Riley waited, both patient and silent, as Madison digested her words. “You’re saying maybe he has changed. And maybe it’s permanent.”
“I’m saying you won’t know unless you open yourself up to possibly being hurt again.” She shrugged.
“Why would I do that?” Madison asked.
“Because when you trust and it works out, the payoff is more than worth the potential pain.” Riley smiled and patted her still-flat but pregnant belly.
Madison shook her head, unable to fathom being hurt that way again. Sex? Yes, she was tempted to give in and sleep with Alex again, but trust him—or anyone—with her heart? Not happening.
But ready or not, she had to deal with the fact that she and Alex had unfinished business.
* * *
Madison tried to visit her foster mother at least once a week, and she stopped by not long after receiving the legal papers from Eric. Luckily, she and Eric kept very different schedules, and she rarely ran into him. This week’s visit hadn’t been an easy one. The live-in health care aide agreed it was time to move Franny into a nursing home. Someplace where she could be monitored constantly.
When lucid, Franny agreed and had already chosen the particular nursing home. They’d been waiting for an opening, and there was one now. Although Franny still had days where sometimes she would know where she was, more times than not, she lived in the past. Madison would begin a conversation only to have Franny pick up the thread, except she’d be talking to someone else. Someone from her childhood or early days of her marriage.
The illness was stealing the older woman piece by piece, and putting her in a home felt like the final stage of loss. On top of Madison’s foster dad’s death, Franny’s memory lapse was yet another blow. But moving her was the right thing to do. Of course, Eric was fighting that too, not wanting his mother to be locked up, in his words.
In this, Madison wanted to believe that Eric was looking at his mother as a son afraid to make the wrong choice. He feared she’d wake up and, in a rare lucid moment, be lost in her strange surroundings. Madison was more afraid she’d burn the house down one night while the aide was asleep or wander off when no one was looking.
A week after Madison had been served with legal papers, she met with the lawyer Alex had recommended. He’d made time for her right away, and she appreciated Alex using his connections to get her in.
Not long after she checked in with the receptionist, a tall, dark-haired man strode out into the lobby to greet her.
“Ms. Evans?”
She rose to greet the attorney. Jonathan Ridgeway, Esquire, was a good-looking man with warm eyes and a genuine smile. Madison immediately felt comfortable with him. She knew this whole ordeal wouldn’t be simple or easy, and she was glad this lawyer didn’t put her on edge.
“Hi,” she said, extending her hand, which he briefly took.
“It’s good to meet you, Ms. Evans. But I prefer to dispense with formalities. Is it okay if I call you Madison?” he asked.
She nodded. “Of course.”
“Then please call me Jon. Did you bring the papers?” he asked.
She dug the documents out of her purse and handed them to him. “I also brought the power of attorney and health care proxy. There are other copies filed with my foster mother’s lawyer.”
Jon accepted those as well and gestured for her to sit.
She eased herself into a chair across from his desk. She was nervous as she waited for him to read through her papers and shifted uncomfortably in her seat, taking in his diplomas and wildlife photographs around the room.
Someone knocked on the door, and the sound of it opening had Madison turning in her seat.
“Did I miss anything?” Alex asked, walking inside as if he were expected before shutting the door behind him.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, stunned to see him.
“Good morning, Angel.”
She shivered at the nickname, the sound rolling off the same lips she’d been recently kissed by. Ignoring the sexual tension at work was nearly impossible, and she felt it again now—the subtle tremors in her stomach and the overwhelming feeling of need she experienced whenever Alex was near.
He glanced at his friend. “Jon. Thanks for making time for us.”
“Alex? Why are you here?” she asked again.
The attorney rose to his feet. “Should I give you two some time alone?”
“Yes,” she said.
“No,” Alex countered before searing her with a determined look. “I said we’d handle this, remember? We. I’m here. I would have made it sooner, but I got caught in traffic.” He strode around her and settled into the chair beside her.
“Is there a problem?” Jon asked her.
Madison swallowed hard. “No, no problem.” She didn’t wish to make a scene, so she’d let him stay.
But if Alex thought just because he was paying for the lawyer that he had a right to be part of her personal business, she planned to set him straight later.
Jon refocused on the documents she’d given him, and Madison turned her attention to Alex. He still wore his hair on the long side, but on him, it worked. He sported a button-down shirt and jacket, filling out the material like it had been cut for his broad frame. Just last night, she’d dreamed of the tattoos beneath, covering his tanned skin.
Madison’s mouth grew dry. He’d shaved, and his smooth cheeks made her want to press her lips against his warm skin and breathe him in. She could already smell his cologne, and the scent did things to her that should be illegal during the day while she was fully dressed.
He met her gaze, caught her staring, and his lips turned up in a sexy grin.
Before she could react, Jon spoke, breaking the silence. “I take it you want to fight to hold on to the rights assigned to you?”
She forced her gaze to the lawyer and nodded. “It’s more complicated than it looks. My foster mother’s house is located on property that is surrounded by land owned by the town. It’s been in the family for generations and has been zoned in as a private residence, but with Franny—that’s my foster mother—suffering from Alzheimer’s, she specifically told me when she’s no longer able to make decisions, she wants to go into a home. And she wants to sell the house and have the land dedicated to the town so they can turn it into a rec center for needy kids.
“Why didn’t she handle this when she was capable?” Jon asked.
A logical question. “Because she was always busy with charity and other things, and she never got around to doing it while she was lucid. No attorney would say she’s in her right mind now and change her will. Apparently, Eric, my foster brother, has a deal in the works to sell the land the house is on to a corporation wants to turn it into an exclusive resort on the edge of town.”