Maddox Read online

  “My uncle is Angelo Rossi.”

  The sharpening of his gaze told me he knew exactly what that meant.

  “Feel free to leave if you’d like.” My gaze swung to the door.

  “Why would I do that?” His tone was affronted.

  “Most people do,” I admitted. I’d struggled for my entire life with making friends, and forget having boyfriends once anyone found out my last name.

  He waited until my eyes settled back on him. “Good thing I’m not most people.”

  What was is it about this man that made me want to bare my soul? “Good thing,” I agreed, once I’d found my voice.

  He cocked his head to the side. “Why do most people call you Frannie? Not to say I don’t like it. But Francesca is a beautiful name.”

  I thought about how to answer him, about how much to share. “My uncle and his men call me Francesca.” I grimaced.

  He looked at me thoughtfully, as though preparing to say more, but the bell over the door clanged, followed by more people entering than I’d ever seen in the bakery at one time.

  My eyes popped wide in shock as they all got into a line at the register.

  Maddox’s brow rose. “That’s a hell of a morning rush.”

  “Uh, this isn’t a morning rush. Must be a tour bus that got lost or something,” I muttered tensely. “Nice talking to you,” I added as I rushed behind the counter to begin taking orders.

  “That coffee gonna be warm by the time I get it?” one of the customers snarked a few minutes later as I rushed to accommodate orders singlehandedly.

  “Coffee’s gonna be what it is, or you can leave.” Maddox’s warning growl surprised me as he appeared at my side behind the counter. “Looks like you could use a hand,” he noted, his hand briefly touching my lower back. It was a small touch, and yet even through my thin cotton tee I felt his skin like a flame.

  I fought to keep my breathing regulated as I replied tartly, “Not my typical customer service style. But I’ll make an exception this time.”

  He grinned, flashing a heart-stopping dimple as he pulled some mugs off the rack and started pouring coffee.

  For the next two hours we worked side by side, effortlessly navigating around each other as we filled orders. At times, he’d touch my back or my arm lightly as he moved around me, and every time my heart rate soared in response.

  During a brief lull, I led him to the kitchen in back, showing him how to make cannoli. I fought a grin as he earnestly attempted to delicately fold the dough with his large, callused hands.

  “It’ll still taste good,” I assured him with a grin as I dropped his somewhat tube-like creations into the fryer.

  He leaned against the counter, watching me with warm eyes. “My mom can’t cook to save her life; may have inherited that gene,” he muttered, his arms folded across his muscular chest. Flour dusted his clothes, and I’d never found a man more attractive in my life.

  “If I could be taught to bake, so can you,” I replied with an easy shrug.

  “Your mama teach you?” he asked, his head cocked to the side.

  I swallowed hard. “My mom is gone. My nonna taught me.” Even now, all these years later, it was still hard to talk about. I didn’t think it would ever get easier.

  “I’m sorry,” he murmured sincerely.

  I was grateful when a few more customers entered, ending our conversation.

  When I turned the open sign over a short while later, I slumped back against the closed door in relief. “Phew, what a day.” I sighed as Maddox collected the remaining dishes from the tables. “I don’t know what I would have done without your help, thank you so much,” I added emphatically.

  He looked up, his piercing gray eyes landing on mine. “It was my pleasure.”

  Did I imagine the double meaning to his words?

  “Let me make you a late lunch,” I offered, shoving off from the door and heading for the kitchen.

  He caught my arm as I passed, gently gripping my bicep. “I’m fine, sweets. You’ve worked hard enough already.”

  I fought and lost against the shiver his touch and term of endearment invoked. “I don’t mind. I’m hungry too. Unless you need to take off?” I added hastily. He’d spent hours helping me, which clearly hadn’t been his plan for the day.

  His response was swift and firm. “I can stay.”

  Damn, but the man was intense.

  I felt his presence at my back as I moved around the kitchen, pulling out what I needed to make us paninis. They weren’t on the menu but I tended to keep a few additional ingredients around for when the urge came to experiment or when I was just plain hungry, like now.

  “This your typical shift?” he asked as he watched me, leaning against the countertop, his boot-clad feet crossed at the ankle.

  I snorted, sliding a plate in front of him. “My shift is whenever we’re open.”

  His brows rose in surprise. “You run this place by yourself?”

  I nodded.

  “I assumed this was a family business,” he admitted.

  “It is. Or it was,” I amended. “My grandparents ran it together before they both passed a few years ago. The business isn’t doing well,” I confessed, surprising myself. I hadn’t shared that with anyone. Then again, I didn’t typically have anyone to share with. “My nonna would be so disappointed. I’ve been trying different things to get the word out, and—” I cut myself off. “You don’t need to hear about my problems.”

  “I want to.” His gaze locked on mine so intently I had to fight the urge to squirm. He was observant and unapologetically intense, that much was obvious. “Now, the bakery?” he prompted. “I assume nonna is grandma in Italian?”

  I nodded. “My grandfather passed first, and for a little while I helped her keep it going. It was so important to her that I keep their dream alive.”

  “That’s a hell of a lot of pressure,” he noted.

  I looked around the space wistfully, lost in my thoughts. “Eventually she couldn’t keep up. I know that just about killed her.” I swallowed hard. “But she was never the same after my grandfather died and soon followed him. I’ve been trying to run things ever since but I don’t think I’m doing a very good job,” I shared, admitting my biggest fear.

  His head cocked to the side. “Why would you say that?”

  “Aside from the crowd today, business is down a lot. People want to go to the big chains or stay directly on the strip.” I shrugged, pulling at the edge of my bread.

  “Don’t know how much you can do about the city changin’, baby.” He shook his head. “What I do know is that the coffee’s damn good, and I’m not much of a sweets guy, but from everything I heard today, there are no better pastries around. You’re great with the customers and the place is spotless. I’d say you’re doing a damn good job and making your nonna proud.”

  I don’t know if it was my exhaustion or the pure sincerity in his words, but I suddenly found myself blinking back tears. “Thank you,” I said meaningfully.

  “You’re welcome,” he replied before groaning around a mouthful of panini, the sound of pleasure going straight to my core. “Goddamn, that’s good.”

  I grinned, pleased he liked it. I dug into my own sandwich as we stood around the counter eating in comfortable silence. “What brought you to Vegas?” I asked when he’d polished off his sandwich.

  I saw a flash of indecision in his eyes. “Just some quick club business. Thought I’d be in and out.”

  “Sorry you got held up.” I grimaced.

  He looked at me intently. “Never been so fucking glad to have my bike break down, and that’s the goddamn truth.”

  “Oh,” I replied lamely.

  He grinned, flashing his dimple. “Yeah, oh. I’d like to see you again, sweets.”

  I cocked my head to the side. “Why do you keep calling me that?”

  “Because I have no doubt you taste as sweet as your pastries.” His low voice was full of delicious intent.

  “
You’re very forward,” I accused, despite his words sending a thrill down my spine.

  He nodded, accepting my assessment with a confidence I assumed was core to the man he was. “When I see something I want,” he agreed.

  I sucked in a surprised breath. I’d never had a man pursue me with such persistence before. Especially a man with as much ferocious beauty as Maddox Black exuded in spades.

  The majority of my life, I’d aimed to blend in to my surroundings, never wanting to attract the attention of my uncle, or worse yet, Bruno. Now it was as though I was thrust into a spotlight under Maddox’s gaze. With my long dark hair, curves that came from sampling too many of the sweets, and ever-present glasses, I’d always thought of myself as middle of the road when it came to looks. With the way his eyes locked on me, it was clear he liked what he saw. I wasn’t entirely sure what to do with that.

  Not that it mattered anyway.

  “My uncle and the Knights don’t get along, do they?” I asked the question I already knew the answer to, knowing it was time to face reality.

  At his nod I sighed. “I don’t think my uncle would be very… accommodating of us spending time together,” I shared in defeat.

  His gaze narrowed, jaw clenched. “Has he hurt you?”

  He had no idea how complex that question truly was. “Not physically,” I answered finally.

  “You don’t like him,” he surmised.

  “I hate the man,” I replied vehemently.

  He moved to my side of the counter, his large hand cupping my jaw and tipping my head up. “My advice? Don’t let him have another ounce of your life. He doesn’t deserve it. Hell, neither do I, but I’ll take what I can get.” His eyes were bright with passion as he continued. “You want to see me? You’ll see me. We can be cautious—I’d never put you at risk. But this isn’t the end of you and me. This is only the beginning. And that hate you have for him? Baby, I can sure as hell work with that.”

  Chapter 3

  MADDOX

  Every part of me protested as I pulled away from the curb of the bakery and pointed my bike for home.

  It felt wrong to leave her. I’d just met her but she was fucking mine, every part of me knew it. Down to my bones.

  Her gorgeous brown eyes, made impossibly bigger by those cute as hell glasses of hers, had looked at me with a mixture of wariness and awe. She was guarded. And who wouldn’t be with a family like the Rossis? I didn’t know her story, not yet, but with an uncle like hers she had to have been through some form of hell. Behind that guarded, fragile-seeming demeanor was a warrior. She was like a gorgeous package of contradiction and I wanted to unlock every piece.

  The Rossi family was notorious. Our club had been fighting to keep them out of our territory for the past several years. The good news was that their numbers had dwindled, their power diminishing. Didn’t mean they weren’t still dangerous as hell.

  And the woman I already thought of as mine was fucking related to the bastard at the helm of it all.

  I hit the Hawthorne town limits late evening. I’d made good time. I’d been raised in the small town, a town my club claimed with pride. When I pulled up to Mad’s, my pop’s bar that he’d named after me, I swung off the bike, limbs stiff from the long ride. Mad’s was a biker bar through and through, frequented mainly by club members and friends of the club.

  A cold beer and some loud music were just what I needed. If some asshole was spoiling for a fight, even better. I needed a way to release all the pent-up energy I had humming through my veins.

  Energy I wanted to release on Francesca as soon as fucking possible. I’d never been more attracted to a woman in my life. With her luscious mouth, doe eyes, and curves in all the right places, it was as though she was built for me. Built to take me.

  Loud music blared as I walked through the door, offering a chin lift to a few club members and to Gunner working the bar. My pop’s generation of Knights were tight, but Gunner, Max, Tatum, and I had grown up together. We were as close as brothers.

  “You good?” Gunner asked, sliding a beer my way as I took a spot at the bar. He knew me well and I wasn’t surprised he’d picked up on my mood.

  “I’m good,” I replied gruffly, taking a deep swallow of my beer and slamming the bottle back down harder than I’d intended.

  He cocked his head to the side as though deciding whether or not to push me. I shook my head, telling him without words to leave me be.

  As close as we were, I didn’t want to tell him about Francesca. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust him, more that she was too fucking precious to share. I wanted to keep her to myself for as long as I could.

  “Wasn’t Walker supposed to be on tonight?” I asked, referring to Cash Walker, another member of our club. Though he hadn’t grown up in the club like us, Cash had easily proven himself to be one of us.

  Gunner grinned. “Nah. Probably off chasing tail.”

  Despite my mood I chuckled. We all gave Cash shit for his good looks and the amount of female attention he received, whether he wanted it or not. He didn’t chase pussy, not as much as he could anyway, but we gave him shit nonetheless.

  “He’s probably working out,” I amended. Asshole spent more time at the gym than anyone I knew.

  I pulled out my phone as Gun served some customers, already itching to reach out to Francesca.

  Just got back to town. You good?

  I didn’t think I’d stop worrying about her until I figured out a way to have her closer to me and to keep her there. Plus, I just wanted to be connected to her.

  She didn’t respond and I forced myself not to stare at my phone like a pussy whipped teenager. Instead, I finished my beer and with a chin lift to Gun, left the bar, headed for home.

  It was only when I was in bed, hours later, and she still hadn’t responded that I pressed my phone to my ear. I knew she had to be up early, that she was probably sleeping. But I didn’t fucking care. I needed to know she was okay.

  “’Ello?” Her soft, sleepy voice had lust roaring through my veins.

  “You didn’t respond to me.” I forced myself to keep my tone calm.

  “Maddox?” she sounded confused, half asleep.

  “Yeah, baby. It’s me,” I confirmed through clenched teeth. Her raspy voice through the phone was driving me fucking insane.

  “Oh.” She sounded unsure what to say.

  “Did you not think I’d call?” I pressed gently.

  “I wasn’t sure,” she admitted with a sigh.

  “Sweets, I’m gonna call you every day until I can see you again,” I assured her. “Now, you didn’t respond to me earlier. Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” she murmured sleepily. “I’m sorry. I was surprised you had reached out. I guess I’m not used to it.”

  I knew she had grown used to people avoiding her because of her family. “Get used to it,” I replied, knowing I was coming on strong and not giving a single fuck about it. “I know you probably need your sleep, but will you tell me about the rest of your day first?”

  “It was fine.” I could hear the shy smile in her voice. “Nothing too exciting. I made some dinner and watched some TV.”

  “What did you watch?” I asked, settling deeper into my covers, wishing she was next to me.

  “Uh….” She trailed off and I would swear I could hear her blush. “I forget.”

  I grinned. “You forget? Baby.” My tone was tenderly admonishing.

  “Fine. It was Sons of Anarchy,” she grumbled.

  I couldn’t help the laugh that escaped. “Baby, I’ll give you the real thing,” I assured her when I’d pulled it together, my wide grin the only remnant of my laughter.

  She let out an embarrassed groan. “I suck at lying.”

  “I don’t want you to be a good liar,” I assured her. “I just want you to be you. Now, what time do you normally go to sleep?”

  “Around eight,” she replied.

  “I’ll call you earlier tomorrow,” I promised. “But if you n
eed me, you text. You call. I’m here. All right?”

  A beat passed before she answered. “All right. And Maddox?” Her voice was so fucking sweet.

  “Yeah, baby?”

  “I don’t doubt you’re even better than the real thing.”

  Fuck. I was so gone over this woman it wasn’t even funny. Now I just needed to get her to feel the same way.

  Chapter 4

  FRANCESCA

  How’s my girl?

  The text came in from Maddox a month later as I was curled up on the couch in my apartment above the bakery. Aside from our first meeting, we hadn’t seen each other in person but we’d talked daily either via text or on the phone.

  I blushed at his referring to me as his girl. Despite my attraction to him and the connection I felt to him, I was still skeptical things could work between us. I may not have supported my uncle’s way of life, but Maddox’s club didn’t necessarily trust that. Nor would my uncle ever accept a relationship between us without a fight.

  It felt like an uphill battle that although worth it if we succeeded, might not be winnable at all.

  I wasn’t sure I could risk the heartbreak if we failed. I’d lost everyone close to me. Letting him in and losing him was impossible to contemplate, despite only having known him such a short time. As it was he already felt like an integral part of my life. His texts and calls gave me something to look forward to, something beyond the small world I’d been trapped inside.

  Good. Just curled up with a movie.

  How was your day?

  Meh.

  I set my phone down when he didn’t reply right away and turned eyes back to the movie I’d just started. It had been a slow day at the bakery, but I’d still been on my feet for most of it and I was excited to curl up and eat some calorie-ridden takeout that I had yet to order and crash early.

  Maybe we can make your day less meh. Come to your door.

  I gasped in shock. Holy heck, is he here?