, carefully avoiding tiny toy cars and action figures, back and forth along the redwood-stained deck. Suddenly, he halted. The same shot of adrenaline that always pumped through his veins at the onset of a brilliant idea flooded through him. He could help Maddie, all right—by doing what he did best.

  He reached for his phone and realized he didn’t have it. One quick curse later, he ran into the kitchen, which was thankfully vacant. He found the house phone, and punched in his partner and best friend’s number.

  “This had better be urgent.” The irritated tones of a familiar Carolina accent rolled through the line.

  “Hello, Preston, I’m fine, thanks. How are you?”

  “It’s Saturday night, and unlike you, I’m planning to enjoy every moment of these last two months before I ship out to Afghanistan.” A distinctly female giggle permeated the background.

  “I’m back home in Buckleberry.”

  Dead silence. The sound of footsteps. “Did someone die?”

  “No, of course not. I’m here with Madison and her family for her grandmother’s birthday.”

  “I’ve only had two beers, but I think I’m hearing things.”

  “It’s a long story.”

  “Is Cat there? With the actuary?”

  It had taken him all of sixty seconds for him to mention Cat. “His name is Robert, and he’s her fiancé.”

  “We had drinks when he was crunching some numbers for that company we worked with in Chicago. All he talked about were his plans to trade pork bellies futures and how fast he can do the New York Times Sudoku every morning. I’ve never met someone so exacting and logical. It was like having a fucking conversation with Mr. Spock.”

  “Maybe she needs someone safe and predictable.” Unlike Preston, a West Point grad with a penchant for women and danger. Preston was every mother’s worst nightmare.

  “Maybe.” The line silenced except for a faint background of crackles. Nick had a feeling Preston wouldn’t pursue the topic further. “Why’d you call, anyway?”

  “I need to infuse some capital into one of our holdings.”

  He laid out the plan. Nick would give Maddie what she wanted most—success in running her company. Stability for her family. What that meant for his grandfather, he wasn’t sure.

  Or what it meant for them. Maddie had told him their getting together was a bad idea, but what if things were different? What if they weren’t at odds, and what if the barriers between them could be removed?

  Even as Nick hoped, he knew that Maddie needed a long-term kind of guy.

  He wasn’t that kind of guy, not even with her. Especially not with her. He wanted her badly, but he could not fall for her. He’d always sealed himself off from that danger, because someone was bound to get hurt—it was inevitable. And if he weren’t careful, in this case it might be him.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Adjusting her skirt and smoothing down her just-straightened hair that was already going bonkers in the humidity, Maddie knocked hard on the front door of Samuel Holter’s house. No answer.

  She rubbed her fingers over her kiss-swollen lips. Just thinking of the afternoon with Nick made her tremble a little. Those hot, incredible kisses she had no business wanting or taking. But oh, she did want them. And so she needed answers, answers that would free both of them from the prison of the past. Maybe Samuel Holter could provide them.

  Nick believed in her, even if her family didn’t. He’d said it again at the lake. Now it was time for her to believe in herself, and her first task was going to be getting to the bottom of this feud, once and for all.

  The tiny post-war house hadn’t changed a bit from the one time she’d seen it as a kid. Back then she’d been shocked by its size compared to the rambling colonial where she’d grown up. It seemed to underscore the long-reaching aftershocks of the rift between their families. But she’d never held that against Nick. If anything, he had felt a super-sensitiveness about it that had driven a wedge between them no matter how much she’d told him it didn’t matter.

  There was an old blue Chevy Malibu in the driveway, and the small side door to the garage was open, so she headed there. She passed bright red geraniums growing in blue ceramic pots and a big American flag that hung vertically from the porch. Hadn’t Nick’s granddad been a Vietnam vet?

  No one occupied the small, pristine garage. To her amazement, in addition to the usual rakes and brooms and tools tidily lined up on hooks, it held a magnificent workspace with an architect’s desk and a long table covered with drawings.

  Drawings of shoes.

  Maddie collapsed into a swivel chair, stunned. On the slanted surface of the desk, and filling a long tab
le beside it, were sketches, one after another, of high heels, flats, sexy, satiny pumps with bead and pearl embellishments, casual lace-up shoes and boots. Done in charcoal, pastel, watercolor. Design after design, each one unique and beautiful.

  An artist? Maddie scanned her memories. She knew Sam Holter used to manage three Happy Shoe stores, Kingston Shoes’ major regional competitor. But a shoe designer?

  A strange frizzle of a thrill pulsed through her, a discovery that seemed more a piece of an old puzzle than a new one, one that should have been put together long ago. She felt deep in her bones she was looking at something big and significant.

  Did Nick want his grandfather to be in charge of the business? It would be the ultimate revenge. The Holters would get the last laugh. After all those years, their justice would finally be served.

  Next to the drawings sat two shoes, half made, with a wedge heel and beautiful pale pink ribbons made to be tied at the ankle. Maddie touched the fine satin. Oh, they were beautiful, with the tiniest row of pearls running along the toe piece.

  Maybe they would fit her. She smoothed her hand along one beautifully shaped arch, appreciated the pale blush color, how the ribbons were threaded carefully through tiny jute loops. She slipped off one of her own shoes and slowly slid her foot into the gorgeous one.

  “May I help you, young lady?” a gruff voice said.

  Maddie dropped the shoe. Shame colored her face as she scrambled to stand. She felt like Goldilocks caught with porridge on her face. And here was the great big bear.

  She’d seen Sam Holter enough times in the past to know who he was, but even if she hadn’t, his resemblance to Nick was uncanny. He had Nick’s build, his carriage. Tall and strong, he was a good-looking man with silver hair and tanned skin. And an expression as formidable as Grandmeel’s. He was holding a garden trowel in one hand and a wilted geranium in the other.

  “The shoes,” she whispered. “They’re beautiful.”

  Thick brows deepened in a V between steely blue eyes. “You’re the Kingston girl.”

  Well, she wasn’t a girl anymore, but she was anxious to get on his good side, if he had one. So she let the slightly condescending comment slide.