To the Max (6 page)

“Females?” At his nod, Annie let out a chuckle. “Why did you name them Tango and Cash?”

“They looked like guys to me. By the time we found out, the names had stuck.”

At least now she understood why they hadn’t bitten him. There wasn’t a female on this earth, regardless of the species, who wouldn’t melt at the sight of him.

Max opened the door on the second floor and tapped on the towels carpeting the surface. “Come up here, guys. It’s comfy in the loft. Better views.”

Tango moved to the wooden ramp connecting the floors and climbed up very slowly. She hadn’t made it halfway when suddenly she threw herself down.

Annie was stunned. “What did she do that for?”

“Fuck if I know,” he said, looking aggravated. “Bought them this cage so that they could have space and run and have fun, but they seem scared of heights. That, or they’re trying to commit suicide. Tango is more daring; she makes it halfway, but then she stops, gets nervous, and jumps down into the void. Cash doesn’t even get halfway.”

She stared at him and dissolved into laughter. “You are a stuntman and got two female rats named Tango and Cash who are afraid of heights and can’t make it to the second floor of their kick-ass cage?”

“Pretty much. But hey, no pet is perfect, right? Tate’s mother’s cat has a thing for alley cats and bulimia. I’d say mine are stable in comparison. Well, if we don’t consider the possibility that they may be trying to jump to their deaths instead of being afraid of heights.”

The more he talked, the more Annie laughed. Max was a riot.

“But I’m an optimist. I’ll find a way to get them to the second floor. Prozac is another option.”

“Sorry,” she said once she’d gotten her giggles under control, “this is just too funny.”

“You’ll like them. You’ll see,” he said, grabbing her bags and turning to her.

That
she was sure wouldn’t happen, but she couldn’t say anything because she found herself ogling his ripped chest and bulging arms, spellbound. She was close enough to see his muscles flexing under his tan skin. Close enough to smell him. She’d always thought eight-packs were urban legends. Apparently not. And those lean hips. Oh my.

“Ace? My face is higher.”

Busted.

She blushed. “Oh, sorry. You’re half-naked.”

“Does that disturb you?” he asked, his expression wicked.

Duh
. “It’s…distracting,” she said, her face now totally on fire by the feel of it.

Max grabbed the T-shirt he’d left on the back of a chair and put it on. “Better?”

“You might need a burka,” she confessed.

Chuckling, he picked up the bags and walked to the stairs. “Come on. Let me show you to your room and give you the nickel tour.”

It was, of course, her luck that his ass was at her eye level. Man, he looked just as gorgeous from behind.

Yep. He definitely needed a burka. Full-body coverage.

She cleared her throat. Damn hot flashes were going to be the death of her.

“You’re staring at my ass, aren’t you?” Max asked without even turning around, his tone playful.

Sooo
busted. “Trying very hard not to.”

Once on the second floor, he opened the first door to the right. “This is you, Ace. I’m one door before the end of the hallway.”

It was a nice guest room—a bit empty but nice.

He put the bags on the bed. As if he could read her mind, he added, “As long as you don’t paint the walls pink, you can decorate it to your taste if it feels too…simple.”

She smiled. “Simple is nice. I like simple.”

“Good. Me too. There’s only one bathroom upstairs, but I’m leaving tomorrow, so you’ll have it all for yourself.”

They left the room and Max opened the next door. “And this is—”

Annie glanced around and almost choked on the breath she was taking. There were porn magazines scattered all over the place. On the table and the chairs. Piles of X-rated pictures. Several centerfolds too. “The worst man cave I’ve ever seen?”

“No, actually. This is my office. The man cave is at the end of the hallway.”

Oh, God. If this was the office, she shuddered to think what would be in the cave. “I see. I think there are support groups for this kind of addiction.”

“You mean those?” he asked, motioning at the magazines. “That’s just work.”

MAX WATCHED AS Annie processed his words and tried very hard to pick her jaw off the floor.

“What do you mean, work? I thought you were a stuntman for action movies. You telling me you moonlight as a porn stuntman?”

He cocked an eyebrow. “You mean a stunt dick, right?”

“You’re a stunt dick?” she all but yelled.

He barked out a laugh. “Of course not. Beside the job as a stuntman, I work as a graphic designer.”

“And you work for
Penthouse
?”

“Nope. I work for a company that, among other things, Photoshops pictures for adult magazines. You know, to make the models’ bodies more in tune with American men’s tastes.”

She looked flabbergasted, her eyes round as plates. “Oh my God! You’re a boob enhancer.”

“Excuse me, I’m a boob
and
ass enhancer. It seems we Americans are fans of big butts too.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me. I had no clue such a job even existed.”

“Sure it does. Usually Photoshopping is just a very small part of a graphic designer’s duties, but I travel a lot, so this is perfect for me.”

Annie moved inside, scanning the premises. She picked up several pictures.

“They send me the magazines regularly,” Max continued, feeling the weird need to justify himself, “so I can check the final result. I just finished doing a batch for them, and I haven’t had time to tidy up yet. Sorry.”

He was waiting for the reproving glare, but it never came. One side of her mouth quirked up.

“I guess for a man, this is a dream job, but how come you’re doing it? Isn’t working as a stuntman in Hollywood lucrative enough?”

“I don’t really do it for the paycheck.”

Now she looked scared. “No?”

“No. It bugs the shit out of Cole that I earn money like this. And I love bugging Cole. Every time he comes over, he goes on and on about me being the only person in the world paid for looking at porn and how I should quit. So I can’t stop. Come on. Let me show you the man cave.”

“I’m not sure I want to see it.”

Her grimace was so cute. She must have come straight from work, for she had a power suit on, pearls and a tight bun included.

He took her by the hand, dragging her along. “Come on. Be brave. It’s just an average man cave.”

“I’m sure there’s nothing average in a boob enhancer’s man cave,” she muttered.

Boob enhancer. Ha. That was such a funny name. Much better than graphic designer. He was so asking for the title on his business cards to be changed. Cole was going to have a cow.

“You see?” he said when they arrived. “Big flat screen, a soft, old couch. A dartboard, a bar, and a billiard table. All standard man-cave equipment. Nothing weird.”

She looked around. “Well, I stand corrected. This is something of a letdown. After your office, I was expecting… I don’t know. A red room? A dungeon?”

“A what?”

“Never mind. I need to stop letting Christy recommend books to me. This is really nice. Cozy,” she said, taking in the surroundings. “Lots of windows. All the man caves I’ve seen have been in basements.”

“I thought about it, but I live alone. No need to separate the man cave from the rest of the living area.” There were too many bedrooms in this house for one person, and the basement was occupied by his weight-lifting setup.

She walked to the framed map near the bar, the one he’d gotten when he’d been shooting in Australia. She tilted her head to the left, then to the right. “What—”

He’d done the exact same thing the first time he saw it. “It’s a world map from Down Under’s perspective. Australia is in the middle.”

“Wow. It’s difficult to even find where we are.”

“I like to see things from a different perspective. And I love maps.”

“Your whole house is great,” she complimented as she sat on the couch.

He joined her. “Thanks, Ace. I can’t take all the credit for myself. Cole has great professionals working for him.”

“The decor is yours.”

“Work in progress, as you can see,” he said, pointing at the empty wall at the far end of the room. They sat in silence for a second. “Ace?”

“Yes?”

“Just for the record. I would never be a stunt dick. I would be the main dick.”

Her shoulders shook with laughter. “I’m sure you would.”

She turned her gaze to the bowl on the table. It held what was left of the big thank-you basket full of chocolate she’d sent him yesterday.

“Do those disturb you? I can take them away. I’ll actually be packing them tonight.”

“Don’t worry. I’m fine. You liked them?”

He nodded. Totally loved them. “You didn’t have to send me anything.” Truth be told, he’d had a ball in Sweets and Tweets.

“Of course I did,” she countered. “You spent all your Saturday doing my job. Heck, you did it better than me. The shop was empty by closing time. Thank you, Max. Again.”

“Don’t mention it. You hungry? Or would you prefer to unpack and rest a bit?”

“I don’t want to keep you if you had plans for the night,” she said tentatively. “I can manage on my—”

“Nonsense. And I never have plans the last night home.”

She smiled. “Okay, then. I packed light. And I’m kind of hungry.”

Good, because he was starving. “Great choice.”

There was a snapping sound coming from the window, and Annie jumped. “What was that?”

“It’s windy. Probably a branch. Lots of windows in this house. And lots of trees around.”

She seemed a bit apprehensive. She obviously wasn’t used to this. Her condo was smack in the middle of town.

“There’s a security alarm, Ace. And Wilma’s gone through the senior self-defense course. They’re dangerous, those grandmas. I can attest to that. Mike has forced me and my long-suffering kickboxing students to team with them so they could practice on us. You’re safe here.”

She smiled, looking more reassured.

“Let’s get some food,” he continued, rising from the sofa. “We’ll have to order in because there’s nothing around.”

Once downstairs he checked the pile of take-out menus on the kitchen counter. “Pizza okay?”

“Sure, but I can cook. Just show me what you have and—”

“We’re cleaned out, Ace.” Apart from rice somewhere and Tango and Cash’s food, there was nothing.

“You don’t cook?”

“Actually, no, but not for the reasons you’re thinking. I have an aunt who used to cook for four men who could put away a huge amount of food daily, and she obviously misses it. I have a sister-in-law who owns a restaurant—an Italian one, to boot—and brings home lots of leftovers. And I have another sister-in-law with food restrictions. Who do you think gets all the extra-yummy stuff floating around? Me, of course. In this house, food appears faster than I can eat it. Cooking on top of that would be overkill. Now, which kind of pizza do you want?”

Annie lifted her shoulders. “It used to be that anything that didn’t have anchovies would do. Now? Who the hell knows? It’s hit or miss.”

“What do you think if we go for a couple of pizzas, one of them milder?”

“And cheese breadsticks. I love them.”

“You got it.”

“What?” she asked, catching his smile.

“You eat. That’s refreshing. I hate that women don’t seem to eat in California. They might have mastered the art of feeding themselves through photosynthesis or something like that. Then again, all of them seem extremely malnourished.” And there was nothing more annoying than sitting at supper with a woman who ordered water and an unappetizing plate of lettuce and spent the rest of the time moving the leaves around, not really eating them either.

She shrugged. “Well, after a certain age, you have to come to terms with some hard facts of life.”

“Which hard facts?”

“Nothing beats gravity. Nothing. You may as well go down in style, satisfied and well fed.”

He gave her a once-over. “For what it’s worth, I think you’re gorgeous. Curvy in the right places. Great ass.”

“Max!”

Her shocked expression cracked him up. “What? Just being helpful. And I must say, you ogled me first, remember?” The truth of the matter was, he’d loved feeling her gaze on him. And the way she was blushing now. So fucking adorable.

He called the order in and then turned to her. “Twenty minutes. And don’t worry; tomorrow when I tell my aunt you’re living here, she’ll get the fridge stocked in no time.”

“Oh no. No need. I’ll buy for myself. She doesn’t have to bother.”

“It’s not a bother for her. Trust me.” It was more like an imperative.

Annie’s gaze drifted down. “What are you going to tell your aunt? About me being here.”

He saw in her unsure expression what she was really asking. “This is your private matter. I don’t blab. I’ll just tell her you’re here to watch over my girls while your condo is being renovated. I told you—last time I left them with her, her cat unsettled them.”

“How?”

“Let’s just say it got them confused. Mike could take them in, but lately he’s tied in so many knots with all that’s happening with Kyra, I don’t want to add to his plate. Not to mention that with his grandma comes Wilma.”

She studied him, those expressive hazel eyes full of laughter. “What do you have against Wilma?”

“Oh, I have nothing against her, believe me. She’s the best, but she once made a comment about seeing a show on TV where rats jumped over a ring of fire. She said if we gathered Tango’s and Cash’s bangs into pigtails so they could see, she bet they could jump too.”

“She was probably kidding.”

“Not so sure, Ace.” And no way was he risking it. “And speak of the devil. We better move the cage inside.” The summer was ending, and it got chillier at night.

As always, the second he approached, Tango and Cash went hyper. He could see from the corner of his eye that Annie’s steps were faltering. “If you’re not comfortable with them, I can get someone to take them while you’re here. It’s no big deal.” Her watching over his pets was just an excuse for guilt-tripping her into coming to stay here instead of going to some sleazy motel for months.