Colorado 01 The Gamble (58 page)

Read Colorado 01 The Gamble Online

Authors: Kristen Ashley

Tags: #Romance, #Mystery, #contemporary romance, #murder, #murder mystery

BOOK: Colorado 01 The Gamble
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My body gave a small twitch at this news but
I remained silent.

“He had death threats.”

I watched the screen and somehow, shortly
after the nubile, young lady met her dastardly end, two other
young, good-looking people were having somewhat raunchy sex in a
cabin.

This, I knew from my experiences horror
movie watching with Charlie, did not bode well. Sex was usually the
last thing anyone did in a horror movie before their life was
snuffed out with an axe, hatchet, a glove made out of long,
razor-sharp blades or a common kitchen knife.

“Bitsy’s life has been threatened too.”

Thoughts of gloves made out of razor-sharp
blades flew from my head, my body jerked and my head swiveled
around to look at him.

“Curt didn’t tell anyone, he hired a PI,”
Max continued.

I broke my silence and asked, “Is she going
to be okay?”

“Mick’s set something up.”

I thought of Bitsy alone in that big house,
unable to move around except in a wheelchair.

“I should go stay with her,” I declared to
Max and his brows knit.

“What?”

I yanked out of his arm, rolled off the bed
and threw down the pillow saying, “You’ll have to take me.”

“I’m not takin’ you to Bitsy’s.”

“Then I’ll call Arlene,” I stated as I threw
open the door to the closet and turned on the light.

“Nina, get in here.”

I ignored him and walked to my chocolate
colored cords on a hanger, pulling them off.

“Nina,” Max called and when I continued to
ignore him and examine my sweater selection on the shelves I heard
him mutter, “Jesus.”

I selected a cream colored, cable-knit but I
barely pulled it from its position on the shelf before it was
yanked out of my hand by Max. Then he tossed it on the shelf (now
not folded which was a shame, Caroline was good at folding
sweaters). Then, while I was still staring at the untidy sweater,
my cords were yanked from my other hand and tossed on the
floor.

Belatedly I turned to look up at Max and
exclaimed, “Hey!”

He grabbed my hand, flipped the switch to
the closet light as he pulled me out and then he closed the
door.

I twisted my hand in his and snapped over
the dying screams of (undoubtedly) the young lovers on the
television, “Let go.”

“No, we’re gonna talk.”

“I think you said enough earlier.”

“Babe, I was pissed and I’ll admit I didn’t
handle that very well.”

I felt my eyes narrow as I repeated, “You
didn’t handle that very well?”

Max ignored that and moved on. “You also
didn’t catch my meaning.”

“Oh, no, you’re wrong. I caught it all
right.”

“No, I don’t think you did.”

“Trust me, Max, I did.”

“I’m not Niles.”

That brought me up short and the only thing
I could do was stare.

Then I hissed, “
What?

“I give a shit,” Max stated.

“You give a shit about what?”

“Everything.”

“Perhaps you’d like to give me more detail,”
I suggested and tried to twist my hand out of his again but he only
used it to tug me closer and then his other hand lifted and his
fingers curled in a way that could not be mistaken around the side
of my neck. It wasn’t painful, not in the slightest, but it was
firm and it sent a message.

I stilled.

“All right, Duchess, you want detail, here
it is. Brody’s my best friend and I know he wouldn’t fuck me over
and I’m takin’ a wild guess the amount of times you’ve been fucked
over, you wouldn’t either. It wasn’t him, it wasn’t that, it wasn’t
even you sittin’ in his lap, though, I’ll repeat, I didn’t like
that one fuckin’ bit.”

“That isn’t detail, Max,” I pointed out.
“That’s you repeating yourself.”

“It was you callin’ him ‘darling’.”

I blinked and shook my head briskly,
once.

“I’m sorry?”

“You sat in his lap with your hands on him
and you called him ‘darling’.”

My blood started heating and I cried loudly,
“He was upset about his sister!”

“Yeah? Well, so am I.”

“Yes, and if I remember, I call you darling
too.”


Yeah, but you’re sleepin’ with
me
.”

I pulled against his hand, sputtering, “I…
you… I don’t get…”

“That’s mine,” Max declared and I stilled my
struggling and stared at him.

Then I informed him, “You call other women
‘babe’ and ‘darlin’’ and –”

“You’re my only Duchess.”

He had me there.

“It doesn’t mean anything,” I told him and
his brows drew together dangerously.

“Duchess doesn’t mean anything to you?”

“No, me saying ‘darling’.”

“It means something to me.”

“Well, I didn’t know that,” I defended.

“Yeah, so now I’m tellin’ you.”


Well, maybe you should tell me
before
you get angry at me for doing
something I didn’t know you didn’t want me to do. And maybe when
you get angry you’ll find a way to let me know you are without
being a total
jerk
.”

“And maybe you’ll cut me some slack when I
got a friend with a murdered husband, a dead man writin’ me notes,
a sister who’s been raped and we found face down in a river, a new
girlfriend whose Dad’s a dick and whose fiancé is an asshole and
both of ‘em are in town and a future that means the end of my
mountain as I know it.”


And maybe you’ll cut
me
some slack when I’ve broken up with my
fiancé
and
I just found
out he’s an asshole
and
he’s in
town
and
so is my
dick of a Dad. Not to mention, a girl I’ve come to care about tries
to commit suicide like my brother did.
And
, on top of all that, I’ve decided to up
stakes
again
and move
to a different country
again
and gamble on a man I barely know but who is annoying,
impossible and can be a
jerk
.
I’ve got to find a job and buy a big lawyer desk so people will
take me seriously and my mother and Steve are so excited about all
of this, they’re already planning to park their new RV beside your
house and use your
bathroom and kitchen!

I ended this on a shout, so absorbed in my
tirade I didn’t see his expression change. When I noticed his eyes
had gone warm and his face had gentled, I saw my mistake
immediately but had no time to backtrack. Max dropped my hand but
wound his arm around my waist and started shuffling me back toward
the bed.

“Max –”

“I knew somethin’ changed this morning.”

“Max –”

“You’re movin’ here.”

“Max –”

“You’re buyin’ a lawyer desk.”

“Max –” I stopped talking this time because
I fell back to the bed and Max fell on me.

Then his mouth went to my neck.

“Get off me!” I snapped.

“Nope,” he said against my neck then his
lips trailed up and his teeth nipped my ear.

I shivered.

Then I cried, “Off! We’re not done
arguing.”

“We can pick it up after we celebrate,” Max
said in my ear and I shivered again.

Then I pushed at his shoulders and bucked my
body, neither to any avail.

“We’re not going to celebrate. I’m changing
my mind. I’m only coming back to look in on Mindy, have a beer with
Arlene at The Dog, stop by Bitsy’s and have a latte and do a bit of
shopping. Then I’m going right back to England.”

Max’s mouth came to mine and he said,
“Cotton’ll be pissed, you don’t make him a fish pie.”

“Then I’ll carve some time out for Cotton,
now get off.”

He didn’t get off. He slanted his head and
kissed me. I tried to turn my head away but both his hands framed
my face and kept me stationary. This didn’t work so well for him,
since I kept my mouth closed.

Max lifted his head and demanded, “Stop
bein’ pissed, Duchess, and open your mouth for me.”

I glared at him. He grinned.

Then all of a sudden the grin died and his
eyes moved over my face as his thumb stroked my cheekbone.

After he did this for awhile, he muttered
his confession, “I was a dick.”

I pulled in breath, shocked not only that he
admitted it but that he understood he was being one.

“Shit comes up with Curt, history, for me,
for Bitsy,” Max went on and my body tensed under his for I knew
some of the history and guessed the rest and wondered if now he was
going to talk about it. “Normally, I can let it go. Today it was in
my face and I didn’t handle it very well.”

I waited for him to say more and for awhile
he didn’t, he just kept looking into my eyes. Then he did.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve had
someone I gave a shit enough about to share anything with and I’m
out of practice.”

This was something, a hint, and I waited for
more. This time, I didn’t get it.

Instead, his thumb drifted over my bottom
lip while his eyes watched it then he dipped his head and touched
his mouth to mine before lifting his head again.

His hand cupping my jaw, he whispered, “I
fucked up, baby.”

I closed my eyes and turned my head away,
disappointed, no, beyond disappointed.

But at least he could admit when he was
wrong. That was something.

I opened my eyes, looked at him and gave in.
“Don’t worry about it, Max. It’s been…” I searched for a word and
settled on, “crazy.”

He touched his lips to mine again before he
pulled slightly away.

“Promise me you won’t sit in another man’s
lap.” His voice was gentle but serious and I nodded.

“I think I got that.”

“And don’t call anyone ‘darling’. That’s
mine.”

I swallowed, liking that he’d claimed that,
and nodded again.

His forehead came to mine and he whispered,
“Love it when you call me that in your accent, honey.”

My body relaxed under his and my hands went
to his waist but I reminded him, “I don’t have an accent.”

I watched from close as he grinned.

“Now, Duchess, what exactly is a lawyer
desk?”

I couldn’t help it, I grinned back. “Can I
tell you while I make us something for dinner?”

Max lifted his head. “Yeah, dinner would be
good. Then we’re gonna celebrate.”

“No, then we’re going to finish my
movie.”

“Babe, that movie’s shit.”

“I know but I was kind of into it.”

He grinned again then his eyes dropped to my
mouth. “I want a kiss first.”

My body relaxed even more under him and I
whispered, “Okay.”

“I want your mouth open this time.”

I felt a shiver on my skin (and elsewhere)
as I repeated, “Okay.”

“Give it to me, baby.”

I lifted my head and put my mouth to his and
repeated yet again, “Okay.”

Then I opened my mouth and kissed him.

* * * * *

We were in the kitchen, the water was at the
boil and I had the cookie sheet out as well as all the fixings for
dinner.

Max had asked me what I wanted to drink, I’d
requested a glass of wine from the bottle he opened last night (the
Chardonnay this time) and he’d poured it for me.

Now he was standing hips against the sink,
drinking beer and watching me. I opened the packet of hot dogs and
he burst out laughing.

My eyes went to him. “What?”

His head dipped to the counter. “This
duchess food?”

“What?” I repeated and he walked up to me,
putting his beer on the counter and picking up the tube of
biscuits.

“Mac and cheese and pigs in a blanket with
white fuckin’ wine,” he stated through his smile. “Is this duchess
food?”

“No, it’s Nina’s Home in America Food. They
don’t have macaroni and cheese in a box and biscuits in a tube in
England and when I’m home I eat the food I like that I don’t get in
England.” He kept smiling at me as he pulled the wrapper off the
tube then rapped it on the edge of the counter so it gave a soft
“poof” as it exploded open. “Max!” I cried. “You stole the fun
part!”

His hand snaked out, caught me behind my
neck, yanked me to him so he could kiss the top of my head then he
let me go muttering, “Sorry, honey,” and twisted the tube open.

I pulled out some hot dogs thinking that my
telling him I was moving to Colorado wasn’t exactly a special
moment between us. I was also thinking that I had the Max I knew
back after the Max I didn’t know and who kind of scared me was
around for the afternoon and I didn’t want to go back to the other
Max. I was also thinking I really wanted to know what was in Curtis
Dodd’s letters and I was thinking it was Curtis Dodd’s letters that
brought out the other Max.

But I really wanted to know what was in
those letters.

“What was in Curtis’s letters?” I blurted
then tensed.

Max took a hot dog from me and started to
wrap a biscuit around it.

“Bitsy’s letter, a bunch of shit about
Shauna, more shit about how he loved Bitsy and only Bitsy even
though he was nailin’ Shauna and the fact that he’d received death
threats,” Max answered, not sounding angry, not looking broody,
just being Max.

“And yours?” I prompted, wrapping a biscuit
around a hot dog.

“A bunch of shit about how I needed to take
care of Bitsy and take care of the business for Bitsy and how Bitsy
had death threats too and, seein’ as I was readin’ his damned
letter, how I needed to take care of that and what he was doin’
about it with the PI and how I couldn’t tell Bitsy her life was
under threat.” He put the biscuit-coated hot dog on the tray and
reached for another one. “Oh, and more shit about how he loved only
Bitsy when he was fuckin’ Shauna.”

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