Dirty Boy (40 page)

“Fair enough, but you won’t do yourself any good being in this place all alone, wallowing in your misery.”

Jimmy was right, so she nodded. “Dinner sounds great. But you’re on your own with the innuendoes. Not interested. Give me a minute to put myself together.”

“We roll in ten, Max,” Eric called, opening his office door long enough to impart that. They hadn’t had much to say to each other since Max had destroyed Story’s film.

It was Max’s first day back on set and his second day without Story. He couldn’t believe how much he missed her. He’d known he wanted her to stay,
needed
her to stay, but he hadn’t known how much until she’d walked away. Her absence had left him with a soul-crushing loneliness.

Last night, he’d gone and had dinner with his father and Barbra. All the contentment Winston had before his separation from his wife had returned. He was happy again, making Max feel like an even bigger ass for the position he’d taken with Story.

“Knock, knock,” Vista said, stepping into the room. “Hey, Max. Eric said you were looking a little tense. I came to get your mind into focus.”

Before she reached him, Max held up his hand to stop her. “Not right now.”

Disappointment crossed her face. “I’ve missed you.”

He frowned at her, irritated that she continued bothering him.

She sighed. “See you on set.”

“Max,” Ryker greeted, passing Vista to enter his office. He’d gotten the casts removed a couple of days ago, so it was his first day back at work too. “Can we talk?”

Max lifted a brow. “About?” If it had anything to do with his ass-kicking he wasn’t interested in hearing it. It was over and done with as far as he was concerned.

“The scene I shot.”

“Eric has been editing it. It’ll be released in ten days. If you need to know anything, talk to him.”

“Will I do more scenes anytime soon?”

He shrugged, not in the mood for business. “Yes.”

Ryker turned toward the door, sighed, then turned back to him. “Kelan’s on the way here.”

“I can’t seem to get rid of him. Does the fucker still practice medicine?”

“Eric called. There’s some type of emergency with one of the stage hands.”

“We should put him on payroll.”

“Heard from Story?”

“No, and I don’t want to talk about her.”

“Max, get the fuck on set,” Eric ordered. “We’re ready to roll.”

Instead of his usual anticipation, Max felt as if he were walking to his own execution. Once he climbed into bed with his costar, there’d be no going back. He would’ve made his choice. He could fool himself into believing a year wasn’t that long and he’d work to win Story back in twelve months. This was his do or die moment.

His performance at work was just that—a performance. He came, but he found no real pleasure. The kind that only Story could give to him.

“Come on! Fuck, Max. Where the fuck are you?” Eric yelled. “I need you here. In the present. Time is money!”

Just then, Kelan appeared, blood smeared on his blue scrubs. “One of the caterers accidentally sliced herself open,” he explained. “She needed stitches.”

“Explain later,” Eric said, scowling at Max.

He’d let Story go for a reason. He was afraid if he gave in on this that she’d run roughshod over him. If he walked away from the scene, wouldn’t that amount to the same thing? In her own way, she was controlling him with her insistence that he bow to her wishes.

Dropping his robe, he clenched his jaw. She’d made her decision. She couldn’t
force
him to her will.

“Your dick isn’t hard, Max,” Eric said with disgust.

“It’ll get hard, fucker,” he snapped. He had no problem with that. Whether he loved Story or not, his cock worked.

“I brought some Viagra in case you were too distracted to get it up,” Kelan said casually.

“Smart motherfucker,” Max grumbled, plopping down on the bed. The door to the female dressing room opened and his eyes widened.

A blonde with the biggest tits and longest legs he’d ever seen appeared. She smiled in his direction.

His cock stiffened immediately, knowing he’d soon fuck her and he grinned at the girl. Guilt slammed him and he froze. He was a healthy male and the woman stretching out next to him was fucking gorgeous. With Story or without her, he’d admire this woman and feel a passing lust.

The difference was if he touched her, he’d betray Story because he knew how she felt. He could fuck the blonde, party with her, but he’d end up alone in his bed. More than that, he’d end up without Story. He’d already been without her for two days. Going a lifetime without her was unacceptable.

He stood and headed off the set.

Eric’s eyes widened. “What the fuck are you doing, Maxwell?”

Max put his robe on. “I’m getting Story back, asshole.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake. You can’t bail now.”

“I’m not bailing. I’m winning.”

Kelan blew out a noisy breath. “It’s about fucking time. I’m about to go broke waiting for you to come to your senses. I’ll drive you to the airport.”

Max laughed, feeling as if a weight lifted from his shoulders. “Fuck off, asshole. I’ll use park and ride.”

It had been two and a half days since Story had returned to Dallas. The dinner with Jimmy had been all right, but she didn’t intend to see him anytime soon again. She needed time to mend her broken heart.

Yesterday morning, as she’d unpacked the second suitcase, she’d found a check from Dirty Boys Production Studios, made out to her for seventeen days’ worth of work. Based on the amount, Max had decided to pay her three thousand dollars per day. She’d earned the money so she intended to keep it and deposit it into her bank account to take care of all the outstanding bills she had.

After walking to a neighborhood burger place, Story returned to the quiet apartment, shaking her head at all the expensive appointments.

Adding extra ketchup to her burger, she’d just bit into it when the bell rang, a lingering, lyrical sound, typical of her mother’s over-the-top manner.

“Mom, what am I going to do with you?” she said under her breath as she glanced through the peephole. She gasped. “Max?” she squeaked, not hesitating to open the door. “Has something happened?”

He brushed past her and stopped in the living room. “Yes, Story.”

“Oh my God. Is it bad? It has to be for you to be here? Is it my mom? What’s happened?”

“You.”

The soft word cut into her panic and she stilled. “What?”

“You happened, sweetheart. It’s been two fucking days of hell. My house, my life,
me
…it’s all empty without you.”

“Max,” she whispered, her heart beating hard and fast. Kelan’s words came to her. He’d warned her Max would try and woo her back when she was at her weakest. It had been two days but she missed Max so much. “I miss you, too.”

“So come back with me.”

The word ‘yes’ tipped her tongue. “Max, the most I can do is tell you to contact me when you retire. If I’m available, we can talk.”

“Have you become unavailable in two days?”

“Um…”

“I’ve retired,” he announced, staring at her. “I walked off the set. I couldn’t do the scene. It felt like a betrayal to you. It would’ve been a betrayal to you and everything you mean to me.”

“Seriously?” she said, incredulous. Only the knowledge that Max never lied to her made it so easy to believe him.

“Yes.” He stepped to her and clasped her face between his hands. “I love you. For so long I rejected anything and everything good because of my wife and son. I refused to recognize my part in any of it. It took you walking away from me to realize that I was spurning love a second time for a career that will end at some point, anyway. I’ve had a good run but now it’s over. It’s time for me to move to the next chapter of my life. Please…” He swallowed. “I’m begging you. Please. Give me a chance to show you how important you are to me.”

Standing on her tiptoes, she wrapped her arms around Max’s neck and kissed him. “Yes, Max! Yes!”

The moment she said that, he stepped away from her and pulled a ring box from his jacket pocket.

Opening it, he dropped to one knee. “I’m not an easy man to live with,” he said. “But I love you and want to spend the rest of my life crossing swords with you, you stubborn little wench.” He lifted the ring out of the box. “Story Elizabeth Thornton, would you do me the great honor of becoming my wife?”

Story didn’t have to think about her answer. “Yes, Max,” she replied, crying at the sweetness of his words.

He slipped the ring on her finger before planting a kiss on each one of her fingertips, then stood up. “I love you. You’ve made me a very happy man.”

“Not happier than you’ve made me,” she responded.

She’d gone to L.A. to find a way out of debt and found her great love instead.

One Year Later

Max adjusted the bow tie of his tuxedo, contemplating the box he’d found in Story’s luggage. He hadn’t been searching her things. He’d been stuffing a little black nightgown into it. Whenever she wore it, it drove him insane. To fit it, he’d had to move some things aside and came across the gift box with his name on it. It was just big enough to contain a bracelet, which intrigued him. He wasn’t big on jewelry.

Without giving it much thought, he’d taken the box and hidden it, bringing it along with him to the hotel where he’d had his bachelor party. Now, it taunted him, as Kelan, Dominic, Ryker, Eric, Alan, and Win joked and teased him.

Unable to stand it any longer, he grabbed the box from where it sat and held it up.

“What’s that?” Kelan asked.

“A gift from Story to me,” he answered. “I found it amongst her things and took it.”

Alan gulped. “Without her permission?”

Max scowled. “It has my name on it.”

“Dude,” Kelan said, shaking his head. “It’s not yours until she gives it to you.”

“She’ll understand,” he grumbled, untying the ribbon and staring at the plastic stick inside. He held it up and saw the word ‘
pregnant’
in a little window. “Fuck, she’s having a baby.”

“You ruined her surprise,” Ryker observed.

Max barely heard the rest of the comments, his only thought that Story was finally pregnant. In between forming their corporation and making steps to bring pieces from Story’s clothesline to life, they’d discussed starting a family about eight months ago. She and Babs had repaired their relationship, and Story used her as the model she needed to bring her pieces to life from her concept boards. Max hadn’t known how much work went into clothing design. He was paying for courses, even as he funded the collection and hired a team to work with her. In the meantime, she’d promised to think about the idea, stopping her birth control two months later. After continual disappointments, Max thought they’d never start a family.

Before he thought about it, he opened the door and headed to the room where she was dressing. He’d rented a room for her and her mother, since the hotel was close to the church. He knocked on the door.

“Max, shoo!” Barbra demanded. “You can’t see Story.”

Lifting her out of the way, Max barreled in.

“Max!” Story screamed, dashing toward the bathroom and slamming the door shut, allowing him only a glimpse of the cream-colored gown she’d designed. “Get out. It’s bad luck to see the bride beforehand.”

“You’re pregnant.”

“Oh my God! You dickhead. You searched my stuff.”

“Not really,” he assured her, explaining how he’d come across the box.

Story sniffled. “I wanted to surprise you, Max.”

“I’m sorry, baby,” he told her. “I
am
surprised. I’m just…”

“You,” she said with a watery laugh. “A diehard control freak.”

He smiled then grew serious. “You’ve made me so happy. I love you.”

She cracked the door. Only her long-lashed green eyes were visible. “I love you, too.”

“How far along are you?”

“I think about five weeks.”

“Hey, fucker,” Kelan called. “Now that you’ve broken all the bridal rules, can we head to the church? You wouldn’t want to be late for your bride.”

Love and contentment settled into Max’s being. He’d been lost and alone until Story had come into his life. He’d spend the rest of his life cherishing her. He rarely went into the studio, allowing Ryker and Eric to take over. Max was involved in the day-to-day running of the business he and Story shared, and he also was working with his father on some business deals.

Max had never been more contented. Story had made him a better man…he thought of the tracking device on her phone and car because of the experience with Tico.

Well, sort of better, he amended. After all, as she’d said, he was still
him.