Shattered Hearts A MFM Love Story

~ ~ Maddy ~ ~

We chatted about everyday stuff whilst on the way to the bar. I was glad they hadn’t brought up our earlier conversation, apart from the obvious, embarrassing nature. I didn’t want to spoil our first official date.

Date. I kept having to repeat it. Still not believing I was dating two men.

Was it stupid—reckless? I’d always been a good girl. The apple of my parents’ eye, their precious daughter who could do no wrong—did no wrong and only ever wanted to make them happy. I did none of those things that I secretly envied my sister for.

But I was finished living to please them and would it be so bad to live a little recklessly? Have fun?

The smooth growl of Jackson’s truck cut out as he brought us to a stop. Logan hopped out, and I shifted across the seat to take his offered hand.

“Per your request, Princess,” said Logan, eyeing up the place.

The lineup. That was the bar's name. I had great memories of this place having been here once before. It was Riley Jo's last night in Lockwood before heading out to live her life and not our mama’s. I’d danced till my feet hurt with her and Connor.

“You sure ‘bout this place, Princess?’ asked Logan, his heavy brow lifting.

I nodded my head excitedly as my eyes swarmed over the building and instead of the customary butterflies, birds’ wings were flapping around. But Logan obviously had doubts.

“It’s gonna be busy.” His eyes flicked over to Jackson, who was locking up the truck and making his way around his truck.

And he wasn’t wrong. They had packed the place out with trucks and other vehicles. “Have either of you been here before?”

“Nope.” Logan shook his head. “I prefer somewhere less...” he paused, his eyes shifting to a couple who were exiting the main entrance, fetching the sounds from inside with them. “Quieter, bit more selective,” he finished.

Selective? What the hell did that mean?

“Righty. All set then?” Logan rested a hand on my lower back, guiding us toward the front entrance. Country music got so much louder the closer we came. And the smile on my face was threatening to split my face in two.

Jackson, now walking alongside us, was patting his pockets. “Everythin’ alright, Jackson?” Had he forgot something?

“You better not be expecting me to reach into my pockets, Jackson,” said Logan, but his tone was teasing.

Jackson laughed.

“Because if memory serves me right, brother, you owe me a few beers, more than a few!”

“Don’t you be frettin’ Logan. I’m good for it.”

It was nice to hear the easy banter between them. This morning, everything was strained, but with the air now cleared, it was more relaxed. When they were younger, they were close, not only brothers but best friends. Jackson had always been the jokester and light-hearted, loved playing pranks, and Logan was there to rein him in when he would go too far, always the more serious of the two. They balanced each other out.

Jackson opened the door, and we stepped inside. The bar was seriously busy. Swinging my head around, almost everyone had on cowboy boots and hats—well, the men, anyway. Couples were dancing, and I was in awe of their limber bodies moving to the music.

I glanced down, biting my lip. I might have been a little overdressed. The pale blue number hugged my slim frame and skimmed my knees, and I paired it with my strappy sandals.

Maybe I should have worn some jeans and boots? Not risk standing out.

Eyes travelled our way, but there was no way I was focusing on what might be in them. I knew what most of them thought of the Lockwood family. And tonight was about having fun. Enjoying our date and perhaps celebrating my freedom.

Logan walked in front of me and Jackson ran his hand around my waist, giving me a little squeeze. They both fit in. Calendar hunky like they’d just stepped out of one of those advertising campaigns for Wrangler. Both their muscular bodies were shown off to perfection and those snug jeans, damn. They could stop a girl’s heart. Jackson paired his with a white tee-shirt and Logan, his signature grey striped cotton dress shirt with a wide leather belt.

Sin on legs, the both of them and I could wax poetic about them, all night.

And crazily, they wanted me. Even with my issues, apparently. Because I knew without a doubt most of the women here tonight were looking our way. Guessin’ they wanted to take a bite right out of them.

Oh boy...

“Grab a table and I’ll get the drinks in.” Jackson motioned over to the far end of the bar, where it looked a little quieter. “What can I get you, Princess?”

What to drink? Honestly, I’d only sampled a few wines and champagne at my engagement party. But tonight I felt bold, wanting to rebel against everything my mama had preached—yeah, most likely three years too late. But heck, better late than never, as Riley Jo would say. “I’ll take a beer,” I announced, tilting my chin up in a challenge.

He cocked his head to the side, peering down as if I’d asked him to shoot someone or something else just as crazy. “Beer—you sure?”

I nodded. “What?”

“Nuthin. I just thought you would want some fancy wine or a city girly drink, that’s all.”

“City drink? How long have you known me, Jackson? I know nothing about any fancy city drinks.” I had visited Riley Jo out of state a handful of occasions, but we usually spent all our time in her apartment catching up as she tended bars mostly and didn’t want to spend her free time in one.

“Okay then. I’ll grab us a pitcher,” he said, pressing down to push his lips through my hair and brush across my ear. “No one in here holds a candle to you, beautiful.” My heart beat faster as I watched him walk toward the bar and Logan directed us to a long rustic table with a stiff-looking sofa that perhaps had seen better days. I didn’t remember it being here the last time I came. We sat down and before we’d muttered a word.

“Logan Reilly. How’s ya doin’?”

I turned to see a guy that looked slightly familiar towering over us, grinning. His eyes were bright green beneath his tan cowboy hat.

Logan’s smile came easily, and he rose from his seat and took the hand now being offered. ‘I’m doing’ fine. How ’bout yourself, Cade?”

Cade? Why did that ring a bell?

“What brings you to Lockwood?” Logan asked, sitting back down, sliding closer toward me even though there was lots of room on the sofa. Not that I would ever complain, enjoying his heat licking over me as I leaned into him.

“Rodeo, nearby, but thought I’d catch up with my family.”

Ah, yes, now I recognised him. Cade Grainger. He was some hotshot Rodeo star.

His eyes landed on me, and I smiled.

“Is this here your girl, Logan?” his smile widened.

“Heck yeah. You remember Maddy Lockwood?” He glanced toward me, his eyes warm as if he was getting a kick out of introducing me. “Maddy. You know Cade, right?”

I offered my hand. “Not personally, but it’s sure nice to meet you.”

“A Lockwood Princess, eh?” He slanted an eyebrow at Logan, who simply shrugged. “Trust me, darlin’ the pleasure is all mine.”

Lockwood Princess. That was how most folk of Lockwood Creek referred to me and my sister. Most of them also assumed I was just like my mama. But I’d never thought I was better than anyone else.

Logans stiffened beside me. But he didn’t need to worry about me having eyes for anyone else. Logan and Jackson occupied all my attention and most likely my heart, too.

“But what the hell are you doing roughin’ it with this one?” He gestured with his thumb at Logan. “Aren’t you married?”

He knew about that?

Logan jumped in. “Riley Jo, her sister, is married, expecting her first child.”

Cade nodded and thankfully, Logan switched the direction of the conversation. “You should swing by the ranch if you’re around for a few days—see what real work looks like. You know rope and pen for work—not show.”

“I might just do that,” Cade laughed, his green eyes twinkling. “I heard Jackson was on active duty. You hear from him?”

Logan flicked his chin up. “Not any longer. He’s back home.” Logan looked over my head. “Getting a round in as we speak.”

“Ah, well, I’ll stick around, and wait for him to come over.” His head flicked around. “Might as well sit my ass down.” He grabbed a chair resting his bottled beer on the table.

Zoning out of their conversation, I saw for myself what was taking Jackson so long. Scanning over heads, it didn’t take me long to find him. Him being tall and one of the few without a hat.

He was talking to the bartender, but that wasn’t what grabbed my attention. There was a hand on his arm, one with bright pink painted nails.

My entire body went on lockdown.

Ugh. Marley Munroe was standing right next to him, squeezing his bicep. I couldn’t see what she was wearing, but no doubt it would leave very little to the imagination.

And unfortunately for me, she hadn’t fallen out of the ugly tree. No, she was pretty with her perfect skin and sickening albeit fake perfect smile. She could easily give those Victoria's Secret models a run for their money.

I swallowed my distaste and perhaps a little green-eyed monster down.

In high school, Riley Jo referred to her as ‘queen bitch.’ She wasn’t wrong. She never used her acid tongue on my sister but made it her business to humiliate me whenever the situation allowed.

Jackson turned toward her and I sucked in sharply as I watched her giggle and even though I couldn’t hear it, it still grated on my nerves.

What the hell was so funny?

And why did she still have her hand on him?

And why was he letting her?

True, he seemed to stand a little awkwardly, but he could just move away. And my lips parted with a gasp when her hand moved up to rub her hand at the back of his neck.

Clamping my mouth shut. I gritted my teeth so hard they ached. It was a slight relief when he gripped her elbow, shifting her arm away. Even so, she sneaked a kiss onto his cheek. Undeterred, she continued to giggle, licking her thumb she rubbed his cheek, obviously trying to remove the tramp stamp she’d left behind.

Marking her territory.

I didn’t like it. In fact, I hated her for it.

Did Jackson see the pretty package for what it was? A willing body, no doubt? A demon masquerading as Little Miss Sunshine.

And as if he knew I was watching, he turned to find me. I flipped my head around so fast I gave myself whiplash.

Distracting myself, I turned to Logan. He and Cade were still chatting and joking around, and now two more guys had joined them. I could barely pay attention but managed a smile and a nod when he introduced me. The burning in my gut was doing a fine job of reminding me that Jackson still hadn’t returned.

Logan leaned in. “Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?” whispering in my ear as his hand planted itself on my thigh. My dress had ridden up a little when I’d sat down, high enough that his pinkie dipped beneath the hem, making it hard to ignore when he moved his fingers slowly back and too, sending a wave of goosebumps up both arms.

“I think I remember you saying something along those lines.”

“Here we are.” Jackson dropped a tray with a pitcher and glasses down. His eyes lit up when he spotted Cade. “Cade Grainger. Long time.”

Jackson was shaking Cade’s hand and clapping him on the shoulder as I plucked a glass from the tray and filled it from the pitcher. Not waiting and most likely a little rude, I brought the glass to my lips and drank. Ewe. Not the best-tasting thing, but not the worst either.

Emptying the whole glass without taking a breath, I felt Logan’s hand squeeze my thigh. “Easy there, Princess. You’ve not had a lot to eat. This stuff can go to your head pretty damn quick.”

Swallowing. I sucked in air, almost feeling out of breath. “I’m good.” I reassured him but couldn’t deny feeling a little warmer, but that might be his hand caressing my skin in the most delightful way that had my body temperature rising.

Jackson sat down, scooting closer, his much bigger body crowding me in a way that was much too pleasant for how I was feeling about him right now. His hand came to rest on my other thigh, sending tingles up my leg and heating places that should not be getting warmer.

He stared at my empty glass like it was doing him personal harm. “Guessing you were thirsty, huh?”

I huffed. “Guessin’ I was.” I replied flatly, not looking at him. But with him and Logan resting their hands and pressing their thick thighs on either side of mine, it was making it difficult to remember why I was angry at him.

He leaned in, running his lips next to my ear, not missing a beat. “Everything okay, Maddy?”

No. I turned to find him staring at me, or rather into me, if that made sense. Like he was analysing me and it was a little unnerving as he already knew all my secrets. My eyes snagged on the smudge of lipstick left behind.

“She missed some, you might want to go wash that off.” I didn’t even try to hide my snippy attitude.

Jackson never flinched. “Are you jealous?” Dragging his hand across his cheek, but it was his smirk that wound me up a little tighter.

“Ugh!” I heard myself growl. “You think it’s okay to let a woman paw you like that, Jackson?” I refused to answer his question, but it was impossible to deny the feelings that were making me squirm.

“Baby—” he started.

Had he called her baby? He’d never called me that before? But damn if I didn’t like it. Curse him.

And I knew I was being crazy. Looking away from him, he was quicker, catching my chin between his finger and thumb, turning me to face him.

Dark eyebrows rose. “Trust me, you don’t need to be. You’re the only woman I think about. Care about.” He smiled and it just had to be his panty-melting smile.

Oh yeah, both he and Logan had an array of smiles. Just like their kisses they scaled from knee wobblers to raging infernos, and sadly, I wasn’t immune to either.

But I wasn’t done on the subject. I had more to say. “Well, perhaps the next time a woman lays a hand on you, you might want to remove it straight away.” My eyebrows arched. “Because I’m sure if it was the other way around Jackson Reilly, you would damn well have something to say about it.”

Understanding fell across his handsome face, his dark brows slanted inward. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

My tummy and my heart fluttered. Wow! Who knew a man apologising could be hot?

“And I don’t deny it, Princess.” His thumb feathered across my bottom lip. “Apart from my brother’s hands, all bets are off when it comes to another man. I’d throttle them with my bare hands just laying a finger on you.” His eyes dipped to my mouth. “I ain’t losing this chance you’ve given us.”

There’s something else in his eyes and a question I’ve spent a long time wondering about just popped out. “Why did you leave Lockwood?”

My question surprised him. “Being a farm boy was never the life I wanted, but it was all I knew and it just came to a point that I couldn’t breathe any longer. And seeing as I had nothing to keep me here. I left.”

As simple as that. I envied him and Riley Jo for being able to leave. Freedom. “But you came back—why?”

His eyes became heavy, and his shoulders dropped a fraction.

There’s something he wasn’t sharing.

“Because I found something worth staying for.” I didn’t think that was a lie. But it wasn’t the whole truth, either. “How’s ’bout that dance now?” he asked and if I didn’t know any better, I might think he was trying to distract me.

Did I want to dance with him? The jealousy and anger from moments ago dimmed.

Yeah, I did.

I’d picked this bar because of the dancing. Lifting my head, I listened to the lyrics of the song playing. It’s an upbeat tune...Real Good Man by Tim McGraw. One of my favourites, although at heart I was a die-hard Swiftie.

“I have to warn you, I have two left feet.” That wasn’t a lie. Something else that Riley Jo had been gifted, and I hadn’t. Co-ordination.

His deep chuckle rumbled. “I’m willing to take my chances, Princess.”

Logan was still chatting and laughing with his friends and nodded when we told him we were heading out to dance.

Weaving through people with my hand in Jackson’s, we were on the very edge of the dance floor. People were staring at us as I looked around. Damn. The women in Lockwood hadn’t learned how to kill with their eyes, but it wasn’t stopping them from trying. Especially Marley Munroe. She looked ready to spit feathers.

But she wasn’t spoiling my fun. I was gonna shimmy till my heart’s content, even with my two left feet!

“Show me your moves, baby.” Jackson whispered, pulling me into the two-step position, laying his hand on my waist, and I casually ran my hand over his shoulder as his fingers wrapped around my hand. A quick pep-talk and I went with the flow.

It shouldn’t have surprised me Jackson was a good dancer, like my nana used to say, smooth like butter. And he used every inch god gave him to show off.

Me, as predicted, fumbled and giggled my way through that song and two more, but was proud that I only stood on his feet a handful of times. Not that Jackson minded.

Another song and I was hot and a little breathless, pressing a hand to my chest. “Time-out?”

“I could do with a drink.” He nodded, and we headed back to our table to join Logan.

Sandwiched between them. Logan nuzzled his lips into my hair, kissing the side of my head. “You looked good out there. Sexy.”

How much had he had to drink?

Giggling. “I think I lacked any poise or finesse.”

“Well, I couldn’t take my eyes off you.”

His words warmed my heart. Logan was always so sweet to me.

“They better never ask me to do a rain dance because my skills would cause a drought for sure!” I giggled.

“You wanna take a turn with me?” he asked.

“Sure. Let me get my breath and a drink. My throat’s as dry as sandpaper.”

I helped myself to another glass of beer and weirdly it didn’t taste as bad this time round.

“Slow down there,” said Jackson as I poured out my third glass.

“What? Can’t a girl just relax and have a good time?”

“Yeah, but drinking it down like soda will only lead to either me or Logan holding your hair back whilst you throw it all back up. Trust me. You don’t want that.”

That was an image I could live without, but right on cue. I needed the restroom. Not to throw up. Nature called. “I’m gonna have to ask you to move.”

Jackson shifted. “What? You feel sick? Now!?”

I shook my head and hiccuped. “No silly. But I think it went straight through me.”

Making my way through the bar. I smiled at everyone who looked my way, trying to be the complete opposite of how my mama would be in a social setting. Finally reaching the restroom, I pushed open the door.

Wow. A multitude of smells assaulted me. It was like walking into Mary-Beth’s perfumery. And just like the bar, it was quite busy with women chatting, laughing and applying fresh layers of lipstick and spraying on more perfume. It was a little choking if I was honest.

Seeing an empty stall, I shifted around the heavily scented room. Until someone stepped in front of me. Well, it was a pair of breasts that almost had me stumbling backward. “Excuse me.” I looked up.

Marley Munroe.

She dropped a glance over my dress, her mouth turning downward before she dragged a disparaging look over my dress.

I didn’t understand why my choice of outfit seemed to offend her.

“If you wouldn’t mind. I need to get to the empty stall behind you.” I was polite.

She cocked her head, her bouncy red hair falling over one shoulder dramatically. “Look who’s dared to grace us with her presence tonight?”

Heads turned our way and two of Marley’s friends, who I recognised, pitched on either side of her. Arlene with her long face and droopy eyelids and Josey with her mane of sleek black and overly smiling face.

“I just want to go to the bathroom. If you could please move.” I stepped forward, but they didn’t shift.

“What brings a Lockwood Princess to mingle with the locals?”

“Just like you, Marley. I’m here to enjoy myself.”

"Oh,” she said. “We all saw you out there. You call that dancing, honey?” She flicked her hair. “The patience of that man.” she scoffed, passing a look between her two friends, who snickered.

Gods, this was just like high school all over again, and anger spiked my heart to pound against my chest.

Her bony hand came toward me, stroking my hair as if I was a dog. I jolted back.

“And what a cute hairstyle. Your mama must be so proud,” she sneered. “And isn’t it just like you to wear a dress like that?” she waved a manicured finger over me. “You think you’re better than everyone else.”

I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks. And maybe it was the beer talking, but I let my eyes slowly drag over her cheap clothes. Her short denim skirt resembled a belt. “We all don’t have the luxury of shopping at Walmart.” I feigned a look of sympathy. “And I hope you don’t catch pneumonia in that skirt of yours.” Shrugging with a sigh. “But I guess it’s not your fault. You just don’t know any better.”

She sharpened her nails, leaning a little closer as if she was going to whisper, but spoke loud so everyone heard. “At least I know how to satisfy a man, honey.”

Because she’d had enough practice. I’d wanted to say but chickened out as everyone seemed to turn around to pay attention.

Anxiety knotted in my stomach, whilst shame filled my heart.

“I’m guessing it’s true what’s going around seeing as you’re here with the Reilly boys, tonight.”

My eyes flared wide, and fright whizzed along my spine. “Pardon?”

“That husband of yours threw you out because there’s something wrong with you.” She reared back and with her fake laughter, she looked between her two skanky friends. “What was it he said, girls?” She pressed a finger to her mouth and cocked her hip. “Oh yeah. Frigid. Ice, has nothing on you, honey.” She hummed. “Yea, I think that’s what he said.”

Oh. My. God.

The women surrounding me smothered their laughter and a sharp pang of humiliation crushed my spirit and every bit of confidence I’d had a moment ago emptied and if I stood here much longer, either my bladder or my stomach would quickly follow.

“Move.” I pushed through them and rushed toward the empty stall, shutting the door and locking behind me. Hands shaking, I leaned against the door, resting my head, squeezing my eyes shut to stop the prickle of tears.

“Don’t you be long in there now. Or else someone might snap up those fine men,” she cackled.

What in god’s name had I ever done to that woman?

I pushed off the door and got on with emptying my bladder. I hoped by the time I was done, they would have gone. But that was wishful thinking. Finishing my business, they were still chattering.

A knock on the stall door.

“Jackson Reilly is a goddam stallion in the bedroom and I should know. You think you’re gonna keep him happy?” Her tone was mocking, and I wanted to slap the smugness right out of her.

“The novelty of dating a Lockwood Princess will wear off.” Her friends giggled. “I mean, you haven’t changed much at all from high school.”

What was she talking about?

“Still sporting those bee-stings you call breasts.”

I stepped back from the door. Why couldn’t they just leave me alone?

“And you know they like to share, right?” She paused for dramatic effect. “But there ain’t enough of you to share.”

More laughter erupted. The lot of them sounded like a hoard of cackling hyenas.

“I’ve got no doubt he’ll come knocking on my door soon enough.” She scraped her fingernail down the door. “I might just give him my number, seeing as he asked so politely earlier.”

No. He didn’t. Did he?

“You have a good evening now.” I heard the shuffling of feet or hooves. “C’mon, girls.”

I breathed deeply, but could still hear whispers from the other women using the facilities. But I couldn’t hide in here all night. With shaky hands, I ran them over my dress and then held my head high and unlocked and opened the door.

Washing my hands, I didn’t look in the mirror, not wanting to see any looks of pity. Grabbing a paper towel I dried my hands but looked up sharply when I felt a hand on my arm.

“Hey. Ignore them. They’re just jealous because you’re much prettier than they are.”

It was Jeannie Lakes. I knew her from high school, although we didn’t travel in the same circles. Jeannie was much smarter than me but suffered at the hands of Marley and her friends, too.

I smiled at her. “Thank you, Jeannie. It’s nice of you to say.”

“Don’t let them spoil your night, Maddy.”

The damage was done. I was ready to go home. I headed out, only to have my jaw drop. No, literally, it hit the floor, and I had to pull it back and plug it back onto my face like one of those cartoon characters I watched growing up. Okay, maybe not ‘literally.’

That witch, Marley, was sitting between Jackson and Logan, but that wasn’t the worst part. No. Her mouth was on Jackson’s.

You’re the only woman I think about. Care about.

Those were his words. Well, Screw you, Jackson Reilly.

Spinning on heel. I pushed my way toward the exit, but only when I got outside I ran into another headache.

Did someone hate me up there? I gulped.