Authors: Rita Herron
Reid harrumphed. "Don't start with all that feminist stuff."
"You should be happy I didn't get the Miata, that was my first choice."
Reid patted her shoulder. "Okay, sis, calm down, we'll talk about the car later—"
"No, we won't. The convertible is mine," Maddie stated firmly. "I'm keeping it, end of discussion." Reminding herself that her brothers, in their infinitely old-fashioned Southern-bred mentality, meant well, and that they would never accept the fact that she was a grown woman perfectly capable of taking care of herself, she lowered her voice.
"Listen guys, I know you saw the show, but I'm glad I broke it off with Jeff. Now let's have cake and coffee. I'm dying for some chocolate."
Reid's eyes filled with sympathy. "Uh-oh, she's resorted to chocolate."
"I love chocolate all the time," Maddie said emphatically.
"Look, Maddie, you don't have to pretend with us," Lance murmured. "We know you had to save face on camera, but you're talking to your big brothers now—"
Maddie silenced him with a quick shush. "Read my lips, brother dear. I'm glad my relationship with Jeff is over. I'm ready to move on. Now come on, I'm craving sugar." She forced a smile to placate them, but she knew her efforts were futile. They were certain she was devastated. They expected tears and drama.
She refused to give them either.
Reid pulled her into a bear hug. "We'll kill him for you," he whispered in a dark tone.
Lance widened his stance, his fighting face in place. "Just give us the word, sis, we'll go back and finish the job. He won't even know what hit him."
"What do you mean, you'll go back and finish the job?" Maddie folded her arms across her chest. "I thought you said they didn't hurt him, Chase."
Chase shrugged. "He was fine when I left."
So her brothers had gone back to see Jeff. "Tell me what happened, guys."
"Nothing really," Reid said, resorting to that stammering little-boy act she knew all too well.
"We simply had a little talk," Lance said. "Man to man."
Chase chuckled. "You mean man to wuss."
Maddie groaned. "You did hurt him."
"He'll heal," Reid said with a toothy grin.
"Besides," Lance added, "he can afford a plastic surgeon if the bone doesn't grow back straight."
A mosquito buzzed near Maddie's ear. She swatted at it, wishing she could swat her brothers away. "Please tell me you didn't break his nose. His mother will die—"
"We didn't break his nose," Lance said.
Reid wiggled his fingers. "But he jammed his little pinkie when he hit the pavement."
"Oh, my God, you're bullies!"
"We didn't touch him." Lance tried to look offended but failed miserably. "He was running so damn hard he tripped over his own feet."
The men broke into laughter and once again Maddie hissed. Except for the wuss comment, Chase remained suspiciously silent, a situation that struck her as odd and one she'd deal with sometime later. When she finished killing her brothers.
She squared her shoulders and walked toward them with her most menacing look. "I don't need your help or interference—"
Lance tweaked a strand of her hair in the same tender way he'd done when she was five. "Ahh, Maddie, come on, we're just trying to take care of you."
"Yeah, we promised Mama," Reid added in a rough whisper.
Did they have to go and mention her mother? Moisture immediately welled in Maddie's eyes as she contemplated how her mom would have reacted to today's events. Would she be disappointed in Maddie?
They both instantly noticed the tears and misunderstood the reason. Lance drew her into a hug again. "Shh, now, everything's going to be all right, sweetheart."
Maddie briefly allowed him to console her, but finally drew away, swiping at her eyes. "Reid, why don't you fix me some hot tea. I could use a cup. Would you mind?"
His rugged jaw relaxed slightly. "Sure. I'll be right back."
He hurried into her apartment, looking relieved to be assigned a task he could actually handle. She turned to Lance. He was the oldest of the three, the calmest, the wisest, the one who'd taken care of her and Reid when her parents had died. The one she worried about. The one she knew would be crushed if he learned about the argument her parents had had the night before they'd died.
Concern showed in the set of his jaw. "And you—maybe you could cut us all a slice of cake and make some coffee." She gestured toward the box on the table. "It's chocolate éclair."
He brushed his hand along her chin in that protective I'll-always-take-care-of-you way he had. "Whatever you want, Mad. You know I'm here for you."
Maddie nodded, blinking at the unwanted sting of tears that moistened her eyes. She didn't know whether to hit them both or hug them.
She should have killed them both and put them out of
her
misery, Maddie thought an hour later. Murder would have been easier than enduring their hovering. The boys polished off the éclair cake, gave her a pep talk that she did not need, and over a pot of coffee hinted that Jeff might change his mind and warm to the idea of marriage.
Yeah, with a little more of your intimidation tactics,
Maddie thought sourly. She didn't want warm, she wanted
hot.
Someone hot for her and hot over the idea of loving her for the rest of his life. Someone who wouldn't ask her to trade her independence for his own goals. Someone who'd like it when she took control, even in bed.
"Breaking up with Jeff is the best thing I've ever done. Now my life can be my own show; I'll star in it and I won't have Jeff telling me what to do." Maddie lay down her fork, determined to put a positive spin on the humiliating day. "I'm going to date around, explore the single life in Savannah. Maybe I'll get some friends together and we'll make a single women's pact like you guys made that dumb bachelor pact when you were twelve."
"That pact was a good thing," Lance said.
"Yeah, I like my life." Reid mumbled. "I don't have to worry about putting the toilet seat down, have the remote to myself, and a different woman every night."
Maddie laughed. "I'm going to call Sophie and see if she wants to go to Barebones tonight, and there's that drag bar where the Lady Chablis performs, I can't wait to see—"
"You are not going to Barebones," Lance said in a no-nonsense tone.
"Or to see the Lady Chablis," Reid said curtly.
Maddie bristled in spite of the fact that she'd intentionally named the most outrageous bars she could think of to taunt her brothers. "Why not? I'm of legal age, and almost everyone in Savannah has seen—"
"You're a woman, and you're not going," Lance said as if that explained everything.
Reid stood, wincing when his head hit the bottom of a hanging fern pot. "Women like you are meant for places like the Tea House. In a bar, you're prime targets for... for—"
"Sexist bachelors like yourselves?" Maddie asked sweetly.
Chase halted the movement of the swing, threw his head back and laughed, cutting off Lance's reply. "Guys, I think Maddie's pulling your leg here."
Maddie shot him a wicked look. "Who says? I missed out on a lot of things dawdling around with Jeff. I'm going to have some fun now."
Lance and Reid groaned. Chase's dark eyes turned blacker than the night. "Then call one of us, and we'll take you, shortstop."
Maddie pointed her fork at them. "Right. Every guy in the place would be all over me, asking me to dance with the three of you hovering around like mother hens."
"We are not mother hens," Reid mumbled. "We're just more experienced."
"And you don't need guys all over you," Lance growled.
"Oh, pull... eeease," Maddie moaned. "The only difference between men and women is that you have a—"
"Don't say it, Mad," Lance warned.
"A Y chromosome." Maddie smiled smugly. "Now, let's change the subject."
Lance and Reid quickly shouted, "Here-here."
Chase didn't voice an opinion. In fact, he remained suspiciously silent again, merely giving Maddie another one of those dark, unreadable looks that made her wonder if her black thong underwear was visible beneath the sheer white dress. She crossed her legs and watched Chase's eyes momentarily rivet to her calf where the slitted skirt parted, then fall back to his scuffed-up boots. So, he didn't think she was twelve anymore.
Pleased with herself, Maddie flicked a strand of hair over her shoulder, aware the bare back of the dress caught Chase's attention as she leaned forward.
Pretending she didn't notice his disapproving look, she continued, "So, how's the new development going?"
Her brothers instantly straightened, both talking at once to fill her in on the houses they'd contracted for restoration and their plans for Skidaway Island.
"Man oh man, the island venture is a great opportunity," Reid said. "Two hundred houses, golf course community, a swimming pool and tennis courts; if things go like we've planned, our company will take off."
"We're going to be included in the Tour of Homes Savannah's hosting for the Reinhardt Foundation," Lance added.
Reid grinned. "With Chase coming on board to design some of the custom projects, The Terrible Three can't possibly fail."
"Think we should advertise that nickname on our business cards?" Lance joked.
Maddie rocked back in the porch swing, a plan taking shape in her mind. "Hey, you guys are going to let me decorate the model homes for the tour, aren't you? "
Lance and Reid both hesitated, reaching for more coffee at the same time. Lance poured his first, dousing it with sugar. "I don't know, sis. You have a habit of jumping from one thing to another."
"Not this time, this time I'm serious."
"That's what you said about art school," Lance said. "Remember when you took that class to draw nudes."
"But you were too embarrassed to draw the men," Reid added. "So, you used your imagination—"
"And the body parts weren't proportioned quite right."
"I was only sixteen," Maddie said, her face flushing. "And I was drawing from memory. I can't help it that you guys were five when I last saw you naked."
"Yeah, but you didn't have to tell everyone we were your models. For God's sakes, we'd just been kids, streaking across the yard."
Maddie laughed. "Your male pride seems to have survived."
"Yeah, but still..." Reid began.
"What about that time you decided to join the peace corps?" Lance said.
"I really wanted to help people," Maddie said through clenched teeth.
"But you couldn't get past those spiders," Reid pointed out.
"Arachnophobia isn't that uncommon."
"Then you wanted to be a soap-opera star," Lance said.
"Just so you could play kissy-kissy to some punk who didn't even have chest hair."
Maddie groaned. "I know I made mistakes, guys, but I'm grown up now and I finished my degree this time. Please let me work on the project."
Her brothers traded skeptical looks.
"But you haven't gotten established yet," Reid argued, shaking creamer into his cup.
"Don't you need some set-up time before you take on a big project like ours?" Lance asked. "Maybe you should work as an apprentice for someone."
"You could get a job at the hardware store in town," Lance suggested.
"The mall has a furniture store," Reid said.
Chase rose, fumbled with the coffeepot, then poured himself a fresh cup of coffee, black. "You don't have your business license yet, do you, Maddie?"
Maddie's hand tightened around her tea cup. If she didn't know better, she'd think the men didn't want her to work with them. "I've already applied for my license, and I'm meeting with the bank next week to finalize the loan." She went on to describe her concept of the decorating van on wheels and how much overhead she'd save by using the mobile unit. In fact, getting the loan was almost a done deal, so she'd already ordered the van with her logo on it. It would be ready Monday. She didn't have to tell the boys that part though. "I know there are a couple of high-class design firms in town, guys, but they're going to be pricey, and they don't need your business, I do. I'll cut you a deal. Besides, this tour could be a great way for me to jump-start my business." Maddie took a quick breath, then continued, her excitement gaining momentum. "I already have themes in mind I could incorporate to give each home an individual look and to demonstrate my style."
Lance wiped a drop of perspiration from his cheek. "Most of the people shopping for houses out this way are pretty conservative, Maddie. You can't do anything flamboyant or too contemporary."
"Yeah, the historical society has to approve the restoration projects so none of that weird sponge painting like you have in your bathroom," Reid said.
"And no voodoo paraphernalia or feather headdresses like you hung on the walls in your bedroom," Lance said.
"The voodoo spell is copy of a famous legend," Maddie said. "And that headdress is a Mardi Gras mask I brought back from New Orleans."
"Still, we have to stick to code," Reid added forcefully.
"And you can't quit mid-job like you did on a couple of your other little projects," Lance said.
Maddie's jaw tightened. "I am a professional, guys. You don't have to worry. I know what I'm doing, and I'll finish the job, on time, too."
The boys exchanged uncertain looks, hem-hawed around in a hushed discussion, then finally, very reluctantly, agreed. Maddie jumped up and hugged both of them. "Thanks, you guys. Working with you will be wonderful. I won't let you down, I promise."
"Yeah, okay," Reid mumbled.
Lance scrubbed his hand along his neck. "You'll have to talk to Chase about some of the house designs, the unique features he's including."
Maddie hooked her arm through Chase's, trying to ignore the fact that he hadn't commented on their kiss before her brothers arrived. She must be rustier than she'd thought. "No, problem there. Chase and I will work well together, won't we, Chase?"
Chase's jaw tightened as his gaze roamed over her mouth, then trailed downward over the clinging dress, pausing briefly at the swell of her breasts, her hips, and finally down to her bare toes again where she noticed his eyes linger on her toe ring. Her sparkling red nail polish glittered beneath the light of the moon.