I didn’t want to move. Didn’t want to break whatever spell had been cast over this small apartment above Sullivan Hardware, where mismatched furniture somehow felt more welcoming than any five-star hotel I’d ever stayed in. Where the scent of cedar soap and coffee and something indefinably Maddox made me feel safer than I could remember feeling in years.
This was what I’d been missing in my life. Not just the sex—though Christ, that had been incredible—but this. The quietintimacy of shared space. The weight of another person’s arm around me, keeping me tethered to something real.
It had been seven days since the first time I’d shared this bed with him. Seven days since the night he’d invited me into his home and into his life.
In that time, we’d filmed four more dates for the project—including ice skating with Fannin (Maddox’s least favorite date), cookie making (Maya’s favorite), the barn dance at Nate’s place (my favorite because he’d been possessive as fuck), and Sullivan Hardware’s Holiday Open House just last night, where I’d been voluntold to play Santa for the kids in full beard and padding (which made it Maddox’s favorite).
Almost every night, we ended up together at his place or mine.
Maya was insufferably smug these days, but I’d overheard Maddox reminding her several times that this was only temporary.
Only temporary.
While the words were true—if I stuck to my original plan, I’d be leaving in just three days—the reminder had stung every time. With each passing day, I felt more and more at home in this quirky little town and with this warm, down-to-earth family.
Maddox stirred, his hand moving to brush across my cheek. “Morning, Santa,” he murmured, his voice rough with sleep.
I tilted my head to look at him. His dark hair was standing up at odd angles, and there was a crease from the pillow across his left cheek. He looked rumpled and warm and completely open. Not a wall in sight.
“Morning,” I whispered back, not wanting to break the spell of quiet that surrounded us.
He leaned down to press a soft kiss to the top of my head, and I felt myself melt into even more of a ridiculous puddle than I already was.
“Coffee?” he asked, shifting to sit up.
“Only if you promise not to judge my inability to function before I get it down.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it, city boy. This isn’t my first morning serving at the pleasure of Adrian Hayes’s caffeine addiction.”
Twenty minutes later, we were in his small kitchen, moving around each other with surprising ease. He handed me a mug that read “Duct Tape Saves Lives,” while he claimed one that said “I survived driving school. As the teacher.”
“Is that yours, or was it your parents’?” I asked, accepting the perfectly brewed coffee with gratitude.
“Mine. I will forever carry the scars from teaching my sister how to drive.” Maddox moved to the small stove, already reaching for eggs from the refrigerator. “We finally have some time for me to make you breakfast instead of grabbing something at the Pinecone.”
“You going to cook for me, Sullivan?”
“Only if you like eggs,” he said with a wink. “Fair warning: I’m about to show off.”
I leaned against the counter, content to watch him work. True to his word, he flipped the eggs with unnecessary flair, sending them spinning in the air before catching them perfectly in the pan.
“The man has hidden talents,” I accused, grinning into my coffee.
“Years of practice. Dad used to do the same thing every Sunday morning.” His smile softened at the memory. “Maya always insisted he was going to drop them on the floor eventually, but he never did.”
I moved to the toaster, determined to contribute something to our breakfast. “Well, prepare to be equally impressed by my toast-making skills.”
“This should be good,” Maddox said, not even trying to hide his amusement. “Do you remember what Chief Kincaid taught you last week about fire safety? Do you need me to pull up the footage?”
Five minutes later, the smoke alarm was going off, and I was staring at two pieces of what could generously be called charcoal.
“Nailed it,” I announced, waving a dish towel at the alarm until it stopped shrieking.
Maddox’s laughter filled the small kitchen. “You’re a disaster, Hayes.”
“A very sexy disaster,” I corrected, moving to wrap my arms around his waist from behind. “Besides, now you get to rescue me with your superior bread-toasting abilities.”
“My hero complex thanks you for the opportunity,” he said, leaning back against me.
