To the Max (46 page)

“Yep.”

“My grandmother called. She’ll be stopping by too.”

Patricia Vaughan was eighty-two but didn’t look a day older than sixty-five. Annie had been right; her personal trainer kicked ass. He would be a hit in the Eternal Sun Resort. They had been visiting Patricia regularly, several times a month. And she’d been in Alden too. She of course stuck out like a sore thumb, but that didn’t stop her from coming back. Max’s neighbor and OG extraordinaire, Wilma, liked her.

Last week, when they had been at Patricia’s place, she’d called Max into the library while the girls and Annie were in the sunroom. She’d picked up two cigars and offered him one.

“You smoke?”

“Only on a few occasions,”
she’s said, motioning for him to sit.

Max had accepted the cigar.
“What are we celebrating?”

“We’re going to have a bonfire,”
she’d stated as she moved to her desk, opened a drawer, and taken out some pieces of paper.
“I was wrong about you.”

“I told you you were.”

“Well, forgive my skepticism, but that’s something that in my world happens very seldom.”

The papers had turned out to be the two checks she’d offered him at that New Year’s Eve party long ago. She’d put them in the ashtray.

“You kept them all these years?”

Patricia had shrugged.
“Old habit. I knew I didn’t need them when you called me from the hospital. I’m a very good judge of character, but I screwed up with you. I should have realized the very first moment I saw you that you were different. Now I see you with my granddaughter and my great-granddaughters, and I’m glad you stuck around in spite of my…impoliteness.”

“Oh, I would have taken much worse, believe me. And you were just looking out for Annie. That’s all that matters.”

The old lady had handed him a golden lighter and pointed at the ashtray.
“Do you want to do the honors?”

“Okay.”

He’d lit the cigars, then the checks, and they watched as the papers disappeared into ashes.

“Someday you’ll have to help her run the Vaughan estate. I won’t live forever.”

Max had sucked on the cigar and let out a big puff.
“Yes, you will. That trainer of yours will make sure you do.”
And he was glad; he’d come to love this old, grouchy lady who was a total softie when it came to his wife and daughters. She’d even regaled him with some smiles these past few years. The biggest one had been when he moved from being a stuntman to working as a stunt and fight coordinator. Fewer adrenaline shots, but less danger too. Plus he could work a lot from home, especially in the preparation stage.
“Let’s have this conversation in twenty years; then maybe you’ll be ready for retirement.”

“I’m serious, Max. I need to know everything is taken care of.”

He’d assented.
“When the time comes, I’ll help Annie. You don’t have to worry about it. I have her back.”

She’d nodded, pleased.
“Thank you. That’s all I needed to hear.”

He still wasn’t too crazy about all the Vaughan responsibilities, but as Annie had, he’d learned to accept them as they came. He knew Lizzie and Jules were Bowens, but they were Vaughans too. They would make do.

Max and Patricia had sat there smoking long after the checks had burned completely.

“Guys, what are you— God, it stinks in here,”
Annie had said after opening the door. His wife had moved to him, waving her hand and scrunching her nose at the smell, and he sat her on his lap.
“Grandma, really? Didn’t your doctor tell you to drop that?”

Patricia Vaughan had shrugged.
“Yes, he did, but then he died.”

“You’ve been talking to Wilma, have you?”
Outliving their doctors was something he’d heard the OGs complain about quite often.

The old lady had nodded.
“I must admit, I find her and her friends disturbingly fascinating.”

Yeah, Max too.

“So what are you celebrating?”
Annie had asked, obviously aware of what the cigar ritual meant.

“I made the cut,”
he’d replied, kissing his wife.

Incredulously, Annie had looked at him, then at her grandmother.
“Two children, five years married, and you just now got the seal of approval?”

“I admit, I’m a couple of years late,”
the old lady had explained.

Annie had lifted her eyebrows.
“A couple of years?”

“All right, five years,”
she’d finally conceded.

Late or not, Max had been touched. Patricia Vaughan was a tough cookie, but he knew she liked him, even if she tried very hard not to let it show.

And he’d meant every word when he said he would have put up with much more hostility from her. He didn’t think any amount of impoliteness, as she had called it, or threats of death, torture, and dismemberment would had made him back off. Give this up. This deep feeling of contentment that he got just from lying with Annie and the girls in a hammock. Total peace and fulfillment.

He tightened his embrace and kissed Annie long and deep.

“What was that for?” she asked, her voice choppy.

“Just because.”

ANNIE LOOKED AT her husband’s face. That beautiful face that got more and more handsome the older he grew. “I love you.”

His expression softened. “I know, Ace. I love you too.”

At that moment, Lizzie moved, hugging Max and putting her small leg on top of him, pushing at Jules in her sleep.

“She doesn’t like sharing her daddy,” Annie whispered.

Of all the things involved in dealing with a little sister, what Lizzie was having the most trouble with was not being able to lie on his chest or sit on his shoulders all the time.

She was a daddy’s girl.

“She’s doing just fine,” he said, turning to his oldest daughter and kissing her forehead. “I’m much younger than my brothers and didn’t have that issue, but I’ve heard about the huge fights Cole and James had for Dad’s shoulders. It’s just sibling stuff; it comes with the turf.”

Max was a wonderful father, and both Lizzie and Jules adored him.

Luigi had contacted them once last year. He’d been spending a lot of time in Europe, but he’d been in Boston on a business trip and wanted to drop by, as a family friend. She’d asked Max for his opinion. He hadn’t had any problem with it. She was glad to see they were on the same page.

Luigi had visited for a little less than half an hour. Lizzie had come up to him and bluntly asked,
“Who are you?”

Before Annie could say anything, Luigi had offered her his hand.
“I’m a friend of your mommy and daddy.”

Lizzie had shaken his hand.
“Hello, friend. I have a brand-new sister. Do you want to meet her?”

The whole encounter hadn’t been as awkward as Annie feared. Max had been relaxed. Vigilant, but relaxed. Luigi had looked completely out of his comfort zone, especially around the children, keeping his distance. He hadn’t been lying when he said he didn’t want kids of his own. Whatever the reasons, those were very important for him.

As they’d said good-bye, Luigi addressed Max.
“Thanks for giving Lizzie all of this.”

Max had nodded.
“You’re welcome in our house whenever you want to visit.”

Luigi hadn’t called again. Annie didn’t know if he ever would, but whether he did or not, they were all going to be okay.

Annie snuggled against her husband and their daughters and watched the movie until two women, swaying their asses like crazy, passed by the hammock, eating Max with their eyes. Giggling loud to try to get his attention.

Her husband’s gaze didn’t veer from the big screen.

“Max?”

“Mmmm?”

“You’re missing the show.”

“What show?” he asked, turning to her, his expression clueless.

“The ass-and-boobs parade. And they were redheads. You’re still leaving orgasms in your wake.”

He laughed, bringing her face to his and kissing her. “I prefer brunettes. Don’t give a fuck about others’ asses or boobs. And the only orgasms I care about are yours.”

The rumble on his chest didn’t wake the girls—on the contrary, it seemed to relax them even more.

She’d been watching him with the kids while in line for the popcorn. If someone had given the children the choice between going to raid Sweets and Tweets or staying with him in that hammock, there would have been no competition. Spending time with Max would win. Every. Single. Time.

Max had been gawked at before, but now it was even worse. There was something about a man with children that got to women. When that man looked like him, well, it was a miracle they didn’t literally melt. But that was okay too. He’d never given them any attention, so she could live with it.

“Max? They called from the animal shelter. They have a very active, kid-friendly dog they think would be a good fit for us.”

Tango and Cash had died this summer. Max had woken up one day and Tango lay dead. Presumably from a heart attack. Then Cash had refused to eat, and in exactly five days, she’d died too. Lizzie had taken it badly. She’d adored them. Annie had cried too. She’d blamed it on the hormones, but who was she kidding? She’d loved them as much as he did.

“Is the dog ready to put on goggles and jump from wherever like Lizzie does?”

Annie giggled. “I asked. Apparently she’s a bit hyper. And very attached to another female dog that she loves to pester.”

“So you mean two dogs.”

She nodded. She reached for her cell and brought up the pictures that the shelter had sent her. A cute fox terrier and a paunchy bulldog.

“Okay,” Max assented. “Let’s go check. But I’m calling dibs on the names.”

“Tango and Cash?”

He looked at the picture. “Nope. Bud,” he said, signaling to the bulldog. Then he pointed at the svelte fox terrier pulling at the bulldog’s ear. “And Terence.”

“You heard the part about them being bitches, right?”

Max smirked. “Tradition, Ace. Tradition.”

Loose Id Titles by Elle Aycart

Heavy Issues

Inked Ever After

More than Meets the Ink

To the Max

* * * *

The OGs Series

Deep Down

Elle Aycart

After a colorful array of jobs all over Europe ranging from translator to chocolatier to travel agent to sushi chef to flight dispatcher, Elle Aycart is certain of one thing and one thing only: aside from writing romances, she has abso-frigging-lutely no clue what she wants to do when she grows up. Not that it stops her from trying all sorts of crazy stuff. While she is probably now thinking of a new profession, her head never stops churning new plots for her romances.

Keep in touch with Elle by visiting her at
http://elleaycart.blogspot.com
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