To the Max (17 page)

“Sebastian? We’re on a first-name basis already?” Holly asked and then took a sip of her coffee.

“I’ve known him for a while.” Sebastian was an old friend. A family friend.

“You know who he reminds me of, with that slick suit and that gorgeous black hair?” Before Annie could say a word, Holly answered. “The billionaire from the last book.”

“Those books are dissolving your brain.” She should know. She was living with Angus the Highlander—a book, by the way, that she’d reread several times. “Billionaires don’t do it for me.”

“And what does it for you? Because you look fantastic,” Holly said, sipping more of her coffee. “No more black under your eyes.”

“I’ve been sleeping with Max.”

Holly sputtered the coffee she was drinking. “You what?”

“It’s not what you think. I’ve been sleeping with him. Just sleeping. His back rubs are amazing.”

The first time she’d woken up in his bed, he’d already left for his morning run with Mike, so it hadn’t felt too weird. He’d come back when she was already dressed and ready for work.

“Good morning, Ace. You slept well?”
he’d asked, as if sleeping together was the most normal thing in the world.

“Yes,”
she’d mumbled, not really knowing what else to say.

“Great. Headed for a shower. Have a killer day at work.”

And that had been it. Max’s easygoingness was stunning.

Next night he’d passed by her room.
“Come on. I’m going to bed. I’ll wait for you five minutes. If you make me come get you, you lose the right to choose what we’ll watch.”

And that’s how their routine had kicked off. As a result, Annie was sleeping like a queen, no more aches, and being more productive at the office.

“Back rubs? I can’t believe Angus has been giving you back rubs and you didn’t tell us,” Holly accused her while taking the tissue Annie was offering her and cleaning the coffee she’d spilled on herself.

“There’s nothing to tell. We watch old reruns together in his bed. There must be some wicked feng shui going on in his room. It puts me under right away.”

“You must be insane. You’re in bed with Max and you do nothing but fall asleep?”

Well, that was not entirely accurate. Every time Max touched her, her whole body quivered. It was impossible to have him that close, talking almost in her ear, and not have a physical response. Still, she smothered those thoughts the same way she smothered her reactions to him. Yes, she was having some crazy wet dreams, but hello, she was reading smut and sleeping with a Highlander. No wonder her pregnancy hormones were playing havoc with her subconscious.

Annie shrugged. “Pregnant women sleep a lot.”

“What if Angus makes a pass at you? What then?”

Annie rolled her eyes. Please. Despite the physical resemblance, Max was no Angus. He wasn’t a barbarian Highlander who had kidnapped his bride and was trying to bind her to his bed. And Annie wasn’t a twenty-two-year-old virgin. She was a thirty-five-year-old accountant, pregnant after a one-night stand. Pretty enough, sure, but nothing out of this world. Max was twenty-seven. Handsome. Funny. Carefree. A playboy of the highest order with too many girls to count after him. A pass at her? She wouldn’t even recognize a pass at her from a guy like him. “Max and I might as well be from different planets. He doesn’t see me that way. He’s just being sweet. That’s all.”

“If you say so,” Holly answered, not sounding that convinced.

Annie caught a flash of something in her friend’s gaze. “What?”

Alden’s sassiest sheriff’s-department dispatcher grinned devilishly. “You’re going out with a highly prized male escort and sleeping with Angus the Highlander. You are my hero. You get full bragging rights. For freaking ever.”

* * * *

The Shack had closed for the winter, so the Red Chicken was again in full swing, packed with people out for a good time.

“No, thanks. I’m just hanging out with my brothers,” Max said with an apologetic smile to the last girl who had approached him and asked him to dance. He’d repeated that so much tonight, he was feeling like a parrot.

James shook his head, irritated. “You need to lose the hair and the Viking beard, or someday we’ll get trampled. They keep coming in packs.”

“Fucking annoying,” Cole said in a grunt.

For once, Max had to agree with his brothers. As a matter of fact, he hadn’t realized how annoying that was until now. Probably because he had never refused them before.

“Yeah, I think I will cut the hair.” He’d been in Alden for a month already, and so far not a word from the studios.

“Hi, Max,” Donna, a girl he’d known since high school, greeted him.

“Hello, Donna. I didn’t know you were in town.”

“I’m back home for the weekend. Say, would you like to hang out? Grab something to drink?”

“No, thanks. I’m with my brothers.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Sorry, I’m busy tomorrow,” Max said and dismissed her as nicely as possible.

Donna left, and his two brothers stared at him.

“Okay, what’s up?” James asked after a long silence.

“What do you mean?”

“What do I mean? Every frigging girl in this bar has come to either try to get you to dance or to invite you over to her table or ask you out or whatever. You’ve turned all of them down. What gives?”

“Nothing. I just don’t feel like dancing. Or going out with anyone.” This past week with Annie. Wow. He’d never had more fun in his entire life. And they hadn’t gone anywhere. They stayed home, cooked, talked, watched TV, laughed their heads off. Slept together.

James turned to Cole. “Call an ambulance. Max is delirious.”

“Braids are too tight,” Cole mumbled. “Cutting the blood flow to his brain.”

“What? Is it so weird that I’d rather spend time at home?”

“Yes,” both his brothers answered.

At that moment, he saw his sisters-in-law, Holly, and Annie coming from the bathroom, and he got sidetracked. Annie had come straight from work and had on a red suit that hugged her sweet curves perfectly. Her heart-shaped ass. Her small waist. The little bump on her stomach. Her gorgeous breasts straining against the blouse. Her hair cascaded over her shoulders, something she did very seldom when she was dressed in a power suit. He had her every day in his place. In his bed. She wasn’t his, but what imbecile would exchange being with her for an empty date with someone else?

Max’s heart had tumbled the second he’d opened his eyes and seen Annie peacefully sleeping by his side that first morning. With his cock badly tenting his boxers, he’d sneaked out of bed and gone straight to the bathroom for a cold shower.

He’d turned the water to freezing, but his hard-on hadn’t receded. He could have stuck his cock in an ice bucket, and it wouldn’t have helped a fuck. Sleeping with her had been the last thing he’d needed. Living with her was bad enough. Touching her? Feeling her light weight on his mattress? Burying his nose on her hair and smelling her in? Bad, bad idea. She was pregnant. And going out with the father of her baby. Granted, the man didn’t seem to be on board with the program, but Max had no business taking her to his bed.

The cold water hadn’t done much, but the thought of Annie going out with Luigi had gotten his erection to deflate.

Dripping wet, he’d entered his room to pick up his clothes. He’d glanced at Annie, soft and rumpled, sleeping in his bed. Big fucking tactical mistake. He’d had to go back to the shower. Amazing how his cock had an independent mind. It wouldn’t even bother to give the time of the day to any other woman, but a glimpse of Annie and it was ready to hammer nails.

“How come your hair is wet?”
Mike had asked as he’d joined Max for their morning run.

“Took a shower,”
Max had muttered. He’d hoped this would be one of those mostly silent runs, but it was not meant to be. Since Mike had gotten back together with Kyra, he was happier. And chattier too.

“Why on earth would you take a shower before a five-mile run?”

Why? Because he would have fucking injured himself if he had attempted to even trot with that hell of a hard-on he’d woken up with.

Max hadn’t answered, but Mike must had figured it out, because he chuckled.

“It’s not what it looks like,”
he’d told Mike.
“Annie has trouble sleeping, and I’m giving her back rubs.”

“I see. Did it help?”

“Yes. She slept.”
She hadn’t even moved once in the whole night.

“I didn’t mean that. I meant the shower,”
Mike had pointed out.
“Did it help?”

“The second one,”
Max had admitted in a grumble.

Luigi or no Luigi, he cared about her. A lot. If he had to stand under freezing water every fucking morning so that she could have a good night’s sleep, he would.

He hadn’t gone to her room with the plan to take her to his. He’d intended to find out what was wrong. Rub her neck and leave. But somehow he’d deluded himself into thinking that he could keep his distance. What a joke. Then she was in his bed, and they were watching TV and laughing. His hands on her, her body humming from pleasure. In spite of his hard-on, he hadn’t ever been so content.

They’d run for a while in silence, until Mike spoke again.
“There’s this girl from Kyra’s dance crew who has been asking about you. Shannon’s her name, I think. You interested?”

“Nope.”

“She’s quite a looker, and a redhead at that.”

“Nope.”

Mike had snorted.
“Oh yes. It is what it looks like.”

And Mike had been right. It definitely was what it looked like. No doubt. It had been then, that first morning, and it was now, a week later.

He didn’t want Annie to leave from his bed, let alone his home. But time was playing against him.

“How are the renovations going at Annie’s condo?” Max asked turning to his older brother.

“Slowly. The whole property has more issues than we anticipated, starting with the plumbing and ending with the electricity. Why?”

He took the plunge. “Could you delay them as much as possible? Leave Annie’s place for last?”

Cole stilled, a frown marring his expression. “Why? Don’t tell me this is because of Annie.”

Max didn’t answer. James and Cole exchanged looks, their faces stern.

“She’s not your type, Max. What do you want with her?”

He wasn’t sure yet. He knew he wanted something. Something more than sex, although that he wanted in spades. More and more with every passing day. He decided to avoid the question. “What do you mean, she’s not my type? Which type is she?”

“The one with looks
and
brains,” James explained. “The one that won’t stand in line with your other groupies, waiting for you to give her the time of day.”

“I know.”

“Don’t fuck with her,” Cole warned. “She doesn’t deserve it.”

Max didn’t say a word about sleeping with her. They would never believe he hadn’t touched her—hell, he couldn’t believe it himself for that matter—and they’d most likely sock him.

When his sisters-in-law arrived, he realized Annie wasn’t with them anymore. He scanned the place until he found her. Talking with some mofo in a suit who apparently was asking her to dance.

“Excuse me. Going to dance,” he said to his brothers.

James frowned. “I thought you didn’t want to dance.”

“Changed my mind.” He didn’t turn around, but he could feel his brothers’ reproving eyes on him.

Whatever. Today was the first time since the Crabby Lobster that he’d been outside with her. He’d watched her going out with Luigi and said nothing, but fuck if he was going to stand still while some asshole came on to her.

“May I interrupt?” Max said, not really asking and not really waiting for the other guy to agree.

He had her already grabbed by the waist when the mofo woke up. “Oh, yeah, I suppose.”

Good. If Max had had to punch him, he would have. Hard to explain it, to himself as much as anyone, but he would have.

“You still owe me that dance from my brother’s wedding, remember?” he whispered in her ear.

“I danced with you. By the hammock.”

“Nope. I gave you one spin and you threw up on me. Hardly a proper dance.”

“True,” she admitted, offering him one of those smiles that left his brain scattered and his cock so fucking hard it hurt.

“You going to throw up on me again?”

Before she even answered, he spun her around, cupped her neck, and then bent her backward. She was laughing, her hair all over his arm, her body warm and compliant. Like when she slept with him.

“What do you say we go home to see more of the greatest hits of the last century?”

“Deal, but tonight I will sleep in my bed.”

“Sure, Ace. Are we taking bets?”

She hadn’t slept in her room for over a week. Either she fell asleep on the sofa and he took her to bed—his bed—or she fell asleep right in his.

“I mean it,” she insisted. “And you’re the one who takes me to your room when I doze off on the sofa.”

He’d told himself she would be more comfortable this way and that it had nothing to do with him or his preferences.

It was getting more and more difficult to swallow that kind of bullshit.

“Not true, baby,” he lied shamelessly. “I try to dump you in your bed. You keep crawling to mine. And let’s face it: you’re a bed hog. And a blanket hog.”

“So not true.”

“You just want me for my body heat now that it’s getting colder. Very unflattering. Not to mention you’re the first woman who’s ever fallen asleep while I have my hands on her. You know, before the good stuff.”

They danced and laughed for a couple of songs. Then they went home, and as predicted, she was out for the count, relaxed and soft in no time. In his bed. Max turned off the TV, covered her with the blanket, wrapped his arm around her, and buried his nose in her hair. He closed his eyes and went to sleep, trying not to think how much he wanted her and how right it felt to have her close to him.

* * * *

Mike would have to run alone because there was no fucking way in hell Max was going anywhere this morning. Annie had somehow turned in her sleep and was half lying on him, her face against his skin, her nose touching his piercing, her stiff nipples poking him with every breath. Her hand rested softly on his chest, and her leg was over his thigh, mere inches from his monumental erection.