8. Madeline

Madeline had never dreaded a meeting with a bride and her mother more than the one that was about to happen.

For one thing, she had no samples, no designs, no ideas, no timeline, no budget. She did have the names of two custom dressmakers in Miami and Atlanta who could possibly turn around a dress in three months. She also had a knot in her chest from the nerves of knowing the meeting wouldn't go well when she dropped her bomb and told them she didn't want their business.

Adam had accepted her decision without a fight, and she hadn't seen him since they'd said goodbye in Jacksonville two days ago. She had her FBI burner phone and information hidden in a safe at her home, which she'd return to Adam when this whole thing was over.

He had suggested he come early and wait upstairs in the studio while she broke the news to the Cassanos, but she'd asked him not to. If they came up for any reason—to look at fabric or samples—it would be awkward. So he said he'd go next door to Sadie's chocolate shop and she promised to meet him there when Bella and Ginny left.

When she heard the soft ding announcing a guest at the front of her salon, Madeline shook off her nerves and walked through the shop with her game face on. With a smile, she unlocked the door for their appointment, ready to greet Ginny and Bella.

Even before she got the door open, she could hear angry words being slung between the mother and daughter. Unlike other people, who generally stopped fighting when someone else entered the picture, these two kept the argument going as they walked in.

"Oh, hello," Madeline said.

Bella sailed by her, the ubiquitous coffee cup in one hand, her phone in the other, yet another designer bag whipping through the air as she tossed it on the settee.

"You've lost your mind, Ginny Cassano!" She scowled at her mother. "Have you forgotten that this is my wedding, not yours."

Ginny, at least, managed an apologetic eyeroll in Madeline's direction. "I'm sure you hear these arguments all the time."

Yes, but usually they kept them in the car and faked it for the dressmaker.

Madeline just gave them a reassuring smile. "Weddings, especially with tight deadlines, make everyone tense."

And she wasn't about to ease the situation with her news. Maybe she should wait until Bella finished her coffee so that cup didn't get flung across the studio at a five-thousand-dollar dress.

"This has nothing to do with the timeline being tight," Bella said, slamming the cup on the table and dropping to a seat to shoot visual daggers at Ginny. "This has to do with needing to impress everyone my mother has ever met. I do not care if the DJ is flown in from Los Angeles. I simply do not. I'm not the Bridezilla," she told Madeline. "This woman is obsessed with everyone knowing that we're rich."

"That's not…" Ginny closed her eyes and took a breath. "Let's just look at Madeline's ideas, Bella. I'm not having this argument right here and right now."

"Tell her about the exit," Bella continued. "No sparklers and a limo for us, no. We have to take off in a helicopter!"

"Oh." Madeline lifted her brows. "That's different."

"That's over the top is what it is." Bella fired the words at her mother. "Along with Chinese orchids at ninety bucks a stem, Louis Vuitton bags for the wedding party, and an engraved picture frame from Tiffany's for every single guest. Don't you realize what you're saying to these people, Mom?"

"That you're our most valuable possession and we're celebrating your important day."

Bella just stared at her, seething. "Don't you get it?"

Madeline held up a hand to stop the fight, but Bella practically swatted it away with just a harsh look.

"I need to talk to my mother," she ground out. "Privately."

"Of course." She took a few steps back. "I'll be in my office, or you could—"

"Go!" she barked, pointing toward the back of the store.

No, Madeline would not miss having this shrew as a client. Without a word, she walked out of the salon, into the back hallway, turning to walk into her private office when she slammed right into a man.

Adam put a light hand over her mouth as she opened it to react.

"Shh. I want to listen," he whispered, easing his hand away.

She blinked at him, a new wave of fury rising up. "Do you—"

"Maddie." He leaned close to breathe the words in her ear. "If this is the only chance, I want to hear."

She closed her eyes and nodded, putting both hands on his chest. "Do not let them see you," she mouthed, but she could have said it out loud and no one would have heard her over Bella's shrieking.

"Don't you realize what you're saying to the world when you flaunt our wealth?" the young woman demanded.

"That we're successful."

Bella snorted. "People aren't dumb, Mom. Maybe up here they think Dad hit it big with some has-been restaurant from the eighties, but you have important guests on that list and they might start talking to each other. We don't want that."

Madeline looked up at Adam, holding his gaze, seeing the interest in his eyes. But nothing Bella said was incriminating. Not really. Not enough to turn Madeline into a government spy who lied to her family.

"Well, you're the one who's bringing in a judge from another city to officiate," Ginny said. "I can't believe you want someone like that and not a priest, since we are Catholic."

"Oh, yeah, we're as holy as the Pope," Bella cracked. "And if you have an issue with the judge, talk to your husband. Let him tell you why Nance is doing the wedding."

She could feel Adam's entire body react and heard the soft intake of his breath.

Wait. Nance. Nance. Hadn't the FBI agent mentioned a Judge Nance and a trial in Tampa?

Madeline's eyes widened as they listened, both of them stone still and silent.

"I did talk to him!" Ginny said. "Nico insists on this guy doing the wedding. He probably owes him a favor. You'd think the Tiffany picture frame you're mocking so hard would do the trick."

"Oh, Mom, don't be dense! Owes him a favor? How about your husband is a hair's breadth from being dragged into a case that could mean—" Bella caught herself, and Madeline could just picture her gulping from her coffee cup to stop the words from coming out.

"Could mean what?" Ginny demanded.

"Not here, Mom. Not now. Dad hates it when you get your nose all up in his business."

Adam let out a soft sigh, his frustration palpable. He wanted to know what it all meant as much as Ginny did.

But the two women were quiet for nearly a minute.

"Oh, I gotta get this call," Bella finally said. "And listen to me, Mom."

"I'm listening," Ginny answered on a sigh of resignation.

"Louis?" Bella said, presumably into the phone. "Where the hell are you? Nico is not happy that he can't reach you. Hang on a second."

Once again, Madeline looked up at Adam. "Louis?"

"Serifino," he mouthed, his eyes saying everything.

We need to know this, Madeline.

This time, the sigh of resignation was from her. She really could help, and Bella had a big mouth that was regularly spewing information the FBI needed to know.

"Mom," Bella said, her voice a little lower. "I don't want a freaking custom-made dress, okay? I want that beautiful thing she showed us for the ceremony and pictures. Then, I want one for the party that makes me look amazing. I don't want six thousand tailoring sessions and a million hours here. Just let me buy the dresses, have a couple of fittings, and save the time and twenty thousand bucks. Capice?"

Ginny chuckled. "You sound like your father."

"I am like my father," she said. "And we have some serious business to do with Raymond Nance, so don't even think about getting in the way of that. Okay? Now go get that lady and let's do this dress thing. Hey, Louis, I'm back…"

The front door dinged as she walked out and Adam instantly backed away, slipping into Madeline's office and closing the door. She barely had a second to react, turn, and head back into the salon.

"Girls? Have we solved the problems of the—oh!" She pretended to be surprised by Ginny coming through the doorway. "I guess we have solved all the problems."

"We have," Ginny said, looking a bit defeated. "But Madeline, I'm afraid I have some bad news."

"Oh, dear. I hope our beautiful bride hasn't left for good."

"No, no. She's on a call. She's a good girl," Ginny said, really testing Madeline's ability not to roll her eyes. "She wants to save money, which really isn't necessary, but I'll go along with her decision. If we don't do custom—"

"Never you worry, Mrs. Cassano," Madeline assured her. "I have two dresses that will bring you both to tears and it'll take very little time to add some custom detailing, and make them fit Bella as if they were truly made just for her."

Ginny smiled. "Thank you. Can we do that today?"

"We can start, and then we'll only have to get together a few times."

But would that be enough to get the information Adam needed? And would it mean she needed "round-the-clock" protection?

She didn't know yet. Adam would tell her when the Cassano women left, and she'd go along with whatever he wanted, because she really wanted to do this.

It was almostfive by the time Bella settled on two dresses that would be fitted and customized for her. The mother-daughter duo left a messy salon and one very exhausted Madeline in their wake.

It was one thing to navigate the landmines that came with trying on dresses, especially with a volatile personality like Bella.

It was another thing altogether to be walking that tightrope and listening for any and all clues, words, names, events, dates, and nuggets of information that she could share with Adam. She'd heard a few things, but her gut told her that whatever was going on with the Tampa judge was the most critical piece of the puzzle—and she'd heard that with Adam standing next to her.

Locking the salon door, she went back to her office, opening the door slowly, not even sure if Adam was still there.

He was. Sitting with his feet on the desk, his hands locked behind his head, staring straight ahead.

"Just like old times," she said with a soft laugh. "Me finishing with a client and you alone in the back office, up to no good."

He turned and smiled. "I'm up to plenty of good." Then he stood slowly, reaching for her. "You look wiped out, honey."

The endearment melted her and so did the fact that he didn't pounce for more information. On a sigh, she dropped into a guest chair. "I got some things. Nothing like—"

"No." He crouched down next to her, getting face to face. "That's not what I want to talk about."

She inched back, finally focusing on his expression, which was different somehow. Without really thinking about it, she placed her hand on his cheek, feeling the roughness of his beard and the tension in his jaw.

"What's wrong?" she asked softly.

"Nothing. Everything. This situation…"

She frowned, not following. "Adam, what has you so deep in thought? I can practically feel the wheels turning…" She tapped her finger on his temple, then let it slide through some of the silver hairs there. "But I don't know where they're going."

He held her gaze, taking a slow breath. "There's only one place to go, Maddie. Only one answer, and it's so obvious, I can't believe we both didn't think of it."

"Really? You figured out another way to protect me and not live together so I don't have to lie to my family?"

He stared at her for a long time, three, four, five heartbeats that increased in intensity with each passing second.

"Adam? Do you think I'm not going to like this solution?"

"I don't know, but I need you to trust me and believe me."

"I do, now." She gave a soft laugh and dragged her hand from his cheek to his shoulder. "Isn't that a miracle? All those years of thinking the very worst of you, of locking you away and trying to forget and—"

"I love you, Maddie."

She sucked in a breath at the declaration. "Adam, I—"

He put his fingertips on her lips, quieting her. "I've always loved you," he added, as though nothing could stop what he wanted to say. "From the day you went careening across the loom line until the night I kissed you goodbye and knew I'd never see you again, I loved you. And now, half a lifetime later, I still love you."

"Oh…" It was all she could say as his words reached in and seized her heart, taking ownership of it whether she wanted him to or not.

"That's what I've been thinking," he admitted. "All this time while you were out there, helping her try on dresses, doing your job…and mine. For me. Because you care, and because you want to do the right thing. You're so good, Maddie. You're beautiful and spirited and clear-headed and good-hearted and—"

She leaned in and kissed him, the shower of compliments almost too much for her. "Thank you. I get it and I appreciate—"

"I want to marry you."

She stared at him, her jaw loosening.

"I do, Maddie. That's my solution, and it's brilliant. Let's get married. Right away, as soon as humanly possible. Then I'll move in, and nothing will be fake. Not our marriage, not what you tell your family, not the fact that I not only have to protect you twenty-four-seven, but it's also all I want to do with the rest of my life."

"Adam." She could barely say his name.

He stood and pulled her up with him. "Maddie, hear me out."

She couldn't hear anything but the drumbeat of her insane heart rate rattling her whole body.

He wanted to marry her?

"I'm almost fifty-one and you're going to be fifty," he said. "We have a lot of years left. As many as we lost. Shouldn't we spend them together? I don't see any reason to go through the business of dating for a year or two, doing everything along the prescribed timeline, when I love you and want to marry you now."

"Now?" she croaked.

"I know, you're overwhelmed, you're shocked. I was, too, when the idea hit me. But then I realized how right and obvious and perfect it is. We belong together, don't we?"

Speechless and not sure what she'd say if she could deliver a response, Madeline closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around him. She leaned into his strong chest as he hugged her, and listened to his heart beat as hard as hers.

She tried to think. Tried to process. Tried to understand that…Adam wanted to marry her!

And she wanted…well, him, of course. But did everything have to be so unorthodox and…not what she'd dreamed? No, there wouldn't be a dream dress and a sunlit church. No, there wouldn't be a first dance and cake cutting. And, no, there wouldn't be a row of Wingate bridesmaids.

But did any of that matter if she was the bride and he was the groom?

"What do you think?" he whispered in her ear.

She couldn't think. "I need…air. And time. And to get out of here and go home."

"Of course. All of that. Right now." He gathered her bag for her and the light jacket she'd worn, and ushered her out. They were both quiet while she locked the back door and took a few steps into the golden glow of the sun setting over the Amelia River.

"I walked to work," she said.

"My car's right there. I can drive us to your townhouse."

"I want to walk," she said, reaching for his hand. "With you."

"Okay." He smiled. "I guess that's not a no."

That made her laugh. "It is not. It's the cry of a woman who needs…"

"A walk," he agreed, guiding her toward the street. "And do you need anything else?" he asked after they started down Wingate Way.

"I…I don't know what I need."

He looked down at her, studying her intently, thinking again, then suddenly his eyes flashed.

"I know. I know what you need. I know exactly what you need." He tugged her down the first side street, heading toward the heart of town with purpose in every stride. "Come on, Maddie."

"Where are we going?"

"To seal the deal."

What? To the church? Where the heck was he taking her?

She couldn't help a breathless laugh as he practically dragged her toward Centre Street. She couldn't stop the joy from bubbling up in her heart. Maybe this wasn't the way she ever dreamed it would happen, but the truth was—she'd stopped dreaming.

Until Adam Logan came back into her life, and then the dreams started again. Girlish fantasies that every woman, no matter her age, couldn't help but have. About the day, the dress, even the engage—

"Here." He stopped at a storefront on the corner, gesturing toward it with a flourish.

She looked up and nearly swayed. "Worthington's Jewelry?"

He just smiled. "That's what you need."

"A run-in with Kitty Worthington, the town's biggest gossip and the head of the local business organization, who will tell everyone she knows if I walk into this store with you?"

He pulled her to the door. "I don't care if Santa Claus sells it to us, but you are not leaving this store without a ring on your finger." Opening the door, he ushered her inside. "Pick the one you love, Maddie."

She froze in the doorway and looked up at him. "I already have, Adam."

"Oh, Maddie." He hugged her and kissed the top of her head. "I love you."

She floated into the store and, of course, Kitty was working today. She came out from the back, peering through her gold-rimmed glasses and patting her helmet hair as she sniffed out what was happening.

"Madeline Wingate, as I live and breathe."

At least she could breathe. Madeline could barely inhale, her body was vibrating so completely.

"Here, Maddie." Adam brought her over to the large display of blinding diamond engagement rings, all nestled in black velvet, sparkling under lights that were made to get a woman to drool.

Madeline wasn't the drool-over-rings type of woman, was she?

Maybe a little.

"Do you like round? Square? Or that pear-shaped?" he asked as Kitty excitedly hustled right behind the counter to slide open the display.

"I like…" She looked up at Adam, aware that her eyes were full of unshed tears. "What you like."

"Well, I like you. No, I love you. And I think…" He leaned over the counter and tapped. "That one. The square-cut with two trillions."

"Excellent choice, Mr…." Kitty scowled, as if it were against her rules to sell an engagement ring to someone she didn't know.

"Yes," Madeline cooed, ignoring Kitty. "I love that one."

"Right. Can we try it on?"

Making a snide face because she still didn't know his name, Kitty spread a velvet cloth on the glass display case, then brought out the ring, laying it carefully in front of them.

"Beautiful." Adam picked it up in two fingers and held it out and, for a moment, Madeline actually thought she'd faint right there in front of Kitty Worthington. "What size is this, Mrs. Worthington?" he asked.

"Our standard size six, but I—"

"What do you wear?"

Madeline tipped her head to silently say she wore a six, and he reached into his pocket, pulled out his wallet, and put a credit card on the counter.

"We'll be right back," he said.

"Adam!"

He silenced Madeline by taking her hand and pulling her toward the door.

"Excuse me!" Kitty called. "There's a protocol for—"

Adam got her out in the late-afternoon sun glow in the middle of Fernandina Beach. He dropped to one knee, held the ring like an offering, and looked up at her.

The world officially tipped on its axis right then and she nearly went with it.

This was happening. Right now. Right here. Adam was proposing!

"Madeline Anne Wingate. I love you. I love everything about you, and all that I still don't know. Would you please complete my entire life by being by my side as my wife from now until the end of our days?"

She put her hands over her mouth, vaguely aware of some passersby who had slowed down to watch, along with Kitty, who'd come out but had the good grace to stay quiet. The whole world seemed to stop and wait for her answer.

But nothing came out of her mouth. She just stared down at his expectant eyes and tried to think of a single reason to say no. That it was too spontaneous for Madeline Wingate? That it was too thrilling and out of character and fantastic? That she didn't love him?

No, no, and no. It was wonderfully spontaneous, totally fantastic, and she loved everything about this man. She'd never stopped loving him, even when she'd hated him.

If she said no…she'd regret it for the rest of her life.

If she said yes…

There was no if. She had to.

"Yes, Adam. I would love to marry you."

When he slid the most beautiful ring Madeline had ever seen on her finger, a few strangers clapped and cheered. She clung to him, both of them trembling with the power of the moment. As they kissed, she had no doubt this was real and this was forever.

And when she looked at the tears in his eyes, she was certain he knew that, too.