Thinking of his place makes me wonder if things will change now. Will I sleep in Cannon’s bed instead of alone in the guest bedroom every night?
No, I can’t get distracted with those sorts of thoughts. Right now, we need to concentrate on getting Conrad out of jail and my campaign up and running. There are commercials to shoot and more events to try and attend.
When Cannon comes out of the bathroom, he doesn’t even look at me as he goes and picks up the suitcase and the clothes he flung to the floor last night. It’s not like him to be this quiet either.
“Everything okay?” I ask.
“Yeah.”
“Can we drop their stuff off at the house so I can shower?”
“Sure.”
Great, he’s not giving me anything but one-word answers. I decide to give Cannon the benefit of the doubt that, once Conrad is a free man, he’ll be back to normal.
And if not then – I don’t want to even think about how I would feel if he says last night was just a one-night thing in the heat of passion. Because he and I both know it was more than that. Since the moment we met, the two of us have been heading for that climax, literally and figuratively.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Cannon
As soon as Madison gets a quick shower back at our house, I mean, my house — it’s my house, not ours — she calls the clerk of court and is told that Conrad’s bail hearing will be at ten.
The courthouse is packed, so the two of us take a seat on one of the benches and wait, and then wait some more.
I’m nervous as shit, my knee bouncing uncontrollably and my palms sweating, wondering how much the bail will be. What if I don’t have enough cash to get my brother out? Hannah and our parents will be fucking devastated.
The nerves make me want to reach over and hold Madison’s hand for comfort, which is insane. I’ve never had the urge to hold a woman’s hand before.
Okay, well, I did at one point in my life when I was young and naïve and thought that I was in love with Kimberly. That was before she left for college and gave me an ultimatum. But the two of us dated forever before I even considered that I may love her. Now I know that I obviously didn’t since I couldn’t do what she wanted and ask her to marry me.
I know I can’t possibly be falling in love with Madison when we’ve only known each other for about two weeks. So why am I even having that thought?
It has to be because of what happened last night. I wanted to kiss her and hold her as a distraction and in search of comfort, which she gave me in spades. If I had just fucked her, then I wouldn’t be having all these complicated feelings.
This is why I never sleep with a woman more than one night – to avoid caring about them.
Except, with Madison, I already worried about her and wanted to protect her before we had sex.
I think I may have royally fucked up, because I don’t just want her again, I think I’m starting to need her.
“How much longer is this going to take?” I exclaim in frustration.
“Shh,” Madison leans over and says before she places her palm on my thigh as if to calm me down. And goddammit, it works. It fucking works. One small touch from her, and I’m no longer anxious or pissed. God help me, but all I can think with the warmth of her hand soaking through my jeans to my skin is that being with her last night was the best night of my life and I wish I just meant the sex.
A man up front stands and speaks in legal gibberish and says Conrad’s name. My brother isn’t even in the courtroom, just a blur on the television screen in front.
“This is it,” Madison leans over to my ear and whispers, her breath breezing over my neck and making me shiver. “Don’t interrupt. Just listen, okay?”
I nod my agreement, and then she gives me sort of a layman’s translation on the play-by-play as everything goes down.
Apparently, Bailey has told the district attorney that he’s “terrified” that Conrad may come back to his house and kill him. Therefore, he’s asking for a restraining order and for the judge to declare that Conrad is a danger to the community; and that thanks to his connections with a biker ‘gang’, he says he may also be a flight risk. My brother is neither of those things; however, the judge agrees with the district attorney to give both sides a week to prepare to debate the issue before they appear before the judge for a full hearing.
“Shit,” Madison whispers and rests her forehead on my shoulder.
“What does that mean?” I ask her.
She lifts her head to look at my face. “I’m so sorry, Cannon. The judge isn’t going to set a bail today.”
“What? I thought you said he had to give him bail!”
“Shh,” she warns me again, placing her finger on my lips.
“Everyone must be given a reasonable bail, unless they’re determined to be a flight risk or danger to the community,” she explains softly. “In a week, there will be a hearing where the DA, the district attorney, says Conrad is either or both while his defense attorney tries to prove that he’s not.”
“How do you prove that he’s not something?” I ask in confusion.
“It’s not easy, that’s for sure,” she agrees when she stands up. “Come on, I want to talk to the attorney before he leaves.”
I follow behind her; and when she talks to Conrad’s attorney in the hallway, I only understand about half of what they’re talking about, which
