Chapter 29: Rival: Chapter 28

“Well, of course!”

My eyes popped open, hearing the snide voice, and I shot up in bed.

My mother stood at the open door of Madoc’s room with one hand on her hip, and the other arm bent at her side, displaying glittering diamonds on her fingers.

I was still dressed in my nightgown, and I blinked away the sleep, trying to take in her appearance.

I swallowed down an exhausted grin at her ridiculous outfit. She wore fitted black pants, a sleeveless black-and-white animal print blouse—I hated animal print—and a black fedora.

Really? A fedora?

Every time I saw her, she was trying to look younger and younger. Or more like an Italian heiress. I wasn’t sure.

“What are you doing here?” I was shocked at the gruffness in my tone. The episode last night with Madoc had worn me out, but I felt strong and alert—from the neck up, at least.

She smiled, her impeccable skin glowing in the morning sun that poured through the windows. “I live here, Fallon. You don’t. Remember?”

Looking to the other side of the bed, I noticed Madoc wasn’t there.

I narrowed my eyes on my mother as she walked to the foot of the bed. “Get out,” I ordered.

She grabbed Madoc’s T-shirt and started folding it. “Sleeping your way to the top, I see. I’m not surprised to find you back in his bed. Again.”

I threw off the covers and reached for my glasses on the nightstand but then stopped.

I didn’t need them to talk to her.

Dropping my hand, I stepped out of bed and lifted my chin. “If you don’t get out, I’ll remove you myself.”

It wasn’t a threat. I was looking for a reason to hit her.

“Jason’s expecting me.” She hooded her eyes, trying to look bored. “He’s on his way. Did you know that? The sordidness of you and Madoc together is the one thing my husband and I can agree on.”

I winced at the word “husband.” It was funny. I never thought of them as married. Maybe because they never looked like it.

She stepped up to me, rubbing her cold hands up and down my bare arms. “Jason has ways of influencing his son. You’d better warm up to that fact as soon as possible, Fallon. For your own sake. Madoc isn’t in this for the long haul.”

“Leave,” a deep voice startled us both.

My back straightened, and my eyes shot to the doorway where Madoc stood, glaring at my mother.

She’d turned as well at the sound of his deep command, and all of a sudden my arms and legs rushed with power. I felt stronger with him here.

Not that I relied on Madoc to fight my battles. It just felt good to not be alone.

“I am,” she assured, and I heard the smile in her voice. “Your father will be here soon, so get dressed. Both of you.”

She glanced between us and then walked toward the doorway as Madoc stepped in. His arms were crossed, and the muscles in his naked chest were flexed. Madoc wouldn’t hit a woman, but right now he looked like he wanted to.

My mother stopped in the doorway and looked back at us.

“Madoc, you’re going to be shipped back to Notre Dame. And, Fallon? You’ll be coming with me today. Back to Chicago. I have the Triumph Charity Event to plan, and you’re going back to school.”

I couldn’t help the laughter that sprang up. I pinched my eyebrows together in disbelief. “Are you from the planet Delusion? What makes you think you can tell me anything?”

“I’m taking you back to Chicago, and you’re not seeing Madoc again.” Her words were sharp, each syllable a threat. “There’s no way I’m going to be associated with him or his father after the divorce. And they don’t want you, anyway.”

“Get out!” Madoc growled.

She shut her mouth and swallowed, momentarily stunned.

Arching an eyebrow, she continued, addressing Madoc. “Once your father arrives, he’ll make you see sense. You won’t see my daughter again, Madoc.”

Madoc charged my mother, taking long, deep steps into her space until she was forced back into the hallway. I followed them, and he came to a slow stop, glowering down at her.

“Make that threat again,” he challenged. “I will put you through a wall to get to her.”

My eyes burned, and I smiled to myself.

He was at least six inches taller than my mother, and I didn’t know if he’d really do it, but my blood rushed hot seeing him like this.

She pursed her lips in defiance before finally deciding to shut her fucking mouth and walk away.

“Madoc . . .” I ran up to him, and he turned just in time to catch me in a hug. I whispered in his ear. “You’re so hot.”

His body shook with laughter, and he wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me up off the ground. I circled my arms around his neck and slammed the bedroom door after he’d walked us in.

“We’ve got problems,” said matter-of-factly.

“We’re eighteen. And my father is bluffing.”

“But—”

“Trust me,” he interrupted. “Do you love me?”

I nodded like a kid that wanted ice cream. “Yes.”

“Like love me so much that you wouldn’t even be able to kill me if I turned into a zombie?” he pressed with mischief on his face.

“Yes.” I laughed.

He set me down and dug in his pants, pulling out a circular, black leather box. As he opened it up, I nearly slumped at the sight of what I saw.

A ring, beautifully detailed around the platinum band with a large round diamond in the center and several smaller round diamonds down each side, shimmered in the room’s glow.

When my wide eyes looked up, Madoc was on one knee.

He smirked. “I have an idea.”

•   •   •

“Man, are you sure you’re ready to do this?” Jared leaned on the counter on Madoc’s other side as we signed the papers for our marriage license.

“Don’t be jealous,” Madoc joked. “We can still be friends. Just not friends with benefits.”

Jared rolled his eyes and walked back to the wall of chairs, sitting down with his elbows on his knees.

He didn’t look worried. Definitely concerned, though. Maybe a little frantic, too.

I knew I certainly was. I was nauseous, nervous, petrified, worried, and tense.

And completely in love.

It had taken me all of two seconds to find my voice and whisper “yes” when Madoc asked me to marry him. And even though I had a hurricane of concerns and questions spinning in my stomach, I was completely sure and calm about one thing.

Madoc.

I didn’t doubt him for a single moment, and I never hesitated when I asked myself if I was his.

I was, am, and will always be. This was it.

We’d left our house before Madoc’s dad got home and drove straight into Chicago. I’d barely had any clothes with me, so we headed to my dorm first so I could clean up and grab Tate, and then we’d texted Jared to ditch class and meet us at the City Clerk’s Office.

We needed witnesses and, of course, we wanted our friends there.

I definitely didn’t look like a bride, though. Tate and I had the same style in clothes, which meant I was out of luck for dresses. It was probably for the best, though. I would’ve been uncomfortable.

I wore a flimsy, white blouse with a fancy tie collar and capped sleeves tucked into some nice skinny jeans, and some black ballet flats with a matching black Burberry military coat. It was fitted at the waist and flared out as it fell mid-thigh. Madoc complemented me in his usual expensive jeans and a black military style fall coat that fell just below his waist. He had slapped some paste into his hair to make it stick up and the way he looked at me now, flashing his bright smile, was already doing me in.

Tate and I had scrambled on hair and makeup, but Madoc wouldn’t stop looking at me like he wanted to eat me, so I guess we did all right.

I interlaced my fingers, each hand clutching the other.

The big diamond ring felt like heaven on my finger, and that was saying something for a girl who didn’t wear conventional jewelry.

He’d said it was a family heirloom, and that his father had given it to his mother for their engagement. When I hesitated, he’d laughed and explained that even though her marriage ended in divorce, the grandmother and great-grandmother who’d worn it before all had long, happy lives with their husbands.

Husband.

Questions flooded my head. Where would we live? How badly were our parents going to react? What about school? Would I be good to him? Good for him?

Looking down, I stared at the ring with its intricate detailing on the band, considering the history it represented and the man who gave it to me. He loved me. He was faithful. He was strong.

And our parents had to face the fact that we would never leave each other alone.

“You look happy.” Tate stood at my side as Madoc finished up with the clerk.

I held my stomach and sighed. “I think I’m going to throw up, actually.”

Madoc turned his head, eyeing me with raised eyebrows.

I rushed to add, “But it’s like a wow-I’m-so-excited-I-think-I’m-going-to-be-sick feeling.”

He leaned in and plopped a quick kiss on my lips. “Come on. Let’s head to the courthouse.”

He took my hand and grabbed the marriage license off the counter, but I dug my feet in, stopping him.

“Madoc?” My voice sounded as timid as I could make it. “I think . . . maybe . . . we should find a priest.”

I scrunched my face in an apology.

“A priest?” he asked, his expression confused.

Madoc and I were both raised Catholic and attended parochial elementary schools. However, we’d both stopped practicing, so I could see how he was blindsided by my request.

I gulped. “I just think that my father may kill you unless a priest marries us.” I tipped one corner of my lips up in a smile and clutched Madoc’s hand, dragging him forward. “Come on.”

•   •   •

Jared followed with Tate in his car, and Madoc and I led the way in his. Sovereign’s Pub was on the north side of Chicago, between the Clerk’s Office where we’d come from and Northwestern. We parked in the rear, and I led the way into the bar, knowing exactly where to go.

Sitting in a back room that could be closed off with red velvet curtains, I saw Father McCaffrey sitting at a round table with three buddies. Two of them priests like himself and one old-timer in a leather jacket.

“Father, hi,” I greeted, my hand still in Madoc’s.

He pulled his pint away from his lips and looked at me wide-eyed. “Fallon, dear. What are you doing here?”

He had a strong Irish accent even though he’d lived in this country for more than twenty years. I think he worked hard to maintain the accent. Not only did his parishioners love it, but I knew he helped my father with business and having the accent helped when dealing with Irish clients. And since he’d baptized me, I knew him well. He had graying dark-blond hair, light blue eyes, and a bit of a beer belly. Other than that he was in good shape. His freckles made him look younger than he was. Dressed in his black pants and dress shirt, he also wore an emerald green sweater vest that allowed his clerical collar to be visible.

“Father, this is Madoc Caruthers. My . . . fiancé.” Madoc and I exchanged sideways glances and smiled.

In one respect it felt strange to say “fiancé” when I’d never even called Madoc my boyfriend.

“What?” Father McCaffrey’s jaw hung open.

Right away my heart started to sink. He was going to put up a fight.

“Father, I know this is unusual—”

“Father.” Madoc stepped forward, interrupting. “We’d like to get married. Can you handle that for us or not?”

“When?” Father asked.

“Now.” Madoc tipped his chin down like an adult speaking to a child. “Right here, right now.”

Father’s eyes about popped out. “Here?” he gasped, and I almost laughed.

I had actually thought I’d coerce Father McCaffrey back over to the church a few blocks away, but Madoc seemed to want to get down to business. Fine by me. If I had a choice between a staunchy Clerk’s Office, a drafty church, or an old Irish pub smelling of furniture polish and Guinness, I’d rather be here. The wooden bar and tables and chairs all shined with the afternoon sun pouring in through the windows, and the green curtains made the place feel comfortable and homey.

“Father,” I started, “when you’re not in the church, you’re at the bar, and we’re ready.”

“Fallon, shouldn’t you be waiting for your father’s blessing, dear?” The worry was clear all over his face.

“My father,” I stated firmly, “trusts my judgment. You should as well, Father.”

Madoc grabbed my hand, slid the ring off my finger, and set it down with the marriage license and the silver band he had picked out for himself this morning on the table.

“Marry us, please, or we’ll have to go to the courthouse with or without the Church’s blessing. That is something her father won’t like.”

Jared snorted behind us, and I looked back to see him and Tate trying to bite back smiles.

Glad they were enjoying this. Sweat broke out across my forehead.

Father McCaffrey sat there, and so did everyone at the table. They looked between Father and us, I looked between Father and Madoc, and Father looked between Madoc and me.

I wasn’t sure whose move it was, but I didn’t think it was ours.

Father finally stood up, and slipping his hand inside his vest, he pulled out a pen and leaned down, signing the paper.

I dipped my head, a huge smile stretching my face. Madoc turned to me, cupping my face, and leaned down to plant a soft kiss on my lips.

“Are you ready?” he whispered.

I breathed him in through my nose, inhaling his rich scent, and started taking off my coat. “Children will wait until after college,” I stated low enough for only us to hear. “Agreed?”

He nodded, his forehead rubbing against mine. “Definitely. As long as we can have five later.”

“Five?!”

Jared cleared his throat, bringing our attention back to the people around us, while Madoc laughed under his breath. I took a deep breath and swallowed.

Yeah, we were going to have to talk about that later.

Father brought us around to sign our parts under “Groom” and “Bride,” and then Jared and Tate came around to sign as witnesses, also having to print their names at the bottom with Father McCaffrey as the officiant.

“Everyone quiet now!” Father shouted to the fifteen or so people in the bar. They quieted down and turned to us, finally noticing what was going on behind them. The bar fell silent as the music was cut off, and Madoc turned to me, taking my hands in his as they hung down between us.

Father began the short service, but I barely heard him as I looked up at Madoc. His blue eyes that always held a bit of mischief. His angular jaw and high cheekbones that looked even more amazing when they were wet from a pool or shower. His broad shoulders that could encapsulate me with warmth.

But what I thought of most as Father bound us together was how little I was thinking about myself right now. Forever since I can remember, I’d thought about how much I hated my mother or missed my father. I thought about the disappointment and the anger, the wrongs and the loneliness.

I dwelled on the past, not realizing that it kept me from moving forward.

Now it was gone.

It wasn’t forgotten, of course. It just didn’t matter anymore.

This was my future, and as Madoc put the ring on my finger, I knew the best part of my past was right here with me.

I glanced at Tate, who watched with love in her eyes, and Jared, who had his arm around her, and the happy tears spilled down my cheeks.

Madoc smiled, grabbing me by the back of my neck and gently bringing my head into his chest. “Finish, Father,” he ordered over my head. “She needs to be kissed.”

The laughter in his voice was intoxicating. And I definitely needed to be kissed.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife.”

Madoc wasted no time. Wrapping a quick arm around my waist, he hauled me off of my feet and kissed me hard, his lips shooting a lightning bolt of desire from my mouth straight down to my stomach. I held his face in my hands, and turning my head to the side, I kissed him back with full force.

Keeping me locked to him, he turned us and walked us out of the small space.

“Thank you.” I grinned back at Father McCaffrey over Madoc’s shoulder.

Madoc called to the bartender over my shoulder. “Do you have any music?”

“U2,” the middle-aged guy answered.

Madoc scowled. “Is that it?”

“That’s all a man needs.” I heard the answer and started laughing in Madoc’s ear.

He sighed. “Something slow then.”

Lowering his hands, he cupped the bottom of my thighs and brought my legs up and around his waist. Next thing I knew chairs started grinding against the floor, and when I looked around, everyone in the bar was pushing back the table sets to make a dance floor.

U2’s “All I Want Is You” started spilling softly out of the speakers, haunting at first as it drifted into our ears. Madoc started swaying from one foot to the other, moving us from side to side. I put my forehead to his, listening to him whisper the words to the song and fighting back the burn in my eyes. As the song built stronger and louder and we moved more, spinning slowly and every once in a while, I placed a kiss on his lips.