Maddox P.O.V

My hand freezes over my laptop keyboard as my cell phone alarm goes off, slightly startling me. Before the noise could grow to blaring levels, I set my computer on the couch beside me and grabbed it off my glass coffee table. Seeing the reminder on the screen, I quickly hit print.

It is half past five. And almost time for me to meet my client, Mrs. Burke. Well, the soon-to-be ex-Mrs. Burke after I reveal the findings from my investigation.

And I'm not exactly buzzing with excitement for the encounter. This was going to be messy. It always was when kids were involved.

Maybe I should've stuck with my decision to decline the job when she'd contacted me a few months asking for my help to escape her loveless marriage. But I didn't because I'd had some free time on my books. Plus, I'd thought this would be an open-and-shut case since she'd suspected him of infidelity and proving it would be enough to break their ironclad prenup so she and her kids didn't wind up without anything once they split.

But it wasn't. Those first few weeks I'd tailed Mr. Burke, he'd seemed like the epitome of a perfect husband until I dug deeper and uncovered his secrets.

All of them. Only now, I'm not so keen to share them.

Because I doubted Mrs. Burke imagined her husband's affair would be with his golf instructor, Paul.

And the multiple explicit photos I captured at the Klover Motel would probably break her beyond repair.

And if not, him losing half their savings on crypto would.

This was going to be hard to watch, but I had to go through with it. She deserves better, and so do their kids.

Seeing half of the printed pages lying in the tray, I strip off my t-shirt and head to my room in exchange for another. I'm halfway there when a knock sounds at the door.

I go and answer it, and to my surprise, Francesca is standing there decked out in an all-black outfit with her long dark hair falling in loose curls around her shoulders.

It's been two weeks. Two long weeks since we've last seen each other, but I can't complain when she shows up looking this good.

Her dark brown irises gleam underneath the fluorescent lighting as they travel the length of my body twice before returning to meet my gaze.

"He-" She presses her lips against mine, cutting off the rest of my greeting.

Slightly caught off guard, my lips remain pliant for a brief moment before I kiss her back with just as much enthusiasm. A distant door slam followed by approaching footsteps forces us into my apartment quickly. We laugh off the situation in between kissing and heading to my sectional couch. But as soon as her back touches it, all traces of humor vanish.

A breathy moan escapes Francesca's lips as I lavish kisses along the smooth skin of her neck. She tilts her head and raises her hips, pressing deeper into me. Blood rushes to my rapidly thickening length at the feel of her warm curves. Unable to hold back any longer, my hands find the buttons of her shirt. And just as I slip the first one free, her hands come down upon mine, stopping me in my tracks.

"Wait, wait." She says.

"What's wrong?" I ask, pulling back a bit to look at her face.

"Nothing. I just need to tell you something."

"Right now?"

"Yes."

"Can't it wait?" I try again, lightly sucking her earlobe into my mouth to coax her into continuing. After all, she'd started this.

"No," She nudges my shoulder hard enough to create space between us and slips out from underneath me.

Begrudgingly, I take a seat beside her while she straightens her clothes.

"Okay." I drawl, grabbing my previously discarded t-shirt off the floor and laying it across my lap to hide my semi. "What is it?"

"I..." She tucks her legs underneath herself and redoes the button on her shirt. "I've been offered a position at the hospital downtown."

I wait a beat for her to continue, but she doesn't. "Okay, you've been offered jobs in the past, so what makes this one different?"

"The difference is I'm considering taking it. And that means my reason for wanting to keep things casual between us will be gone."

Her job as a traveling nurse allowed her to visit different places while doing what she loves, but constantly being in a new location for any period made it difficult to form long-term relationships.

Plus, past hurt made her reluctant to pursue anything serious with me. Or anyone, for that matter, since her last relationship five years ago. I didn't know all the intimate details except she'd returned home to find her ex in bed with someone else. And that was enough to put her off relationships of any kind. But now it seems she's willing to try again. And with me.

"So doing things normal couples do will no longer be off the table. Like, go on dates, vacations, celebrate holidays tog..."

"Yes, yes, all of that." She grabs my forearm with both hands. "That is if you want to."

I look over at her, but the hopefulness and fear lurking deep within her gaze force my eyes to the floor. "Y-yeah, yeah."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," I say more firmly, looking back at her. "I'm just wondering why now? We've been off and on for almost two years now."

I don't know if a perfect label to describe what Francesca and I have exists. Friends with benefits would be the closest, but even that felt wrong, somehow. The lines we'd established early on had gotten blurred over time. But either way, now it seems she wants to put a definite label on it.

"The truth is..." She places one of the throw pillows on her lap and absentmindedly flicks the tag. "I've been thinking about it for a while now. And once this job offer came up, I figured everything was finally falling into place."

I take her hand in mine as a smile spreads across my face. "Okay, so tell me more about this job."

"Can we talk over dinner?"

"Dinner? We've never done that before."

"Stop." She laughs, playfully slapping my chest. "We have had dinner before."

"Grabbing takeout and eating back at my place doesn't count."

A deep flush darkens her light brown cheeks as she smiles bashfully. "Well, now we can. So how about it?"

"Yes... No... I mean... I would love to, but I'm running late for a meeting with my client."

"Oh, okay. Another time then?"

"Yeah, I'll text you and let you know."

She starts to respond, but someone knocks at the door.

"Are you meeting your client here?" She asks as I slip on my shirt while walking to the door.

"No. At my office." I crack the door open a bit and look out. Grayish-blue eyes, similar to my own, meet mine through the opening. "Mom?"

"Hi, baby!"

I open the door wider for her to pass through, and as she does, she kisses my cheek on the way by.

"W-what are you doing here?"

"I just stopped by to bring you some leftover barbecue your father cooked the other night." She says, lightly shaking the containers in her hands. "I don't know why he insists on fixing so much. It's only the two of us at home."

"Because it wouldn't be a barbecue with only a few pieces of meat on the grill."

"Now you're starting to sound like your father, honey. I swear he cooks enough to feed the entire neighborhood!" She sighs softly, brushing a stray lock of blonde hair out of her face. And even though she's complaining, there's a smile on her face and a lightness to her voice. "But...He's been like that for the past thirty years we've been married, and I doubt he'll change anytime soon."

"No, he won't. And you wouldn't have it any other way."

Her smile brightens as a pinkish tint stains her lightly tanned cheeks, but she stays quiet.

"Have you given Sherri some?"

"Yes, your sister has already received her fair share. And she asked me to deliver Scarlett's invitation to her wedding. But she wasn't home."

"Really?" I glance down at my wrist to check the time on my watch, only to find it's empty. "She must've gotten held up at work."

"That's what I thought, so will you give it to her when she arrives?"

"Sure." I take the white envelope off the containers and set it on the coffee table.

"Were you on your way out?" My mother asks, noticing Francesca gathering her purse off the floor.

"Yes. I'm meeting a client in a few minutes."

"Okay, I won't keep you. Just let me put these away."

"Do you need some help, Mrs. Cross?" Francesca asks.

"No, no, I got it." My mother barely spares her a glance as she disappears inside the kitchen, leaving Francesca and me alone. I start to follow her, but Francesca grabs my hand. "Wait. Should I..." Her voice trails off, and I wait a second for her to continue, but she doesn't.

"What?"

She hooks her thumb over her shoulder toward the door.

"No. Just wait here. And we'll head out together."

"Okay."

I kiss her on the forehead before going after my mother. Inside the kitchen, she is setting the containers into the refrigerator, but her head pops up over the door when she hears me enter.

"You're still seeing Francesca."

"Yep."

"Oh, I thought things were over between you two."

"Why would you think that?"

"Because you haven't brought her to see your father and me or mentioned her in a while."

"That's because..." I glance over at the doorway, checking that it's empty before lowering my voice. "I know you don't like her."

My mom whips around with one hand on her hip. "I do so. She's pretty, smart, and has an excellent job."

"But?"

"No buts."

I scoff and swipe one of the barbecued wings from the container. It's cold, but that's never stopped me before."Yeah, right. We both know that's not true. So you might as well go on and say it."

"Say what?"

"That you don't think she's the right girl for me."

She sucks in her cheeks and spins back around.

"See. I knew it. It's practically written all over your face that you disapprove of our relationship and want us to break up."

She turns back to face me, and I expect her to deny it, but what comes out is, "Can you blame me? What mother in her right mind would be okay with her son being in an off-and-on relationship?"

"None," I mumble through a mouthful of chicken.

"Exactly! Now I apologize for not hiding my true feelings better, but I would be lying if I said I didn't wish you were in a more committed relationship. I mean, is she seeing other people..."

"Mom..." I step closer, a clear warning in my tone, but my mom isn't easily deterred.

"Or are you?"

"Mom..." I take another deep breath and glance at the door again, making sure we are still alone. But the empty doorway does little to ease my building anxiety. This was hell. Delving into the intimate details of my relationship wasn't a conversation I thought I'd ever have in my kitchen. Let alone with my mother.

Francesca is literally in the next room. And that piece of hardwood separating this room from the next wouldn't obliterate the chances of her overhearing our conversation.

But that aside it felt downright disrespectful to be discussing our relationship anyway. Because I knew my mother wasn't only doing this because she cared but instead searching for reasons to solidify why Francesca and I shouldn't be together. "That's our business."

"I know. But heaven forbid if you guys are... condoms alone won't protect you. And sexually transmitted diseases aren't attractive, honey." She goes into her purse, and I half expected her to pull out one of those health pamphlets that they used to give us in Sex Education back in high school or, hell, a bottle of holy water. But instead, it's just a stick of gum.

"Sexu..." I pinch the bridge of my nose and let out a deep breath. "Mom, do you really think I'd put myself at risk like that?"

"No." She pops the gum in her mouth and chews it a few times. "But just be careful."