To the Max (5 page)

Christy laughed. “Please, girl. Max
is
the candy. I’m telling you, you get him to work there a couple of days per month, and you’re set for life. Not that you need the money. Just saying.”

Two more messages. Annie logged in to Facebook. Oh God. She handed the phone back to her friend. “I should go rescue him.”

“You kidding? He’s having a field day. He was laughing and flirting with everyone when I rushed there to see what was going on. And for your information, he didn’t rat you out—not right away. I had to drag it out of him. You know I’m a tough cookie.” Yes, she was. That was why Christy could hold her own when dealing with Cole. “Why didn’t you tell me Megan couldn’t work today? I could have taken her place.”

“You spend too much time there as it is.” Annie knew how hard it was for Christy to be around sugar, having struggled with emotional eating all her life. “And you didn’t have to come.” She waved Christy off. “Go back to your fiancé. Enjoy your free day.” Mrs. Wilkinson at the library was still having difficulties with the e-collections and was driving Christy into the ground. Her friend deserved a day off.

Christy, of course, ignored her. “No, and you’re right; I didn’t have to come. Because you were supposed to come to me. And stay with me.”

“Yeah, and I’m sure Cole would appreciate having me there.”

“Of course he has no problem with you staying with us, honey. As a matter of fact, if he knew that you’re sick and why, he’d probably be here packing your stuff.”

That
Annie could believe. And that was exactly why she’d sworn her friend to secrecy. She had enough trouble as it was making sense of the whole thing. She was still amazed she’d blurted it to Max, but somehow it had felt right. Natural. “Not gonna happen. Not moving in with you guys.” Cole and Christy were starting their life together, and she refused to be a third wheel. A third, vomiting-all-the-time wheel.

Christy huffed. “You’re so stubborn. Damn that the landlord just rented my old apartment. That would have been perfect. What about moving temporarily to your dad’s?”

Annie gave her a you’re-joking look. Like she was going to that place with the wife du jour and the ex-wives fluttering around, with their fake Botox smiles and their calculating, greedy eyes when they thought no one was watching. Although Barbara, the current trophy wife, was somehow more likable.

Her mom and Larry were several states away. And happily clueless about the whole pregnancy thing.

“I know,” Christy mumbled, reading her expression perfectly. “The club resort?”

Annie lifted her shoulders. That was one option, although two months there would be hard to bear. An overdose of entitled socialites would probably kill her.

“Well, Mrs. Wilkinson is thinking about renting a room.”

“Nope. She’ll realize right away I’m pregnant, and I’m not ready for everyone to know yet. Besides, she doesn’t like me. Since I joined the romance book club, she looks at me funny.”

Christy chuckled. “She looks at me funny too. Scratch that; she looks at me horrified. She already thought I was from another planet for introducing the digital collections and suggesting we reduce the paper copies. Diving into the world of cliterature and taking Alden’s women with me is just the last straw.”

“Mrs. Patty’s incident didn’t help.”

The romance book club had kicked off with half the town signed up. But when Mrs. Patty, the lady in charge at the Salvation Army, had to be rushed to the hospital while still clutching her e-reader to her chest, Christy decided to separate the club into two groups based on reading preferences. And heart condition.

“Which reminds me, we’re starting a new book,” Christy added.

They were supposed to be reading a book per month, but they’d polished off the first one in a week.

“Really? What now?”

Christy wiggled her eyebrows. “One word: Highlanders.”

Lord. Horrible timing to sign up for a cliterature book club. She was suffering enough as it was with the hot flashes, without having to read about mouthwatering ancient warriors whose swords weren’t their only diamond-hard accessories.

Several more messages hit the phone. Christy checked them. “More of the same. Max is causing havoc. Not even Cole scowling by his side is deterring the women.”

“Cole is scowling by his side?”

Christy nodded. “We were together when my phone went bonkers. Pity James is still on his honeymoon. If you could get the three Bowen brothers working in the shop, man, that would be a sight to behold.”

“How are things going with Cole?”

A smile tugged at Christy’s lips. “Things are great.”

Annie loved how her friend’s face went soft when she talked about Cole.

“You’re a brave woman.” Cole was a force to be reckoned with. Scary.

“Nah, he’s a total softie. Haven’t you seen the way Max pesters him?”

“You know,” Annie started, “Max offered me his house. He’s going to be away for a while filming. He said I could stay there and take care of his pets.”

Christy was taken aback. “Max has pets? I had no idea.”

“Apparently. It doesn’t really matter though, because I can’t take him up on it. It’s too much.” She wasn’t used to being indebted to anyone to such an extent.

Max lived by the lake—not on the newly developed side but on the old one, in a gorgeous Victorian house he’d totally renovated.

“Why? It’s a great solution,” Christy said. “Besides, who will look after the pets?”

“You serious? Any of his groupies.” He’d just have to mention it or tweet about it, and a thousand volunteers would offer, never mind what kind of hellhounds Tango and Cash were.

At that moment, a woman dressed in expensive clothes entered the yard. She pulled her sunglasses up.

“Barbara, what are you doing here?” Annie asked, surprised.

Her father’s current wife didn’t answer right away. She was too busy gawking at her surroundings and trying to avoid the piles of material that the workers had left scattered all over the place. “I came to the club for my tennis lesson, and I thought to get those champagne strawberries your dad likes so much. I couldn’t even get in your store. Total mayhem, so I decided to check up on you. What’s going on? And why does this condo look like a work site?”

“Store is fine. A very popular friend of mine is tending to it. And the complex is being renovated after faulty wiring caused a fire.”

Barbara scrunched her beautifully sculpted nose job. “Forget renovate. They should bring it down.” She stepped on some cables with her Blahniks, almost losing her footing. “This is a mess. Please don’t tell me you’re staying here.”

“Well…”

“You can’t stay here. You have to come to the estate.” She motioned to the piled materials. “This place was bad enough as it was before. Now it’s downright inhuman.”

Annie rolled her eyes. Most of her neighbors were staying. Yes, it was annoying and exasperating to reside in a work site, but come on. Some people survived in much, much worse conditions. On the other hand, Barbara lived in a mansion, so yeah, to her this was probably the Gulag.

She tried derailing her attention. “Barbara, this is Christy, my dear friend from college. Christy, this is Barbara, my dad’s wife.”

The woman glanced at Christy, offered her a quick smile and a nice-to-meet-you, and then zeroed back in on Annie. “How come you didn’t tell us you needed a place to stay?” she asked, sounding outraged, arms crossed under her gravity-defying, barely two-year-old silicone boobs. “By the way, you don’t look well. Are you sick?”

“Just tired,” Annie hurried to answer. She didn’t want people to know about her pregnancy, especially her dad’s side of the family.

“Although no wonder,” Barbara continued, glancing around with a sneer. “Living here would make anyone sick. Shall I send someone to pack your things? Your dad would love to have you at the estate.”

Really? Because Annie was positive he wouldn’t notice her presence. Or lack thereof.

“Thanks, but no. I’ve already made other arrangements.”

It took a bit of insisting before Barbara gave up and left.

“Other arrangements?” Christy asked when they were alone.

“I’m moving in with Holly and her cousin. It’s just a couple of months. How bad can it be?”

Chapter Three

Annie pulled her rolling bag up Max’s driveway while he watched, leaning on the doorjamb with his arms and his feet crossed, his chest bare, and his jeans riding low on his hips, looking pretty amused.

“You gave in just in time, Ace. I’m leaving tomorrow.”

She stopped in front of him, trying to ignore his naked chest and bulging arms. And his cocky smirk. “They aren’t spiders, right?”

His eyes danced with laughter. “No spiders.”

“Something slimy? Bugs of some kind? Come on, Max, give it up.”

They’d gone through this when she called him a couple of hours ago. He could have told her about his pets, but the bastard was enjoying himself too much at her expense.

Max smiled that sexy smile she had no business noticing. “You’ll love them. They are the funniest. I got them from Mike.”

From two-hundred-plus-pound, heavily tattooed Mike? Not reassuring. At all.

She’d thought of getting Christy to find out through Cole, but it felt somehow dishonest. Max had offered her his home, no reservations. She would take care of whatever monsters he had as pets. Just please God let them have no more than two eyes and four legs. Paws. Claws. Whatever.

“So that you know, I’m going to be paying rent,” she warned him.

He threw his head back and straight up laughed in her face. “Sure, Ace.”

“I’m serious.”

Max ignored her. “So what happened? What made you finally come to your senses?”

“Holly’s cousin got visitors from out of town, and I had to give up the couch. No space there, so I went to the motel,” she admitted grudgingly. “I’m counting on whatever beasts you have being smaller than the ones I saw crawling there. I called the resort too. Totally booked for the next two weeks.”

“So you’re saying I’m your last choice.”

“Well, there was Mrs. Wilkinson too, but she’s scary.”

Shaking his head, Max grabbed her bags and signaled for her to follow him inside. “Come in, Ace.”

Annie didn’t make it very far. She looked around, awed. “Wow, this place is beautiful, Max. Nothing like I’d imagined.”

“What? You thought I’d have cobwebs and smelly socks all over?”

“Of course not. I mean this. This looks even better than the outside.” Outside it was a gorgeously restored Victorian blue house. Inside, old and new blended perfectly. Lots of light, dark woods, high ceilings, and simplicity. No clutter. He’d obviously removed some walls; the first floor had an open-space concept with a state-of-the-art kitchen and an old, beautifully refurbished dining table.

He shrugged. “I just renovated it. I bought it from old Mrs. Bromberg. She couldn’t keep up with the repairs and wanted to relocate to the West Coast with her daughter.”

It hadn’t gone exactly like that. Max had been helping Mrs. Bromberg with the upkeep for a long time, and when she decided to move in with her daughter, he’d offered her a hefty price for the house, more than she would have ever gotten on the open market.

“I’d always known I wanted to live by the lake,” he continued. “But I’d rather stay in the old part, where the houses have strong personalities. It puts me a bit farther away from where Cole and James live but still within walking distance.”

Suddenly she noticed a weird, high-pitched racket. Dreading the response, she asked, “What’s that squeaking?”

“Tango and Cash. You want to meet them?” Max walked toward the open patio doors. “I keep them outside during the day. They like it.”

She followed him but stopped dead in her tracks when she saw the big, bilevel cage.

Oh. My. God.

“Rats?” she choked out. “You want me to take care of rats?”

Max chuckled. “They aren’t rats. They’re long-haired guinea pigs.”

Duh
. “Rats with hair.”

“And don’t call them rats when they can hear you. They’ll be traumatized.”

Right. The one being traumatized was her.

By now Tango and Cash were standing and squeaking like crazy, their front claws grabbing the bars.

“They’re extremely social and expect treats,” he explained, moving closer and opening the door. “Do you want to hold one?”

Did she look like she did? Because if so, then her body language was failing her. Miserably.

“They don’t bite,” Max reassured her. “They haven’t bitten me yet. They’re very nice. Think of them as rabbits.”

He picked up a three-colored lump with fluffy long hair, only one black eye visible from under the fur, and tried handing it to Annie. She backed away a step. “This is Tango. Go ahead,” he said, extending the animal toward her. “You can’t catch anything from them. You’re more likely to infect them with the flu, for example. That’s why they’re used in labs. They don’t pass illnesses to humans; it’s the other way around.”

She moved a trembling hand to the animal and, with the tip of her index finger, touched its back. Tango was extremely soft. And it did look like a rabbit, except for the creepy rat’s paws.

Cash, a white one with red eyes, squeaked very loud and suddenly hopped, scaring the living wits out of her.

“What the hell?”

“Popcorning,” Max explained while he put Tango inside the cage and petted the albino rat.

“What?”

“That’s what they call it. When guinea pigs get excited, they buck.”

O-kay. She was so in over her head here.

Now both were popcorning and running around. “As you can see, they’re a bit hyperactive.”

No shit
. “Where did you get them?”

“Mike bought a couple of males for his nieces and took them to Arizona. When he went back, his sister presented him with a bunch of guinea pigs.”

“Oh God.”

“Yep. Apparently Mike didn’t get two males, one slightly fatter, as he was told, but a male and an already pregnant female. They started reproducing, and the whole thing got out of control quickly. The owners tried separating them, but they had only two cages. They didn’t get it right, and the litters continued. Lisa was freaking out, animals appearing faster than they could give them away, so Mike took them. He managed to adopt them all out except these two females. He had to go out of town for several days, and I pet sat them. They’ve been here ever since. I got attached.”