Page 51 of Sweet Madness

The crackling noise of a fire breaks through my thoughts, making me turn. My eyes settle on the familiar stone circle where Mom occasionally built a fire pit for nights like this. To my surprise, a small bonfire crackles in the center, its flames flickering and dancing around me, illuminating the night much like the fairy lights. The wood burns brightly, sending sparks spiraling into the air like tiny fireflies dancing in sync. The past and present collide and hit me at once. Painful memories of the past haunt me while thoughts of the girl who made this happen bombard my mind, fighting everything that hurts me. Thoughts of her flood every dark corner of my mind with her pure light.

Shit. Why her?

I keep asking the same question and yet can’t come up with a logical answer.

I take a deep breath and exhale slowly as I gaze up at the sky, illuminated by the stars and moon above. It truly is one beautiful sight.

Then a noise diverts my gaze, settling deeper into the garden on a makeshift fort made with white sheets and scattered with numerous pillows. Fairy lights hang from every corner of the fort, illuminating it from within and without.

For a moment, I stand there in awe, struck by the sheer beauty of the sight before me. I’ve spent every summer here on this ranch, and not one of them ever felt quite like this one, and it’s all because of her. It’s all this girl who seems to turn everything she touches into magic.

Stepping closer, I realize the fort is carefully arranged, with cushions set up for seating. It’s evident she’s planned every detail meticulously, as if it’s meant to be a safe place. An escape of some sort.

I wonder if that’s what she thinks of this place—of my ranch? Does it feel like an escape to her? A safe place?

Taking another long, deep breath, I approach the twinkling fort quietly, sure of who I might find inside. As I peek through the fort’s entrance, I see her sitting amidst the pillows, singing a pop song I can’t escape because it’s all over the radio, as she patiently arranges tiny bowls of red candy, popcorn, and sodas on top of a wooden tray.

She is in a world of her own while I stand back and watch her. The soft glow from the fairy lights inside the fort highlights her features gently, casting an angelic aura around her. I almost smile when I see she wears pink pajamas adorned with tiny Saturn prints, the celestial patterns twinkling in the soft light. The cute pajamas hug her body delicately while a pink headband nests in her hair. Curly locks frame her bare face, giving her an air of effortless and natural beauty. Fuck, is she a beauty. I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone quite as beautiful as her.

She not only has curves that make my mouth water, even when hidden under loose clothing, but also a face that most men would go to war for. Her soft nature and addictive smile could drive a man to madness.

I’m that man, and I’m fucked because of it.

I smile when I notice her feet clad in strawberry-shaped slippers, their plush forms peeking out from beneath the hem of her pajama bottoms. I watch her with a sense of wonder, like a kid gazing at gifts under the tree on Christmas morning.

And at that moment, I understand why so many people are enamored with this girl. It’s not just her outer beauty that holds me captive, but the quiet confidence and inner radiance that make Ellaiza Kenton otherworldly. The goodness in her heart is rare, and it scares the fuck out of me as much as it intrigues me.

Startled by my sudden appearance, she jumps slightly and turns to see me standing there. A mix of confusion and amusement crosses her face. “Oh, shoot!” she exclaims, laughter bubbling up as she realizes who it is. “You scared me.” Her expression is light, her eyes sparkling, and her cheeks flushed with pink.

So. Fucking. Pretty.

I clear my throat and step closer. “I didn’t mean to startle you. What’s all this?” I ask, gesturing around at the garden adorned with lights and then at the fort.

She smiles, a hint of mischief dancing in her eyes. “Surprise movie night,” she explains, patting the space beside her invitingly. My eyes are drawn to her pink-painted nails. Just days ago, they were white, but now they’re a shimmering pink. Huh. “I wanted to thank you for allowing me to keep Poppy here during my stay.” I shift my gaze from her delicate hands to her face. She looks down at her hands, clearly embarrassed.

My chest squeezes at the sight.

“Ella.” I squat down to her level. “Give me your eyes.” The words slip out before I can think better of them.

She lifts her head and gives me those blue eyes that confuse the fuck out of me. For a moment, I wonder what it would be like to get lost in them—to get lost in all that is Ellaiza Kenton.

“You don’t have to. It was a stupid idea,” she says, her shoulders sagging.

“I’ve told you before. You don’t have to thank me, princess.”

Her gaze pierces me, leaving me breathless. “But you’re so kind.”

I scoff at that. “That’s one thing no one will ever accuse me of being.”

Her blue eyes darken, if that’s even possible, and she whispers fiercely, “But you are to me.”

“To you.” I deadpan.

A soft gasp escapes her pink lips. “And why is that?”

Silence falls between us as our eyes lock.

I don’t say anything. I don’t tell her that I’m making my best effort to treat her with kindness and patience, something I don’t offer anyone else because she is… different.