followed Madison’s Oldsmobile into Mario’s parking lot.
He knew this place well. At least once a month, he stopped in for a slice. The restaurant was owned by a family from Italy and, holy shit, they made fantastic pizza—and expensive. At least, from a pizza standpoint.
If Madison couldn’t afford to get the kids ice cream, then this place was definitely outside her budget. Hell, he was a little antsy about the hit this was going to take to the forty-four dollars he had left.
Damn if he hadn’t pissed Madison off by offering her the money for the ice cream too. He’d seen it in her eyes as soon as she’d glanced down at the money. That willful pride. She hadn’t reacted quite so negatively about the pizza. He could only assume it had to be because she was trying to remind him of his budget at the time.
And twice he guessed he’d reminded her that he really didn’t have a budget.
He hadn’t meant any offense in the gesture, but as she stared down at that ten dollar bill he’d realized something monumental about Madison Walker. The woman was full of pride and she didn’t like charity. And he respected that. If he were in her shoes, he’d be the same way.
As they reached the counter, Madison looked down at her kids. “We’re taking it to-go, got it?” Then she pinned him with her gaze, as if daring him to contradict her.
No way. He’d learned his lesson.
He held up his hands. “If that’s what momma wants, that’s what momma gets.”
Amusement twisted her lips. He was glad to see it. Things between him and Madison had been kind of roller coasterish today. He’d made some mistakes. Asking about her ex had been one. The dancing was another.
That one he really needed to let go. Every time he thought about it he saw her grinding her ass on that man’s lap again, and this ugly, dark jealous monster started to claw forward. Why, he didn’t know. He didn’t have any claim on her. Yes, he was attracted to her. Had been from the moment she’d walked into his office for an interview, but, for fuck’s sakes, jealousy was taking it to a whole new level he wasn’t comfortable with.
“Jaxon,” she said, thankfully saving him from his thoughts. “What kind of pizza do you eat?”
She propped her elbow on the counter, funneled her fingers through her hair and studied the menu then started gnawing on the corner of her thumbnail on her other hand. He found the entire thing fascinating and he couldn’t take his eyes off her.
“It’s pizza. I’ll eat anything.”
She sent him a ‘you’re not helping look’, then went back to the menu and chewing her thumb. It was ordering a pizza, but she made it out like it was some kind of huge undertaking.
She’d glance up for a minute, stare ahead at nothing, her head would bob from left to right for a second like she was thinking, then she’d go back to looking at the menu and gnawing on her thumb. What was she doing? Just pick a pizza and order it.
Then it hit him.
She was calculating. It wasn’t even her money. He was paying, and she was trying to figure out the best deal. It was also why she wanted to get it to-go. No tip, no drinks. Just the pizza. She was doing everything she could to save him money.
The oddest thing happened. His chest tightened with gratitude.
“Faith,” she said. “Pepperoni and mushroom?”
“I don’t like mushroom.”
Madison let out a breath and rubbed her forehead. “You can pick it off.”
Faith’s nose scrunched up. “I don’t want it on my pizza!” the girl said louder this time. “I want my own pizza.”
“Excuse me?” Her mother turned toward her, surprise evident on her face. “Well, that’s not happening.”
“Why not?”
“We’re getting one large.”
The little girl crossed her arms tight over her chest just like her brother had earlier. Did all kids do that? “I don’t want pizza.”
Madison made a whatever noise that clearly said that she didn’t give two shits if they got pizza or
He knew this place well. At least once a month, he stopped in for a slice. The restaurant was owned by a family from Italy and, holy shit, they made fantastic pizza—and expensive. At least, from a pizza standpoint.
If Madison couldn’t afford to get the kids ice cream, then this place was definitely outside her budget. Hell, he was a little antsy about the hit this was going to take to the forty-four dollars he had left.
Damn if he hadn’t pissed Madison off by offering her the money for the ice cream too. He’d seen it in her eyes as soon as she’d glanced down at the money. That willful pride. She hadn’t reacted quite so negatively about the pizza. He could only assume it had to be because she was trying to remind him of his budget at the time.
And twice he guessed he’d reminded her that he really didn’t have a budget.
He hadn’t meant any offense in the gesture, but as she stared down at that ten dollar bill he’d realized something monumental about Madison Walker. The woman was full of pride and she didn’t like charity. And he respected that. If he were in her shoes, he’d be the same way.
As they reached the counter, Madison looked down at her kids. “We’re taking it to-go, got it?” Then she pinned him with her gaze, as if daring him to contradict her.
No way. He’d learned his lesson.
He held up his hands. “If that’s what momma wants, that’s what momma gets.”
Amusement twisted her lips. He was glad to see it. Things between him and Madison had been kind of roller coasterish today. He’d made some mistakes. Asking about her ex had been one. The dancing was another.
That one he really needed to let go. Every time he thought about it he saw her grinding her ass on that man’s lap again, and this ugly, dark jealous monster started to claw forward. Why, he didn’t know. He didn’t have any claim on her. Yes, he was attracted to her. Had been from the moment she’d walked into his office for an interview, but, for fuck’s sakes, jealousy was taking it to a whole new level he wasn’t comfortable with.
“Jaxon,” she said, thankfully saving him from his thoughts. “What kind of pizza do you eat?”
She propped her elbow on the counter, funneled her fingers through her hair and studied the menu then started gnawing on the corner of her thumbnail on her other hand. He found the entire thing fascinating and he couldn’t take his eyes off her.
“It’s pizza. I’ll eat anything.”
She sent him a ‘you’re not helping look’, then went back to the menu and chewing her thumb. It was ordering a pizza, but she made it out like it was some kind of huge undertaking.
She’d glance up for a minute, stare ahead at nothing, her head would bob from left to right for a second like she was thinking, then she’d go back to looking at the menu and gnawing on her thumb. What was she doing? Just pick a pizza and order it.
Then it hit him.
She was calculating. It wasn’t even her money. He was paying, and she was trying to figure out the best deal. It was also why she wanted to get it to-go. No tip, no drinks. Just the pizza. She was doing everything she could to save him money.
The oddest thing happened. His chest tightened with gratitude.
“Faith,” she said. “Pepperoni and mushroom?”
“I don’t like mushroom.”
Madison let out a breath and rubbed her forehead. “You can pick it off.”
Faith’s nose scrunched up. “I don’t want it on my pizza!” the girl said louder this time. “I want my own pizza.”
“Excuse me?” Her mother turned toward her, surprise evident on her face. “Well, that’s not happening.”
“Why not?”
“We’re getting one large.”
The little girl crossed her arms tight over her chest just like her brother had earlier. Did all kids do that? “I don’t want pizza.”
Madison made a whatever noise that clearly said that she didn’t give two shits if they got pizza or
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