THREE
At the soundof the doorbell, Maddie glanced at the spare key she’d taken out earlier and left on the counter. The same one she’d removed from the drawer last week and then put away rather than give it to Keith. Considering how often he came by, it made sense for him to have a key. But now, like last week, Maddie wondered if she should hold off on giving it to him.
Some people viewed the exchange of house keys as a significant step in a relationship. And maybe it was. Her brother was the only person she’d ever given her house key to, but Spencer had been living with her. If she gave it to Keith, he might add it to his key ring without a second thought. Or he might assume she expected more of a commitment from him. Since, as far as she knew, he’d never even referred to her as his girlfriend, such an assumption might be disastrous for their relationship.
Figure it out later.
It wasn’t like the key could walk over and jump into Keith’s hand. And if she put it back in the drawer tomorrow morning, so what? Next week, it would still be there if she decided the time was right.
After putting the cover on the pan, she lowered the heat and wiped her hands on a towel before leaving the kitchen. Only her closest friends and family knew it, but she loved cooking. It didn’t matter if she was preparing chicken piccata for a sit-down meal with her family or whipping up some buffalo wings for a poker game with friends. Not only did the process relax her, but it also amazed her how she could take individual ingredients, sometimes ones that tasted disgusting alone, like raw onions, and combine them to make something delicious. Since work often made cooking anything fancier than pasta and store-bought meatballs impossible, she never passed up an opportunity when one popped up.
And Keith had dropped one in her lap Friday night. Or maybe his sister and her boyfriend deserved the credit. Whatever the case, Maddie had pointed out that dinner at her house might be more enjoyable for everyone. Brett Sherbrooke didn’t draw the same amount of attention as some of his cousins, but his presence in a restaurant wouldn’t go unnoticed, especially right now, since he was running for the United States Senate.
She’d started considering ideas for tonight’s meal while Keith gave Jen her address. Then earlier today, when Keith left to meet Connor at the gym, she’d gone grocery shopping and then made a pit stop at Sugar and Spice Bakery before coming home. The desserts from there were the next best thing to homemade, and not once had anything she purchased disappointed her.
Maddie’s eyes skipped past the bakery box Keith held and zeroed in on the flowers in his left hand when she opened the door.
Whatever the opposite of a green thumb was, she had it. No matter how hard Maddie tried, she killed every plant she brought home, regardless of whether she left it on a windowsill in the living room, in the kitchen, or in the backyard. But, despite her inability to keep anything in the plant kingdom alive, she liked flowers and house plants. Perhaps not as much as Alexandra, the only other female member of HRT, or Salty’s girlfriend, but once or twice a month, she picked up an arrangement while grocery shopping to brighten up her house. Especially in the winter, when the days seemed dreary even when the sun was out.
Except for the get-well-soon bouquet her sister-in-law had sent after Maddie had been injured while on an assignment, she couldn’t remember the last time someone gave her flowers. And Brittany had been the one behind the thoughtful gesture, not her brother, because Tucker never would've thought to send them.
“Did you miss me?” Keith’s lips curved into a sexy grin, the very one that attracted women to him much the way a flame attracted a moth. Herself included.
“You left? I didn’t even notice, but welcome back. It’s nice to see you.” Maddie pressed her lips together to keep from smiling as she patted his cheek.
“Only nice?” Keith asked, putting the flowers and the bakery box down on the table by the sofa. His hands now free, he settled one on her waist and cupped the back of her head with his other before claiming her lips. Slowly, his mouth moved over hers, each pass a little more intense than the one before it.
As if they had a mind of their own, her lips parted. When Keith’s tongue touched hers, heat spiraled through her body, and she had a good idea of how the pan on the stove felt.
The buzzing timer ended any thoughts of continuing their reunion in her bedroom. Reluctantly, she pulled back, because if she didn’t do it now, she wouldn’t be able to, and then dinner would be ruined. Takeout was great, but not what she wanted to serve to Keith’s sister and her boyfriend.
“Okay, it’s really nice to see you.” She patted his cheek a second time, then walked away before he distracted her again—something he excelled at even without touching her. Exactly how he managed it, she didn’t know.
Keith entered the kitchen right after her, carrying the flowers and a large bakery box. “Whatever you’re cooking, it smells amazing.”
“Chicken marsala with pasta and homemade bread rolls.”
She’d found the bread recipe on her favorite cooking website the only year she’d prepared Thanksgiving dinner for the family. Although a bit time-consuming because the dough needed to rise, it was a simple recipe and far better than any bread she found in the store. And before the rolls turned into hockey pucks, she pulled the baking pan out of the oven.
“I still need to make the Caprese salad. But that won’t take long.”
“Wow, you went all out tonight. You didn’t have to. It’s only my sister and Brett.”
“Next time, I’ll heat up some frozen pizzas and serve them with potato chips. Will that be better?”
“They’d be delicious compared to what Brett and I ate in the army.”
She was aware of how Keith and Brett had become friends. Still, she sometimes had trouble reconciling that a billionaire from one of the most prominent families in America and who appeared in photos with individuals like Jake and Trent Sherbrooke had served in the military.
Keith waited until she pulled her oven mitts off before holding out the floral arrangement. “I wasn’t sure what your favorite flowers were, so I asked the florist to put together something she’d like to get.”
Although the only logical explanation for why he’d arrived with them was that he’d bought them for her, surprise kept Maddie from immediately accepting the flowers.
“You don’t like them?” Disappointment laced his voice, and a subtle frown formed on his face.
A mixture of blue hydrangeas, cream roses, lilies, and a few other flowers she didn’t recognize, the arrangement was far nicer than the ones she usually purchased while grocery shopping. “They’re gorgeous. I just wasn’t expecting flowers from you.” They’d been honest with each other since the day they met; she saw no reason to stop now. “I never pictured you as a flower-giving type of person.”
“Usually I’m not, unless you count the ones I send my mom on Mother’s Day. Oh, and I guess I sent Bella some last year after she had her tonsils out.”