You Dropped a Blonde on Me (8 page)
Without warning, he stopped as suddenly as he’d begun, sniffing the ground with rapid, snorting whiffs. His enormous rusty brown head cocked upward just as she slammed into his back end. Gasping for breath, grateful for the reprieve, Maxine squeezed her eyes shut to thwart the dizzy reeling at her temples. She hadn’t eaten all day, and the cloying heat wasn’t helping.
Bracing her palms on her knees, she was taking slow, wheezing breaths when she noticed the shift in Jake’s body. He wriggled in her grasp, but he wasn’t trying to escape.
Popping one eye open, Maxine groaned, but she refrained from asking for help from above. If today was any indication, her hotline to heaven was obviously on the blink.
“Hey, Jake. How are ya, buddy?” Wet slurps from Jake’s tongue were muffled by someone’s hand.
Forcing herself to open both eyes, she managed to stifle her moan. Rearing upward, she eyeballed Campbell. Freshly showered, smelling of soap and herbal shampoo, his damp hair clinging to the sides of his neck in enticing waves. Oh, and look. Jake loved him. Old ladies, dogs, he had everyone lining up to fan him with palm fronds and feed him grapes.
Sweat trickled between her breasts. “Jake likes you.” Why that left her irritated was a mystery to her.
He grinned, ruffling the top of Jake’s head. “Who wouldn’t? I’m a likeable guy. So what brings you to my neck of the senior citizens’ woods?”
If he noticed the roll of her eyes, he didn’t comment on it. “I didn’t know it was your woods.”
Campbell thumbed over his broad shoulder. “Yep. This is my dad’s place.”
Out of the two hundred units on this side of the village she could have randomly chosen to land in front of, why wouldn’t it be Campbell Barker’s? “I have to finish walking Jake.”
“I’ll help.”
“I don’t need help.”
“Really? The way you were gasping for breath while you ran after Jake didn’t exactly suggest some hidden strength for the ten-
K
or your skills as an alpha pack leader. So I’d beg to differ.”
K
or your skills as an alpha pack leader. So I’d beg to differ.”
Maxine ignored the calming influence Campbell had on Jake. Ignoring his beefcakeyness proved more taxing. Her eyes darted to the black paved sidewalk. “We just need to get to know one another.” She looked down at the dog with a half smile. “Right, Jake?”
He took her in with one droopy eye and snarled.
“How’s that working out? You know, the getting to know each other thing?”
She sighed. “Fine. Walk.” While she knew she was irrationally angry for a multitude of reasons that Jake liked Campbell, it didn’t stop her from being so.
Campbell took the leash from her raw, red hand and gave it a firm tug. Jake responded by taking his place beside his strong thigh, popping the squat she could have never elicited from him if Mr. Barker hadn’t shown up and turned everything all magical and shiny. “You just have to let him know you’re in charge or he’ll run rampant.”
Maxine’s eyes widened. Wow. Mr. Hodge hadn’t been kidding. Jake shit big. She stooped to shovel his aromatic essence into the baggie and said out of the side of her mouth, “Thank you, Dog Whisperer.”
He chuckled silky smooth like she hadn’t insulted him, maneuvering Jake into a steady pace. “Hey, I’m just trying to help make this big career switch from the Cluck-Cluck Palace to dog walking a successful one for you.”
“Thank God for career counselors.”
Campbell stopped, halting Jake and looming over her, blocking her view of anything else but him. “You know I have to ask.”
Maxine’s chin lifted. “Knock yourself out.”
“What’s up your ass, Max?”
That took her by surprise. And, yeah. What the hell was up her ass? Aside from Finley’s fist. “I have no idea what you mean.”
“You know exactly what I mean.”
“Do not.”
“Yeah, you do. You’re one cranky lady, and you know what I think this is about?”
“So you don’t just fix broken pipes and soothe savage beasts, you have the psychoanalysis thing wrapped up, too?”
“Just call me Dr. Campbell.”
“So what’s my diagnosis?”
“You have a severe case of Campbell-itis. You like me. I’d venture to say you find me pretty attractive. You don’t much like that. It burns your britches.”
So? “I don’t like anything or anyone at this point in my life. I don’t much like me. How could I possibly like
you
?” Maxine bit her tongue.
TMI, Maxine.
you
?” Maxine bit her tongue.
TMI, Maxine.
The soft purr of a car engine brought her respite from his answer—which she was more than positive would’ve been cocky and riddled with Campbell-itis.
The fading sun glinted off the hood of a sleek, midnight blue sedan as it crawled up the hill and slowed to a stop right beside them. A quick glance at the vehicle’s owner told her that, definitely, whoever was in charge upstairs was grudgin’ and she was at the top of that list.
“Maxine,” Finley drawled out of the open window, but only after he’d scanned the length of her sweat-suit-clad body, eyes filled with distaste.
Instantly, her stomach lurched and her intestines kinked up. Finley had never come here in the eight months since she’d flown his coop. In fact, she hadn’t laid eyes on him since he’d confirmed what the society pages had prematurely announced. Laying eyes on him now didn’t garner the reaction she’d given so much thought to in all this time. There was no longing for what might have been, no emotional connection. The sort of connection that was usually a lingering residual effect of sharing so many years together. Not even a twinge.
There was just fear of Finley and the intimidation factor he wielded like Conan the Barbarian. Fuckall if that shouldn’t make her pissed as all hell. Instead, she found her knees shaking at a possible confrontation while her mind raced with a million different answers to the question of why he’d finally shown up. “Why are you here, Finley?” she croaked, clinging to the baggie housing Jake’s monstrous contribution. Oh, Jesus. Had she croaked? Yeah. She’d croaked the words.
While she held a bag of dog poop. So sad.
He popped open the door and slid out of the car with ease. Dressed immaculately, his black suit with the sharp creases in the pants and bright red tie made her cringe at her own appearance. Like wearing a Dior original would make her any less of a candy-ass anyway.
Jake gifted Finley with the same low growl he’d given her. Campbell gave his leash another firm tug, placing a palm at his snout to quiet him. His next move was subtle, but meant for visibility, when he placed his free hand at Maxine’s waist.
“I’m here to see my son. I figure if you’re going to prevent him from seeing me, then I’ll just come see him.”
Right. In all this time it had been the scary Maxine who’d kept him from Connor. It was always someone else’s fault Fin wasn’t getting what he wanted. When he’d stuck his shank of love up any available vajajay, it was her fault. She wasn’t attentive enough. She didn’t make him feel like he was a man enough. Her thighs were too jiggly. There was never any owning up with Finley. Maxine’s cheeks flushed in indignation. Yet, her protest to his false accusation came out weak and downright sissified. “I did not—”
Finley held up a hand to quiet her, the twenty-four-carat gold of his pinky ring flashing its brilliance. Just another of the many baubles he used to show off his financial stature. There was nothing he loved more than flaunting his goodies. But the thin line of his lips still had the bloody power to make her wince. “I’m not up to your bullshit today, Maxine. Just tell me where your mother’s house is and I’ll go find him myself.”
Campbell rolled his tongue in his cheek, taking a step closer to her ex-husband. “You don’t know where your own kid’s been living?”
“Leave Connor alone, Finley,” she crowed, summoning the will to defy him on her son’s behalf. He could manipulate her all he wanted, but the fuck she’d let him beat Connor down, too. “He’s obviously not ready to see you.”
Finley’s cheeks grew sharply pronounced when his mouth puckered. Oh, she knew that look. It was the “You’re pushing my buttons, Maxine” look, and it immediately made her rethink her words. “He’s not ready because you won’t let him be ready. You’ve brainwashed the shit out of him, you and that crazy mother of yours. Now where’s your mother’s house? You can’t keep him from me, Maxine. I have a right to see him.”
She caught the questioning glance Campbell shot her. The one that said, “Why don’t you pony up and defend yourself, chicken-shit?” But her throat was thick, her tongue sluggish, and her functioning brain matter uncooperative. “Talk to the judge, Finley,” she said, meaning for it to sound like a demand, but it turned out to be nothing more than a pathetic order.
And Finley was all over that shit like fried on chicken. He fed off the power he’d convinced her he had. The only thing that had changed in eight months was that she was no longer going to be married to him. Pitiful. “I’d be very careful if I were you, Maxine. You can’t afford to lose anything else.” The narrowed slant of his eyes, the imposing feel to his stance, the twisted confidence in knowing he held all the cards, infuriated her. Yet the gurgling bubble of anger she so wanted to nurture just wouldn’t pop.
However, Campbell didn’t seem to feel the same way. He wasn’t at all intimidated. Of course, he hadn’t lost his cute shoes and a place to live either. His posture was rigid, hovering a good three inches over Finley when he placed himself between them. “I think you’d better cool it, pal, and lay off the threats.” Campbell’s angular face was tense, his jaw muscles working overtime. The tight clench of his square fist around Jake’s leash flexed with a twitch.
“And who the fuck are you?” was her soon to be ex-husband’s arrogant question. His shoulders squared, and his wide chest puffed out like he was looking for a good throwdown.
Hoo boy. Finley felt threatened. No one threatened Finley Cambridge. When he became this confrontational, it was time to step in. She’d done it all of her adult life on his behalf.
Some habits died hard, slow, agonizing deaths.
Wonder of wonders, her vocal cords decided they’d cut her some slack, and her response to Finley’s question flew from her lips like a bullet from a gun. “He’s my boyfriend.”
Niiice.
Superfly, Maxine.
CHAPTER FOUR
Note from Maxine Cambridge to all ex-trophy wives on sucking it up: When attempting to put on airs for your soon to be ex-husband, quite possibly one should do so when not in a dingy gray sweat suit, holding a Ziploc bag full of dog poo. It carries just a wee bit less in the way of impact. Okay. It carries
a lot less
. In fact, it’s unseemly. In other words, don’t let your douche-bag husband see you sweat. Wear deodorant at all times.
“So look who’s got a boy toy,” Finley taunted, cocking a silvery eyebrow in a manner that dripped with lewd suggestion. The sly innuendo that Campbell was nothing more than a man-whore irked her. Alas, because he was a douche bag, it was only natural he’d assume everyone else was, too.
Maxine cringed, clenching her teeth, wishing she had the clangers to hurl Jake’s poop at him and watch it slide down the front of his immaculate suit.
Campbell crossed his brawny arms over his torso, puffing his chest out, too. The nice thing about it was, his chest puffed farther than Fin’s. “I think it was a good move on Max’s part. You got Preteen Barbie
,
and she got me, and while I’m not a preteen, I’m definitely not
sixty
.”
,
and she got me, and while I’m not a preteen, I’m definitely not
sixty
.”
Score!
As quickly as she inwardly cheered Campbell calling Fin out, she winced. Oh, sweet Jesus. Fin was going to run him over with his big fancy car. Her heart crashed, but she wasn’t sure if it was because she was afraid the two men were going to come to blows, or because Campbell had defended her.
A tingle in her stomach began with a small clench and blossomed into a fistful of butterflies, taking flight in her gullet.
Okay, okay. It was because Campbell had defended her. Duly noted.
Finley’s foot scraped the pavement when he rounded on them, jamming his hands into the pockets of his expensive trousers. “And what do you know about our affairs?”
Campbell gave him a distinct look of disinterest, shrugging his shoulders with indifference. “I don’t know anything about Max’s affairs. I just know about
your
affair,” he drawled with lazy syllables, moving his body in slow increments in order to fully cover Maxine’s. “Or was it affairs, as in multiples, honey?” he asked over his shoulder.
your
affair,” he drawled with lazy syllables, moving his body in slow increments in order to fully cover Maxine’s. “Or was it affairs, as in multiples, honey?” he asked over his shoulder.
Christ on a crapper. He’d gone
there
. Without any help from her. How had he known where
there
was? God, if he knew, she’d never be able to look him in the eye again.
there
. Without any help from her. How had he known where
there
was? God, if he knew, she’d never be able to look him in the eye again.
But that was okay. Who needed to look in his dreamy blue eyes?
He had a nice chest.
This had to stop before Campbell took Finley out. Stepping around Campbell, Maxine put a hand up, but she couldn’t make her eyes meet her ex-husband’s. They ended up fixating on the crisp collar of his shirt. “Look, Finley, what I do or who I do it with is none of your business anymore. This is about our son, and I don’t know if Connor will see you or not. In fact, I doubt it, but the judge did make it clear you had to call first if you wanted to see him, and I don’t remember getting a message that your receptionist called on your behalf.” So, hah.
Hah, shit. That was weak, weak, weak, Maxine.
Hah, shit. That was weak, weak, weak, Maxine.
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