To the Max (11 page)

His face brightened. “Yep. I’m so going to spoil him or her. I love kids.”

“You want children of your own?” she found herself asking.

“Of course. Why do you look so surprised?”

Annie shrugged. “I don’t know. You’re a…player.” As it left her mouth, she realized how stupid it sounded, and she blushed.

“I date, sure, but when the right woman comes along, in a decade or so, that will be over. I want kids, a family, a white picket fence. Well, a Victorian blue one,” he corrected with that roguish smile of his. “Do you have any siblings? Or a big family from your dad’s side?”

“No, but I have a string of colorful stepmothers,” Annie admitted. “Foreign. Domestic. You name it, I got it. After my parents divorced, my dad married a woman who convinced him that making her sign a prenup meant he didn’t love her. So of course he relented, and
ka-boom
, in several years he had to pay through the nose in the divorce. He seemed to learn, because he made his third wife sign the prenup. Then, as things started going south, she managed to get pregnant, and voilà, she had my father by the balls again. Still has, even though she miscarried in the fifth month years ago. Guilt is a powerful thing.” Stupidity too, she thought, but kept it to herself. “His fourth wife was even younger than me. No English skills whatsoever. Obviously, her other skills were plentiful. How they met is anybody’s guess. The current one, Barbara, is somehow better. She’s still twenty years younger than him and bleeding him dry, but she’s pleasant and seems to care for him.”

“Some character, your dad.”

Yeah, that was a polite way to put it. And with her mother several states away, Dad was her immediate family. Boy, were she and her baby screwed.

Max seemed to understand what she was thinking, because he reached for her hand and squeezed it.

“Come on. I’ll give your puzzle a go. But if in half an hour I’m ready to hang myself, we’ll watch a movie.”

“Deal,” she said.

In fifteen minutes, they were microwaving popcorn and turning the flat screen on.

Chapter Six

Max entered Haddican’s, the local gym, and barely recognized the place. “Wow! This is…”

He felt a big presence beside him. “Insane,” Mike finished.

“No shit,” Max mumbled, staring at the flood of people, mainly women in skimpy sports bras and all-but-see-through yoga pants.

“Kyra’s classes were popular before. Now, since they placed second in the hip-hop contest, they’re off the charts. Between the women from town, the strippers from Bottoms Up, Amantis’s dance crew practicing the choreography for their next video, and Alexa’s security staff coming to train here, this place is total chaos. Not to mention since my grandmother and her goons took out that guy with their ninja skills, every senior lady—and I mean literally every senior lady in Alden—has signed up for the self-defense classes.” As Mike turned to look at Max, he whistled. “Man, with that hair, you’re going to fit in perfectly. Why are you back so early?”

“Some bullshit with the studios. Filming got postponed. Listen, I’m sorry I wasn’t here to help you with all that shit with Kyra’s ex.” Max and his brothers had known Mike forever. The thought that when he’d needed them, no one had been in town didn’t sit well with Max.

“Don’t worry. Cole and James already apologized. About what, it’s not clear, seeing as Cole was in Texas on a consultation, James was in Florida, you were in LA, and none of you are clairvoyant. Besides, do you see that mountain of a guy with his face tattooed?”

Max followed Mike’s gaze. “The one destroying the punching bag?”

Mike nodded. “Wata, Alexa’s husband and head of security. He and Alexa’s brother helped me take the fucker down.”

“Good.” It was a relief to know someone had had Mike’s back.

“By the way, do you know that there’s a woman living in your place?”

Max laughed. “Yep.”

“Is she going to keep living there now that you’re back?”

“Yep,” he repeated.

He enjoyed having Annie there. This morning, after two days of weekend Annie with her yoga pants, her somewhat crazy hair, and her relaxed attitude, the corporate forensic accountant had resurfaced. Max had been sitting on the counter, eating breakfast, when Annie had come down the stairs, all dressed up in an elegant pink suit, the skirt just above her knees, the jacket cutely shaping her figure, barely showing a glimpse of lacy white blouse under it. Her hair had been up in a tight bun again. Pearls had adorned her slender throat. She’d been ready to start her week. Apparently in her workplace, they took personal offense at their employees wearing jeans.

“What smells so good?”

Still sitting on the counter, he’d pointed at the plate on the kitchen island.
“Bacon and scrambled eggs. Dig in.”

“Thanks, so sweet, but I’m late. I’ll take a couple,”
she’d said as she grabbed a napkin and placed several strips on it. Then she’d taken a bite of one and wiggled her eyebrows.
“What are you up to today? Any boobs to enhance?”

“No, but I’ll call in. Let them know I’m back. You never know when my magic skills will be necessary.”

He’d still heard her laughter as she’d left for work.

“That’s going to give rise to some interesting gossip,” Mike said, taking Max out of his reverie.

“Since when are you interested in gossip?”

“I’m not, but look around. We’re being overrun by women. Yesterday I was in line to get water from the machine, and you wouldn’t believe what I had to listen to. Too much information. Way too much. Add the fact that my guys’ brains are melting from all this estrogen, and I’m in hell.”

Max studied his friend. He wasn’t in hell. He had Kyra and Sam by his side and, from what Max had heard, there to stay. He couldn’t be farther from hell.

As if on cue, Sam came running and threw herself at Mike, who effortlessly picked her up. “Hi, baby girl.”

She gave him a sound kiss. “I’m ready for the class. Oh, hi, Max.” She stared at him for a long second, then turned to Mike. “Can I get a haircut like his? Pretty please?”

Mike laughed. “I don’t think so. Your mom would blow a gasket. Now go gather the other kids. I’ll be there in a minute. Will you take care of the kickboxing classes?” he asked Max, who nodded. He’d already told Zack, James’s friend and partner at their security firm, that he was back in Alden. Zack had been relieved; with James out of town for a month, they were up to their ears in work too.

Max looked at his watch. It was almost time. “Do I have to herd them in first?”

“Probably. I swear, some of these guys have a death wish.”

Max was headed toward where “YMCA” was playing when Serena intercepted him. “Hi, Max! I heard you were back. I missed you on Saturday in the Red Chicken,” she said, putting a hand on his chest. “I’d reserved you a dance.”

“Hi, Serena. Something came up.”

The exuberant redhead offered him a mischievous smile and leaned over, speaking into the crook of his neck. “I would have made it come much higher.”

He chuckled, softly. He’d gone out with Serena many times. She was gorgeous, fun to be around, and totally onboard with his no-exclusivity, nothing-serious policy. It wasn’t as if he dated several girls at the same time, because he didn’t, but he always made it clear there were no immediate intentions of commitment on his part.

“Say, they’re opening a very trendy restaurant in Boston. Huge waiting list already. One of my friends could get us in. What do you think if I grant you the immense honor of accompanying me?”

He looked at the girl and smiled. Redheads were his weakness.

He was in Alden for a while. He might as well enjoy himself.

* * * *

Annie took a deep breath and tried to steady her trembling hands. The man had just stormed out, the smell of expensive cologne still lingering, his ugly words echoing in her head.

That had gone…as expected, if she was being honest with herself.

Holding in her tears and with a knot in her throat, she left a twenty to cover the bill and shakily made it to the door of the coffee shop. What a way to waste her lunch break.

Her phone rang. Christy. She disconnected it. She didn’t want to talk to her friend now. She would burst into tears. No. She was going back to work and forgetting this ever happened. Then, if she was still upset by the end of the day, she was going home and immersing herself in the puzzle for as long as frigging needed. That had always worked before.

Except for today, of course.

A full, exhausting workday behind and two hours fuming over the puzzle, and nothing. She was still as pissed. More, even. She’d been fidgeting with the same puzzle pieces for a century, trying to click them together, but no luck. That her sight was blurry from the fat tears rolling down her cheeks was probably not helping. And why the hell she was crying, she had no clue.

At her wit’s end, she started pounding on two pieces with her closed fist and yelling at them. “Come on, dammit! Fit together!”

The sound of the front door closing and Max’s voice caught her totally by surprise. He approached as he spoke. “Ace, I’m no expert, you know I’m not, but I think hammering them into place is not the way it’s done. Not that I hadn’t been tempted to do so after trying it out on Saturday.”

She’d been so busy melting down that she’d missed his arrival. She turned to him, swiping her tears. “Stupid pieces won’t fit!”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Shitty day. I needed the puzzle to take my mind off it, but it isn’t cooperating. It doesn’t work. Going to bed,” she said as she got up and did her damnedest to sneak past him.

Easier thought than done. No one sneaked past Max if he didn’t want to.

In a swift movement, he’d wrapped her in his arms, his chin on her head. She attempted to wrench away, but he held her tighter. “Settle down, Ace. Talk to me.”

Oh God. Those were the wrong words. She needed to get the hell out of there, but she couldn’t move, and he felt so steady and safe she was crying her eyes out even before she gave herself permission to. He didn’t hurry her. He just stood in silence, one hand on her back, the other on her neck, cradling her.

“I finally spoke with the father of the baby,” she whispered against his chest after her crying jag.

She felt his muscles tensing at her words. “I see. I take it that didn’t go well?”

“No. Yes. He accused me of trying to saddle him with someone else’s baby. Called me a gold digger and told me not to bother him again without a court order for a paternity test.” And some other nasty things she was not going to repeat.

“Loser,” he growled. “I’m so sorry, baby.”

“I’m not, Max,” she said, lifting her face and wiping her wet cheeks. He loosened his embrace and she took a step back. “Really. I don’t want Luigi involved. This is stupid. I don’t know why I’m so angry. I should be relieved he told me off. And I am. But I’m pissed too.” She began pacing, her voice getting louder and louder as she rambled, her hands on her waist. She was barefoot, her blouse half out from her pencil skirt. Her hair all over the place. She knew she must look like a whackjob and probably wasn’t making a lick of sense either, but she couldn’t rein herself in. “The way he treated me and the baby, like we’re planning to trap him. Can you believe it? Can you? Ha! As if I need him for anything. Gold digger. That’s so frigging rich. And to think I was just being fair by letting him know. I don’t give a flying flip what he thinks of me.” She should be laughing, high-fiving, not frigging crying. Totally irrational. Damn hormones.

He came up to her and, cupping her face, wiped her cheeks with his thumbs. “You need a way to work out all this pissed-off-ness. Come on. I have the perfect solution for this.”

Annie glanced at the gym bag he’d left at his feet. “Max, I’m not the kind of person to go to the gym to punch something or run to death. I’m much more passive-aggressive. I drown myself in ice cream and junk food.”

“My way is better,” he said, grabbing her by the hand. “I know exactly what you need. Best anger-management therapy, second only to getting horizontal.”

Oh crap. Now she was alarmed. “You know I’m not getting in the sex swing, right? Or doing anything—”

He laughed hard. “Your mind is in the gutter, Ace. Not that you up in the swing wouldn’t be a sight to behold. You would be spectacular, but that’s not what I meant. Trust me. Let’s go.”

“Like this?” she asked, lifting her arms and giving herself a once-over. “I’m a mess.”

Annie didn’t dare to speculate about the state of her makeup. She hadn’t seen herself on a mirror since she came home, but she hadn’t looked so hot then; she doubted very much it had improved.

He didn’t seem to mind. “Just get shoes on. You look fine.”

She studied him for a long second. Faded jeans, white T-shirt clinging to his muscular chest. Viking beard, tattoos on the head. Tresses. Blond and gorgeous and fresh from the shower. “What the hell. Look at you. Who’s going to see anything else after you make an entrance? I could go naked and no one would notice.”

THEY JUMPED INTO his car and drove for a while in silence. She didn’t engage him; she seemed more preoccupied with talking to herself. He couldn’t understand all she said, but he’d swear he had heard the words
gold digger
,
paternity test
, and
fucking asshole
several times. Along with
in your dreams
and
hasta la vista.

“Where exactly are we going?” she finally asked as they reached the coast.

“You’ll see. It’s not far.”

They passed several small towns, and then, at the very end of Hornsea, Max parked on the waterfront, near the old pier that had been renovated into a small wooden restaurant.

Annie frowned, looking confused. “The Crabby Lobster?”

“Biggest, juiciest lobsters on the East Coast. Plus they give you a mallet. You can eat yourself silly and still beat the hell out of something. Fantastic anger-management method.”

She laughed and, shaking her head, got out of the car. “You’re full of surprises. Not in a million years would have I guessed this.”

“What did you think, that I was going to pad you with protective gear and throw you in the ring to beat some unsuspecting rookie?”