Bad Boy's Bridesmaid(258)

By: Sosie Frost

“More…” Josie arched, offering herself to me. “All of you.”

I held her hand and propped myself over her body, my hips pounding in slow thrusts. Her tongue danced over mine, tender.

This was how it was meant to be.

Hard and soft. Rough and gentle. Dangerous and Sweet.

Everything bad in me was made good in her touch. Everything too naïve in her, I’d protect. It wasn’t balance, but necessity. I took, I pleasured, I gave, and Josie offered me the greatest gift of all—a place in her world, at her side, with her and our baby. She would forever grant me freedom from my past.

“Goddamn, I love you, Sweets.” I broke the kiss. That was the most idiotic thing I ever did. I had no idea something could ache more than my cock, but losing her lips was like losing a part of me.

“Love you…” She gripped harder, murmuring more that was lost in the burst of her pleasure.

“Marry me?” I thrust deep, hitting her core.



Her hand rubbed over her tummy. “The sooner the better.”

Just what I wanted to hear, to see. She cupped her belly where our baby would grow, and I could only imagine a happiness that I never knew, never experienced, never thought I’d have.

In my grasp.

In her arms.

Her groaned pitched higher as I drove myself into her, harder, faster, softer, gentler, anything I could offer. She moved with me, and together we built to that amazing moment where I abandoned everything and just gave myself to her.

I came, flooded her, and, for the first time, I didn’t hope something would come of it. I had my woman.

I had my baby.

And we sunk into the bed, spent and dizzy and overwhelmed with each other.

I held her against me in silence. I expected her to sleep. She didn’t. And I knew what was coming.

“Maddox?” Her voice was soft. She gripped my chest, nuzzling her head against me.

I didn’t open my eyes. “Yeah?”

She hesitated. The tension built in her body. I held her close, but I couldn’t protect her from this.

No one could.

“I know who set fire to my shop,” she whispered.

I considered pretending that I hadn’t realized the truth as well. But what was better—staying ignorant or facing the problem head on?

“Yeah,” I said. “Me too.”

“I have to talk to him.”

“You sure you want to hear what he has to say?”

Josie bit her lip, but she was determined. “I have to know.”

So did I.

Even if that meant confronting Matthias Davis.

Chapter Twenty Four – Josie

I wasn’t ready to do this, but I didn’t have a choice.

After a year of quiet investigation, trying desperately to understand why someone would burn my shop, it was time for the truth.

And I prayed it didn’t destroy what was left of my family.

Maddox came with me to Willowbend. Even though the news broke of the fire, and Nolan and Chief Craig were arrested, Maddox still garnered concerned glances.

But they didn’t know. The most recent fire was Nolan’s doing…but the first? Maddox’s name wasn’t cleared yet. And I had no idea what would happen when the secrets finally came to light.

Granddad actually stood when I arrived. He enveloped me in a big hug, just like when I was a kid, when we took the picture in the shop that should have burned in the fire.

I carried it with me and brought it back to him. He held it with a smile. I wished I could share it.

“Jo-Jo, I heard the news about that damn Nolan. I’m glad you’re safe, girl.”

He coughed, harsh. I helped him to a chair. He eyed Maddox with a grunt.

“You saved her?” he asked.

“Of course I did,” he said.

“You love her?”

He didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

Granddad didn’t hush when I told him to let it go. “No one in this town thinks you’re good enough for her.”

Maddox shrugged. “Do you?”

Granddad looked at the photo in his hands. He recognized my pain, patting a shaking hand on my cheek. “Who am I to judge?”

I took the seat next to him. What I had to do would tear me apart, and I wanted to stay close to the man who always comforted me during dark moments like this.

“Granddad, we need to talk.” I took his hand. “And…this is going to be hard.”

“Don’t worry about me, Jo-Jo.”

“I do.”

“I’m your grandfather, you’re my granddaughter.” He made sure I was listening. “It’s my job to worry about you, not the other way around.”

He had said that for years. I knew he thought it was true, that I was still the little eight-year-old girl, stealing sweets while Nana worked the counter at the shop.

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